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221bshrlocked · 3 years

Text

A Sky Full of Stars

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Fem!Reader

Words: 11340 (I know I say this all the time but this really was supposed to be a short one-shot but it got away from me because I just loved this idea so so much. Sorry not sorry.)

Warning: Nothing but fluff. Some kissing that turns into a heated make-out session that turns into a cuddling session.

Inspired by this tiktok by the lovely ameliagonzales who was gracious enough to allow me to use her idea and write this.

A/N: It's been a while since I wrote something that's fluffy slightly angsty and dialogue-centered. I'm not going to lie, this took longer than usual because of the lovely anon that decided to tell me my characterization of Din is hella off and I realized I don't care if it is because it's my writing and I get to do whatever I want with it. Let me know how I'm doing in the comments and reblogs are always always appreciated. You can add yourself to the taglist here. This is not beta'd btw.

“No silly this isn’t green, it’s blue.” The little girl put her toy away and brought out a new one, giggling at your faux pout as she shoves the new object in your hand and asks you what color you thought it was. You turn it around in your hands, trying your hardest to hide the hurt growing in your chest at not knowing what color it is. You think it’s closer to the first toy she gave you but you’re not sure. You’re never sure. You look at the girl and smile at her before setting the toy aside and wiggling your hands at her. She immediately stands up and screams as you run after her, laughing along with her giggles as you chase her around and watch as more kids join in and run away from you.

You’re not sure how long you’re chasing the little ones and you hear some of them gasp and ‘oooh’ when your young friend runs into a solid figure. You stand up and watch as the girl tears up as she apologizes to the man she just ran into. You’re immediately hugging her and assuring her that everything is okay, turning to the side and narrowing your eyes at the man that scared her half to death.

“Shame on you Mando,” you pretend to smack his shoulder three times and watch as the child in your arms sniffles between laughs when the Mandalorian tries to hide away from you.

“I’m sorry little flower, I didn’t mean to scare you.” You watch as the man reaches for a small bottle in his pocket and slowly hands it to the girl. “Here you go, a token of my apology.”

“It’s okay sweetheart, he’s a nice man...even though he doesn’t look it.” You wink at Boba Fett and giggle along with her when he sighs heavily and pushes the flask into her hand. She takes it and shakes it around, her eyes lighting up when the bottle shimmers at her ministrations and illuminates her hands.

“It’s so pretty! How did you know orange is my favorite color?” The girl slides down your arms and quickly hugs the hunter in front of you before running away and showing her friends. You look at her with longing in your eyes, wishing with all your heart that you saw the gift the same way she saw it.

“Still no color princess?” Fett questions and you shrug your shoulders as you make your way towards Slave I and sit on the ramp.

“Yup, same old same old. Who knows if I’ll ever see color.” There is a hint of hurt in your tone but Fett says nothing as he approaches you and stands to the side. He pats your shoulder once as he takes his helmet off and softly wipes at the visor to clean it.

“Don’t give up, kid. You’re still young...you’ve got all the time in the galaxy and you travel everywhere. You’ll meet them when you least expect it.”

“In this line of work? Yeah, I don’t think so Fett. But at least one of us didn’t lose the positive attitude. If I’m being honest, I was hoping to see color before the next supply run. The chances that I’ll live to go to Pasaana during another Festival of the Ancestors are practically non-existent. I heard they wear so many variations of the same color...maker, it would have been nice to experience that.” You pick up a rock and throw it away as you nervously ring your fingers and brush the conversation aside, not wanting to start the journey with a sour mood.

“Well, lucky for us, we have extra help on this run so it should be quicker. Maybe you’ll see color before you go?” Fett looks up and you follow his line of sight as another ship slowly lands just behind Slave I. You stand up and walk behind your old friend, looking back at the crates to ensure they’re still there before you approach the landing ship.

“Oh no, what poor soul did you manage to rope in this time?” You eye the ship and swear there is something familiar about it but you pay it no mind as Fett puts his helmet back on.

“Hey, I don’t always bend people to my will you know. He volunteered actually...he knows his way around the Narvath Sector and he might even tag along with us to the Forbidden Valley. So, be nice and don’t flirt with him.” Fett warns and you throw your hands up in defeat, failing to hide your smile as you respond with feigned offense.

“I’m not going to flirt with him.” You raise an eyebrow when Fett snorts at your high-pitched voice as he makes his way to the landing ship, and mutters something beneath his breath. The ship powers down after a couple of moments and you take a deep breath when the doors to the docking ramp slide and a figure appears at the corner.

“There he is...took you longer to land this time.” Fett yells to the other Mandalorian, not noticing how you take a few steps back as the man walks down towards the two of you.

“Oh well things just got a little more interesting now.” You break the silence and cringe when the Mandalorian struts past your friend and takes out his blaster. You hold your hands up when he points the weapon at your head and you watch as Fett strides to the two of you and stands in between your body and his brother’s weapon.

“You?” The Mandalorian growls and he tries to step aside and Fett holds his chest and pushes him back.

“Me!” You smile nervously and gulp when Fett turns around and looks at you. You swear you can almost see the look he’s giving you but you say nothing and hope that he can handle this situation for you.

“Oh.” You would have laughed at Fett’s response if there wasn’t a bounty hunter standing not five feet away from you and killing you a thousand different ways.

“You two know each other?” Fett breaks the silence and continues to stand between the two of you, knowing his friend’s short temper and your dumb comments might escalate this situation.

“I wouldn’t say we know each other. I’d say we met very briefly on-” You try to explain what happened the last time you saw the Mandalorian but he cuts you off. He pushes his blaster into its holster and you sigh heavily but keep your hands raised, afraid he'll change his mind any second and try to shoot you again.

“You almost blew up my ship!” The Mandalorian yells and you jump at his exclamation. His irritation seeps into your skin and you narrow your eyes at him as you walk around Fett and begin to nudge at the beskar armor with one finger. Your anger at his unfairness outgrows your fear of what he can do to you and you continue to push on his chest plate as you talk back at him and ignore Fett’s whispers to let it go.

“I did no such thing. I merely tried to fix your shitty cooling radiator panels but you scared the fuck out of me when you came up behind me and suggested I switch the parts, hence why I dropped the cauterizer and burned through the wires. So technically, you almost blew up your ship.” You’re breathing heavily and you’re sure your nose is flaring from how annoyed you are by the man in front of you. A few seconds pass between the two of you and it’s not until the Mandalorian tilts his head that you realize what you’ve just said and done. You take your hands away and swallow the growing lump in your throat as you step back and apologize a few times before you walk to the crates.

The Mandalorian stands there in silence, never once looking away from you retreating form, even when Boba Fett comes and stands him.

He’s missed this, and more than he preferred to admit.

“Little princess is fiery today.” Fett comments and notices when his friend turns and stares at him through the visor. The Mandalorian says nothing as he walks away from Fett and follows you. You’re in the middle of counting the supplies in the crates when you hear the crunching of footsteps approaching you. Thinking it’s Fett that’s come to help you move the supplies, you roll up your sleeves and ask him to take the opposite side.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at your brother. I was just annoyed because I was only trying to help and he scared me.” When you look up and see that it was the Mandalorian and not your friend, you drop the crate and stare at him. He says nothing as he picks up his end of the large box and waits for you to mirror his actions before he begins to walk back to his ship. Neither of you say anything as you go back and forth until all the crates are on his ship. You walk out and stand next to Fett, waiting for his instructions to see whether you were going to go with him or with the new member of the crew.

“So what’s the plan?” You avoid the Mandalorian standing next to you and turn your body towards Fett, hoping that he’d say that you were tagging along with him.

“You’re going to go with him.” You cease to breathe at his command and clench your fists when you recognize his tone. He’s not leaving room for negotiation.

“W-why?” The Mandalorian walks back to his ship at your question and you pout when you realize that he may have misunderstood your inquiry. Not that it mattered whether or not he misunderstood...

“Fennec...we’ll meet you at Iktotchon.” You look to the ground and shuffle your feet against the sand, turning back to him and nodding quietly as you follow behind the Mandalorian.

“And princess!” Fett calls for you and you glance at him when you reach the top of the ramp.

“Hmm?”

“Try not to get into too much trouble.” You look at him with annoyance and shake your head when you realize he’s just teasing you. Standing at the large doors of the ship, you glimpse one last time at Mos Eisley before you make your way into the heart of the ship. A few moments later, the ship powers up and you watch as the barrier raises and locks just as light filters through the area. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do or where you’re allowed to go so you remain standing where you are. Not a minute later, you jump when a voice breaks the silence and booms through the ship.

“Come up to the cockpit.”

You take a deep, calming breath as you set your things to the side and ascend the ladder to the cockpit. You come face to face with a door and you’re about to knock when it slides open and reveals the Mandalorian sitting in the pilot chair.

“Sit down and buckle up.” He says as he flicks on buttons across the board. He turns his head towards you to make sure that you’re buckled in before he raises the throttle levers and begins to take off. You hold back from saying something snarky as the turbulence gets worse, only shutting your eyes when it gets to be too much. You’re not sure how long you’re sitting there with your hands clasping the leather of the chair but it’s only when you hear the seat in front of you turning that you realize you were already in space.

You frown when you open your eyes and see the Mandalorian already looking at you, the tilt of his helmet letting you know that he was silently mocking you.

“What?” You break the silence and watch as he rights himself before he turns around and pushes the auto-pilot button.

“You’re a supply dealer who hates flying.” It’s more of a question than a comment and you can’t help but narrow your eyes when he stands up and continues to stare at you.

“So?”

“Not a good quality of life.” If you’re surprised by his response, you try not to show it as you stand up and face him defensively like before.

“Says the man who wears beskar armor every minute of the day.” It’s a low blow and you know you have no right involving his religion. But you’re fed up with his passive aggressiveness and you want to make sure he knows that he can’t talk down to you.

The Mandalorian turns away and looks at the passing stars of the galaxy, softly whispering for you to follow him as he exits the cockpit. You want to apologize for what you said but you hold back instead, following him down the ladder and standing to the side when you see him moving things around.

“This is my cot, and that right there is yours.” He points to two doors across from each other at the end of the hallway and waits for your confirmation before he walks past them and shows you the refresher.

“Help yourself to any of the rations. We’ll arrive at Iktotchon in four sleeping cycles so there should be enough food for the two of us until we get there.” You’re not sure what makes you reach for his wrist when he turns around to walk away. He stands still and looks down at the hand grasping his beskar before he looks at you.

“S-sorry...I- umm, are you coming to Pasaana?” You ring your fingers nervously as you look at yourself in his visor, taking two steps back when he straightens up and looks down at your hands.

“You’re going to the Festival of the Ancestors.”

“Yes. Well, it’s me, Mando, and Fennec. So I was just wondering, you know, if there was...if you had anything lined up after this supply run. Because if not, you can tag along...it only happens every-”

“42 years. I know.” He cuts you off and you’re not sure if his body-language seems more open or not but within a few seconds of chatting with him, he’s suddenly relaxing and leaning back against the metal wall. He’s silent for longer than you prefer so you force a smile and rub the back of your neck awkwardly as you prepare to tell him to forget that you asked since he probably has more important matters to handle.

“Ok.” It’s a simple response yet you feel your skin heat up as he nods at you and walks to his quarters. He hesitates at the door for a moment before he pushes the button and steps into the privacy of his room.

You let out a deep breath and stand in your spot for a few minutes before you slip back to the docking space to bring your belongings to the room. The ship is surprisingly more quiet than others you’ve been on and you remember what he told you about it the last time you saw him. A faint memory of how he defended the size of his ship makes you giggle. Then again, you’ve heard from Peli about the piece of junk he had before this and knew that it was barely considered as machinery.

“Maker, how am I going to make it four days on this ship with him?” You shake your head as you prepare to go to bed. The twin suns were just setting on Tatooine when you were leaving and you knew it was better to get as much sleep in as possible considering how quickly things sometimes escalated on these kinds of runs.

Surprisingly, things weren’t too bad when you left your sleeping cot the following day. The Mandalorian was already awake and cleaning his weapons. You bid him a quick good morning as you moved past him and looked for some snacks. He didn’t seem like he wanted to converse with you so you opted to stay in your room for the remainder of your waking hours. A voice in your head told you to keep the door open in case he did want to chat eventually but as you thought, he never once disturbed you.

The second day on the ship was perhaps slightly more eventful. Although he continued to pass his time in silence, he did manage to ask you to help him fix something in the cockpit. You were shocked he requested your services with ease and said nothing as he stood aside and watched you tinker away with the radar display screen. He thanked you twice when you finished and told you that he’d let you know if he needed your help with anything else.

The third day, however, made you wish you could open the docking doors and throw yourself out in space. You hadn’t seen him all morning long and you thought it was probably because he wanted some privacy in the cockpit. By the middle of the day, you jumped out of your cot and grabbed some spare clothes as you headed to the refresher, wanting to shower once before you landed on the sand-filled planet the following. As you walked to the door and pushed the button, you were met with a heavy fog escaping the room. When the fog cleared, you dropped your clothes and slammed your hands on your eyes, immediately backing away from the room as the Mandalorian scrambled to wrap something around his waist. You weren’t sure how many times you apologized in the span of one minute but when you heard the familiar sound of a blaster turning on, you stood in silence and waited for him to say something.

“Pfassk, do you have no kriffing regard for privacy?” He growled through the vocoder and you shook your head to try and explain to him that you saw nothing but his back.

“I- maker, I’m so sorry. I swear on my life I didn’t see anything except your back. I didn’t know you were in there...I really didn’t or else I wouldn't have gone in.” You sigh in relief when you hear him murmur to himself as he sets down the blaster and shuffles around in search of his clothes.

“What do you mean you didn’t know I was in there? The red light was on, which usually means someone is in the fucking refresher using it.” Hearing him swear shouldn’t make you shiver and yet you do. When you notice that he’s gone still, you assume it’s safe to look at him again. Taking a deep breath, you turn around and lower your hands as you muster up the courage to try and explain to him why you couldn’t see the red light.

And boy was that a mistake. You regret removing your hands from your eyes as soon as you take a good look at him. Turns out, the beskar armor only made him look more intimidating. The man was large, made to be a hunter. He was broad-shouldered, muscular in all the right places and soft in others. You unintentionally frown when you see his bronze skin littered with scars of all shapes and sizes. Maker, the life he led was worse than you thought.

“I- uhh, I don’t...I couldn’t see it.” You hated how much your voice broke when you tried to explain yourself. As much as you wanted to blame it on being afraid of him, you knew it was less about the danger he exuded and more about the fact that you could see more of his skin than you thought you ever would.

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t know it was red.” You knew none of what you were saying was making sense but this wasn’t exactly a situation that you thought you’d find yourself having to deal with, and with the Mandalorian of all people.

“Are you fucking with me?” He was less hostile than earlier but his words were still spoken aggressively. You couldn’t blame him really, especially when you knew how strict his religion was.

“N-no. I- my species doesn’t see color until- well, it doesn’t matter. My species doesn’t see color. We just see grays. I’m sorry...I should have asked before if there was anything I needed to learn about the ship that required me seeing colors. It escaped me. I’ll try to pay more attention...I promise you I saw nothing.” You take one last glance at the heaving, glistening body in front of you before you turn around and walk in your room. You shut the door behind you this time, knowing that he probably wanted some of his privacy back and that he would need to limit himself should you keep it open.

It’s not until a few hours later that you sit up when you hear a soft knock on your door. You stand up and push open the barrier, finding the Mandalorian standing in front of you with his helmet looking straight at your reluctant expression. You wait for him to say something and when he doesn’t, you raise your eyebrows and silently ask him if he needs anything.

“I didn’t know about your...I didn’t know. And I didn’t mean to scare you with the blaster either, it’s a reflex to- umm.” You nod at him and look down to see what he’s holding in his hands. “You left your clothes lying on the floor.” He pushes the fabric towards you and averts his eyes when he sees your undergarments peaking through the shirt. You thank him as you set them down on your bag and look into his visor again.

“Ad'ika?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.” The whispered exclamation does little to calm your nerves and you’re not sure what to say to him so you nod and awkwardly smile into the shiny beskar helmet. The Mandalorian murmurs a quick ‘good night’ before he makes his way to the cockpit, leaving you as confused as ever.

You don’t get an ounce of sleep that night, the image of him in nothing but a helmet and some flimsy pants making you wish he had shot you with his blaster instead. You refuse to admit the rising emotions you’re beginning to feel towards him, mostly because it didn’t matter whether or not he reciprocated them.

You still couldn’t see color.

He wasn’t your soulmate.

You’re afraid to leave the room the next morning, not sure which version of the Mandalorian you were going to have to deal with. It turns out, there was nothing to worry about because not surprisingly, you got the quiet, slightly shy man chatting with you. He pretends nothing happened the previous day and you go along with it. You’re just about to enter the atmosphere of Iktotchon when you receive a hologram from Fett telling the two of you of the sandstorm passing through the meeting point.

As you buckle into the seat behind the Mandalorian, he takes a moment to turn around and call for you.

“There’s going to be turbulence.”

“I- I know.” You barely hold back from furrowing your eyebrows at his comment but then he turns around to face you completely and you narrow your eyes at him with suspicion.

“I’ve landed on worse planets.” It takes you a few extra seconds to realize what he’s attempting to do and you can’t help but laugh and break the moment. You quiet down when he turns around and begins to descend to the planet.

“Are you worried about little old me Mandalorian?” You try to distract yourself from the sudden, harsh shaking of the ship but the teasing does little to calm your nerves when you realize that the sandstorm was as bad as Fett made it sound. You shut your eyes and try to picture the calm nights you’re so used to on Tatooine.

“You know, you can just call me Mando.” His voice breaks you out of your haze and you growl in response when you hear a few sounds go off above you.

“No, I- I can’t call you that. I reserved it for the other guy already!”

“You mean the Mandalorian who already told you his name?” He claps back and chuckles when you sigh in irritation at his question.

“Fine okay you’re right. How about this? Can you land this fucking ship without killing the two of us Mando?” You’re screaming at the top of your lungs and grasp the belt around your torso harder when you don’t hear back from him.

“Mando?”

“You mean the ship I already landed ad’ika?” Your eyes shoot wide open and you look around frantically, only to see that most of the turbulence you experienced was due to the sand and gravel hitting the metal of the ship.

“Oh...that was- not as bad as I thought it would be.”

“Anything beats Maldo Kreis.” Mando says as he stands there across from you and the slight tilt of his helmet at your confused expression makes you realize he may not have meant to say that out loud.

“We need to go. The storm will only get worse if we wait until night.” You nod in agreement and follow him out of the cockpit to the docking station. Mando instantly regrets lowering the docking ramp when he sees gravel quickly entering the ship. You run to your room to grab the helmet you brought with you and lock it in as you return to help him with the crates.

It’s a difficult few hours on the planet, and you grow more irritated when the Ikotchi threatens you with less supply exchanges. When his demeanor suddenly changes and he asks you to take the crates and leave, you thank him and quickly take the crates up the ramp with Fennec before he changes his mind. You never once notice both Mandalorians as they subtly push their blasters back into their holsters.

You’re leaving Iktotchon later than you prefer, mostly because both bounty hunters find themselves in a heated argument that Fennec has to end not-so-gently. You don’t bother asking Mando what the issue was when you see him strutting into the cockpit, quickly strapping yourself in when he glances at you to make sure you’re safe.

It’s a rough take off for both his ship and Slave I, but you say nothing of it, knowing that he might not appreciate any light teasing at the moment. Once you’re out of the planet’s atmosphere, Mando puts in the coordinates for Pasaana and sends a hologram to Fett, letting him know that you would be reaching the planet in less than a day.

You want to ask him if you could help in any way but you decide against it and leave him to his thoughts. You want nothing more than to take a long, hot shower to rid yourself of all the sand that managed to seep into your clothes. But then you notice the state of the docking area and before you can talk yourself out of it, you look around for anything that resembles a sweeper and clean as much of the floor as you can. You’re thankful that Mando doesn’t leave the cockpit and when you’re done, you go back into your room to grab a change of clothes so you could use the refresher.

You think you hear Mando passing by your room but you say nothing and make your way to the refresher, halting in your steps when you look at the light and find it turned off.

Great.

“Mando? Are you in there?” You’re not sure if he can hear you or not so you try to ask him again a little louder.

“Mando!? Are you i-”

“No.” You jump as soon as you hear him respond from behind you. Turning around, you clutch at your chest when you see him standing in front of his door without the beskar armor.

“I- uhh, t-there’s no light. And I wasn’t sure what that meant really.” You’re ringing your fingers again, and hope that he doesn’t notice just how nervous you are in his presence.

“Well I- I rewired the electrical circuits of the refresher so you know when it’s occupied and when it isn’t. If the light is on, it means I’m in there, and if it isn’t, then it’s free for use. No more colores.”

You look at him as if he took off his helmet, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that he went out of his way to accommodate you when you’re only on his ship for another few days.

“Thank you,” is all you manage to say before you push the door and scramble in. Mando looks at the door for another few minutes before he remembers that he hasn’t eaten in a while. He cooks up a meal for two quickly and eats his share before you finish your shower. When he hears you walking out, he sits in his usual corner and brings out his weapons to polish them.

You smell food as soon as you walk out of the refresher and you throw your clothes on your cot before you make your way to the large space across the hallway. You’re about to ask Mando about the food situation when you see a plate opposite of him on the table.

“It’s yours.” Mando breaks the silence as he wipes in between the crevasses of his blaster, nodding towards the space in front of him to let you know that you could join him,

“Thank you Mando.”

Neither of you say anything as you inhale your dinner and it’s not until you’ve washed your plates and set them aside that Mando decides to break the silence.

“Can I ask you something?”

“S-sure.” You think he’s going to ask you what it’s like to not see colors and to only see gradations of gray but his question catches you off guard.

“When can your species see color?” If you were uncomfortable by his question, you did a good job hiding it from him. Mando watches as you push off the wall and return to sit in front of him, lazily pushing around the towel he was holding as you answer him.

“This might sound stupid and I’m usually told that it’s not real but I’ve seen those of my kind experience the second they could see color so I know it’s not just a fable we’re told when we’re young. Basically, we see color when we meet our soulmates.” Mando’s heart breaks when you throw him a forced smile, one he’s seen a million times looking back at him in the mirror.

“Your soulmate?”

“Yup, the person I’m destined to be with. My other half. The one that will belong to me and I to him.” Mando nods along with you as he stands up and hangs up his weapons one by one.

“I know what you’re thinking. What’s someone like me going to do at the Festival of the Ancestors? Honestly, I think it’ll be fun to attend it whether or not I can see the colors. It’s a rich culture so I’m sure I’ll enjoy it either way.”

“I can always walk around with you and describe to you the colors, t-the patterns even. If...if you want.” His suggestion throws you off guard and as earlier, you gape at him as you try to figure out what he was playing at. You think he’s pulling your leg and will laugh at you at any moment, but when he doesn’t, you realize that he’s being dead serious.

“That would be nice Mando. I might not see the colors but I could always imagine what they look like next to each other.”

And just like that, the conversation is over as quickly as it begins.

“Good night mesh’la.” Mando murmurs as he makes his way to his quarters, leaving you more hopeful than you’ve felt in a long while.

It’s a weird thing to admit but for the first time in years, you don’t go to sleep wishing you could wake up and see colors. No. You doze off wondering what it would feel like to hold his hand and maybe, just maybe, kiss it. You think of how soft his untouched skin must feel like and how calloused his scarred muscles would look.

When you dream that night, you see faint images of his lips caressing yours and his firm arms bringing you into his embrace.

And you wake up with a lazy smile etched on your face because those dreams, those sweet, lovely memories your brain conjured up during the night, felt as good as seeing color.

You can’t look at him for the duration of the morning, constantly pretending that you’re doing something or other so he doesn’t think you’re avoiding him because the last thing you wanted was to make him think you didn’t want to talk to him. But you just can’t find it in yourself to look into his visor. Every time you so much as glance at the beskar helmet, you remember what your subconscious conjured up and you stutter out a response to whatever he says.

Not surprisingly, Mando notices the shift in your behavior and he waits until you finish fixing the crates’ locks, which were clearly not broken, before he approaches you.

“Mesh’la.”

“Yes Mando?” You’re still not looking at him and Mando starts to genuinely believe that he’s done something wrong. When you try to walk past him to place the tool back in your room, Mando reaches out and takes hold of your wrist before you’re out of reach. You look at his gloved hand wrapped around your skin before you meet his eyes past his visor and Mando holds his breath because for a moment, he thinks you can see straight through him.

“You’re angry with me.”

You never realize until this moment that Mando tends to ask most of his questions in the form of a statement and it’s strange. It’s strange because it never occurred to you that he’s the type to perhaps jump to conclusions when he can’t read the situation. Setting the tool box down, you stand up and fix your shirt as you muster up the courage to respond to him.

“I’m not. I’m not angry with you. I’m- it’s...difficult to explain.” His hold loosens but he’s standing in your space and you think it’s because he’s not totally convinced by your answer and won’t let it go until you give him a proper explanation for the sudden change in your treatment.

“It’s difficult to explain why you’re not angry with me.”

There it goes again, that weird phrasing of his inner thoughts. You huff in irritation and Mando misunderstands your annoyed expression so he steps away and turns to look everywhere else but you.

“No, Mando...maker- yes it’s difficult to explain because you’re- no, not you. It’s not your fault it’s mine. I’m just not used to- gods why is this so hard?” You’re visibly stressed and it must be a sight because Mando comes back to stand in front of you and he rests one hand on your shoulder, waiting until you turn to look at him before he tries to break the anxiety-inducing silence.

“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I- I shouldn’t have offered to walk through the festival with you. I should have thought of how uncomfortable you’d feel before I selfishly asked t-” You perk up at his choice in words and you’re about to ask him what he meant by what he said but he doesn’t give you a chance. “Please believe me when I tell you I only wanted to...I thought it might help.”

“You see, this is exactly why I’m avoiding you.” You’re not sure who’s more surprised by your little outburst but when his hold tightens around your shoulder, you think maybe it’s him.

“So you are avoiding me.”

“Yes okay? I am, I’m avoiding you because the last few days felt like a whiplash of emotions and I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. One minute you’re angry and quiet and it’s as if I’m not in the same space as you, and the next thing I know, you’re rewiring your damn ship so I know how to use it and then offering to pretty much waste your time during one of the most beautiful festivals in the galaxy just to make sure I’m enjoying myself. And...and it’s difficult because I feel myself falling but I don’t want to because I’m afraid...I’m afraid you won’t be there to catch me...because you don’t have to. Because why would you when-”

You’re not sure how you got to this moment but all you know is that you're’ suddenly surrounded by Mando and the cold beskar armor and his natural musk and this unique woodsy scent and it’s-

It’s breathtaking.

“Cyar’ika, I didn’t know...I didn’t know I was causing you this much distress. It’s difficult for me to- to speak my he- to speak at times. I wasn’t thinking of how I’m coming off and I was so busy trying to figure out my- my own feelings...that I didn’t stop and think of what you must be going through.” His voice is low and you think perhaps that it’s breaking with every word he whispers through the vocoder, so you do the only thing you think of at the moment. Reluctantly, you wrap as much of your arms around him as physically possible, hoping he’d understand that you were listening to him and no longer trying to ignore him.

“Mando-”

“I- I volunteered for this supply run.” You’re not sure how this relates to this current affair but you sink further into his embrace, hoping that he wouldn’t shy away from explaining why he’s bringing this up now.

“I know. Fett told me.”

“Did he tell you why?” Mando replies instantly and you furrow your eyebrows even though you know he can’t see you.

“N-no.”

“I- I couldn’t stop thinking of you. Ever since the last time I saw you, I’ve been at war with myself, with what I was allowing to happen. I knew you weren’t to blame with the cauterizer but I couldn’t accept my heart letting you...maker, I can see why you said this is difficult.” He chuckles nervously and you hold your breath in anticipation because he isn’t, he can’t be admitting what you think he is.

“W-what’re you saying Mando?”

“I’m saying I need you cyar’ika. I’m saying, I’ve been dreaming of you for the past 53 sleeping cycles. I’m saying, I can’t bear the thought of not seeing you after Pasaana.” You don’t realize how long you’ve been holding your breath until you exhale against him and Mando pulls away, keeping his helmet aimed to the floor as he continues. “And if- if you can give me a chance, I’d like to- I’d like to...well, I’m not exactly sure what you enjoy doing but I’d like to do it with you. You don't have to give me an answer now. I know I’m being selfish and I know that I- I don’t belong with you because you haven't seen color yet. But please, please consider this. Consider me.” His voice is much more reserved, lower even, than before and you realize it’s because he was probably considering not telling you up until now.

Your heart breaks at his last words because this was never something you thought you’d have to deal with. But looking back at the last few days, no matter how confusing or strange they were, you can’t help but admit how alive you’ve felt.

You know he doesn’t expect you to answer him right away and you know you should take some time to think over what he’s asking of you.

So when you lay both of your hands on his chest and ask him to look at you, Mando thinks you’re going to reject him and you feel his muscles tense when you step closer to him.

“I do...I- I am considering this Mando, I have been for the past few nights if I’m being honest...it’s actually part of the reason why I couldn’t look at you today. I woke up with this unusual thought, well, unusual to me. It’s been so long since I stopped thinking about seeing color and directed all of my attention to something, or rather, someone else.” You smile up into the visor and slowly reach to rest your hand on the space between his helmet and his cowl. The mere touch of your skin shakes him to his core and Mando has to clench his fists so he doesn’t lose control over himself.

“Today was the first time I woke up not caring if I hadn’t seen color because- because being with you, and- and talking with you and staying on this ship with you felt like I’ve already seen color. I don’t know what’s going to happen when I do...if I do, but I know that I’d like to give this, us, a shot.”

“You...you do mesh’la?” He almost sounds like a young child asking his parents for permission to have something and when you nod at him, Mando can’t hold back anymore. He wraps his arms around you once more, and carries you off the ground, smiling to himself when he hears you giggling at his dramatic display of affection.

He pulls away and you think he’s about to say something but a message comes through to the ship and Mando apologizes quickly before he ascends to the cockpit. You stay planted in your spot for what feels like hours before you hear Mando telling you that you’re nearing Pasaana. When you get to the cockpit and take your usual seat, Mando rises from his chair and approaches you, kneeling down at your feet to buckle your belt easier and ensure that you’re safe. It’s a small gesture but you know he’s conveying a thousand emotions in that little tap to make sure that you’re buckled in properly and when you smile at him, he reaches over and pushes a stray hair behind your ears before he returns to his pilot chair.

You don’t feel the turbulence once, mostly because you’re too busy replaying the brief moment over and over again in your mind until you’re sure you’ve committed it to memory.

Mando has to tap on your shoulder twice once he lands, and you nod in affirmation when he asks if you were feeling alright. The two of you make your way out of the ship just as Slave I lands. When you glance at Mando to ask him about the argument between him and Fett, you find him already staring at you. You smile at him and watch as he looks away apologetically. Maybe he really was as nervous as you.

“You’re coming along then?” Fett says to Mando as you make your way towards the desert and you pretend to focus on the dozens of kites flying in the air, unsure whether you were meant to be a part of this conversation or not.

Mando replies in Mando’a and you look to Fennec to ask her something about the kites to try and ignore the two men who may or may not have been talking about you. You’re about to ask Fennec about the colors of the flying toys when Mando steps in between the two of you and takes hold of your upper arm, pushing you ahead of the others so he could get a private moment with you.

“Is- are you okay?”

“Fine. He’s being difficult.” His curt answer lets you know that he wasn’t going to reveal what that whole ordeal was about so you nod and try to fall in step with him. You’re about to ask him about the colors of the kites when Mando leans over and whispers in your ears.

“Those two over there are red, like the color of the twin suns on Tatooine when they’re just setting. And, that one over there, the large one flying higher than the rest, it’s a dark blue...like the night sky.” You try to not let the proximity of his body affect you but the more he tells you of the colors, the closer you want him to get to you.

“That smaller one is light green, like many of the plants on Felucia.”

“I’ve never been to Felucia.” You admit to him as you keep your gaze on the kites, trying to differentiate between the colors but barely noticing a difference between the grays.

“I can take you there.” He offers with ease and you look into the visor and smile at him. “I’d like that.”

You can vaguely feel their eyes on you but you don’t bother to pay attention to them, wanting to spend as much time with Mando as you could. Once you reach the edge of the festival, you thank the Aki-Aki that approach you and wrap a necklace of flowers around you. You laugh when they reluctantly look at Mando and he sighs heavily at your death stare before he leans down and allows one of them to place a necklace around his cowl as well.

“Hey Mando?”

“Hmm.”

“Do the necklaces look the same?” Mando turns around and sees Fett and Fennec look away from the two of you. He waits until they walk the opposite direction before he looks at you and takes hold of your necklace.

“Yours have lighter colors...yellow, orange, white, pink and a few light greens here and there. Mine is darker. This is purple, and these are blue...and all of these are dark red and brown.” He points to each of the flowers and tells you its color, never once noticing the way you’re looking at him and hanging onto every single word he says.

When you hear the sound of distant music playing, you take Mando’s hand and make your way through the crowd, telling him that you want to see what they’re doing on the other side of the festival. Mando says nothing as you pull him through, only responding when you directly ask him about the color of the caravan fabrics and laughing when you joke about how he technically blends into the surroundings. And when you come across a large crate that you can vaguely see some designs on, Mando offers to make room for it on his ship so you can get it. It’s a long argument between the two of you but he wins in the end, telling you that he genuinely wanted to gift you something that you can remember him with and might enjoy some day. You almost cry at the unspoken implications of his words but when he shrugs his shoulders and hands over the credits, you quietly thank him and let the seller know that you’ll be taking it before you leave.

Over the next few hours, Mando never leaves your side once, even when you tell him that he should enjoy his time as well. You notice how he changes the subject every time you ask him to explore by himself and giggle when he responds with an opinion on some of the color combinations. It’s quite comical to be in the presence of such an intimidating individual who’s complaining about how ‘that blue doesn’t go too well with this red.’

As you’re making your way through the different caravans, you notice a table displaying a dozen large cloaks. Turning to Mando, you see that he’s busy asking one of the sellers if they have similar shirts but in darker colors. You walk to the table on the other side and look through the capes to try and differentiate between them. When you realize that it’s of no use, you hold one up and call for him to ask if he should buy a new one.

“Hey Mando, maybe you should get this instead of-”

The question dies in your throat when Mando glances away from the vendor and holds your gaze. Your brain refuses to catch up with what your eyes are seeing for what feels like an eternity and your hand flies to your chest and clench it tightly as your heart skips a beat at the sight in front of you. It takes a few seconds for you to inhale deeply when you realize that you aren’t breathing and you feel your heart skip a beat when you watch Mando strut towards you. He drops what he’s holding in his hands and takes a few strides in your way, not caring to hold back as he wraps one arm around your waist while the other rests on your neck and tilts your head so he could take a better look at you. You still can’t wrap your mind around what just happened and you’re not sure what he’s saying until he lightly shakes you in his arms and raises his voice to grab your attention.

Maker, his voice was unlike anything you’ve ever heard. It was hoarse yet calming, the kind of calming that one could only dream of feeling.

“Mesh’la, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” His voice shakes you to your core and your eyes shift down to his lips, tilting your head to the side when you follow the scruff peppering his handsome features and memorize the different colors of his hair. Gods, you couldn’t put a name to any of them but you knew you liked the combination of the light and dark outlining his sharp jaw.

“I- I don’t...maker. You’re...you’re-” You’re unable to form a coherent thought and as you reach out to touch his cheeks, Mando clenches his jaw but doesn’t dare to move a muscle. He realizes that this is the first time you see him without his helmet and he finds himself praying that you find him, at the very least, okay to look at. His hold on you eases when he feels the palm of your hand caress the side of his face before you push his hair aside. Mando nuzzles into your touch and he shuts his eyes to commit this moment to memory. The last time someone was this gentle with him broke his heart, but he found himself longing for a similar feeling with you. Only if it was you.

“N-no...please. Look at me.” Your whispered request drowns out the music of the festival and Mando’s eyes flutter open immediately. He looks down at you and can’t help but shift his focus to your parted lips as you try to speak again.

“Mando? What...what color are your eyes?” You hold your breath as Mando’s gaze softens when he meets your eyes again. He doesn’t know why you’re asking but he answers you anyway.

“Brown.” His voice breaks but then you’re smiling up at him as you reach for his cheek with your other hand and rest it on his heated skin. He’s not sure what brought about any of this but he can’t care less, not when you were here, in his arms, touching him so gently and looking at him like he was the only one that mattered across the galaxy.

“Hmm...they’re a beautiful color.” The admission sends a shiver down his spine and he doesn’t register the meaning behind your words until he sees your expression change to one of panicked shock.

Oh.

“You can see color?” Mando doesn’t intend to sound so accusative but his tone must have been harsh because you nod and snatch your hands away from him as if he’s burned you. You don’t dare look anywhere else as the reality of the situation settles in your mind.

It’s him. It’s been him all along.

“I- I can see color.”

Mando watches as you blink in confusion before you look to the side. You do a double-take when you see the vibrant colors of the festival and Mando steps away as you walk around him and approach a caravan hanging clothing of all color gradations. You ignore everything else as you softly trace the different colors and patterns on the garments before you walk over to the next little cart and stare at the vibrant jewelry. There’s so much to take in and you forget for a moment where you are. When you look away and turn your eyes to the sky, you can’t help but smile at seeing the kites gliding through the air. You don’t know which one you want to focus on because they’re all so pretty so you stand in there for a few moments to take it all in.

It’s not until you feel a presence next to you that you remember how you came to see this new world. When you begin to ring your fingers anxiously, Mando takes a step towards you and takes your hands in his palms.

“Cyar’ika, do you need anything?” He doesn’t know what to say and your lungs refuse to expand when you finally look at him again.

You spent years conjuring up different scenarios in your head to try and anticipate what to expect when you finally meet your soulmate. But standing here, in front of Mando, in the middle of the Festival of the Ancestors, you realize that this compares to nothing.

“I- I don’t…”

“If you want me to go-”

“No! N-no, please. Stay here with me. Stay here with...me.” Y

ou tighten your hold around his hands to prevent him from leaving. Mando nods and turns back to the caravan he was standing by to grab his helmet. You say nothing as he carries it and looks at you, but your eyes must give you away because Mando throws you a quick smile as he keeps it on his side and leads you through the festival.

Neither of you discuss the new development but you don’t ignore it either. You continue to steal glances from each other every now and then, especially when Mando leans over and tells you about each of the colors. Except this time, he doesn’t tell you so you could imagine what they look like. He tells you so you could memorize what each pigment is and begin to recognize them on your own. It’s almost as if nothing changed with how often Mando describes to you the gradations and patterns, but you know that this was far from the truth. And with the way Mando breathes softly against your forehead when he leans down to talk to you, you sense that he knows this as well.

He’s much more forward with his touches now, perhaps even a little shameless too. Hours ago, he would apologize if he pushed you by accident or shifted closer to you. But now, he was walking with you with one hand on your lower back and he would stand longer behind you as you asked about a new color shade.

As the sun slowly sets across the sky, you turn to Mando and wait for him to finish his drink before you ask him about the others.

“Do you mind if we don’t tell the others just yet?” You watch as Mando’s expression falls and you shake your head immediately so he doesn’t misunderstand the reason behind your request.

“Not because I don’t want them to know about us, I- maker, it’s just that I’ve experienced so many changes in the span of a few days and I want to make sense of things without...without someone asking me too many questions about what I’m feeling. I want to let this sink in? And- and I’d like it if it’s just you and me. Please.” Mando is quiet for a while and you think that maybe it was the wrong thing to say to him.

“Us?”

You can’t hold back your laughter at the soft question and you almost fall over from how hard you’re giggling at him.

“That’s what you took away from everything I just said?” You sigh in relief when he mirrors you and chuckles in return.

“I’m sorry cyar’ika, I- of course. Whatever you need from me.” He’s a man of few words but he somehow knows what to say to calm your nerves.

“Thank you Mando.” You say as you turn your attention back to the setting sun to watch the colors change across the sky.

“Din Djarin.” He whispers to you after a long while, and you meet his eyes briefly, your furrowed eyebrows silently asking him what he was referring to.

“My name is Din Djarin.” His gaze is piercing and you find it much more intense now that you know for a fact that they’re your favorite color. “So you can start calling the other guy Mando again.” Your heart skips a beat when you see dimples appear on his cheeks as he grins at his own joke, and nudges your shoulder so you could relax into him again. You say nothing and lean against his shoulder, resting your head on his beskar armor and enjoying the cold sensation against your heated skin.

You’re not sure how long the two of you sit there in your bubble and watch the festival as it continues on for, but you’re interrupted when Fett approaches you and clears his throat to catch your attention.

“We’re leaving.” The Mandalorian says as he watches you closely. You think you’re being subtle studying his armor but Fett notices how you continue to look between him and Din’s and he tilts his head to the side as he turns to his friend and barely holds back from smirking at him.

Din nods and lets them know that you would be returning with him back to Mos Eisley. Fennec is about to ask why the two of you are acting differently when Fett shakes his head as he looks at you.

“Until next time princess,” Din’s posture straightens when he hears the nickname and narrows his eyes at the man trying to get a rise out of him.

“Usenye.” You snap out of your haze when you hear Din growl at his brother and wave goodbye to him and Fennec as they walk away from you.

“Is everything okay between the two of you?”

“Yes sweet girl, don’t worry about it.” You flush at the pet name and Din notices how you shiver at his touch when he raises your chin to take a better look at you. He slowly leans towards you, never once breaking eye contact as he grows closer to your lips. “Is- is this okay?” He asks and refuses to move a muscle until you respond to him. You’re already breathless and he has barely touched you but you muster up the courage to answer him.

“Y-yes.”

He smirks when your hoarse voice fans over his cheeks and as much as you wish for him to take whatever he wants, you’re thankful that he’s being patient with you and ensuring that you’re comfortable.

“Sweet girl,” Din whispers as he finally captures your lips in a chaste kiss. It’s at this precise moment that the festivities begin to pick up but you don’t notice the fireworks filling the skies or the music growing louder. You shut your eyes and hold onto Din’s wrists as he moves against you and deepens the kiss. When you gasp at his ministrations, Din’s hold on your neck tightens and he pushes you back until you lay on the blanket he set down for you. You moan as he slips his tongue past your lips and swirls his tongue across yours. Fisting your hands into his cowl, you try to pull him closer but cry out in pain when the beskar armor digs into your hips.

“I’m- I’m sorry mesh’la. I didn’t mean to-”

“No no it’s...it’s just your armor. I promise, I- I liked this.” You gulp nervously when you see an amused expression take over his handsome features.

“Is that so?” You don’t have time to react to his question, squealing in surprise when he suddenly stands up and pulls you along with him.

“What- where are we going?” You ask him as he pulls you through the multitude of visitors and Aki-Aki. He stops abruptly and speaks to one of the natives before he pushes you into the caravan standing behind him.

“Din, we can’t just-”

“I asked for his permission. Don’t you know, all of these are for visitors who want to stay the night.” You’re about to ask him why you’re staying the night out here instead of his ship but you can’t seem to form the question because you see Din taking his armor off.

It’s mesmerizing watching him take each beskar piece apart but when he’s down to just his clothes, it occurs to you that this night might be going somewhere else. Your nervousness must show on your face because Din walks towards you slowly and takes your hands in his. He kisses your wrists before leans over and rests his forehead against yours.

“Don’t worry cyar’ika, I’m not… I won’t- we’re not here to do anything other than talk. I didn’t feel comfortable taking my beskar off out there so-”

“I trust you Din.” You interrupt his word-vomit and lead him to one of the corners of the tent so you could lay down next to each other. When you rest your head on the pillow and finally look up, you’re met with a small opening in the ceiling of the caravan that gives you a perfect view of the blue night sky lighting up with fireworks.

When Din finally seats himself next to you, you whine in irritation and pull him down until he’s on his back next to you. Din never once lets go of your hand and he occasionally raises the palm of your hand to his lips to kiss across the skin.

“Can I ask you something?” You don’t look away from the fireworks when you speak, not wanting to miss seeing any of the vibrant shades of reds and yellows as they broke through the clouds.

“Anything sweet girl.”

“Why did you take off your helmet? I thought your Creed prevented you from showing your face.” You hope the question isn’t too insensitive or private, and when Din takes longer than you like to respond, you finally turn to him to apologize. But Din cuts you off before you can even say anything, keeping his focus on your wrist to distract him long enough so he could respond.

“I had a son once, well, he wasn’t mine physically but, he was mine. He was a foundling by Creed and I was tasked with bringing him back to his kind. It’s a long story that I could tell you another time but...when I had to give him up, I couldn’t bear the thought of him never seeing me without the helmet. I needed him to see me, to know what I willingly gave up and what I had to do to ensure his safety. I’d taken off my helmet once before and even thought it was my choice, I didn’t want to. But in that moment, before I watched him go, I decided that he was more important than my Creed. He was...he was everything to me. And it took a long time to realize that personal connections and relationships weren’t a weakness, they were a strength. My strength.” You’re not sure when you turned to your side and nuzzled into his embrace. But you couldn’t focus on anything else but him and the way his eyes twinkled in sadness when he mentioned his kid. It was a shocking admission and you never once thought of him in such a role but looking back at the last few days, you didn’t find it impossible. He was kind, quiet, sweet, adn patient.

“I keep my helmet on almost all the time but I only take it off around people I trust. I’m telling you this because- because I trust you. I trust you cyar’ika. I took it off earlier today because I wanted you to see me...and also because I was trying to pick out a gift for you. I figured if I didn’t preface it with anything that it would be less dramatic but- little did I know.” The indirect mention of the not-so-little change you experienced earlier today makes you smile.

“If I knew you needed to look into my eyes for you to see color, I would have taken off the helmet the first time I saw you.” He trails his nose across your cheek before he kisses your eyes and your forehead, smiling down at you when he sees how relaxed you feel in his arms.

“It wouldn’t have mattered.” Your response surprises him and he pulls away and looks at you quizzically.

“I- I saw you before my eyes saw you, Din. My heart chose you before my soul did. I...I think I knew when I saw you again…I think a part of me knew that you were it for me and that it didn’t matter if I didn’t see color with you because- because you were...you’re perfect.” You feel a weight lift off of your chest when you finally confess to him what you’ve been feeling for the past few days and you shift impossibly closer to him to let him know that you were telling the truth.

“I’m not perfect mesh’la.” His laugh is self-deprecating and he only stops when he feels your hand slip around his back and hold onto his shirt like your life depended on it.

“You are to me.” It’s perhaps too forward for him and Din doesn’t know how to react or respond to your confession so he nods at you and nuzzles into your neck to avoid any more of your intense emotions.

“You haven’t told me yet what your favorite color is.” He tries to change the topic, not expecting your response to shoot through his chest and into his heart like a blaster.

“Brown obviously.” You answer instantly and without hesitation.

“Why ‘obviously’?”

“Well, it’s-it’s your eye-color Din. What other color could be my favorite?”

His heart ceases to beat at your adamant reply and he pulls away again to look into your eyes to see if you were teasing him. Instead, he finds something swimming in your eyes that would have terrified his soul had he met you years ago.

“Ner kar’ta,” Din moans into your ear as he rests up on his elbow before molding his lips with yours again. You don't know what any of the Mando’a means but you have a pretty good idea of what he’s trying to convey in that moment and you wrap your arms around his neck and bring him closer to you. When he lays back down and pulls you into his side, you can’t help but take one last look at the night sky, finding the stars shimmering behind the multitude of fireworks. You watch the different colors blend with each other, and you almost cry when you see the yellows and greens and blues mixing so beautifully together to create new gradients across the galaxy.

But none of them compared to the color of Din’s eyes. And you go to sleep dreaming of the moment those kind, dark, brown orbs captured your soul and whispered affections into your heart.

Translations

Mesh’la - beautiful Cyar’ika - beloved/darling Ad’ika - little one Usenye - go away Ner kar’ta - my heart

Pedro Pascal (and any of his characters):

@pastel-0-princess @feelmyroarrrr @libbymouse @its--fandom--darling @spideysimpossiblegirl @princess76179 @cheekygeek05 @miraclesoflove @purple-mango @freeshavocadoooo @metalarmsandmanbuns @acthenerd @greeneyedblondie44 @cannedsoupsucks @purplepascal042 @talesfromtheguild @f0rever15elf @vibin-hippie @onesmokinbabe @leaiorganas @words-way-of-life @kideyz @lovesickmadsadpoet @niall7inches @rosiefridayrogersunday @tati-adventures @sleep-tight1 @itsfreeekinbats @cybergroupie @vibin-hippie @marsplsstop @mouthymandalorian @diogodxlot @janebby @juletheghoul

Din Djarin: @a--1--1--3 @tanzthompson

#din djarin x reader #din djarin/reader #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian/reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #soulmate au

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xtrashmammalstefx · 4 years

Text

Stubborn Asshole (A Zak Bagans x Reader SMUT)

WARNINGS: Smut, language, possession

Special Thanks: To @xcazzax for being an awsome reader and source of inspiration. I couldn’t do this without you girly. 🥰

I love Aaron like a brother, don’t get me wrong, but DAMN HIM FOR BRINGING SUCH AN ASSHOLE INTO MY LIFE!

Douchey McGee: Hey Aaron said to message u.

He said: Get the fuck up Y/N!

Me: Tell him I said thnx and

and 2 not have the douche do

his dirty work.

Douchey McGee: Well fuck u 2 Y/N.

I sighed and crawled out of my hotel bed. We’d flown in late the previous night and I was still exhausted. I showered and got dressed in my ripped black skinny jeans, my black GAC shirt, and combat boots. I grabbed my hoodie and purse on the way out. Downstairs in the attached restaurant the rest of the crew were gathered for breakfast and much needed coffee.

“Morning gorgeous,” Aaron greeted.

“Fuck off Goodwin, I haven’t even had my coffee yet,” I said taking my seat beside him. “And by the way since when is boss man your own personal secretary.”

“And here I thought you didn’t know me as anything but Douche McGee, douche, or my personal favorite: Stubborn asshole son of a bitch.” Zak chimed in.

“Good morning to you too Satan,” I rolled my eyes.

I swear ever since we met Zak has made it his life mission to push my buttons in any way he can. But unfortunately for this psychotic fuck, two can play that game.

“Huh that’s original,” Zak continued.

I rolled my eyes and ordered an omelet with coffee. “So you gonna tell me when you decided to make boss man your bitch?” I asked Aaron.

“Well I figured I’ve been the bitch long enough so…” Aaron said.

“Dude, since when have I ever treated you like a bitch?” Zak asked.

“Every time you forced him to stay in a fucked up room by himself during an investigation like a fucking sadist?” I pointed out.

“Oh...right…” Zak said looking like he felt a tinge of guilt.

“Does that mean I’m a bitch too since he’s been doing the same thing to me lately?” Billy chimed in.

“Unfortunately,” I said just as my breakfast arrived arrived. “Oh, thanks.” I said to the waitress.

“Only you can go from bitchy to bubbly in zero seconds flat,” Zak said.

“Fuck you too, Bagans,” I muttered taking a bite of my omelet.

“Not in this life babe,” Zak muttered taking a sip of his coffee.

It continued like that even in the car on the way to the days location: Bly Manor. According to our sources Bly Manor was built in the 1800’s by Charles Bly, an Irish immigrant who made a fortune selling liquor and tobacco. By the time of the Civil War he decided to try his hand at weapons manufacturing which earned him enough to break ground on his dream house. He lived in the manor with his family. His wife Athena, and his daughter Josephine.

It said that on a sunny afternoon while do work in the Manor’s yard a man by the name of Bishop Wiley showed up and shot him dead. Supposedly Wiley’s son Robert was a soldier in the war and was killed by the very guns Charles helped build.

Charles has since been purported sighted walking the manor grounds. His wife Athena has been seen playing the piano, and wandering the halls. As for Josephine well… she was the most famous spirit of all.

“Josephine has been seen on the balcony of the Red Room,” explained our tour guide as we interviewed her. “The story goes that Josephine had met and fallen in love with a man at a nearby farm. And just before they were due to be married he left to fight in the war. She promised to wait for him there until his return. Hopeful that they could still marry and have a family. Sadly the man lost his life in Gettysburg. Charles felt so horrible he felt the need to keep it from her. So she continued to wait. And continues to wait to this very day.”

My heart ached for Josephine. It’s a whole other level of hell to lose someone so dear… I damn near jumped when I felt his hand on my shoulder.

“Hey, you okay?” Zak asked.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” I said before following the tour guide.

We eventually took a break for lunch and then got ready for the investigation. Unlike most of the crew I made it a habit of carrying a small black backpack. I was just stuffing a recorder, spirit box, and MEL Meter when someone pat my shoulder.

“Hey are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Zak asked again.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m good, um, why the niceties?”

“I may be an asshole sometimes but I do feel for people now and then,” he said.

“Even me?” I arched an eyebrow at him. Before he could answer Aaron barged in needing to grab a spare lens for the camera.

We continued prepping in silence and then slowly but eventually the sun went down and moon shined bright.

Aaron, Zak, and I went in together. We worked together as a group for a while before (in true Zak Bagans fashion) we split up.

“Y/N I want you to stay up here for a while and see if Josephine will communicate with you,” Zak said.

“Alright,” I said stepping out onto Josephine’s balcony. Zak and Aaron disappeared through the Red Room door and I took out my recorder. “Josephine, are you here?” I started. “If so do you think you could answer a few questions for me? I promise you I mean no harm. Just speak into this little device for me.”

I felt a chill in the air but continued. “Why are you still waiting for him?” I asked. “Don’t you think he’s waiting for you on the other side?”

I suddenly felt an overwhelming feeling of sadness and anxiety. I slid down to the ground and then... He promised me. I kept thinking for some odd reason. He promised...he promised we’d go...he promised on the stars...he promised we’d be together.

The thoughts kept coming, and I don’t know when it started but I only realized I was crying when I felt someone shake me violently. “Y/N TALK TO ME DAMMIT!!!”

Zak knelt in front of me looking freaked. “D-Don’t ever leave me,” I cried. “Please don’t ever leave me.”

“Josephine leave her alone, please,” Zak asked. “I know what happened to you was cruel and unfair but that doesn’t mean she should suffer like this.” Call me crazy but Zak actually sounded kind of pissed. There was another chill and he knelt beside me again. “I’m here sweetheart…” He whispered brushing my cheek with his hand. “I’m here.”

I looked up at him and saw a face that was not his. His hair was chocolate brown and barely touched his shoulders, his eyes the same. My heart took off in joy and I threw my arms around him. He squeezed me before pulling back and taking my face in his hands. “Promise not to disappear on me again?” I asked.

“I promise,” he muttered before bringing his lips to mine. We kissed passionately as though it was a long time coming. After a while it felt like a weight lifted off me and my legs became limp. “WHOA!”

Zak caught me. It was for sure him this time. I was suddenly more aware of things...more awake. “Zak...what? What happened?”

“I dunno,” he said. “But I’m getting you the fuck out of here.”

He scooped me up in his arms and carried me all the way to the GAC van.

“You know you didn’t have to carry me right?”

“Says the girl who just nearly passed out on me,” Zak said setting me down in the back of the van.

“Um Zak did you want us to edit out the last bit of her footage or..?” Billy asked awkwardly.

“Edit it out? Why?” Zak asked. Blushing furiously Billy replayed the footage from the night vision cam we had facing the balcony. It showed me slowly crumbling and then…

“Oh sweet fucking Jesus,” I groaned as Zak and I started making out on screen.

“Uh...yeah I don’t think we need to uh-*cough*-show that,” Zak said turning back to me. “Are you, uh, gonna be okay?”

“Um...yeah I think so,” I said not entirely meeting his eye. “You-uh-you go ahead. I’m just gonna chill with Billy the rest of the night.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Now go before I drag you back in by your balls,” I threatened.

“Oh yeah you’re gonna be fine,” he said turning his back on me.

“You know you two are actually kinda hot together,” Billy said.

“What? Are you high? Zak and I can barely stand each other,” I said.

“Bull-fucking-shit Y/N,” Billy laughed. “We all can see there is insane tension going on between you. We just don’t get why you guys haven’t done anything about it.”

“What are we the hot gossip going around the office or something?”

“I mean, if this almost-porno is anything to go by...then yeah.”

“Billy I swear to God if I catching you jerking off to that—.”

“You’ll cut my nuts off I know,” he finished for me. “Besides I would never in hell jerk off to my best friend and his girl. It’s too weird.”

“I’m not his girl,” I snapped at him.

“Whatever you say Y/N,” Billy laughed. “Now did you wanna review this evidence with me or..?”

And so I did.

Once the investigation ended we packed up, caught a few minutes sleep then made our way back to Vegas.

Billy, Jay, and Aaron were dropped off first. Then it was just me and Zak.

Aaron: Try not to kill Zak please.

Me: No promises.

Zak then pulled up to my place.

“Are we never gonna talk about it?” I asked as he parked.

“What’s there to say?” he asked. “It-It was a freak incident. We-we weren’t ourselves.”

“True you were actually nice for once,” I said sarcastically.

Zak glared at me. “Go fuck yourself, Y/N.”

“Fuck me yourself you coward,” I blurted out. “I mean...um...fuck!” I sighed and stepped out of the car. I had just unlocked my door when…

“Y/N!” I turned around and saw Zak running up to me.

“Wha―” I was cut off by Zak slamming his lips to mine.

He kissed me hard, as though he was relieving an ache deep within his heart. I kissed back and clumsily opened my door. Zak picked me up, wrapping my legs around his waist and carried me to my bedroom. He placed me on the bed and I reached up to pull his shirt off. I tossed it aside and eventually more articles of clothing followed.

Zak laid me back on the bed and started pecking a trail of kisses all the way down to my heat. A moan escaped my lips as he kissed and sucked on me. “HO-HOLY SHIT!”

To say Zak knew what he was doing would be an understatement. He didn’t stop eating me until I was writhing beneath him. “Z-ZAK!” My back arched and my toes curled up in the most powerful orgasm of my life.

He crawled back up to me, smirking. “Not much of an asshole anymore, am I?”

“Oh shut up,” I brought my lips back to his as I ran my hand up and down his length which like the rest of him was thick and hard. I suddenly felt him move my hand before he reached down and placed himself at my entrance. He kissed me once more before pushing in. “FUCK! How the fuck have you been single this long?”

“Demons tends to be excellent cock blocks,” Zak said as he started to thrust. “Lucky for us, they tend to stay away from you.”

“R-Really?”

He grunted then nodded. Despite his big, tough, persona Zak was actually really sensual and passionate in bed. He kept his thrusts gentle (probably because he knew his above average size could inflict some damage if he wasn’t careful) until I urged him to go faster and harder. After a while he flipped us over so that I was on top. I rode him hard, and Zak, being a gentleman, helped me out by thrusting up into me as I did.

The tension began building up inside me. “Fuck...Zak I-I think I’m gonna…” It hit me like a wave. I tightened around him, arching my back, and damn near screaming his name.

Zak flipped us over again and continued thrusting until he grew sloppy. I suddenly felt him twitch inside me as he cursed and groaned. His body shuttered as he painted my womb with his seed. Finally he collapsed beside me, both of us breathless.

“Wow,” I said.

“I know,” Zak said.

Once my breathing was under control I turned to him. “So...what now?”

He looked over at me.

“I guess we just be together,” he said. “It’s kind of what you do when you’re insanely in love with someone.”

“You’re in love with me?” I asked.

“I’ve always been in love with you,” he smiled. “Ever since we met...I just didn’t want the spirits in my life to hurt you so I decided to keep you away.”

“What changed?”

“Besides that they for some reason stay away from you?” I nodded. “I was tired of letting them get in the way of what I want. I was tired of being away from you.” He draped his arm over my waist. “I love you.” He muttered.

“I love you too,” I said pecking him on his swollen lips.

We spent almost every day together after that. It’s been a year and we are still together. Life was the same for the most part. We still investigated places, while not in bed or spending time with each other. The guys were relieved to see us together (at last) until our PDA became a little too much for them to handle. Oh and there was one other difference as well…

“Y/N BAGANS COME GET YOUR MAN HE’S BEING FUCKING TERRIFYING AGAIN!” Aaron shouted at me through the walkie.

“What happened to having the preggo investigator hang back all night?” I asked rubbing my stomach. Zak made everyone swear not to let me into the buildings with malicious spirits and demons.

“Y/N please,” Aaron begged.

I sighed and looked down. “Aaron Nicholas Bagans for the love of god don’t be a stubborn asshole like your daddy.”

With that I exited the van and went to save the love of my life.

#zak bagans #zak bagans x reader #zak bagans imagine #Smut

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benjhawkins · 3 years

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Fortune’s Favour, Or, The Man who Met with a Mermaid and Lived to Tell the Tale

A bit of original fiction set in 1820 by yrs truly

The October gale swept through Salem Harbor with such ferocity it left us quite glad to make port and head into the nearest tavern, leaving the raging sea behind us.

The tavern was warm and crowded, many sailors seeking refuge along with several men from the Custom House, all enjoying a drink before once again braving the winds and lashing rains.

“Benjamin Hawkins, as I live and breathe!” I had scarcely walked through the tavern door and shook off the rain when a jolly, booming voice greeted me. I was delighted to espy the face of my dearest friend amongst the crowd. Seeing him after months at sea warmed my soul to such a degree that I all but ran to greet him.

“Charlie Fortune, aren’t you a sight for weary eyes,” I said, for it was true. His outstretched arms embraced me, and all my cares fell away.

“Come, have a drink and sit with us. We are sharing frightening tales and Thomas swears he saw a spectre last weekend in the old Turner house.” Charlie winked, put a tankard in my hand, and off we went.

The corner table was filled with the usual suspects, familiar tars and stevedores who called Salem home. Old friends are always a welcoming sight, and they raised their glasses in cheer when I sat down with Charlie.

“Surely Benji has a terrifying tale he can grace us with?” Thomas said, tilting his mug of ale in my direction.

“And what if I did?” I grinned.

Charlie slapped my thigh most enthusiastically. He knew what story I’d in mind.

“Have I told ye all of the mermaid?” said I.

“Ain’t no such thing as mermaids, lad,” Lefty scoffed, leaning back in his chair.

“I saw one once! In the West Indies!” Davey piped up, and was met with a few laughs from the boys.

“Do you remember the wreck of the Olinda some time past?” I asked the table.

The fellows nodded. It was big news along the wharves. Her cause of wreck was officially recorded as related to the Great Gale of Georges Bank, and she broke up upon the rocks.

“Myself being the only surviving member of the crew, I can attest to the actual reason for her sinking, and I tell you most empathetically it was due to the actions of a mermaid.”

The boys all quieted, and I leaned in to tell my tale.

“We set sail on a Friday, though we all assuredly know what bad luck it is,” I began, “and were not long departed from Salem Harbor, when Captain Rollins spied a mermaid sitting upon a rock jutting from the waves. Truth be told, though I have been at sea since I was a lad of 14, I myself never believed in mermaids until that day.”

Lefty scoffed again but was quickly scolded into silence by the boys.

Davey’s eyes grew large. “Did the mermaid have pale blue skin and dark hair? ‘Twas what the mermaid in the West Indies looked like.”

“‘Twas exactly what this mermaid looked like,” I nodded, “and she watched us from the rocks while she combed her hair, singing with the most beautifully bewitching voice one could imagine. So bewitching indeed, that our captain, God rest his soul, sailed directly towards her.”

Our little corner of the tavern was silent now, save the soft clinking of tankards and the crackling roar of the fireplace.

“Her song was sweet indeed, offering riches to fill our holds, tempting us with talk of her sisters, each one prettier than the last, all hungry for male company. Of the men of our ship I alone was resistant to her charms, and vainly pleaded with the captain to bring the ship about lest we strike the rocks. A few sailors had already jumped overboard in an attempt to swim to her, and were quickly lost in the sea. But no, the captain insisted this pretty mermaid would make a fine prize for the East India Marine Society. We hit the rocks on our starboard side.

“We heard the mermaid laugh then, but there was no merriment in it. She seemed to delight in our peril, her green eyes flashing. She was the most beautiful and the most terrifying creature I have ever beheld.”

The table sat in absolute silence, all eyes on me.

“I shall spare you the goriest details of the swift sinking of our ship, but through the pounding waves I saw I was the only man left alive. I clung to a bit of a spar and was preparing to make my peace with the world, when suddenly the mermaid jumped from her rocky perch to meet me face to face.

“Her brow was quizzical. ‘You are not like these other men,’ she mused. ‘How is it you alone are unaffected by my song?’

“I replied that surely it was because I hadn’t an ear at all for music, unlike the rest of my crew.”

Charlie elbowed me. He knew this to be a false recollection of events. But the truth of it shall never be uttered in a crowded tavern.

“Go on then, Ben,” he said with twinkling eye. “What happened next?”

“She gave me a pearl earring, and in exchange--for one must never fail to return a mermaid’s gift in kind--I gave her a gold ring engraved with an anchor, meant as a token for a sweetheart. She promised me fair winds and following seas as long as I should wear the pearl, and I asked her to give the ring to someone she truly loved. She said she had just the mermaid in mind, blew me a kiss, and leapt beneath the waves, leaving me alone and adrift as the seas quieted.”

I pulled off my hat at this moment and turned my head, to show the company that a fine pearl did indeed ornament my ear.

Lefty shook his head while Davey stared in wonderment, and still everyone was silent. Quite a satisfactory reaction.

“I’ll drink to that,” said Charlie, offering his tankard in salute. We all drained our drinks in one go.

Before long, it was time to take our leave.

“Gentlemen, the company has been most edifying, but I’m afraid I must escort young Mr. Hawkins to his room for the night,” Charlie said with a wink, reaching for his hat and coat. We bade them all goodnight, and out we stepped into clear moonlight, marveling at how quickly the gale had passed.

“You left out my favorite part of the tale,” Charlie said, once we were well out of earshot of the tavern. “Won’t you tell me again?” he pleaded, laughing.

“You know well that’s between God and myself,” I teased, but told him as it went.

“In truth, the mermaid had spoken thus: ‘You are not like these other men, for the love in your heart is different. Your heart belongs not to a woman, nor to silver, nor to gold.’

“‘Indeed,’ I told her, thinking I had nothing else to lose, ‘though I have traveled the seas since I was a lad, sailed innumerable times round the Horn, I always come back to Salem, and to my one love Charlie Fortune.‘”

Here Charlie sighed. “That is my favorite part.”

“Let me tell it!” I laughed. “She then said, ‘I have lived thousands of years and will live a thousand more and I can sense the rare love that radiates from your heart for your Charlie Fortune.’”

“She saved you because you declared your love for me!” Charlie’s hand flew to his breast, and he laughed again.

“She saved me because she liked your ring,” I gave him a wink.

We continued our merry banter until we reached Charlie’s boarding rooms, and I gladly let myself be led in, his hand warm on the small of my back.

I was truly home at last.

#age of sail #original fiction #pls enjoy!!#do let me know if there are problems with the readmore cut

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suckmysupernatural · 4 years

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Meal Plan

Word Count: 2k, one shot

Pairing: Jensen x Reader (Platonic-ish)

Warnings: talk of meal plan (obvi), eating disorder tendencies, vomitting, unhealthy relationship, body insecurity, manipulation

Summary: You are so happy to return to the set of Supernatural and film with your best friends, Jared and Jensen. You feel and look great, although your boyfriend Jeff begs to differ. Jensen soon finds out about the unhealthy ways you have been losing weight.

A/N: Hey, y’all! This is my first Jensen fic, let me know what you think!!

You couldn’t help that you had a bounce in your step as you made your way onto the lot. The hiatus was finally over, and it was time to start filming. You had been on Supernatural for a little over three seasons now, playing a badass hunter that had teamed up with the Winchesters. It was the job you had always dreamed about.

Your first day on set, you knew that you were a part of something special. Right away the cast and crew welcomed you with open arms, especially your new co-stars. Jared and Jensen had become two of your best friends, ones you had missed a lot over the break. You lived in Austin like the boys, but your busy schedules always seemed to conflict. You had only one dinner with them over the summer at Jared’s house. Seeing Gen and the kids was a blast... if only you could do it more often.

“Y/N!” a deep voice cried out. You spotted the boys almost immediately, jogging up to them. Jared wasted no time picking you up into a tight hug.

“Jar… I can’t breathe,” you whined before he set you down.

“Sorry, Y/N. It has just been forever since I’ve seen you!” Jared gushed. You turned over to Jensen, who hugged you as well. Luckily, this one wasn’t bone-crushing.

“We missed you,” Jensen said, holding onto you. Backing up, you looked at your two friends.

“I know, I know. I was just so busy with Jeff…” both of the men rolled their eyes at the mention of your current boyfriend’s name. “Okay, I know you guys don’t love him, but we wanted to spend as much time together as possible before shooting started up again.”

“Saying we don’t love him is an understatement, Y/N. I don’t get what you see in him,” Jared said. Jared and Jensen had only met Jeff a few times, all of which only made them worry more.

“He cares about me. He takes really good care of me!” you tried to push your point but got nowhere. Both of the men didn’t seem to budge from their opinions. Changing the conversation, the three of you headed over to hair and makeup to get ready for the day.

--------------------------

After a week of filming, you were exhausted. The days were all long, and you couldn’t wait to get home and sleep all weekend. Walking into your apartment, you made your way over to the freezer to grab some ice cream. You wanted some of your favorite feel-good food. Almost as soon as you had settled down, your phone began to ring. Jeff wanted to Facetime. Answering the call, you let a bright smile fall onto your face.

“Hey, baby!” you said as your boyfriend’s face popped onto the screen.

“Hey. How are you?” Jeff asked.

“Tired. This week has been pretty brutal,” you responded as you began to dig into your ice cream.

“Are you sure you should be eating that?” Jeff asked, his head tilting to one side.

“What do you mean?”

“Well… you did put on some weight this summer. I know that you were relaxing and all. But now that you are back at work, I thought you were gonna take better care of yourself. I’m just worried about you is all. I know that looking good for the camera is a big part of your job,” Jeff explained. You put the spoon back into the ice cream and pushed it away from you. “I didn’t say that to make you feel bad! I just care about you; I want you to be healthy and happy with the way you look on screen.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re right. I have a scene this week where I wear a tight dress. Should’ve thought about it,” you mumbled. You had wondered if you gained weight, Jeff made it clear that you had.

“It’s alright, sweetheart. That’s why you have me. I’ll be here to remind you when you need it. I fell for one hot piece of ass that I don’t intend to lose to Tom and Jerry anytime soon,” Jeff laughed. You nodded and attempted to laugh along.

“I guess I just have terrible eating habits now,” you shrugged.

“Well, why don’t I make you a meal plan? Then you won’t need to worry about that. It’ll make each day easier, let you focus on your job,” Jeff offered.

“Um… yeah, sure. That would be great,” you forced a smile. The two of you talked on the phone for a few more minutes before hanging up. You got off of the couch and tossed the ice cream into the trash. You wouldn’t be eating it. Going into your bedroom, you stripped down to your panties and bra before looking into the mirror. Jeff was right; you were looking bigger than usual. Laying on the floor, you began to do sit-ups and crunches until your core was on fire. Only then did you let yourself shower off the day and go to bed.

-------------------------------------------

Two weeks into Jeff’s meal plan and you were already looking better. Jeff had been praising you, telling you how hot you looked now. It was hard to keep up, the meals always leaving you wanting more. A few times you almost slipped up but managed to avoid it. Walking onto the set, you smiled and waved at your friends before approaching them.

“Hey, guys!” you smiled at Jared and Jensen. The two seemed glued at the hip.

“Hey. So, we were thinking about pizza and beer at my place tonight?” Jensen offered. This was a regular occurrence for the three of you, having done so since you started the role on the show.

“Oh, I’m actually on a diet. No pizza or beer for me,” you shrugged, “maybe we can have a movie night one day this week?” Both Jared and Jensen looked confused.

“Diet? Since when have you been on a diet?” Jared asked.

“For a few weeks now. I noticed that over the summer, I kinda let myself go. Jeff has been super helpful about it. He even made me a meal plan so that I wouldn’t have to worry about it. Isn’t that sweet?” you smiled.

“Let yourself go? Y/N, you look good! Like you always have,” Jensen’s voice was laced with frustration.

“It’s fine, J, you don’t need to try and make me feel better. The meal plan is working great. I mean, I look a lot better now,” you told them before leaving to go to your trailer. Jared and Jensen both gave each other a look. They were worried about you.

--------------------------

A few days later, you were in line for craft services when you realized none of the options would go along with Jeff’s plan. You poured yourself some tomato soup and grabbed a grilled cheese before heading back to your trailer. Digging in, you knew that you would have to work out extra hard to make up for the calories. Pulling out your phone, you shot a text over to your boyfriend.

Y/N: Hey, babe. Craft services didn’t have anything that I could eat from the plan. Grabbed tomato soup and grilled cheese instead. Hope that’s okay.

Within a few minutes, you got your response.

Jeff: No, that’s not okay. Setbacks will only make things harder for you. You can’t let all those carbs and calories just sit in your stomach…

Y/N: Well, what am I supposed to do.

Jeff: You have to get rid of it. This is what happens when you go off your meal plan. Go to the bathroom and put your fingers down your throat. You don’t want fans to see you as fat, right?

Looking at your phone, you took a few deep breaths. Your heart was racing as you looked up at your now empty plate. He was right. You didn’t want people to think of you as the fat actress. What if people spread rumors that you were pregnant? You knew what you had to do.

Getting up, you made your way into the trailer’s small bathroom. Kneeling in front of the toilet bowl, you stuck your fingers down your throat.

----------------------------------------

Another week went by and you were messing up your meal plan left and right. At least now you knew what you could do to fix it. You had lost even more weight but knew that you still had a long way to go before you looked like the other actresses on set.

Today was one of those days where craft services didn’t have anything that Jeff would deem appropriate, so you grabbed whatever you felt like. In your trailer, you ate until you were full before making your way to the bathroom. After being there for a few minutes, the door to your trailer swung open. Before you could do anything, there Jensen was, standing in the doorway of your bathroom.

“Y/N, are you oka - wait, what are you doing?” Jensen’s eyes widened in shock at the sight before him. You quickly got up, flushing the toilet, and wiping your mouth.

“I think I have food poisoning or something. It made me puke, it’s no big deal,” you shrugged before trying to get passed him. He stood still, his broad shoulders keeping you from leaving.

“No, that’s not what happened. What I just saw was you with your fingers down your throat. Why would you do that?” Jensen’s voice was laced with pain. You looked down at the ground, unable to meet your best friend’s eye.

“I needed to…” you whispered.

“What?”

“I...um… I went off my diet,” you shrugged your shoulders, “I needed to fix it.”

“Y/N….” Jensen pulled you into a hug, not letting go. “You don’t need to do any of that. You are perfect just the way you are.”

“But Jeff…”

“Jeff?” Jensen leaned back to look you in the eye, his hands on your shoulder, “did Jeff tell you that you need to lose weight?”

“He just wants what’s best for me! He wants me to look good. Jeff keeps me on track.”

“Wait… did he tell you to make yourself throw up,” Jensen asked. His eyes were full of worry and you couldn’t look at them without feeling shame.

“He suggested it when I fucked up the first time… it wasn’t supposed to be more than once. I just kept messing up,” you could feel the tears start to gather in your eyes. Jensen pulled you into the hug again, one hand on the back of your head to stroke your hair. It didn’t take long before you were crying, Jensen holding you as you sobbed.

“Y/N, you are worth so much more than this. You deserve someone who treats you better, who loves you exactly as you are. You are beautiful, talented, smart. Please, believe me when I say that.”

“I want to J, I do. It’s just… I don’t,” you looked up to meet his gaze. Jensen used his thumbs to wipe the tears from your eyes and held your face.

“That’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll tell you every day until you do. Y/N… you need to leave Jeff. He is hurting you.”

“O-okay. You’re right. Can you stay with me while I call him?” you hoped that Jensen would say yes. It felt too hard to do on your own, after everything.

“Sweetheart, I will always be there for you,” Jensen tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

That night you called Jeff, breaking things off. Before he even had the chance to insult you, Jensen was taking the phone from you. He told Jeff off before hanging up the phone and repeating all the kind words he had said earlier in the day.

Jensen had told you the truth. Every day he made sure to remind you how amazing you were. He supported you through it all, helping you throughout your recovery. It wasn’t easy, undoing the damage that Jeff had done, but you weren’t in it alone.

#jensen #jensen one shot #jensen x reader #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles one shot #spn #supernatural #spn fic #jensen fic #rpf #supernatural rpf #supernatural fanfic #supernatural one shot #spn one shot #one shot #supernatural reader insert #reader insert fic #spn reader insert

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years

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Stay Safe Part Five: Dark Past

Fandom: The Mandalorian [Star Wars]

Pairing: Eventual Mandalorian [Din Djarin]/Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: At last, broskis! We have come to what is arguably my favorite episode thus far. I hope this installment is to your satisfaction. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @wrestlingfae @toxiicpop @helplessly-nonstop @culturalrebel @literal-fand0m-trash @sinnamon-bunn @fioccodineveautunnale @hxldmxdxwn @lizajane3 @thewaythisis @nellyneko @absurdthirst

Part One: Should Have Known Better

Part Two: Tranquil Turmoil

Part Three: Vibroblade Mettle

Part Four: Reaching Out

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains allusions to PTSD, and vividly vague mentions of past trauma. Stay safe!]

"The worst possible thing has finally happened." You announced, thumping your head against the empty shelf. "We're all out of the nutrient paste. Y'know, the good one." You glanced over at the armored man, who was currently sorting through another one of his many crates. "This is the end. I'll have to go back to aurelac mining just to eke out a living." You continued, dramatically slumping to the floor.

You were only half-joking, of course. The variety of food was waning, but at least there was still sustenance to be had. The real issue was credits, or the lack thereof. Nutrient paste wouldn't buy repairs.

"No. No mining. I need all my appendages." The Mandalorian mumbled, his mind clearly elsewhere. He roused himself after a moment, looking over at you. "It's not that bad, we still have some reserves." He said, gesturing vaguely at the small pile of dented cans and faded-looking tubes beside him on the deck. "I'll...I'll get in touch with someone."

"It's too late for us, my metalline companion. You must...take the child…"

"You keep these antics up and I'll sell you to the Hutts." The Mandalorian teased, reaching out to squeeze your chin playfully. "Bet they'd offer me good credits for you, what with your strong back and skills with the younglings." You could hear his smile and your heart tripped a little.

"You would sell me?!" You gasped, pretending to reel with shock. "This betrayal will not stand. Avenge me, child!" You flung a hand out towards the baby, who stared at it for several seconds wide-eyed before proceeding to gnaw gently on your index. "There, you see that? They are swearing a blood oath to free me from your cruelty."

"Uh huh." The Mandalorian didn't sound particularly convinced, his hand still cupping your chin. For whatever reason, you got the impression that he was mulling something over in his mind. Something a little heavier than your lighthearted joking with the child.

"Are you alright?" You asked softly after a minute, putting your hand over his own.

He started at the sound of your voice, jerking his gauntlet away like your touch had burned him. You tried not to let it get to you. It might be that he just didn't like being touched; it was entirely within his right to shy away.

"I'm...yeah." He assured you, grabbing the lip of the crate to haul himself upright with a grunt. "There's just--it's complicated. I've got an idea, I don't know…" he trailed off.

"What's the problem? Talk to me, maybe I can help."

Instead of answering, the man headed up the ladder into the cockpit. You dusted your knees off and hoisted the child, clambering up the ladder one-handed in pursuit of the armored man.

The Mandalorian had apparently begun calculating new coordinates, the sextant whirring to life as he cycled through the charts. "We're going to see an old friend of mine." He announced from his position in the pilot's seat.

"Why do I feel like you don't mean an actual friend?" The armored man yet again didn't deign to answer you immediately and you groaned, setting the child down on the co-pilot seat and stretching your arms out over your head.

"He owes me a favor."

"Mm, what kind?"

"The kind that I can get payment out of." The Mandalorian said curtly.

"You don't seem to be too excited to visit this friend of yours."

"Things have changed since the last time we worked together." His words were quiet, contemplative. "There were...a lot of jobs I did back then that I wouldn't touch now."

It hadn't occurred to you that he had fallen into bounty hunting as a cleaner occupation. What could he have been involved in that made collecting dangerous, often violent criminals for a living seem like the better career path? Maker, you wanted to ask, the curiosity burned at you. But if you had learned anything about the stoic man in the time that you had spent traveling together, it was that he only spoke when he saw fit to.

"I want you and the kid in the bunk for the duration of these negotiations." He muttered after several minutes of silence. "These are rough people and I don't need any distractions."

He didn't mention Calican by name and you were grateful for that much. It stung a little that he still considered you a distraction after that tense standoff. Nuisance. You nodded all the same, focused on the floor plating. "I understand."

You could say that you did, anyway.

Fake it 'til you make it, I guess.

...

You got the feeling that something may have gone a bit funny in the negotiations. The Mandalorian hadn't mentioned anything about having to use his own ship for the job.

You could hear muffled voices on the other side of the bunk's shutter, and you had departed the station ages ago. Where were you headed?

There was a sudden, hollow rattle from the outside. Beskar. He had moved quickly, for whatever reason. It was a strange comfort to know that he wasn't in the cockpit, but here in the hold keeping an eye on the individuals he was working with. Though that begged the question of who might be piloting the craft.

Something large struck the wall beside the shutter with a dull boom, the impact making you jump. What were they doing out there? You moved your eyes from the wall back down to the child, who had just rolled their ball to you yet again.

Another impact, and this time there was a loud beep! That was the lock for the retractor on the bunk hatch, which meant--

The bunk shutter slid up into the ceiling, revealing yourself and the baby sitting on the bed. You paused mid-motion, raising an imperious eyebrow at the motley crew of characters that filled the hold.

An eternal second passed where a bald human man, a Twi'lek woman, a large Devaronian and the Mandalorian just...gawked at you.

"Sweetheart, you didn't tell me we were having guests!" You exclaimed in feigned surprise, doing your best to appear like you weren't scrambling to figure out a solution to this problem. "I would have picked the place up if I had known!"

Fake it 'til you make it, right?

The Mandalorian stayed stock-still as you climbed out of the bunk, the child secure in your arms. "I'm so sorry about the state of the hold, everyone." You apologized profusely with a bow, "it's difficult to keep everything tidy. Little ones, you know how they are!" The hulking Devaronian who was half-in, half-out of the refresher appeared downright flummoxed when you brushed past him to stand by the Mandalorian, while the bald man across the way quickly adopted a calculating look.

"Is this yours, Mando? Did you two make this?" He asked, grinning broadly as he got to his feet. "Look at you! Look at those ears!" He chuckled, moving in to fawn over said ears on the child. "Can I hold him?"

"I'd really rather you-" In a clean jerk of movement, he swept the baby out of your arms. "-Didn't." You finished, less scared and more irritated now. Just who did this guy think he was?!

The Twi'lek woman, who had been silent up until this point, started to giggle quietly to herself. The noise set your teeth on edge, to say nothing of the openly hostile look she was giving the Mandalorian. "I didn't take you for the type, Mando." She crooned, a small knife winding its way back and forth between her deft fingers. "Maybe that code of yours has made you soft." You knew an insult when you heard it, and you wondered what history the Mandalorian might share with her to warrant such a caustic reaction.

You could feel the tension rolling off of the Mandalorian in waves while the bald man toyed with the child. You took in the bracer of pistols he wore and your stomach twisted with nerves. The last thing you needed was more blasters near the child. "Me, I could never really get into the idea of havin' kids. Didn't have the temperament for it." The man remarked, "patience, y'know."

The baby's face scrunched up threateningly, heralding a deafening wail of distress. "Oh, quick, let me see him, he's going to pitch a fit." You said hurriedly.

No sooner had you stepped forward to take the child back (possibly by force) than an unfamiliar mechanical voice announced, "dropping out of hyperspace...now."

You barely managed to snatch the baby away from the bald man before everyone in the hold was thrown off their feet, the whole ship rolling under the strain of the abrupt change in navigation.

"Commencing final approach...now."

You stayed where you landed and clutched the child tight to your chest, ducking your head in case some of the cargo pulled loose. The ship banked hard and your body slid sideways on the floor.

"Cloaking signal...now."

Metal hit the deck on either side of you with a stereo clang!, making the child start to bawl but preventing you from sliding any further. An armored thigh plowed roughly between your legs and your eyes sprang open on reflex, sighing in relief when you were greeted with the familiar sight of the Mandalorian's visor. "Don't move." He muttered as the ship continued to pitch and sway.

You nodded, more than content to stay exactly where you were. His body caged in your own, solidly-armored form providing shelter for both you and the child. "Thank you." You breathed.

He merely shrugged in reply.

"Engaging coupling...now." The voice intoned overhead. The Crest plummeted and the Mandalorian swore under his breath, bracing himself on his forearms as his body was pushed down against your own from the force of the drop. The ship finally came to a stop with a rough shudder that made your teeth rattle in your skull.

"Coupling confirmed. We are down. And relax. Commence extraction now."

The Mandalorian propped himself up with one arm, curling his other protectively around you and the squalling child. "Everyone alright?" He rasped after a few seconds had passed. "Status report."

"That useless droid didn't even give us a proper countdown!" The Twi'lek spat, getting shakily to her feet.

"It's a droid, Xi'an. Y' expect too much. Now, are you two gonna' be able to be friends during this or am I gonna' have to put you in time out?" The bald man inquired, gesturing between the Mandalorian and the Devaronian. "Remember Burg, Mando let us use his ship."

"Al-right Mayfeld." The large man groused, struggling to extract himself from the refresher. "But you had better shut up that baby before I make it into a snack."

Your body tensed at his threat and you heard the Mandalorian chamber a round for his flamethrower, the click deafeningly loud in the relative quiet of the hold.

"Easy, easy. Burg, you gotta' be respectful." The bald man stressed the word, shooting you an apologetic grimace. "Flyin' makes him anxious."

"Making me anxious too." You managed to get out, using the hem of your tunic to mop some of the tears off of the kid's face. They had faded into sniffling and snorting, worn out from the scare and subsequent bumpy ride. You moved to sit up and the Mandalorian shifted back onto his haunches, one hand on your shoulder. You patted his hand and he squeezed gently before he rose to stand once more.

Mayfeld called up the ladder, "Z, are you sure they can't see us?"

"The Razor Crest is scrambling our signature, and I am inside the prison system. It's impressive that this gunship had survived the Empire without being impounded." The automated voice replied from the cockpit.

"Alright we got a job to do. Mando! You're up." The bald man ordered, gesturing at the floor port.

You saw the brief hesitation where the Mandalorian considered not obeying, but then he heaved a sigh and started rummaging around for something in one of the many crates.

"So, he never takes that thing off?" Mayfeld asked curiously as the Mandalorian crouched to work on the hatch encryption.

"Never. And I wouldn't ask him to." You replied firmly, bouncing the still-whimpering child on your hip.

"You don't know his name or what he looks like, and you're bumpin' uglies with him?" Mayfeld's incredulous tone made you wish the ground would swallow you. "That's nuts."

"I know him. That's really what's important in a relationship, isn't it?" You posited cooly, spying the Mandalorian squaring his shoulders underneath his cloak. Whether he did it consciously or not, it was a little humorous to see someone as stoic as he was blatantly preening. "Knowing a person has always been about way more than just knowing their name or what they look like. Knowing a person is…" You paused thoughtfully, keenly aware of the daggers Xi'an was glaring at you. "Well, there's just more to it that a lot of people don't seem to understand."

"Oh you'll fit right in with their merry little band of Creed-followers." The Twi'lek woman murmured, her tone sarcastic as she enquired, "I suppose you'll be getting your helmet fitted shortly?"

"Why do you think I'm doing this job in the first place?" The Mandalorian growled. No one was caught more off-guard than you, and you barely managed to stop yourself from shooting Xi'an a smug smile. "Beskar isn't cheap." He continued, free hand reaching back to wrap carefully around your ankle. "Plus, I'd have to surrender a piece of my beskar to be smelted in with their new helmet's beskar." He tapped his scored breastplate with the crypto device, which carried on beeping. "Need a lot more wear and tear than this before I can justify that level of commitment."

It was a legitimate struggle to keep from laughing out loud at Mayfeld's continued expression of bewilderment. "You Mandalorian guys are even more ridiculous than I thought." He muttered as the crypto pinged.

The hatch slid open with a soft click, and the Mandalorian got back to his feet to coil and stow the cabled device.

After some light bickering amongst the group, Mayfeld graciously agreed to go first. "You better hang onto this one, Mando." He joked, whacking a hand into the armored man's pauldron and then gesturing up and down at you. "Otherwise, I may just steal 'em for myself. If they're crazy enough to get freaky with you, maybe they'll settle for a guy who's a little more...normal." The smile he directed at you didn't reach his eyes, all teeth like a hungry animal.

You chose to heroically ignore his attempt at teasing you or inciting wrath in your 'partner'. "Stay safe, love." You crooned sweetly, deliberately attempting to be as saccharine as possible while you perched up on your tiptoes to touch your forehead to the Mandalorian's helm.

His hand found your own, fingers twining clumsily together. "You too," he hesitated before gruffly mumbling, "love."

Xi'an followed after Mayfeld (making a gagging noise at the Mandalorian as she went), and then Burg dropped like a brick into the ship below. That was the last of his team departed through the hatch and yet he still stood there, just staring down at you.

"Was that too mu-" you began to whisper, only to have him cut you off by shoving you bodily against the wall. You started to stammer out another apology but ended up falling silent when he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close. One large hand cradled the back of your neck while the other gripped your tunic at the small of your back, and he leaned down to touch his helm to the top of the child's head.

The embrace reeked of a strangely-poignant possessiveness that had your heart aching, causing you to almost mourn the loss of him when his hold loosened. "I'm so damn sorry." He muttered, releasing you fully and turning towards the hatch.

You caught his hand before he could leave. "H-Hey, I meant what I said." You mumbled, half-hoping he didn't hear you. His head jerked to the side to look at you and your confidence waned considerably under his expressionless gaze, making you drop your eyes to the floor. "Y'know, um, stay safe." You chickened out. Really, how could you have thought you would get away with telling him something like that? Seconds before he headed off to do something he had clear reservations about doing?

He was still for several seconds before he shook his head and swung himself down to the ladder. "Stay in the bunk." He instructed, and then he too was gone.

…

Time passed at a slow crawl while you were sequestered in the bunk space. You did your best to keep the child occupied and quiet, astonishing them via a cat's cradle made from your boot laces.

You thanked the stars again and again that the kid hadn't been hurt when the ship landed, your hip still aching from how rough it had been for you. At the same time you staunchly avoided musing on the Mandalorian's body over your own, how quickly he had moved to protect you. It didn't bear thinking about. Just like his embrace before he had left, solid beskar molding to the curves of your body.

Didn't mean anything. He was making certain the child was safe. If you were safe as well, it was strictly by proxy.

You shook your head at your silly thoughts, then stopped abruptly when you heard footsteps above you. You hushed the baby, moving them a little further back in the bunk as those footsteps shifted to impacts on the metal ladder.

Stay in the bunk. The Mandalorian's words echoed in your ears and you swallowed hard. Stay in the bunk, but what if someone comes for me while you're gone? What then?

You heard someone fumbling with the keypad and you held your breath, hoping against hope that whoever was on the other side of the door wouldn't be able to figure out the combination. Please, please, just this once. But despite your fervent prayers, you saw the shutter begin to rise for the second time that day.

It was a compound-eyed droid. The aforementioned Z, if you had to guess. They stood in front of you, head cocked slightly to the side as if to study you. "Curious." They mused flatly. Then, they raised their rifle.

Frantically, you scrambled for a plan. You weren't fast enough to outmaneuver a droid in a shootout. You didn't even have a blaster! Your knife was still strapped to your leg, precious little good it did you there.

Cold reality dawned on you, that this...this could be it. The baby whined warily and you shifted your body, bracing your arm on the wall and doing your best to be a human shield for the child. "It'll be alright, sweetheart." You whispered to them, swallowing your panic to reassure them as best as you could. "I won't let them hurt you."

You heard a whir of servos and you squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation, unable to keep from cringing at the harsh report of the rifle. It sounded even louder in the cramped space. You waited for the pain, even though you had felt no blaster bolt impact. You assumed you were already in shock, ears ringing with the echoes of the gun.

Instead, a leather-gloved hand seized your arm, dragging you and the child out of the bunk space. You covered the baby's head, tucking them into the crook of your arm in an effort to protect them from the next attack. "No!" You cried, trying to struggle out of the person's grip so you could grab your knife. "No! Let me go, or I'll-!"

Metal met your shoulder and you heard a ragged exhale of, "shit." At the familiar sound of that modulated voice, you dared to open your eyes.

The droid was on the floor, a hole blown in its headgear. Most of your field of vision was taken up by a large form clad in beskar, whose forehead was resting on your shoulder.

"Oh." You said softly, concerned when you felt him sag against you. His other forearm hit the wall above your head, taking some of his not-insubstantial weight off of you.

There was a wound between his breastplate and pauldron, still slowly trickling blood onto his flight suit. "I don't have much time." He said hoarsely. "Have to get that Twi' back so I get paid. Qin."

"Tell me what you need from me." Bold offer, when your legs still felt like gelatin. The fingers of your free hand grappled the sleeve of his flight suit, holding it tightly. Maker, you had thought you were dead.

Relief and dread rushed through you in equal parts when he said, "Qin's out cold for the time being. Need you to stay in the bunk until I come get you." He hesitated, swallowing hard. "Please."

"When this is all over, I'm not going anywhere near that bunk ever again." You threatened weakly.

"That's fine." He nodded against your shoulder. "Just a little while longer. Qin is getting me triple from Ran."

"We'll see about that." You huffed. He straightened up, then leaned in to press his helmet to your forehead. You closed your eyes, not able to handle being studied at that moment. "I-I thought it was going to kill the-"

"I know." The Mandalorian breathed. "I'm sorry."

"I was so scared." You admitted, your voice cracking. The hold you had on his suit tightened even further. "M' sorry, you're the one who's hurt but I can't seem to get myself together." You shook your head with a sad little laugh, moving to pull away.

The armored man kept you where you were though, his hands framing your shoulders. "I promise. We'll be safe once I deliver that Twi' to Ran, at least for a little while." He drew his thumb down the center of his breastplate, then tapped the chin of his helm with two fingers. "Promise."

"I'll hold you to it." His helmet hung mere inches from your face, and you stood on your tiptoes to press your forehead to his once more. "Do what you need to do. We'll be here." You promised, mustering up a smile. "Stay safe."

His hand wrapped around your wrist, squeezing for a second. "Wait for me. This won't take long."

…

In spite of your trepidation you ended up dozing off with the words to the lullaby on your lips, thoroughly worn out from your trying day. The child was glued to your side, snoring quietly even as you drifted in and out of consciousness.

Thinking back, all you could recall was hearing the ramp hiss open, the hollow echo of voices in a large hangar space. After that, just the smooth hum of hyperspace travel.

When the Mandalorian finally came to retrieve you, even the unflappably stoic bounty hunter seemed like he had gone through the wringer. His steps were unsure, and he clung to a cargo net despite the level deck. "Need your help." He said thickly once you had swung your legs out of the bunk space.

Instantly awake at those words, you left the child to nap peacefully and followed the armored man back up the ladder to the cockpit. There, he all but fell into the pilot seat.

"Something's wrong." He muttered. "It's just a cut, but something…" He trailed off, shaking himself after a moment. "Can't focus."

"What do you need me to do?" You asked.

"Hands aren't steady. Need...need to get the beskar off. Peel the suit. Fix the damage." He sounded breathless, like he was rushing to force the words out.

"You have to walk me through this, okay? I won't touch anywhere you don't want me to touch, but I need your help."

"Just-" He cut himself off with a low groan. "Gods, my head. That rancor-sized bastard broke every knob in that stupid control room off with my helmet."

"Hey." You murmured, placing a careful hand on top of his own. "Stay with me."

"Right. Important." His helmet rolled back for a moment. "Dammit, come on." He snapped in frustration, shaking his head. Fumbling fingers unlatched his beskar breastplate, the metal clicking softly as he pulled it from its gription mount.

Next came the mount straps for his pauldrons, and here was where he really needed some help. The latches were worn to a smooth bronze patina, sliding out from beneath his shaky hands again and again. You carefully placed your fingers around his own, guiding him through undoing the simple fasteners before you tugged his pauldrons free. The harness slowly flopped forward, then landed on the floor with a muffled clunk.

He exhaled hard and started dragging at the upper zippers of his flight suit, quickly getting them caught for his trouble. "Sweetheart, hang on." The endearment slipped out automatically, your mind already focused on this next insurmountable task. "Let me do this for you, okay?"

He lolled his head against his shoulder silently, dropping his hands to rest on his thighs. You stepped closer in between his legs and then slowly worked free the jam he had created for himself.

One of the Mandalorian's hands suddenly flew up, grabbing your sleeve. "Didn't kill anyone." He slurred, almost panicky. "I swear. It was all droids, and the one guy...Xi'an killed him, not me, I t-tried to talk him down, and Xi'an..."

"I believe you." You assured him, gently patting his hand. "It's over now, okay?"

"Xi'an killed him, I just…" He trailed off, his head falling forward to rest on his chest. He might have been watching you fight with the zipper. "Told Mayfeld to ask about Alzoc Three, that bitch." He muttered, "like it was a joke. Like it was a joke. Alzoc Three was a nightmare, Ran almost died, I couldn't get the klesir...the smell…" He actually retched, "Burning, and I did what I had to but…they all had so many eyes, and it was so dark--"

"Whoa, hey. What are you even talking about?" You interrupted him, more than a little concerned. It wasn't like him to rattle off on such a wild tangent, frantic.

"Mines, we were sent into the mines blind. They didn't tell us about the T-Talz." He rambled on like you hadn't said anything, gesturing with one hand. "Dark. Cold. Talz, enslaved, mining...their whole lives, dying in those pits and it reeked like hatred."

Your hands went still on his zipper when his voice cracked. He sounded seconds from weeping, his next words punching indelicate through the modulator.

"Imps shove the young ones into the pits. Say their fur will cushion the fall. I landed in a pile of bodies." He breathed. "So many little ones. Tiny, tiny...tiny bodies, and the klesir, the death-rot, I-I--"

You abandoned the fight with his zipper to shift forward, mindful of his wound as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His helmet dug into your collarbone and you laid your cheek on top of it, feeling his shoulders tremble slightly. "You're not there anymore." You whispered, cradling the back of his helmet like you did for the child's head.

"It's s-so dark…" He mumbled brokenly into your tunic. "Came at me with a rock crusher and I couldn't--I couldn't...oh gods..."

"Shh, sweetheart." You shifted your hand lower, resting your fingers tentatively against the exposed skin on the back of his neck. He felt fever-hot, the area clammy and damp with sweat. "It's alright now. You're here with me. Breathe, okay? Just keep your face there and focus on breathing. We'll get through this together."

"Did that bitch poison me?" The Mandalorian half-sobbed, grasping desperately at your arms. "I can't keep my eyes open. Can't...can't keep them open...g-gods, it's so dark…"

"Love, look at me." You coaxed him, holding the sides of his helmet steady. "You're on your ship. The child is safe. You're safe."

"Are you sure?" He asked, the uncertainty in his voice breaking your heart.

Fake it 'til you make it.

"I promise."

"The kid-"

"They're asleep in the bunk right now. Do you want me to get them?"

"No, no." He waved the suggestion off, nearly hitting you with the haphazard motion. "S'okay. I believe you." His hands dropped to rest on your tunic over your hips, fingers clenching tight in the fabric as if he was trying to ground himself with your presence.

With a little creative positioning and more than a few swears, you managed to get the flight suit peeled down to his elbows without dislodging his helmet. The liner shirt you resorted to shoving up until it was out of the way, finally getting a good look at the damage.

He was littered in bruises. The angry contusion from that sniper bolt had mercifully faded, but in its place bloomed a veritable forest of new, smaller marks. Rounding out all these fresh acquisitions was the stab wound. It wasn't particularly large, though it sank deep into the tissue that connected his shoulder to his chest. If it didn't heal properly, it might impede his movement.

A strange, bluish residue darkened the dried blood at the edges of the wound. Your eyes narrowed. "Do you have an anti-tox kit? There's some crud here I don't like the look of."

"Blue?" When you nodded he reached for his belt, finally tugging free a small vial from a side loop. "Bathe area with half." He instructed, his breathing ragged again. The minute effort had clearly worn him out, which was incredibly worrisome.

You nodded, rubbing his shoulder comfortingly. "I need you to lie down, okay? Otherwise this will just run off."

The bleary Mandalorian gamely left the chair and dropped onto the floor, his normally-smooth motions reduced to something resembling clumsy puppeteering. You rummaged through the rear compartments for one of your clean rags and a bacta patch. This was no simple mark from a gaudy belt buckle, after all.

"I can't b-believe she poisoned me." He remarked faintly, sounding indignant. "What the hell did I ever do t' her?"

"Maybe you were just too devastatingly handsome. She couldn't take it when you left." You suggested dryly, carefully tipping half of the vial's neon purple contents onto the open wound.

The Mandalorian hissed out a pained laugh, his whole body tensing briefly before relaxing again. "Shit, that mus' be it." He slurred. "Crazy Twi' was always stabbin' me. Wanted t' get m...me outta' th' beskar." He brushed his knuckles against your cheek. "Not like you. Y' always tellin' me t...to...to stay safe. Like you'd be sad 'f I got hurt."

You longed for a beskar steel helmet at that moment, mentally cursing your cheeks for flushing as hot as they did. This wasn't the time! He was still soaked with sweat, his shoulder jumping erratically under your touch. It was difficult not to notice the way his chest was heaving, the rise and fall of battered olive skin almost hypnotic. This was only the second time you had seen him in such a state of undress and, despite how terrible the current situation was, you still treasured this display of the trust that he placed in you. Just to ask for your help in general-! "Of course I'd be sad." You said quietly, trying to focus on smoothing the patch over the edges of the wound.

His thumb traced your jawline. "Really?" He asked, sounding somewhere between incredulous and seconds from passing out. "S'nice. You're nice. Nice t' look at, too. Mesh'la. Xi'an was jealous." He mumbled. You could hear his smile; he was gloating, the smug bastard. Leave it to a man who had been poisoned to gloat about an old flame being petty! "Jeal-o-us…" He tapped your nose, and then his hand flopped to the floor.

You had to sit back on your haunches, exhaling hard once you heard his breathing even out. This day was just getting stranger and stranger! Nice to look at, he had said. Xi'an was jealous. Maker, were you still blushing?!

You shook your head, for once not bothering to fight back your fond smile. "She sure was, wasn't she." You whispered sadly, daring to caress the side of his helmet.

You didn't want to leave him alone while he 'sweat out' the poison in case something went wrong, so you chose to curl up in the secondary co-pilot chair and keep him under observation. After several minutes, a hand fumbled up to grab your own. "H-ey." He breathed. "St…Stay here. Don' leave, okay?"

"I'm right here with you. I'm not going anywhere." You assured him, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles.

"Can you...sing me th...that song. The one--the one...th' one the kid likes?" He turned his head slowly to look up at you, the side of his helm hitting the floor with a solid thud. "Keeps the dark...keeps th' dark outta' my helmet."

"Yeah, absolutely. Whatever you need." He squeezed your hand, which you assumed was his way of saying thank you. You then slid off of the seat and back onto the floor, carefully lifting his head so you could lay it in your lap.

He groaned at the motion and you apologized softly, stroking your fingers down the front of his helm like you did for the kid. You got a quiet sigh out of that. His hand shifted over to pet your thigh, and you felt his shoulders relax ever so slightly.

"Sweet dreams 'til sunbeams find you, sweet dreams that leave all worries behind you…" you sang, deliberately keeping your volume as low as you could manage.

The Mandalorian hummed along with the tune off-key and the sound made your fond smile return, despite your best efforts.

"But in your dreams, whatever they be, dream a little dream of me…"

…

You were uncertain of when you had fallen asleep, only knowing that your own dreams were far from restful. Fraught with images of dark pits and frenzied clawing through the void, the muted horror of an undefinable stench clinging to your body as you searched for him...

"My f-f-friend, if you are receiving this..."

The staticky voice startled you from your nightmares and you gazed blearily up at the Mandalorian's back. Somehow you had ended up back in the co-pilot chair. When…?

He appeared to be listening to a message, his form hunched over slightly so you couldn't see the individual's holo on the control panel. "...means you are alive. You may be surprised to hear this, but I am alive too. I guess we can call it even."

Your brow furrowed as the Mandalorian scoffed, shaking his head.

"...lot has happened since we last saw each other. The man who hired you is still here, and his ranks of ex-Imperial guards have grown."

Ex-Imperial? You were wide awake now. You tucked your legs beneath the blanket covering you, huddling yourself up tight before you realized that it was actually his cape. He must have draped it over you after he woke up from his post-poison fainting spell.

The message rattled on, "They have imposed despotic rule over my city, which has impeded the livelihood of the Guild. We consider him an enemy but we cannot get close enough to take him out."

"Osi'kyr." The Mandalorian hissed through his teeth, scooping his gription harness up off the floor and settling it back on his shoulders. "Of course not, of course." The grit in his words was unfamiliar, violent. You remembered what he had said about not touching certain jobs anymore; frantic, guilty rambling about Alzoc Three, dark pits. What else had he done before bounty hunting?

"If you would consider one last commission, I would very much make it worth your while. You have been successful so far in staving off their hunters, but they will not stop until they have their prize." His shoulders snapped tight. "So here is my proposition: return to Nevarro. Bring the child as bait. I will arrange an exchange and provide loyal Guild members for protection. Once we get near the client, you kill him, and we both get what we want."

The Mandalorian was shaking his head again, knuckles rhythmically striking the edge of the control panel. He was angry. His presence seemed to fill the cockpit, robbing the space of everything except the silent fury he radiated. Like when he had been staring down Calican, the mudhorn about to charge.

"If you succeed, you keep the child and I will have your name cleared with the Guild. For a man of honor should not be forced to live in exile." Weirdly, the Mandalorian went dead still at that. The wording obviously had some kind of heavy impact on him. "I await your arrival with optimism."

"I'll bet you fucking do, you-" The Mandalorian seethed, reaching for his breastplate and then pausing when he saw you were awake. He continued the motion after a moment, clearing his throat. "We're headed back to Sorgan." He enunciated calmly, affixing the plate to his harness.

"Why?" You inquired, a little wary. Gone was the slur in his voice, the clumsy movements he had displayed only a few hours back. Also gone was his rage. He was somehow even more closed off than before, his body language bordering on unreadable.

"I'm going to need backup."

Part Six

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #eventual romance #slow burn #God I'm bad at this #i apologize #with that said #please enjoy!

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baroquebucky · 4 years

Note

jealous!bucky one shot where the reader is an actress/model who has to work with one of her celeb crush

a/n: i can never turn down jealous bucky >:) let me know what you guys think !!

Your alarm rang and you rolled over to turn it off, only to miss it by an inch because of the iron grip you were in. “Buck” you whispered, turning over to face him, having to wiggle to be able to look at him. He grumbled a little, losening his grip slightly. You gave him a soft kiss on his jawline and moved to turn on your alarm once more, as soon as he let go of you.

“Do you even have to go? Can’t you just say I saved the world and they give you a free pass” bucky grumbled, opening his eyes slightly. You smiled at his comment and sat up on the bed, looking down at him. “no I can’t, and as much as I’d love to stay I’m actually really excited for this photoshoot” you smiled, getting off the bed and stretching until a little Yelp left your mouth. You sighed in relief and headed to the restroom, by the time you were out you saw bucky sitting up on the bed, resting against the headboard.

“Is this for the movie with that one guy?” He asked, confused and slightly squirming as you looked at him. “I have many movies with guys buck you have to be more specific” you smiled, planting a kiss on his lips before moving to your closet to change.

“you know the one you really like, Adam Driver” he mumbled, looking down at his hands. You couldn’t help but smile at the fact that he was jealous of your celebrity crush. You nodded and finished slipping on your shirt, slipping out of your shorts and looking for a nice pair of pants for your shirt. “He’s so sweet buck, I really think you should meet him!” You replied, shimmying into your pants and he rolled his eyes.

“what so I can see you drool over him in person? No thanks” he rolled his eyes, scrolling through his phone as an attempt to ignore you. You pouted and walked over to his side of the bed, leaning down and planting a kiss on his cheek. Bucky quickly grabbed you and put you on top of him, holding you in his arms tightly, his metal arm whirring slightly as his heart rate sped up at the thought of another guy flirting with you. Without thinking twice he turned to you, locking your lips together. You were shocked but quickly reciprocated the energy, letting out a small sigh as his hands wandered down your thighs. You pulled away, not wanting to be late.

“You know I love you honey, I’ll be back in a couple hours” smiling at him you gave him one last kiss before you grabbed your keys and hopped in your car, going to your photo shoot. Bucky furrowed his brows as he heard the door close, letting out a sigh.

As you arrived to the building for the photo shoot you smiled at the crew, saying good morning to everyone as you walked to where your makeup would be done. Adam has yet to arrive and you shit a quick message to bucky telling him you had arrived safely. He replied rather quickly, telling you how much he loved you and that he missed you already.

Adam arrived not long after your makeup finished and you smiled at him, making some small talk while everyone got in positions. “How’s the family?” You asked, he smiled at you and pushed his hair back, “they’re good yeah, how uh bucky?” He replied and you replied with a quick good, asking him where he had gotten moose since you had been wanting to surprise him with a dog.

“You know I could actually take you to the shelter, if you want obviously, it’s really nice” he offered as the photographers began to place you guys in your respective spots. “That’d be amazing actually, thanks man” you smiled, giving him a side hug before the photo shoot began.

By the time the shoot had ended the two of you were hungry and decided to go out for lunch on your way to the shelter. Of course with your luck, the two of you got caught trying to not get recognized and soon there were cameras everywhere and fans trying to get both of your attention. The two of you waved through the crowd and into Adams car, driving off in the direction of the shelter.

“Oh my god that was horrible, we just wanted a fucking sandwich” you groaned causing Adam to laugh. “Yeah that’s the worst part of it but it’s a package deal” he replied smiling softly. The two of you were nothing more than best friends, of course he knew he was your celebrity crush but after you met bucky no one else really mattered to you.

Once the two of you arrived at the shelter you thanked Adam for driving you, he offered to stay but you rejected it. “Go ahead and enjoy your family, we don’t always get short days like these” you smiled at him, he gave you a small hug before saying goodbye and driving off.

While you met numerous dogs and wanted to take them all, you wondered if bucky would like any of them. You knew he could get drained easily but he loved animals, he would always smile and ask to pet other peoples dogs. Was surprising him with one even a good idea?

Your train of thought was interrupted when you felt your phone vibrating in your pocket. You saw it was bucky and quickly excused yourself so that he wouldn’t hear the barking dogs.

“hey baby what’s up?” You asked, a smile on your face. “Don’t ‘what’s up’ me, where are you?” He spoke, his tone was cold and you felt a shiver go down your spine. “I can’t tell you” you replied, your palms sweating, what the hell were you gonna say? “Are you with him?” His voice was deeper now. “Y/N i sweat to god im gonna fucking beat the shit out of him if he even lays a finger on you” you heard rustling in the background and the sound of keys jingling. “Buck what? No why are you so mad?” You questioned, confused as to why he was suddenly about to strangle your favorite actor.

“Have you not seen any social media? The two of you were on a fucking date were you not” Bucky stopped in his tracks when you started laughing on the other line. “oh baby, i would do anything to see you right now” you sighed, a small smile on your face. “No angel, he was helping me out with something for you and we got hungry so we tried to get some lunch but before we could get anything there was paparazzi everywhere.”

Bucky stayed quiet, cursing himself for getting so worked up over nothing. He felt guilty for not trusting you, of course you wouldn’t do that to him. “Buck?” You spoke, bringing him out of his own thoughts. “I’m sorry doll face, i guess i just started over thinking because he’s always been your celebrity crush and I thought what if he asked you out and you left me because-” you cut him off before he could finish.

“James! I’m going home right now you better believe I’m going to smuther you with love, see you in like 20 minutes” you spoke, a smile on your face. “I can go pick you up if you wan-”

“NO! I mean, no I’m okay, i love you” you rushed out, ordering a ride from your phone, deciding to hold off on putting any four legged pals on hold for the two of you. When you arrived to your shared apartment you didn’t even think of trying to dust off the copious amount of dog hair on your pants, you rushed in, ready to question your favorite super soldier.

“Buck? Where’d you go?” You asked, slipping your shoes off and setting your keys in the small bowl the two of you had made together. As you lifted your eyes from the little bowl you saw bucky emerging from the living room. You smiled at him and threw yourself into his arms. He held you tightly and let out a shaky breath into your neck.

“‘M sorry doll” he whispered, you pulled away from the hug, looking at the tall man softly. “Don’t apologize, it’s okay baby” you whispered, taking his hand and leading him to the couch where the two of you sat down, he put his head on your chest and you played with some of his now short hair.

The two of you stayed like that, he just needed you to be there for him. You didn’t mind though, sitting with your favorite boy in the world on top of you was the only thing you wanted. Then he asked you the one question you dreaded.

“is this- are you covered in dog hair?” Bucky quickly got up from his position and plucked a hair from your pants. You looked at him, your mouth opening but nothing coming out, oh god. “I- see there was a dog! By the street?” You but your lip and groaning loudly.

“Doll?” Bucky asked you, a smile playing upon his lips as you looked at him, a smile breaking onto your face. “I went to the shelter, i was gonna surprise you with a dog but then I didn’t know what kind dog you’d want, or if you’d even want a dog and then you called all upset and so i just left and-” you cut yourself off, looking at your boyfriend.

He was looking at you with a small smile, adoration and love filling his eyes, the sight made you blush as you looked at him. “What?” You asked him, he only leaned over and gave you a gentle kiss on your lips. You pulled a way, pink dusting your cheeks.

“Let’s go find a new member for this family yeah?” He smiled, leaning in to kiss you once again. You smiled into the kiss, when you pulled away you grabbed him by the hand, slipped your shoes on and practically ran out the door, barely realizing halfway to the car that you didn’t get the keys. Bucky quickly tossed them your way, he shook his head at you teasingly and you quickly rolled your eyes, unlocking the car and the two of you slipped in.

“I think you’re gonna love this one boy named Ace, he’s a sweetheart and loves giving kisses, god knows i can’t give you as many kisses as you’d want” you laughed, giddy as the two of you drive towards the shelter. Bucky was nervous, a good nervous.

This was a new chapter for the two of you, a step in the right direction for the soon to be Barnes family. His mind quickly flashed to the velvet box he had hidden at the back of his closet.

“Honey? Are you even listening?” You laughed at the now dazed man next to you. He turned to you and smiled, “of course i am, so Ace huh?” He smiled, taking in every one of your features, his heart swelling with love. He had so much love to give you, he couldn’t wait to be able to share that love with a furry friend.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes drabble #bucky imagine #jealous!bucky

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ronninoir · 3 years

Text

Can I Steal You For A Second? Chapter 30

Summary: Adrien is forced to participate in a new dating show, but becomes more excited when Ladybug says she’ll participate as her civilian self.

AKA: AU where Adrien doesn’t know Marinette, the superheroes are 22 and Gabriel is mean and ruthless but not Hawkmoth.

Read on AO3

Start from the beginning Chp 1 on AO3

Marinette was excited when she was finally allowed to get ready for the rose ceremony. She had spent the last four days doing absolutely nothing in the mansion all by herself and she was losing her mind. Even if this rose ceremony meant Juliette going home, since Lucie and Lila had to stay, thanks to Gabriel Agreste. Saying goodbye to Juliette would be horrible, but at least the other girls would come back to the mansion and she wouldn’t be alone anymore after tonight.

They were doing this rose ceremony differently and it was actually happening outside of the mansion. That excited Marinette even more since she was actually getting to leave the mansion. She put on a dark blue dress with a low sweetheart neckline with skinny straps and a high slit on her right leg. This dress gave her the illusion of curves which her Ladybug physique didn’t allow for and Marinette was grateful for the thicker material that could hide her shaking hands as she watched Adrien send home another one of her best friends.

The SUV deposited her outside of an airplane terminal and Marinette instantly became nervous. Tikki was hidden in the folds of her dress, but she wasn’t prepared to travel anywhere, especially since Adrien would probably be going with her. Which would then leave Paris unprotected. Marinette was on the verge of a freak out when she noticed Chris Harrison standing next to the terminal, smiling at Marinette.

She walked up to him and gave him a warm smile. “Marinette,” he said, gently pulling her into a hug.

“Hi, Chris.” Marinette responded before pulling away. She was very grateful that Chris had decided to travel over to Paris for their season, as he had been a steady force and a constant reminder that these things do work and that everything can end up okay in the end.

“How are you?”

“Good, I’m good.”

“How are you feeling?”

Marinette paused, not wanting to sound too confident, “I’m okay. Nervous but excited to see Adrien again tonight.”

“You don’t seem nervous,” Chris pointed out with a smile.

Marinette laughed, “That’s because I’m very good at hiding it.”

“Do you think you had a good week?”

Marinette thought back to everything that had happened that week and couldn’t help the smile that crossed her face. “I didn’t get to travel as much as I’d like,” she said with a wink, to which Chris chuckled, “But I think my Hometown turned out really well.”

“I like the confidence, Marinette.” Chris said with a gentle smile, “Go ahead and follow the red carpet and find your spot.”

“Thank you,” Marinette replied as she did as she was instructed. She followed the red carpet into the terminal and she felt herself take in a breath as she laid eyes on what was inside.

It was covered in lights and lanterns and candles. The lights were soft enough to set the mood and also give the room a warm color. As she continued on the red carpet to her name spot, she noticed the three roses sitting on a podium made of a handsome dark wood, as well as Lucie patiently waiting for the other girls to arrive and elegant in a light pink.

After Marinette stopped on her marked spot, she waited less than a minute for Juliette to arrive. Juliette had the same look of awe as she walked towards their spots that Marinette had, and when she stopped she gave Marinette a smile and a small wave. Marinette waited for Lila to appear soon after Juliette, but she didn’t come. After a couple of minutes, Marinette leaned over to Juliette and whispered, “Do you think something happened to her?”

Juliette shrugged and whispered back, “Maybe she just wanted to make an entrance.”

Just then, they heard a car door shut from outside and both Marinette and Juliette rolled their eyes. So very typical of Lila to be late.

Instead of Lila, however, they were treated with the beautiful sight that was Adrien. He was dressed in a crisp suit with a dark grey button down and a black tie. He didn’t look confused to see only three girls gathered and Marinette knew that something must have happened.

“Good evening ladies,” Adrien said as he hit his spot right next to the roses. “This week definitely gave me a lot more than I thought was possible going into it. To be able to go meet your families, and just have such amazing conversations with all of them is more than I could have hoped for.” Adrien took a deep breath, and there was something off about his expression, but Marinette couldn’t pinpoint what it was. “As you may have noticed, Lila is not currently with us tonight.” Marinette’s gaze snapped back to the spot that should have been Lila’s. She had almost forgotten that it was empty because of Adrien’s entrance.

“It was discovered at my meeting with her parents that Lila had been intimately involved with one of our crew members for almost the entire duration of the show’s filming.” Marinette felt her jaw drop, and noticed that Lucie and Juliette looked the same. “She was promptly removed from the competition and sent home with her parents.” A small smirk creeped its way across Adrien’s face and Marinette realized what was off with his expression. He was trying very hard to keep a smile off of his face.

It all made sense. Lila’s constant sneaking around and being up at crazy hours at night. How she noticed Marinette sneaking off with Plagg the night of the Task, she was up and actively participating in something that, if caught, would have gotten them in serious trouble. Any slight noise or movement would have put them on high alert and that was when Lila discovered Marinette sneaking out. This also must have been the dirt that Sasha had on Lila, which makes sense because Sasha’s room had been right next door to Lila’s this whole time. She would have heard the noises and eventually put two and two together.

Adrien must have been ecstatic to get rid of Lila, the biggest problem child on this show. His Father’s second favorite being eliminated for a reason even he couldn’t argue with.

“With that being said,” Adrien started, jerking Marinette from her trance. She glanced at the two girls on either side of her. Lucie was fully in shock and looked uncomfortable by the idea of what Lila had done. Juliette, on the other hand, looked so excited she was like a kid in a candy store. “Juliette,” Juliette walked slowly up to Adrien, clearly trying to appear calmer than she actually was. “Juliette, will you accept this rose?” Juliette nodded and gave Adrien a hug before walking back to her spot next to Marinette, rose in hand.

“Marinette,” Adrien called and she walked up to him, giving him an encouraging smile. “Marinette, will you accept this rose?” Marinette whispered an, “Always,” before giving Adrien a hug. As his face was buried in her hair, he whispered, “I’ll tell you everything on Sunday, I promise.” Marinette just smiled at him as they broke apart and returned to her spot. Once Lucie’s rose was given out, the girls watched Adrien walk out and get into a car before they were ushered into theirs.

Juliette broke the minute the car door shut. “Oh my God I cannot believe that is what that girl was up to!” She shrieked and giggled.

“It makes total sense, though,” Marinette added. “Between the lying and the bullying and how desperate she was to stay on the show.”

“All of her actions have never made sense, but it does knowing that Adrien wasn’t the guy she was really here for.” Juliette finished with a devious smile.

“I just can’t believe she would do that to Adrien,” Lucie said, still in shock about the whole thing. Marinette and Juliette nodded, letting the silence sit for a moment as they realized how much Adrien had been played.

“On the bright side,” Juliette said, finally breaking the growing silence, “that snake is gone and we won’t be stuck in a hotel room by ourselves anymore!”

Marinette and Lucie laughed. “The mansion is a lot creepier when there aren’t any other living beings inside of it with you,” Marinette admitted, causing another laugh to escape from Juliette.

Once they made it to the mansion, the other two girls’ suitcase delivered while they were out, Juliette poured the three of them each a glass of champagne. “To the death of the Snake!”

Lucie and Marinette repeated the toast and drank to the end of Lila’s reign on their lives.

----------------------------------------------------

Sunday’s patrol was wonderful. Chat gave Ladybug all of the wonderful details about Lila’s hometown and how it feels to finally be rid of her.

“I feel as though a major weight has been lifted off of my shoulders and I can finally act as though I’ve seen how messed up she was and how glad I am to have her out of my life.” Adrien was saying and Marinette completely agreed.

“Last night the three of us toasted to Lila’s disappearance and I can honestly say that finding that out about Lila was one of the happiest moments I’ve ever had on this show.”

Chat looked offended at that statement and the look caused Ladybug to laugh. She reached over and scratched behind his ear, which she knew was a weak spot for him, “Don’t worry Chaton, all the other top five moments involve you.”

He leaned into her touch for a little bit before sitting up and becoming suddenly very serious, “I know this isn’t what you were expecting to hear tonight, but I just wanted to apologize for ever trusting Lila and doubting you.” Chat said, sheepishly looking at the ground and refusing to meet Ladybug’s eyes.

“Oh, Kitty, don’t apologize for seeing the good in everyone. You have a wonderful heart and one of the many things I love about you is how you can see a bright side to everything and everyone.” Chat looked at her then and she grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Don’t ever change, Kitty. We may adapt as we grow older and have lived with each other for a while, but don’t ever think to change something so vital to your personality because you want to impress me. I love you just the way you are.”

They shared a moment, where the rest of Paris faded away and it was only those two on the rooftop drinking in the other’s presence. “Thanks Bugaboo for being there for me.”

“Always,” Ladybug promised with a smile. “Can you just promise me one thing?” Ladybug asked, trying very hard to not let her voice shake.

“Of course,” Chat responded, not even doubting her tone.

“Please, please, don’t give me any details about what happens in the other fantasy suites.”

Chat blushed a deep red and looked very uncomfortable suddenly. “Don’t remind me.” He murmured.

“Are they going to make you sleep with anyone?” Ladybug asked, trying very hard to not sound too interested in his response.

“No, thankfully that’s totally up to me.”

“Think you’re going to get lucky?” Ladybug’s tone was joking, but they were slowly working towards a topic they hadn’t discussed just yet.

Chat’s eyes suddenly locked on hers and the intensity in them was blinding, “That all depends on what one particular girl decides.”

Now it was Ladybug’s turn to blush. “We’ve never discussed how we feel on that particular subject.”

“No, we haven’t.”

“So, do you want to talk about it now, or wait until the televised date?” Ladybug asked, secretly hoping he’d say the latter. Anything to get away from this awkwardness that had settled over them at the current moment.

“Marinette,” Chat said plainly, shocking Ladybug enough with the use of her real name to his full attention. “I want to marry you, tomorrow if this stupid show would let me. I want to have a life with you, where we run Gabriel together or even start up our own company to get out from my Father’s gaze. But, I also want to start a family with you.” He grabbed her hands and scooted closer to her to where their knees were touching. “And I may not be an expert of any sorts, but I’m pretty sure babies don’t come from the sky with the help of storks, do they?”

Ladybug let out a small laugh and leaned forward to rest her head on Adrien’s. “I want all of that with you too Adrien, I just don’t know if the time is right.”

“I don’t know if the time will ever be right, and this isn’t something we have to decide tonight. Whenever our date comes, if it feels like something we want to pursue we can.” Adrien took a deep breath and Marinette felt her hair stir from it. “I can promise you this, though, I will not come close to doing any of that with either of the other girls. We may talk or laugh or even kiss a little, but I swear on my life I won’t let that happen with anyone except you.”

Ladybug let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. She trusted Adrien, a lot, but it was still really nice to hear the words come from his mouth, a promise she knew he would keep. They shared a brief kiss before Ladybug broke it apart with an interesting thought that had suddenly surfaced in her mind.

“You know, there won’t be protection in that room.”

Chat pulled away sharply and raised an eyebrow in a look of question that was insanely hot. “How do you know that?”

She had opened her mouth to respond right as Chat had come to the same conclusion, “Alya,” they said together.

Ladybug shrugged, “Her research is solid; she hasn’t led me wrong yet. Just something to keep in mind.”

Chat looked uncomfortable at that information, and stood up quickly before offering a hand for her to do the same, “And on that happy note, let’s actually begin patrolling this city.”

~~~

A short one for you all today, but I promise the best is yet to come

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btsslowburnfic · 4 years

Text

BTBY Chapter 3

Series Summary: For Namjoon, the moment he set his sights on being the #1 rapper, he pushed the symbol to the side and hated it. Love should be chosen, not forced on you. He didn’t believe in fate and this mark on his wrist was a big “fuck you” to all that.

Chapter Summary: Practice, Day one

Previous chapter found here

Robert’s studio had been fully cleared out for you guys. The three of you walked in and were greeted by the owner, Robert Mayes. “[Y/N] good to see you again, Xavier, always a pleasure, and you must be with the band,”

“Yes, it’s nice to meet you sir. I’m RM. Thank you so much for letting us use your space,”

“Ah it’s my pleasure. Really. You should thank [Y/N]. She coordinated all of our classes to be at their studio and my daughter is a huge fan.” he hands [Y/N] a set of keys. “I'll leave you to it. When is a good time for me to bring Ella by?”

You do some mental math. “Around 5 will be good. We’ll probably break for dinner at 6. Thanks again Robert,” you wave as he leaves the studio. Ok, time to do your job even with the grumpy jerk soulmate in tow.

“Alright guys, this way please. Restrooms are in this hallway along with showers if anyone needs one after practice. This room right here is where the back up dancers can get ready. They won’t be here again until tomorrow. The kitchen is also on this floor. Catering is arriving with snacks and drinks in half an hour, dinner arrives at 5:30 with a 6 pm dinner time. The main rehearsal area and your guys green room is upstairs,” you review the location with them as you arrive at the stairs.

“Xavier would you mind waiting at the reception desk until Melinda gets here? She should be here in about ten minutes. I don’t want any studio clients accidentally showing up and not having anyone to talk to.” you rummage through your workbag as best you can with your bandaged hand, “here are some flyers with the alternate classes in case they are old school and don’t use the app.”

“Yep, you got it.” Xavier takes the flyers and heads back to the front door area.

You start walking up the stairs, “Come on, I have the main space blocked out already let’s go check it out.” you yell behind you. You reach the top of the stairs and continue the brief tour. “There are more bathrooms over there. The room over there is where you guys and your staff can get ready. And this space,” you walk ahead to the large studio, “is the main dance room. I know it’s not even close to being the same as the venue, which I’m honestly still really pissed off about, but we are going to make it work.” you turn back and look at Namjoon taking the space in.

“Sorry about your arm,” he says, avoiding looking at you. “Do you actually want me to pay for it?”

For a moment you forget how to speak because you are so surprised he is being normal to you. “No thanks, I was joking. I mean it is $900 but it’s fine. I’ll just steal food from the catering service later,” you smirk at him. “I can teach some standing classes for a while or fill in at the front desk. It will be fine. Ok, check the tape marks against where you guys normally are and see what you think. I can do minimal light and sound but that’s definitely Rafael’s strong suit. I’m going to get the mic pacs set up.” You walk over to the boxes you had set out earlier in the day and sit down next to them.

Namjoon works through the choreography lightly of the two songs they will be performing. You try not to look but you can’t help it. You really like watching people dance. And he’s a really good dancer even though he’s just lightly moving through the steps. You fight with the mic packs. They are very difficult to get tuned with one hand. Ugh. This is so frustrating.

To your pleasant surprise, Xavier, Rafael, and the rest of the group enter the silent room. Rafael heads straight for the console and starts setting things up. Xavier was trying to communicate with the guy you had learned was JHope. The bits of broken English are adorable. RM walks over and catches the band up on where they could take their things and get set up. Xavier comes over and starts helping you get the lav mics set up. “Thanks dude, this is really hard one handed.”

“It’s no problem. Oh my goodness, these guys are hilarious. I don’t speak Korean, clearly, but their energy is amazing.”

You smile as you are not having the same experience at all but you don’t want to be rude.

Once the lav mics are set up you grab your label maker. “Ok, go see if Rafael is ready and we’ll do just the choreography a few times through. I’ll go see if the guys are set up.” You get up and go downstairs to check in with Melinda about who to let in and when they should arrive and then head on up to the makeshift green room. You knock on the door and don’t hear any objections so you go in and see the guys finishing up a makeshift team meeting. “Alright? Ready?” you say, trying to keep the wording minimal.

“Let’s go!” JHope yells excitedly. You can see why Xavier was having fun talking to him, his smile is infectious.

“Yeah ok, you know. Let’s go dancing,” the tall one who your research has told you is “Jin” joins in. You laugh and turn to lead the way over to the practice area.

Xavier and Rafael get the lighting and sound set up once the guys are on their marks. They look so fucking cool. Having them in the studio makes it almost look like a stage. The music starts and they start the choreography. The first round is just to test the set marks, so it’s not the full moves. It looks like they are using it as a warm up but honestly it still looks amazing! Once the marks are all confirmed they run the full version. You sit there trying not to stare at RM but you can’t help it. He looks so good. They all do, but you can’t take your eyes off of him. Damnit. Stupid rude soulmate. You sigh. Today was shit. Your wrist was throbbing, you had zero sleep, and your soulmate hated you.

“Alright that’s a wrap on that part guys. It looks amazing!” you give them a big thumbs up. “Let’s get the lav mics on you guys and we’ll run with audio.”

You hand the labeled mics to each band member and help them get it adjusted as best you can. When you get to RM he takes the lav mic and becomes determined to place it himself. “Oh my goodness. You are ridiculous.” you say under your breath to him. “You better make sure that thing stays on,” you chide him.

“It’s not my first performance sweetheart, I think I can manage.” he responds arrogantly.

You roll your eyes and head on over to JHope who is much friendlier. “Thanks so much,” he says.

“You’re welcome,” you say smiling. Why are literally all of them nicer than your soulmate? You look over at him to see him giving JHope a death stare, which JHope returns by shrugging his shoulders confused. You move on to Yoongi who politely lets you place the mic.

“Alright, we are all set. Mic check please,”

“Ok let’s go,” you hear RM through the speakers. The other guys take turns speaking into the mics.

“Check check, Rafael?” he gives you a thumbs ok, “Ok. Let’s run it.” The music starts and this time it’s full choreography and singing. The sound is really stable and they look great. About halfway through the second song, RM accidentally rips off his lav mic and yeets it to the floor.

“Stop.” you shout.

“Sorry guys. I’m sorry.” He immediately stops and picks up the broken mic.

The guys are all breathing heavily and don’t seem too shocked by this turn of events, half of them wander off to grab some water.

You walk over and take the mic from RM’s hands. “I'm sorry.” he says to you and for a second you forget what a dick he’s been to you. You sigh examining the pac. “It’s fine. I have an extra one. This one is beyond my repair skills.” you walk over to the side of the studio and grab another one. You walk back over and look up at RM, “I’ll give you another. The deal is you have to let me put this one on, ok?”

For a few seconds he drops his “too cool” act “Yeah ok.” You reach around his back to reposition the lav mic and hand him the earpiece.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bite you.” you say as you readjust it along his back. You feel him relax a bit. “Unless you ask me to.” you wink awkwardly at him. He rolls his eyes at you.

“Thanks again for getting us this practice space. ” he says, surprising you,

You finish the adjustment. “Just doing my job. Of course, the rest of my job is really hard with a splint on my wrist,” you give him a dirty look.

“I am sorry about that,” he says quietly.

You look around make sure no one else can hear you, “Look, it’s been a fucked up day for me too.” you look into his eyes, “ And I don’t want this either. I have a boyfriend actually and I like my job here a lot. You don’t have to worry about me chasing you down or anything.”

“Oh,” Namjoon is taken aback by this. He had always assumed if he ever met his soulmate and delivered the news he wasn’t interested, they would be heartbroken. Apparently not.

“Oh. Ok. Good.” is all he was able to get out.

You sigh as you walk back a few feet to make sure it looks ok with the lighting and everything. “You should be all set now.” you turn to the sound crew, “Mic check! Take 3.” Namjoon does his mic check and it sounds great. “Ok everyone let’s run it from the top.”

You walk over to the front of the room to watch and listen to the full production. This day has been exhausting.

Xavier sits down next to you and hands you a water. “Thanks dude,”

“These guys are fucking sick. They are favored to win their categories.”

“Really? That’s awesome. Do you have your outfit picked out?” You ask, embracing a moment of normalcy in your life.

“No, Joe and I are going tonight to look at rentals. Do you want to come?”

“No thanks, I haven’t seen Ben all week and I’m just going to wear something from my closet. I’m thinking my New Year’s Eve dress from last year.”

“Ooo that’s a good One. I’ll get a coordinating tie.” Xavier smiles at you. “Do you have a bias?”

“Uh what?”

“Haven’t you read upon this group? You pick a favorite and that’s your bias.” Xavier sips his iced coffee.

“That is ridiculous. They’re just people. Like every other group we’ve worked with,” you roll your eyes.

“I don’t make the fandom rules honey. My bias is Jimin. Look at that dancing.” Xavier proceeds to stare at Jimin for the remainder of the first song. “Ooooo but if there’s another one they’re your bias wrecker.”

“Please start speaking English again.” you playfully shove him.

“What were you and RM chatting about?” He arches his eyebrows up and down.

“Lav mics. And more specifically why I am the one who is supposed to place them and not overconfident performers,” you huff.

“I’m gonna put down Jhope as your bias and RM as your wrecker.”

You roll your eyes and stand up for the second song. Xavier continues to eyefuck Jimin.

You once again find your eyes drawn to RM. He’s not the best dancer but he’s taller than the rest of the guys and has a certain swagger when he raps that commands the room. It’s sexy as fuck and you get annoyed at yourself for thinking that. The second song ends. You, Xavier, and Rafael burst into applause.

“Great job guys! That looked and sounded Amazing. How did you feel about it?” you direct your question to RM so he can translate. He and JHope discuss a few things. You walk over to them to gather any feedback. Suga has wandered over to Rafael and is looking at the console with him. You giggle as you watch Xavier try and think of something to say to Jimin and you almost get secondhand embarrassed for him.

“Ok guys, any changes or anything?” you ask as RM and JHope grow quiet.

“No. We just need to run it again a few times. When our filming crew arrives they will record it for us to share online with ARMY so we want to make sure it’s good before then.”

“Ok. sounds good.” you take out your phone and rescan the schedule. “You have an hour and a half before they arrive so you just let Rafael know when you’re ready to go again for practice” your phone chimes, “I have to go meet with catering and I will be right back.”

The rest of the practice session runs smoothly. Their BTS production team arrives to film content for their fans and you and Xavier feel like a bunch of perverts watching them stretch but it doesn’t stop either of you from doing it.

“Oh my god you guys,” Rafael laughs at you two. “Stop.”

“Stop what?” you ask, trying to sound innocent.

Rafael rolls his eyes. “Y’all thirsty. Don’t you guys have boyfriends?”

“Our boyfriends do not look like that,” Xavier gestures to the group. You just grow red and try not to laugh and distract them.

“Stop it you guys. You’re being really unprofessional.” you say through suppressed laughter

“Yeah, stop it guys,” Rafael mocks you and the three of you laugh as their song wraps up.

“Great job!” you yell. “We have time for one more run through. Grab some water and we’ll do one more set before dinner.” You walk over to RM. “Hey, the studio owner’s daughter is here and I told her she could watch as long as she doesn’t take pictures or anything. Is that still ok? Did you check with everyone?”

“Yeah, that shouldn’t be a problem.” he says, his voice huskier than normal from the exertion of practicing for hours.

“Here,” you hand him a bottle of water and head down to the first floor.

Robert’s daughter, Clara, is a super excited ten year old who is trying to play it cool but she keeps making adorable squeaking sounds. “Hey! Are you super excited?” you greet her and Robert. She just smiles more, unable to form coherent words “I just need you to either give me your phones or put them in a locker.”

“Sure thing,” Robert hands you their phones. “Thanks again. I’d say this would make her day but it’s probably more like her year or her life,” he smiles.

“Of course. Happy to do it.” you start walking up the stairs with them, “I know we can watch them and they might have time to chat afterwards but they have also had a really long day, so don’t be upset if they seem tired or anything, ok?” you prep Clara.

She nods enthusiastically and then starts crying when she enters the room. “Oh God,” you say and you gesture at chairs you had set out for them.

“Ah youth,” Xavier remarks as you walk over to the console. As you turn around you are surprised to see that one of the members, Taehyung has walked over to Clara and is trying to get her to stop crying and it is the sweetest thing ever.

“I don’t even have ovaries and they’re aching,” Xavier whispers in your ear. You suppress the urge to laugh and agree with him and walk over to make the introduction.

“This is Clara, and her father Robert. This,” you gesture” is Robert’s studio.

“Oh. Thank you Robert. And Thank you Clara for being ARMY,” he smiles at both of them. “We dance now, ok?”

Clara enthusiastically nods her head.

“Thank you so much,” you say to Taehyung as he turns to go back to the stage area.

“No, thank you.” he smiles an adorable smile at you and holy shit is this how they lure all these fans?! With their dancing and adorable smiles?! You make a mental note to watch some Youtube videos later tonight and walk back to your position in the front of the room. The guys are all back in their spaces.

“Mic check 1 2.” you go through the pre-check again.

The last performance of the night is perfect. Clara sings along to all the words and you even see a tear or two fall down Robert’s face as he is so happy to see his little girl’s dream come true. Wow this has been a day. You are thankful you ordered coffee to be delivered with dinner. The band members are all kind enough to walk over and say hi to Clara and thank Robert one more time.

“Thanks again [y/n] it really means a lot to us,” Robert shakes your hand.

“Of course. Thanks again for the space. I’ll see you around the studio.” you hand them their phones back as you escort them to the front door. You poke your head into the kitchen and confirm food counts with the caterer and grab yourself a coffee.

“Alright guys. Dinner is in the kitchen and ready when you are. There is also a stocked shower if anyone wants to take one here. Great work today.” Everyone on the BTS production unit makes their way to the dining area. Some of the guys stop and change clothes before dinner, some don’t. It’s been a long day. You, Rafael, and Xavier clean up the dance room so it will be ready for tomorrow.

“What are you guys doing tonight?” Rafael asks as he covers the console.

“I’m going suit shopping with Joe for the awards show. Do you want to join?” Xavier responds.

“Nah, I’m going to wear my funeral suit like usual.”

“Boooo!!!!” you and Xavier both yell at him, like usual. He loves that boring ass suit and it’s the only one he owns.

“There’s nothing wrong with it.” he laughs as he defends himself.

“It’s boooorrrrriiiinnnngggg. This is a fun awards show. Plus me and Joe and [Y/N] are going to look so pretty. Don’t you want to also?” Xavier finishes helping you gather the recycling.

“No. I’ll stay boring and scruffy to help make you three look better.” he smiles. “I’m grabbing dinner here. Anyone else?”

“Me.” you raise your working arm.

“I thought you were meeting Ben tonight?” Xavier interrupts.

“Change of plans. I spaced that I have to be the one to lock up tonight so I have to be the last one out. I don’t want to rush anybody so I’ll just stay here and work until everyone else is finished.” you sigh. “But, I am getting free dinner.”

“Always the optimist.” Rafael pats your shoulder, “that’s why we love you.”

You smile and grab the bag of recycling to carry downstairs. As you round the corner you once again slam into RM. “Jesus,” you yell, forgetting professionalism for a second.

“Sorry.” he takes the recycling bag from you, “Do you guys need help with anything else?” He asks cooly.

“No, we are all finished,” Xavier responds, turning off the lights. “Thanks dude.” he starts down the stairs oblivious to what’s going on. “See you all tomorrow!” he happily yells as he leaves.

“So in love.” Rafael comments. “Gross.” he jokes as he begins down the stairs.

“Agreed,” you follow him, “Are you coming?” you turn and ask RM.

“Yep.”

You slow down a bit so Rafael is all the way down the stairs, “Back to being an asshole?” you ask him, your voice lilting in a joking way.

“Absolutely.”

“Fantastic. Thanks for carrying the recycling, Asshole.”

“Sure thing. Is Rafael your boyfriend?”

Did he really just ask you that? Before you can form words you just start laughing. “Ahahahahahahaha. No. Hard Pass. No. We have worked together for 5 years. We are very good friends. Ahahaha. I can’t even. Wow. No. My boyfriend does not work with me. Otherwise we would probably kill each other. Why? Are you interested in Rafael? I can get you his number?” you laugh again.

“Oh my God. No.”

“Why do you care who my boyfriend is?” you ask, nearing the bottom of the stairs, “Jealous?" You tease.

If you would have been looking you would have seen the moment of hesitation on his face before he responded, “Don’t flatter yourself.” NEXT CHAPTER

#bts fanfction #bts rm fanfic #bts rm x you #bts au fanfic #rm x reader #rm x y/n #bts fics #namjoon x you

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: Rumor Has It {10}

Chris Evans x Famous Reader Uriah “Riah” Tyler-Evans

Warning: Plot, Cursing, Angst, Slight embellishment of actual real-world media

Word Count: 2.2K

Summary: You and Chris have been married for four years after a whirlwind romance. You are both happy and trying to navigate marriage in the public eye while balancing your successful careers. In the entertainment industry, not everything is as it seems, the flash of a camera lens impairs vision. As scandal and flashing lights put a strain on your once fairytale marriage is it possible your Hollywood marriage can stand the test of the rumor mill?

**Inspired by a video seen of Chris and his co-star Ana De Armas on their press tour for Knives Out at TIFF where she kept touching his chest and face standing about five inches apart.

**NOTE: A WORK OF FICTION. NOT CREATED TO GARNER HATE OF ANY SORT.

**Loosley Edited/Proofread**

**Interactive**

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊 ❤❤

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

What’s not to like about photoshoots? Nothing really. You get to wear designer clothes, get your make up done and get pretty pictures taken. Sounds great. Unless you’ve been doing it for almost ten hours. That was your predicament. You’d been shooting pictures for your album cover for the better part of a day and there was no end in sight. You’d tried to keep your energy up, tried to remain in the zone but it was harder than it looked. You were quickly descending into the land of grumpy. All you wanted was your bed a bottle of wine and one of Chris’ shirts.

“All right Uriah, that’s it. A few more shots and I think we’ll be good,” Boris shouted from behind the camera as he continued to snap away. Using that as some solace you held tightly to your resolve and pressed on.

Twenty minutes turned to forty and forty turned to two hours. After three and a half hours Boris finally called wrap. You were exhausted. You sat down with the crew and went through the three hundred plus images hoping to mark your favorites and eliminate those that just didn’t go well. The final decision was going to be left up to you and the record company, but you knew how to make your voice be the final one. You, after all, were the talent. You’d gotten far enough in your career that you held plenty of weight.

You didn’t get to crawl into bed with one of Chris’ shirts and a bottle of wine until near three in the morning. Taking comfort in his scent and the alcohol your unwind was easy. Once the bottle was finished you found yourself nodding off until Chris called. Once you saw his face, you lit up.

“You look tired.” Scoffing you nodded.

“I’m exhausted. Yet another photoshoot for the album. Hopefully, we finally have the album cover art.”

“Okay, that’s great. Are you happy with them?”

“They’re fine. I’m happier to be done with it. How are you?”

“Good, finally getting in.” You watched him set his phone down and peel his shirt off in the frame. Sighing you sunk deeper into the covers and watched the show. It was like he didn’t realize what he was doing. After he’d discarded his shirt his pants followed until he was only in his underwear. You laid there and admired your husband. You’d never get tired of this view.

“It is a shame to be so damn fine.” As if realizing what he’d done he snorted and laughed then took up his phone and carried you with him to another room.

“Me? Have you looked in the mirror lately Mrs. Evans?” You smiled then sighed.

“Is that my shirt?”

“I miss you,” you defended. His groan was long. You heard the rustling of sheets and once the motion of the camera stopped there he was laying in the bed with a sweet smirk on his face.

“I miss you too, dragonfly.” You changed your position in the bed not caring that now his shirt had risen up to your hip exposing your bare thigh to him. You watched as his eyes raked over your skin then back to your eyes.

“I’ve been thinking, after the premier and the hoopla we should take a vacation. You, me, no phones, or work, just us,” Chris proposed. It sounded blissful.

“My god that sounds so good. I think we’ve earned it.”

“I think so too, sweetheart.” The two of you laid there not saying a word just staring at each other. Your connection felt stronger than ever. Therapy had done what it was supposed to. You guys were better than ever. In fact, you were so much better you’d completed your last session with Dr. Danquah feeling incredibly optimistic and pleased with how successfully you’d been.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to fall asleep with each other still on the call with one thought to fall asleep to. Life was good.

-Two Days Later-

“Sounds like a plan,” Zora responded once you’d finished going over your plan for the next three months.

You and Chris had made such great progress in therapy that you felt more hopeful about the probability of your marriage surviving and not just surviving but thriving and becoming better than it ever had been. You’d both learned so much and every day the two of you were diligently working to put what you learned into play. He made a conscious effort to make you feel listened to and not just heard. You made an effort to give him the benefit of the doubt more times than not. Now after successful completion of near nine weeks of therapy, you both felt closer to each other. The love you felt for him had grown when you didn’t think it was possible to love him more.

The rest of your team left your office and it left you, Zora and Kizzy. Zora perched on your desk and watched you sign off on the rest of the contracts that needed to be couriered out. The next three months were setting up to be busy. You’d taken all the time you could and so had Chris. He was now in Los Angeles for meetings and interviews. It was his time to actually be present for the press centered on Knives out especially with it opening in a week.

“How’s Chris doing in LA? This is the first time in weeks you two have been apart.” You nodded at Zora’s inquiry.

She was right. You’d gotten so comfortable having him so close. You’d created a routine that you fell in love with, a routine that you now missed. It had been a week since he’d been gone, and you felt his absence to your core.

“He’s doing good. He says he’s trying to acclimate back into press touring and being away but it’s hard.”

“Uugh, you two are so stinking cute I can’t deal,” Kizzy groaned out. you couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m glad you guys are doing better and found a way back to each other,” Zora added.

You stood and handed her the folder. Once she took them and she nodded and got to work on her laptop scanning them for your records. The next step was sending a copy to your lawyers before sending them back.

Your phone rang loudly in your home office. When you looked at the screen you saw your mother’s name pop up.

“Hi, mama.”

“Uriah, who the hell is this white woman?”

“Uh—what white woman, mama?” Kizzy and Zora both looked amused, they knew your mother’s antics and the way she spoke. They often got a good laugh from it.

“This woman I’m seeing on The Wendy Williams show.”

Your confusion took over. You sighed then groaned. “Mama, I don’t have time to walk you through the who is who of the celebrity world. Try googling her.”

“Uriah Letecia Tyler-Evans. You better know who this woman is. From the things I’m hearing from Wendy, you should have her as top priority on your to-do list. By to do list I mean beat down list.”

Kizzy was the one to snort loudly. You gave her a look that had her clamping her hand over her mouth in an effort to stop any others from escaping.

“Mama, what are you talking about?”

“Turn on The Wendy Williams show now!” Zora approached with the remote and turned the tv on then proceeded to find the right channel. Once Wendy’s face filled the screen the volume increased. You were just in time to hear the audible gasp and “ooh” from the audience.

“Okay mama Wendy is on. What is so important?”

“Wait for it and listen,” your mother instructed.

“So, I don’t know what kind of marriage they have but if this were my marriage, and I know what you’re going to say my marriage fell apart from the same thing—an easy, trifling’ homewrecking whore.” Again, the audience gasped and “oohed”.

“Yeah I know, if you live in a glass house you shouldn’t throw stones but look y’all. In no world is this okay.” A video played of Ana wearing the sweater Chris wore in character in Knives Out. It was evident she had on nothing else but the sweater. She danced around while giving her best sexy eyes to the camera. You didn’t hear a thing else, not from Wendy or the audience, or even the music that was playing on the video. The video stopped and flipped to a picture of her posing in the sweater. You zeroed in on the caption.

“That was weird, anyway what I wanted to say is go see knives out. Also, thanks Chris for the sweater. I think it looks better on me this way, but you can feel free to come and take it and prove me wrong.”

As if you were a bull in the pen you saw red.

“This bitch!” Yours, Kizzy’s and Zora’s voice all merged into one as the three of you said the same thing, at the same time the same exact way. You looked at them and the looks on their faces made you wonder if you looked the same way. Pissed.

“First of all, this is all levels of inappropriate. I may be jaded and reading into things too much but ol’ girl didn’t have to put his sweater on with nothing else on. She posted this for a reason besides promo for their movie. Second, this is a thirst trap if I’ve ever seen one, now it’s not as extreme as others but a low-level thirst trap is still a thirst trap. This is a thirst trap of testing the waters. This is definitely flirtatious. Also, the caption, girl.” Wendy’s face said it all.

“Girl you know you not slick. This is disrespectful on all levels to this man’s real wife Uriah Evans. Again, I don’t know what kind of marriage they have but this isn’t the first time I’ve seen some suspect behavior from this woman toward Chris Evans. I get it he’s hot, he is a fine piece of white chocolate. The draw of a married man is appealing it’s like a competition but girl no. This man has a whole wife. Back off.”

The audience clapped and cheered.

“Do you see now Uriah. Now, who is this woman? You better tell me this isn’t the same trollop that tested your marriage a few months ago.”

“Mama I’ll call you back.” You hung up and prepared to dial Chris but before pressing the green call button you paused and thought about what you were about to do and what you were about to say. Every instinct in your body was saying blow up and rain hellfire on him, but thanks to the last months of work in therapy, part of you hesitated.

“Fuck!” You hit the desk and took several deep breaths. “This bitch really is grinding my last fucking nerve!”

“For good fucking reason. What the hell is that? Did Chris really send that to her?”

You had no idea. He very well could have. Again, you stopped and thought about things. He wouldn’t dare, not after everything you’d been through these last months, not after everything you came so close to losing. Still, there she was wearing the sweater. You looked back to the paused tv and examined the freeze frame of the picture. She looked so damn pleased with herself. Before you could fester anymore anger your phone rang again. This time it was Chris.

“Give me a minute, guys.” Kizzy and Zora walked out giving you a little privacy before you answered your phone.

“Hey, baby. I miss you,” Chris said with a smile on his face. You took another deep breath and tried to push away any ill will.

“I miss you too.”

“Are you okay?” He was walking around making you dizzy. When he finally stopped he sat down in perfect lighting.

“Yeah, I’m good. How are you? What’re you doing?”

“I just finished up wardrobe here in San Diego, getting ready to do yet another interview.” He leaned back and sighed.

“Okay, cool.” You couldn’t find anything else to say. You didn’t want to blow up at him or even ask him because you didn’t want to give him the impression you didn’t trust him. You understood now, you trusted him you just didn’t trust her.

“Are you all set to come out? I can’t wait to see you.”

“Uh, yeah, I’ll be on a flight day after tomorrow. I’m just finishing up some loose ends.” His smile was bright, and a glimmer caught your eye.

Squinting your eyes, you locked in on it then looked back to the tv at her background. Your eyes went back and forth for several moments before you felt the pit of your stomach fall. The backgrounds were one hundred percent identical. Her picture and video were taken from his room.

~~~~~~~~~

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#rumor has it fic #Chris Evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #Chris Evans X black reader #black fanfiction #chris evans x uriah

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razorblade180 · 4 years

Text

Twin Snowflakes pt17: Alone time

Eliza:I can’t believe your recklessness sometimes.

Valerie:I wasn’t going to actually fight her.

Eliza:You were seconds away from performing a suplex.

Valerie:Pfft, not like it would’ve worked.

Eliza:Not even disputing it huh? Need I remind you of your position in this school? Many students see you as a positive role model; especially the sports team. The upperclassmen included. You set an example for others so lead them well.

Valerie:I’m not as good or enjoy rubbing elbows with people as you. Semblance or not, it’s not like I’m the kind of person who starts a conversation.

Eliza:(Shooting your mouth off at someone is starting a conversation. Team speeches are-) Ugh, be that as it may, looking good by doing good is all I ask of you. It increases morale

Valerie:Oh yeah? Then why record the match yesterday?

Eliza turned her head and looked at Val. The athlete’s .eyes held a glimmer of agitation and anxiousness.

Eliza:Oh I see now, so that’s why you’re more aggressive than usual. Getting caught by Nicholas must be so irritating for the girl who’s supposed to be better than him; another check box on the list of ways he makes your life easier.

Valerie:Don’t talk like you know me.

Eliza:I know pride and jealousy when I see it. Or maybe, it’s something else entirely? If you’re letting my little comment from the other day bother you then I suggest you dismiss it. As for the video, originally I was going to use it to study the three of you for the tournament.

Valerie:WHAT!?

Eliza:It’s no different than a sports team watching the other team’s previous games. Then another thought occurred, this school would get a lot of traction if three sophomores took down such a complex piece of tech. It’s bound to spook some people who also plan on joining the tournament.

Valerie:You used us as a scare tactic? That’s...underhanded and yet, completely fair?

Eliza:Anything to ensure I remain in the top three. I will not spend time dealing with riff raff when my two biggest threats share the same bus as me. Consider that video an appreciation of all your skills, and a reminder of the eyes on you. Don’t slip up.

Valerie:I never do. It would be pretty interesting to see you beat Nick. I look forward to your challenge.

Eliza:You sound like Nick isn’t a threat.

Valerie:He isn’t. Granted his swordplay has gotten better and he has that new trick, but I haven’t been slacking off either. I’ve kicked his butt all my life and I’m sure I can do it again.

Her eyes told a different story. Eliza could tell that through all that confidence, the smallest glimmer of doubt had shown itself. She made sure to take note of it.

Eliza:Famous last words. The idea of Nick winning is a world that could exist; experience in loss is vaster than in victory.

Valerie:*grits teeth* Can we stop talking about Nick for onc-

“Val?” Called out the boy in question. The two girls turned around to see the boy walking over in their school’s simple white and gray P.E. uniform. He wasn’t sweaty like Valerie, but something seemed a little...off.

Eliza:Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Nick:Says the girl in pigtails. Might as well call them horns. Anyways hey Val, didn’t know you were at school today. Had me a little worried this morning.

Valerie:Yeah well...I slept a little late.

Nick:But...you’re in your P.E. clothes. Summer has the class as you so-

Valerie:I wasn’t terribly late. Just enough to miss homeroom.

Nick:Ah. Getting up was pretty rough for me this morning too. That Paladin took everything out of me! My body felt like lead. How are you holding up?

Valerie:I’m fine…

Nick:Really? That hit looked really-

Valerie:I said I’m fine, Nick! Stop worrying about me!

If the halls were crowded then that would’ve drawn a crowd. Instead her brash words echoed, making its own form of weird tension. Eliza took that as her queue to leave, while Nick stood there a bit spooked. Even Valerie was shocked at her tone.

Valerie:Sorry, I uh, yelling was an accident.

Nick:It’s, it’s okay. Hey you umm, are you mad at me by any chance? I only ask since Summer sorta did what you...just did; if I did something wrong-

Valerie:You didn’t. (Like usual) Can you give me a bit of space though? I’d like to have a bit more time to myself.

She hadn’t realized it, but Valerie just snitched on herself. Nick kept a neutral face, ‘overslept huh?’ The thought lingering a bit before giving a small smile. Suddenly he felt a little awkward, randomly swaying and folding his arms as if to shake off the feeling.

Nick:Alright, if that’s what you need. Still on to study tomorrow or…?

Valerie:I think I got it covered.

Nick:Cool, cool...see you around then I guess? Or not, I don’t know. I should head back now. Harriet must notice how long I’ve been taking by now, so, yeah… *stepping away*

Valerie:...Nick?

Nick:What’s up?

Valerie:Your face, it’s a bit pale. Get some rest okay? Seriously.

At least he knew she still cared. He gave her a thumbs up and started walking away again, but then whipped back around before she was out of sight.

Nick:Hey one more thing! I thought you should know Veronica is here so please, don’t beat each other up in the halls, rooms, or anywhere really. No touching at all would be nice.

Valerie:I already bumped into her.

Nick:Really? I don’t see bruises.

Valerie:Shut up, we didn’t fight. I could tell she was looking for one, or an excuse to let off steam.

Nick:What does that mean?

Valerie:She was looking much like herself. That annoyingly cocky attitude was a bit more...catty, for a lack of a better word. Atlas air must be disagreeing with her or something.

Nick:Yeah….or something…

xxxx

Veronica hadn’t moved. The young designer found herself still leaning up against the lockers, concentrating immensely. Her skull felt like it was under a jackhammer while her heartbeat sped up like a hummingbird. God she was so hungry, and the cafeteria scent…

‘In and out Veronica. Just keep your breathing in and out’ she told herself constantly. ‘You’re halfway through the day. You can do this…’

Bright side about this predicament was it seemed no one wanted to test her. She imagined that her entire attitude must seem pretty scary right about now. Good.

Her attempt to stay out of further trouble was unfortunately short lived when the scent of fresh sweat and body spray invaded her nostrils. That was a smell in any school, one that always ment the arrival of her least favorite kind of person.

Two sets of footsteps steadily got closer until they stopped right in front of her. Veronica looked up to see two boys in blue letterman jackets stand before her. One boy was tannish and had a well kept brown crew cut, his height towering over her but his build seemed similar to Nick. His eyes a shade of hazel that made the cocky grin on his face that was more punchable.

The other boy was taller, at least 6’3 and built like a wall. Veronica couldn’t fathom the amount of protein shrinks he might drink. He was pale compared to the first one and had orangey brown hair that was a crew cut that had less taken off on the sides and more grown out. His eyes were a dark green and though he didn’t look as cocky, his presence was enough for Veronica to know he thought that he was the big man on campus.

The first jacket said ‘Diabhalta’ while the second read.‘Winchester.’ That name was familiar from earlier. Nick had mentioned it when speaking to Eliza.

Whoever they were, Veronica wasn’t in the mood for this shit. It’s like she was a beacon for annoying jocks.

Veronica:May I help you, or are you just going to keep staring like a dead fish?

Diabhalta: Hey hey, take it easier there mittens. Just doing a little thinking, wondering if it would be a cat call if you gave me your number. That sort of thing.

Winchester:Laying it on a little thick there, Darren.

Darren:Oh I’m just trying to break the ice Maxie. A little humor to make that pretty face smile.

Veronica:If this is you breaking the ice then no wonder Atlas is so cold. Not interested, now scram.

Max:Sweetheart, curve the attitude. Obviously you’re new here but FYI, underclassmen show more respect.

Veronica:You’re not respecting my space.

Max:You’re not respecting our locker space.

Okay, this time she was in the jocks territory and not purposely seeked out. Maybe her luck was just bad? Veronica sidestepped out of the way and decided to leave. While Max opened his locker.

Veronica:My bad…

Max:Yeah it is.

Darren:Hey hey hey, hold on second here. “My bad” is a pretty half assed apology. Don’t you wanna try something a little more...hospitable? Maybe a cute little curtsy or something? No, well the view of you leaving is pretty nice so I shouldn’t complain.

Veronica: Fuck. Off.

Darren:Ooo kitten has claws.

He starts to follow behind her.

Max: ‘I swear he’s going to end up in prison’ Stop skirt chasing the literal puss and get your shit man.

Darren:I’m just trying to get to know the lady a little. Is that so bad?

Veronica:Darren was it? Listen to your friend and buzz off before you get actual claws, got it?

Darren:Ooo how scrappy. I don’t mind a little pain. That’s why I win medals for this place. Isn’t that right Maxie?

Max:If you need my help to get her attention then it’s probably a sign you’re trying too hard.

Veronica: ‘At least that one has a few brain cells”

Max:Besides, shouldn’t you aim for a girl that’s more… appealing?

That caught her attention. Turning around would’ve been reckless. There was no need to entertain these two, yet she couldn’t help herself.

Veronica: ‘Fuck this guy’ Was that a comment on my looks, or my features?

Max:Can’t say, all I know is what I see, and what I see is oh so not worth any time or effort. Why Darren is giving you the time of day,I’ll never understand.

Darren:Dude!

Veronica:Hmph, whatever. I should expect as much from you. At least you’re more charming than your father.

Max:Tsk, What did you-

Veronica:Goodbye. *walks away*

Darren:Hey! You can’t just disrespect him like that! Are you even listen- hey!

Veronica:Maybe if you learned to leave a girl alone then-

Her words got caught in her throat. Veronica thought they had gotten the message. That they wouldn’t bother her anymore and silently curse her names like others; the pain that ran through her tail said otherwise.

Veronica could start to feel her blood start to boil as she turned back around to see, to feel Darren gripping her tail with his disgusting hands. Max had closed his locker but didn’t look confrontational. No, he looked alarmed.

“Darren I think you overstepped.” He put his things down.

“I overstepped!? She’s the one running her mouth and mentioning your family like she knows anything.”

Veronica’s eyes matched that of a feline and her barely came out above a whisper. “You have three seconds to let go…”

Unfazed, he tightened his grip. “Or wha-”

Time was up. Darren couldn’t even finish the word before he felt the back of Veronica’s fist make a clean contact with the right side of his face, knocking spit and his body into the lockers.

“Darren!”

The boy was too dazed to respond or react to the feeling of the smaller girl tackling him to the ground as Veronica began to wail on him. Repeatedly throwing punch after punch in a fit of anger. Until Darren headbutted her off.

Now he was pissed. He got up and threw a punch that was quickly stopped by Max. “What the hell man!”

“That doesn’t end well for you!”

“It won’t for her either!”

Veronica ran back at him without thinking and was kicked right in the stomach, falling backwards for only a second before charging again.

Max tugged Darren behind him to act as a buffer and stiff armed Veronica. The guy really was a wall, but that meant nothing to Veronica. Her body slipped right through him and came out the other side to tackle the idiot who grabbed her tail.

This time they both hit the ground and started to exchange blows.

She was practically seeing red, blacking out from rage, adrenaline, pain, hunger; somewhere along the line she could taste a little iron in her mouth and pain across her face. Must’ve gotten hit, not like she cared, sound seemed distorted but she could still feel everything. Especially her knuckles that were getting tender, and the constant hands of Max trying to pull her off most likely.

She had tried to be patient. Tried to stay calm, tried to walk away, but she simply couldn’t. All she could do was keep swinging and kicking. Until….

“Get a grip Vee!”

The red stopped, her mind clearing enough to focus on control. Eventually coming to and seeing what had happened. Her arms had been secured in a tight bear hug. Darren was still in front of her with bruises that were already healing and a scowl on his that screamed “I’ll end you.”

To his right was Max who was also a bit hyped on adrenaline, his hair messed up and also thoroughly pissed. But something was off. Who was restraining-

A pit formed in Veronica's stomach as she looked to the ground to see gravity glyphs holding them all in place. She turned around to see messy familiar hair slicked back and shocked eyes. Nick had showed up, as well as a few other faculty from the sound of it.

The boy was out of breath and had a dark bruise around the bridge of his nose as he continued holding her.

“N...Nick?” Her voice trembled. “When did you-”

“We gotta move.” He said anxiously as he took her by the wrist and ran out towards the exit.

Darren wasn’t amused. “That son of-Nicholas! You think we’re done here!”

“Shut up man! We don’t need this kinda shit right now.” Max growled with an intense amount of bass. The glyphs vanished and he grabbed Darren as he ran off as well. Quickly pushing his friend out the door. “Go cool off and then come back. I’ll handle the adults”

“You can’t be seri-”

“Do you want to get beat up by three different people today!? Take a fucking walk”

Darren grit his teeth before spitting a mixture of spit and blood on the ground before listening to his friends instructions. Max let out an annoyed sigh before regaining his stoic expression and stood by the door as faculty and students started gathering.

xxxx

Veronica messes up, she messed up big time. It was one thing to make trouble for herself but it creating it for others wasn’t a thing she enjoyed. All she had to do was keep calm, walk away, and survive a day at school. Not be led through the back streets of Atlas by Nicholas of all people.

He hadn’t said a word to her but she hadn’t spoken either. The feeling of her blood rushing and the whirlpool of her instincts still washed over her like a sea of flames that did its best to simmer down. Nick must’ve been furious, he had a right to be. Veronica said she was fine when she wasn’t. Now this has happened. Veronica wanted nothing more than to scream at herself right now. How could she let this happen?

She continued to stare at the hand that held her wrist through an alley where Nick finally stopped and let go. Veronica wanted to say something but didn’t get the chance before Nick tossed a bag over his shoulder at her.

Veronica reacted just fast enough to catch it and was taken back by it. It was….jerky? Beef jerky at that. She looked to see him staring at her with concern. Veronica tried looking away but Nick tilted her back to stare into her animal like eyes. With her luck, he probably saw her fangs when she was screaming her head off earlier.

Nick: ‘So this is what I was supposed to look out for?’ You with me Vee?

Veronica:....

Nick:They sell those packs in the vending machines near the sports room. Taste isn’t that spectacular but I’m sure it’ll serve you better than me right now.

Veronica:....

Nick:Vee…?

Veronica:...Can you...turn around? I don’t want you to see me eat. Cover your ears too.

Nick:Uh, okay? *turns around* tap my shoulder when you're done I guess.

Veronica:Thanks…

Nick covered his ears and Veronica finally opened the extremely full bag. The aroma hit her like a truck and Veronica couldn’t help but let out a gulp the moment it did.

Nick clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, already feeling a little awkward after fifteen seconds. ‘Is she gonna eat all of that? The bag is a large size, people twice my size take a while to eat it.’ He was starting to regret making today's arm day in gym class. ‘Hopefully she just needs a few pieces of-’

The wind blew and the bag flew right by his head, completely empty and teared apart. The tap on his shoulder can immediately after. That...couldn’t have been the bag, no way. He turned around and couldn’t believe it, Veronica stood in front of him a little bit more composed than before. Her eyes were less intense, as well as her hair. Even Vee’s breathing was less erratic but she still wasn’t exactly calm either. The crumbs on her face didn’t help.

Nick caught himself staring a little too hard and tried to have a very even expression. Veronica was starting to look at him the way Summer looks at her scars. This was clearly a big deal to her. After all, this was all news to him.

Nick:Are you okay? Or you know...slightly better?

Veronica:Slightly better is a decent way of putting it, barely. My body hurts.

Nick:Well you probably have a few bruises, your lip and right hand is bleeding, and I might’ve tackled you a little hard once or twice whenever I arrived. I’ve seen explosive tempers but man.

Veronica:Did I...give you that bruise?

Nick:Consider it a team effort between the three of you. Serves me right for rushing in without thinking. Nothing a little aura can’t fix. Same goes for you I hope.

Veronica:I’ll be fine…

She walked towards him slowly and gently touched his nose. She did this to him. He might put blame on everybody but it was no doubt to spare her feelings. Veronica’s ears drooped down and she held back her tears. It was bad enough Nick saw her lose her cool, she wasn’t gonna let him see her tears.

Veronica:I’m sorry...really sorry. I’ve done nothing but lie, break promises, and caused you trouble. All on my first day too. Talk about pathetic. Now you’re hurt and going to be in trouble because of me.Frankly I...I don’t know why you aren’t yelling at right now. How can you tolerate me so much all the time? I wouldn’t be able to.

Nick:Well that’s easy, it’s not tolerating when you want to be around the person.

And just like that, Veronica was speechless.

Nick:Don’t get me wrong. Can’t say I’m okay with how today went or that I’m not disappointed that you couldn’t last the day; But you’ve always been a hothead. Today just explains why. Yang might’ve told me to keep an eye on you, out of love of course. So don’t be too upset with her okay? I wish I knew about this sooner. Pardon if I’m overstepping, but does this have anything to do with why you’re so reluctant to talk about Menagerie? Anytime I talk about visiting it’s always a no.

Veronica:It’s one of many reasons. Reasons I rather not get into, sorry.

Nick:That’s fair. It’s funny, we always talk about how we talk about everything but I guess something we can’t help but keep to ourselves. Did you think I’d hate you, or wouldn’t understand? Granted I’m definitely hazy on the specifics but I definitely don’t think any less of you. V-

Veronica:I like you…as in like, like you.

Blood rushed to both of their faces. Veronica didn’t make eye contact but she did take his hand and held it tight; it trembled ever so slightly.

Nick couldn’t tell if he was slightly under the weather like Valerie said or hearing the words aloud. Nick wasn’t dense like his father, but hearing a confession was still a crazy moment. Especially right now. A boy in his gym clothes and a roughed up school girl, standing in a snowy alleyway after running out of school. Maybe he should’ve slept in today.

Veronica:It’s not like it’s been some kind of secret. I was never good at subtlety. When you're around me...I try so hard for you to only see the best of me, though it rarely happens. So I kept quiet, from plenty of people. Unless you really know about faunus then how could you know what goes on under the surface? You’re the last person I wanted to tell. I thought you’d look at me differently.

Nick:Do I look that shallow?.

Veronica:I couldn’t take the chance. Not when you’re the one, the only who really sees me outside of my parents.

He wasn’t entirely sure Veronica meant by that. See her how? In what way was he different from someone like his sister or Valerie? Was it okay to ask that right now? He decided against it. Being pushed away earlier made him worried about it happening again.

So instead he told her a simple truth.

Nick:It’s not like you’re Shiva. I’ve stared in the eyes as she threatened my life and I still hug Summer without a care in the world. On a scale from one to ten, what happened at school was a two. If you ever need something then I’m here Vee. I care about you, a lot. Be who you are around me.

Veronica:....Anything Huh?

She leans forward slowly, her face crimson. Nick’s brain goes crazy. ‘Is she…!? Wait, no! I’ve never-’ Veronica’s head lands in the crook of his neck and her hands wrap around him weakly.

“Food…” she said half consciously. “Fattening food, meat. Please tell me Atlas has that?”

Nick:Okay! I know a spot that’s out of the way and serves anyone. So-

She shut her eyes and dozed off. Nick heard quiet purring from Vee and saw her injuries finally start to heal. A good sign, but Nick couldn’t travel like this! He’d have trouble even if he wasn’t sick; not to mention he totally forgot that he wasn’t in his regular clothes!

Nick:I did not think this through. No wallet or phone, a passed out girl, and parents that will murder us. Think Nick, who could I call right now that wouldn’t chew me out and still help? Oh! Duh…

xxxx

Penny:I called your parents.

Nick:Why!?

Penny:You’re minors...

Nick:At least they have time to calm down.

Penny:They’re sending Winter.

The boy nearly choked on his thermometer before Penny took it out. He currently sat on one of her medical beds while Veronica was sleeping in one next to him. A stack of meat lovers pizza by the bed was ready for her whenever she woke up.

Penny:Due to physical exhaustion from yesterday, insufficient rest, and slight dehydration, you’re running a slight fever Nicholas Schnee. Maybe even a cold if it gets worse. I’m ordering you to do nothing but rest and go to school. No training, or unneeded stress from extracurricular activities for two days.

Nick:But I have tournament-

Penny:Home and school! A council is not one person, they can get by without you. It would be a tragedy if you couldn’t even compete, then Summer would be disqualified from duos.

Nick:Sigh….yes ma’am. Sleep does sound nice.

Penny:48 hours will be up before you know it!

Nick:Maybe Val and Summer should’ve played hooky today too? Thanks for all this. I know you’re specifically in the medical field but…

Penny:I consider myself a jack of all PHDs.

Nick:How about an expert in faunus biology? Is Veronica-

Penny:She’s fine, but that’s all I can disclose without permission. I’m sure she’ll tell you more of her own free will when I leave the room. She is pretending to be asleep right now to avoid talking to me.

Nick:....WHAT!? *looks at her*

Veronica:.....

Penny:Oscar has tried convincing her to have at least one session with her as a request from her parents for some time now for reasons I’m not sure of. I doubt she wants to speak in my presence out of fear that I might tell Oscar something that he could use to understand her better. Question is, how long will she fake being unconscious until the smell of pizza is too much?

Veronica:*opens eyes* I’m begging you to leave.

Penny:Okay! I have work to complete anyways. Hopefully nothing burst into flames again. Don’t worry about your school belongings. Summer was told to get them.

Penny rubs Nick’s head and goes into a separate lab room. Veronica rises from the bed like a zombie and grabs a pizza box. Drool starts to form as she opens the box and grabs a slice. Meat lovers, it was beautiful. She almost inhaled the slice before looking up and turning red. Nick was staring at her calmly.

Veronica:Ummm….

Nick:Huh? Oh! *turns around* Sorry…

Veronica:It’s just really...I hate being seen when I eat like this. We can still talk though.

Nick:Hmm where to start?

Veronica:Those boys, how much trouble are they going to be for you?

Nick:Oh those knuckleheads won’t be a problem. I’m fortunate that you fought two people who. already hate me and plan on beating me senseless anyways.

Veronica:How is that a good thing exactly?

Nick:Because messing with you gives me an excuse to actively be cruel to them! The school will probably give all of us a slap on the wrist considering we’re in the tournament, duos in fact. They’re the runners up from last year. Both of them were pretty upset underclassmen took their gold.

Veronica:The big one, Max. He looks disturbingly a lot like his pops. Didn’t even know they lived here. Makes sense with the lack of equality around here still.

Nick:Don’t be too quick to judge. Max doesn’t hate faunus and my dad says Cardin is a pretty alright guy these days.

Veronica:Yet his son appears to be falling in similar pitfalls. Bastard said I wasn’t his type and gave me the strangest look.

Nick:Maybe he’s just not into blondes or something, I don’t know. As far as apples falling from trees go, my dad is pretty respectful and turns the other cheek quite a bit; that didn’t carry over haha.

Veronica:Yeah you’re petty and smug, like a gremlin or something. A cute one. You’re also very cheerful in a sarcastically optimistic way. Weird, you’re weird Nick.

Nick:It’s called charisma. Can I get a slice? This is a lot of pizza.

Veronica:Knock yourself out. You went a little overboard with ten boxes.

Nick:I don’t know how any of this works. Is there a certain ratio of meat or…

Veronica:Think of it as a kind of mental/physical diet. Meat sets of the animal instinct and keeps everything working okay. Too much and the instincts stay on. The eyes, hair, claws, teeth, and other more psychological things stick around. No meat eventually draws it out in a more aggressive nature and my body can’t operate well because of the messing the nutrients. Everything hurts.

Nick:So on one end you’re a peak apex predator, then the other is what, starved wildcat?

Veronica:I call it going feral but yeah that works. I don’t like either position. One is physically painful while the other….I just don’t like the “apex” me. It’s a lot to handle.

Nick:For you or other people?

Veronica:I’d like if we changed the subject please?

Nick:Sorry. Anything on your mind.

Veronica:...Your feelings for me.

He choked on a pepperoni, coughing and hacking it back up to catch his breath. Of course that’s on her mind! Nick had to keep his cool, this was important. He had answers but had no clue if they were good answers.

He turned around despite her earlier request. This had to be done face to face. Veronica must’ve known that because she wasn't eating anymore. Her hands rested on the box that most likely was empty by now and eyes focused on her normal looking nails.

Bright blush ran across her face again with her ears down. Her tail curled around her left arm. In a weird way he wished the world could see her right now. It was for this exact reason he always vouched for Vee. The overwhelmingly confident and rowdy island girl wasn’t all she was. Veronica could feel insecure or be meek.She never dismissed her faults but also had no shame pointing out others. Veronica saw everything she could in something and was honest about her feelings with it to the point all she ever did to avoid discussion was say she didn’t want to talk about it or be vague.

Nick:Uhh, what about the subject exactly?

Veronica:Can you get a little closer?

Nick stood up and sat on the edge of her bed. Veronica patted her hand and me closer. Then another pat made him get closer, then another, and another; until he was beside her. Vee’s hand grabbed his and she leaned, dangerously close. Nick started to feel his heart race again.

Veronica:Have you kissed a girl?

Nick:K..Kiss?! As in...no. H-Have you?

Veronica:Once, well a couple times by one person. It was pretty crappy honestly, for many reasons.

Nick:I’m sorry…

Veronica:It’s alright. I’m sure I’ll have better ones.

She could feel him shake a little. His heart sounded like firecrackers going off with how fast it was. Veronica leaned just a little closer and the boy shut his eyes. He made no advances, no tilt, or lean. Nick would’ve just let it happen. Veronica smiles before flicking his forehead to make him jump. She laughed and leaned back, but kept holding his hand.

Veronica:As much as I like you I won’t take anything you don’t want to give me. Your first kiss happens once. Do it on your terms. I hope Valerie accepts it.

Nick:I’m sorry.

Veronica:Don’t be. You’ve always looked her way. I can see why. I wish you thought I was as pretty and wonderful just like her. Maybe if I cracked more jokes or a bit nicer, then you would fall for-

Nick:You are so gorgeous Veronica Belladonna.

His words derailed her own. Nick smiled at the girl curiously with his blushing face that made her heart melt. This was unexpected. This face, those words, it was so...sincere.

Nick:You tell plenty of jokes, sure you need work on your attitude but Val is rowdier than you on occasion. There isn’t a thing about you that doesn’t make me…

Veronica:Nicholas…? Do you...feel something for me?

Nick:Of course I do you dunce.

Veronica:Then why-

Nick:Because Val has my heart. How could I date you knowing that? I’d feel really shitty being with someone that loves me so much and my heart is set on another girl. That’s not very chivalrous of someone who loves the idea of being a knight.

Veronica:So...I guess she really is the princess in your story?

Nick:Wrong. I’ve never thought of Val like that. She’s...my longest friend and companion. We’ve done so much together just to see if we could. Val to me is like another knight. Rival, friend, crush...she’s a lot. A princess isn’t one of them. If I’m being honest with myself, you’d be my princess.

Life was so unfair, he was unfair. Veronica’s mind was everywhere just like her blush. Was Nick letting her down easy or flirting!? How could he do both!? Veronica let go of his hand and put the covers over her head. Looking at his dumb face wasn’t helping the situation. She really was in love with this clown.

Veronica:You really are such a gremlin you know!? Now I like you more!

Nick:Oh...well..I don’t know what I was trying to do just now. I was explaining myself and sorta… I’m so fucking stupid. I’m gonna go wash up and give you some space now.

She gave him a thumbs up and heard his footsteps slowly grow distant until they stopped. Was he...looking back at her!? Was it with embarrassment or longingly!? It would be weird to peek out now! This cover was a bad idea. His footsteps started again and Veronica heard the doorknob open. Not yet, he couldn’t leave yet without her proper response.

Veronica:Nicholas?

Nick:Yeah?

Veronica:I hope, I hope things work out for you and Val. Regardless of my feelings I want you to be happy. That being said, don’t think I’m going to stop trying, because you...have my heart. And I need you to know that if for some reason Val doesn’t accept yours, or you get it back, I’ll accept it with open arms.

Nick:....

Veronica:....Too much?

Nick:No, it was just right. Thanks, Vee.

The door slowly creaked closed as he left. Just before it did however, the tiniest whisper slipped through. Was it on purpose, or did her hearing escape his thoughts. Either way Veronica pressed her pillow against her chest flustered.

“My princess” Damn those Schnees. They always know just what to say.

Part 16

#rwby #rwby twin snowflakes #nicholas schnee #eliza marigold #val valkyrie #veronica belladonna #max winchester #penny polendina #darren diabhalta #@ycilden oc is Darren #thank you

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billie-ford · 4 years

Text

Days Gone By

Houston. The biggest city in the state of Texas and the second largest in the country. But more intimately, it was the home of Billie Ford. She was known well throughout the countryside of Houston and even into the inner city as the kid that went the extra mile. A star runner on the high school track team, destined to make state. The friendly mechanic that willingly made house trips and sometimes took a hot meal as payment. The devoted wife and mother, the lively younger sister known for her exuberant energy. The street she lived on for more than half a decade was once known for it’s exuberant energy too; music bumping from almost every open window and a potluck every other week. It was now a decrepit wasteland. One of the first cities to fall when the virus broke and when it fell, it fell hard.

Every inch of public road was cluttered with debris, abandoned cars, streaks of blood and dead bodies - roaming or not. Music would not be heard on these streets ever again - unless you chose to count the mindless humming from Billie every now and again. Despite how sparse supplies had grown, Billie couldn’t bring herself to leave. Having already abandoned her once warm, loving home, she was now holed up in a strangers house on the other side of the city. Boarded up, furniture pushed against windows and a makeshift bed of sheets and couch cushions positioned messily in the center of the living room. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to call it quits, no matter how ghostly it had gotten in the last few months. Something was keeping her here, and she just couldn’t describe what it was.

(six months since the fall)

“How long will you be?”

Despite his name, Hunter Hammond was no scavenger. He was a meek man, all five-foot-nine of him. Abraham used to tease him when their families got together for a dinner, joking that Billie had managed to fuse her bisexuality and marry both a man and woman all in one. Hunter never liked Abraham too much.

“I’ll be as quick as I can but who knows what those streets look like now.” Billie tightened the laces of her boots before standing and slinging a backpack over her shoulder. Just behind Hunter, their son Devin played with plastic cars in their couch cushion bed. His smile and bubbly laugh was a constant reminder of what the world had been once, and for both Billie and Hunter it gave them hope.

Billie cupped her husband’s cheek, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. “Back before sundown. I promise. C’mere sweet boy,” she kneeled down and kissed her toddler on the head, breathing in the scent of his cloud-like curls. “You take care of your ol’ man for me, m’kay?” The boy smiled and nodded.

“Board this right back up.” She gave Hunter a stern look as she moved the furniture from the back door, their backyard a quiet enough escape to the road behind them. “I mean it. The second I’m out.”

“Don’t worry, I got you. Come back to me safe, Bill. I mean that.”

Hunter had shut the door before she could give him a second look, the sound of the couch scraping on the other side signaling she was now trapped on the back porch. She took off down the patio stairs, through the neighboring backyards and through the small line of trees that shielded the house from from the main road.

Billie liked to call them walkers. They reminded her of how her dad used to walk when he had knee surgery and ended up with a walking frame for a few weeks; hunched over, slow, lazy. Her father was an intimidating man - strong and stern, a frequent yeller who, just by cracking the buckle of his belt, had Billie stood straight and ready to accomplish any command. But even Abraham Sr. didn’t scare her as much as those things did. Her father could be reasoned with if you showed him enough respect; they could not. The howls of sorrow trapped inside distant memory disturbed her more than when they ran her way, jaws chomping and drooling for a taste of human flesh. Something she had only seen in her brother’s horror movies, and even those couldn’t prepare her for the sights she had seen. It was the humanity lost somewhere within them - that’s what terrified her. She remembered the first time she caught wind of the pandemic beginning to break across the globe; her ear just barely picking up the sound of the radio over power drills and welders.

She hadn’t been able to find Abraham since things really went to shit.

The military did what they could when things started to get out of control, but even they had families to protect and sticking around to maintain order just seemed foolish. Multiple trips were made to the Ford residence with no luck; Cupboards were barren, clothes strewn about and that picture he had on the mantle of the two of them one Christmas was busted out of its frame. Despite her excuses - he didn’t have time to come for me. they were in trouble. he did come by but I was already gone. he’s still around, we just keep missing each other. - she couldn’t kill the eating thought that he just left her. His baby sister, abandoned. He broke his promise. Subconsciously, that was the biggest reason she kept one foot in Houston - he was still coming back for her. But with every day that passed with no sign of life, the hope that he was still close - and breathing - faded further and further away...

The camp was far beyond the rest of civilization. And good for it. The tops of buildings looked like shoe boxes interwoven with visibly abandoned streets in the far distance, gray in comparison to what it once used to be. This flat plot of land had barely been touched by human hands when it was found; turned up dirt and rock accompanied by machinery and port-a-potties. A construction sight soon to be turned into a number of vacation homes, that much they gathered from the weathered sign stuck in the ground at the base of the hill.

Breakfast ended an hour ago; watery eggs with sparse salt and bitter potatoes. Everyone was busy now, in the full swing of their day; taking buckets of dishes to the river to be washed while another group returned with wet laundry to hang dry.

“You should let these grow so I can push them to the side. You don’t really want all this hair in your eyes do ya, hun?”

Jane Ford, forty-two, a high school swim coach in what now seemed to be another life now sat in her husband’s tattered flannel and blue jeans tucked into yellow hospital socks. With her eldest between her knees, she snipped away at the atrocious bob the child had given herself a year prior. Her bangs stuck out every which way and no amount of water, time, or prayer would set the needle straight hairs into place. Jane huffed in defeat and dropped the comb and fabric scissors into a cup at her foot.

“I like it like this, momma.” The ten year old stated while playing with the torn ear of her stuffed bunny, given to Jane as a baby shower gift from her aunt. The dirty old thing brought her comfort more now than ever, a reminder of her favorite - well, her only - aunt.

‘You hug this little guy every single night. And wherever I am I’ll be sure to feel it.’

“Leave her hair alone, darlin’. If she likes it than she likes it.” Abraham watched his girls while sipping a black coffee, occasionally looking out into the horizon to scan for survivors or otherwise. “We Fords have the tendency to look good in whatever hairstyle we’re rockin’.” He winked at his daughter who grinned.

“Tell that to your tenth grade mullet.” “You still had a crush on me didn’t ya sweetheart?” “Oh, stick it!” “Last time I did we ended up with the twins..” “Ew, dad!”

He howled with laughter and beckoned his child to come towards him. She jumped up into his lap and he tussled her wet hair, the act earning him a curse from his wife. He pressed a kiss to the side of her head and took that moment to thank God. His family, all five of them, were together and secure. But every thankful thought was followed by the sudden sorrow he felt for his first family; his baby sister. Big Bad Bill.

He was a military sergeant and when he was called to duty the only thing on his mind was getting this issue under control. He only evacuated the quarantine camps when he had absolutely no choice and by the time he reached his home in the suburbs it was too late to go the inner city. She was just too far away from him. He couldn’t count on all fingers and toes how many times he’d been down in that area since then, practically swatting her home the second he could. Empty. She had taken the photo of them from his high school graduation on her fireplace.

Despite the “no man left behind” attitude instilled in him during boot camp, he just couldn’t bring himself to believe that his sister was still alive. She was tough, but she wasn’t survive-life-or-death-situations-tough. She was just a mechanic.

A familiar shrill voice followed by marching steps in the gravel snapped him out of his pity party. With a groan, he shooed his daughter away to play with the other kids before standing to meet the five-foot-two hurricane that was Marizol Espinosa. “Dios mio Abraham! My Rosita should have been home days ago!” The group he had sent out nearly three days ago had yet to return and despite the majorities silence, everyone was a little worried about their return. Marizol was not one of the silent ones.

“Te quiero fuera. Out there. Searching for them.” A manicured hand rested on a jutted hip, the other pointing a bullet like index into the ginger brutes face. Jane’s eyes flickered between the two cautiously as she busied herself with cleaning chunks of dark hair from her lap.

“Mary, I wouldn’t have sent the group that I sent if I didn’t think they could handle their hides. Give em the day darlin’, I’ll radio in from time to time and if nothin’ still I’ll send a crew after em.”

“Oh dios- get more people lost! Or killed! You listen to me jengibre...” As she opened her mouth to grill him with undoubtedly ruthless insults, the radio on his belt crackled with life. A female voice just barely came through. Abraham gave Marizol a smug grin.

“I’ve always loved you, and made you happy...and nothing else could come between...but now you’ve left me, to love another...you have shattered..all..of my dreams..” Breathless, Billie trudged along the side of the road as the afternoon heat caused beads of sweat to rolled down her jaw. With daylight running low she was worried this would be another unsuccessful supply run, having already searching multiple stores and homes throughout town. “You are my sunshine. My only sunshine..you make me happy when skies are gray..you’ll never know dear- fuckin’ hell it’s hot.”

She came to a stop outside of a gas station. A run down shack of a business that she had been to multiple times for a cigarette and a beer during her commute back home after work. But with its busted out windows and disregarded hoses it looked to be a completely foreign shop.

In and out quickly was the plan, and smooth enough it went. She packed what she could; in her months of scavenging she learned quickly that if you looked for things where those things weren’t meant to be, you could find what you needed. With a bowie knife in one hand and a half melted snickers from the cash register in the other she wandered the aisles freely, skimming underneath shelves for stray cans and water bottles. As she was preparing to leave, check today off as a successful enough day, one too many walkers began crowding the door from which she came, falling through busted windows and disemboweling themselves on shards of glass. She took down what she could with her bowie, hoping to clear a way to the road but for every one she killed two more crowded in its place. “Fuck.”

Searching hastily with a newfound feeling of vertigo, she spotted the employee exit behind the counter. A pipe had been lodged into the handle and bent outwards, trapping it shut. She cleared the counter, shivering at the feeling of rotting hands skimming the back of her arms before forcing the pipe out of place and slamming the door shut behind her. Her footsteps echoed off the walls as she searched her bag for a flashlight, her knife wielding hand still raised defensively.

“Grab them!”

Billie felt the sharp pain of a shoulder in her spine as she was tackled to the ground, her cheek crashing into the cold pavement and the wind escaping her lungs as her knife slid feet away from her grasp. She was frisked for her weapons, her bag tore violently from her shoulder as a knee remained snug between her shoulder blades.

“You one of the bitches that jumped us?” “Huh!? No!”

The cool metal of a gun barrel met her temple and she stuttered, “I ain’t here to hurt no one! I’m just stuck! On the bible, man!”

“What do you mean stuck?”

“There’s an ocean of them dead fools out that door behind me- gotta be packed to capacity by now. Man can you get off my back you’re hurting me!”

She was hoisted to her feet as a lamp clicked on. The room lit up in a small yellow glow, revealing a number of people surrounding her. To her left, brunette hair was pulled back under a military cap and tan hands secured in fingerless gloves held a glock steady to her head. Latina. Her glare was strong, eyebrows knitted as she trained her sights on Billie.

“There was a group in here yesterday. They locked us in.” In front of her, a young asian boy sat on a railing. They were in a garage. “Think you can help us out of here?” The man previously kneeling on her spine asked. He was the stockiest of the group; dark skinned, a gap tooth, and a flat cap concealing a bald head.

She didn’t have much of a choice. Either they all got out or none of them got out. “I can try once your friend gets that barrel off my cheek.” She huffed. A delivery truck sat begging to be used in the middle of the garage. A full tank but no keys, they say. Luckily for them, Billie didn’t need keys. She looked towards the latina, and only after the asian boys pleas did she lower her weapon.

After she jimmied the lock for a while, Billie got the door open and jumped into the driver seat, the latina following her every move as she popped off the connector to the ignition. She looked down to the only other woman and quirked a smile, “you wouldn’t happen to have a bobby pin would ya, hun?” Deadpanned, she dug into her hair and retrieved two bobby pins, slapping them into Billie’s hand who muttered a thank you. In seconds she had the pins poked into each hole of the connector and the truck growled with life. First the lights, brightening the room even more but she refrained from turning the engine, alas, suffocating them all with toxic fumes. Billie turned to the woman below, already used to the bitter gaze she sent her way. “You get the door open and you’re home free.”

“You should come with us.” Once stepping out of the truck she was greeted by the man that had tackled her to the ground, now smiling at her apologetically while extending a hand to shake, “call me T-Dog.” The latina huffed in protest. “She’s useful, Rosita.” Rosita.

“I would love to but uh..I got people waiting on me.” “They can come too.” “There’s no way you’re getting this truck up that road.” “We’ll wait.” “We can’t wait for some stranger, we’ve got people worried about us.”

“I could go with you!” It was the asian boy again, short black hair now covered with a baseball cap. He approached Billie with a smile that rivaled T-Dog’s. These weren’t people that Billie would coin as survivors - all but Rosita maybe - but here they were anyways. “I know my way around the city. We can pick up whoever you’re with and head back to camp.”

“So there’s more of y’all..?” “Loads.”

Rosita shook her head again. “No, no. That’s too many more mouths to feed and we’re already low on supplies.”

“Actually, Rosita, I don’t think supplies will be an issue...”

A voice echoed from within the newly unlocked truck, the sliding door disconnecting the storage space from the front seat now wide open. They followed the sounds of his footsteps to the back door where it was then unlocked from inside, flew open with a loud clang, and revealed stacks upon stacks of unopened cans, bags of chips, and soda. The man - the eldest of the group - smiled down at them, particularly Billie. “That solves that problem young lady.”

“Look at that,” the asian quipped, “we’ve got food for a few more mouths, someone who knows their way around a sticky situation, and you got us to watch your back. Sounds like wins all around to me!”

Everyone seemed to be in agreement of letting this squirrely stranger and her mystery companions join the group, all but Rosita, who had Billie wondering if she had cut her off in traffic one time.

“She helped us when we needed it, Ro,” he reasoned, “she didn’t have to.” He seemed keen on having Billie join them but she just shrugged; made no difference to her. Even the older man, who looked to have been on a fishing trip before they got locked in here, threw in his two cents. “Always room for a survivor.”

“I’ll tell you what,” Rosita squared up to Billie with folded arms. “You get that door open and you get to come back with us. Bring your boyfriend or whatever. Bien?”

“Gracias, a-mee-go.”

If you looked for things where those things weren’t meant to be, you could find what you needed. - Billie’s Law.

Billie knew garages like the back of her hand, and she knew of the spare clicker that came with every garage system. It was a shot in the dark, hoping the door would even work if she found it, but she searched high and low despite it. Even despite Rosita’s smug bark of ‘we looked for it already’. Like a dog on a scent she overturned garbage cans and tools boxes all while she watched impassively. No clicker. But underneath a uniform coat, beneath a stack of scrap metal, was a car jack, and Billie knew more than a few ways to use one of those.

With a loud bang and a rustic whine, Billie managed to jam the jack underneath the door enough to bend it and gave the handle a few pumps to lift it all while T-Dog and Rosita readied themselves to bash the skulls of any unwanted stragglers. She managed enough space to roll under and the asian boy quickly followed, keeping an eye out for her while she finished the job. Eyes stinging with sweat, Billie picked away at the lock while disembodied moans approached her, silenced by the lead pipe her new comrade armed himself with. The door was finally freed in minutes; they were free and she had a new home for her baby boy.

“Looks like you’re ours now.” The boy smiled again. “Glenn.”

She shook his hand, her grip firmer than his. “Billie.”

#days gone by #chapter two #writing #fanfiction #twd #oc #billie ford #hunter hammond #devin hammond #abraham ford #jane ford #millie ford #marizol espinosa #rosita espinosa #glenn rhee #t-dog #dale horvath

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jesussavedevenme · 4 years

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Sleep

Quick idea I had when I was writing some Christmas one shots. Sorry I haven't updated in awhile my school does semester long classes and finals are absolutely horrible but here it is anyway. Sleep

Kendra looked up from her book at the sound of keys jingling in the lock of the cabin. She remembered insisting they didn't need a lock on the door when living in the woods of Fablehaven but Bracken, being the overprotective person that he was, had put one in any way. Truthfully, though she was too stubborn to admit it, Kendra was thankful to have it as an extra measure of protection. Closing her book, Kendra smiled as she slid off the couch and walked over to the door just as Bracken unlocked it. Her smile quickly faded to a frown of concern as she looked at her husband. Bracken was a sight. Truthfully, after all the long hours he had pulled, she had expected it, but never to this extent. He looked absolutely spent, and he swayed in a way that suggested he could fall over and sleep at any moment. However, despite all this, he looked amazing. His silver hair was messy from running his fingers through it, giving him a roguishly handsome look and his cloudy, sleepy, Blue eyes gave him an almost endearing look. She hated it when he did this. Worked himself this hard. However, whatever anger she had melted when he stumbled toward her and pulled him in a hug, kissing the top of her head. “ Hey princess, it's late, I appreciate you waiting up for me, but you really don't have to stay up this late. I know you're tired.” Bracken said in a low, slow voice. Trying, and failing to hide his own exhaustion. “ I am tired.” Kendra admitted pulling back to look him in the eyes. He smiled lovingly down at her as he stared through half kissed tired eyes. , “ But so are you. You can't keep working yourself like this. Your Mother will understand.” “ I know there's just so much work to do and not a lot of time to accomplish it. The fairy realm has to be perfect by next solstice for the gala.” Bracken explained, untucking his shirt as he walked to sit on the couch. However, the poor exhausted unicorn missed the edge of the couch, ending up sitting on the floor. He groaned too exhausted to get up, allowing his head to roll back and rest on the couch. Kendra tried her best to stifle the giggle that rose in her throat. Upon hearing the giggle Bracken fixed her with a playful glare. “ It's not funny.” He replied, trying and failing to hide the smile that graced his lips and swallow his own laugh that rose up in his throat. Kendra knew he hated the fact that he was unable to keep a poker face even if it was just her at the moment. Kendra walked over to the couch sitting on the spot above Bracken as she picked up his head and set it in her lap beginning to play with his hair. Bracken's eyes fluttered shut as he sighed in content. “ The Gala is still a few weeks away and the fairy realm looked amazing when I last saw it. “ Kendra said quietly, trying to soothe his worries as easily as he soothes her. The Winter Gala was like a Fairy Realm New Year and Christmas all wrapped into one. It was held four days after Christmas. This was a huge event and it was also the first time Bracken had been put in charge of it. He spent the entirety of his day decorating, rebuilding, and touching up 'rougher' parts of the fairy realm. Truthfully Kendra didn't think much more work needed to be done but Bracken had proven to be a 'Go big or go home ' kind of person. In his eyes nothing was down until it was extravagant, perfect, and everyone was happy. “ It may be a few weeks before the Gala but it's only two weeks before the winter solstice and that's when people start arriving. “ Bracken replied and Kendra sighed, knowing that it was true. Creatures of light from all over would begin arriving after the solstice, some even a few days before and would stay until after the Gala had passed. Putting endless amounts of pressure on the preparations crew as they rushed to find places for them to stay, prepare meal plans and menus, and if course decorate the Fairy Realm itself. “ Well, either way, I was there yesterday and it looks beyond amazing." Kendra said not exaggerating. The Lights and decorations beat even the shows in New York. The beauty of the Fairy Realm never failed to amaze her, but this time of year was especially beautiful. It was made even more so by Bracken's careful planning and design. Bracken cracked open his eyes, giving her a rueful smile. " No offense sweetheart, but most of the people coming to the Gala aren't nearly as easy to impress. They expect bigger and better all the time. " Unfortunately Kendra couldn't disagree with that. While not all the creatures felt entitled to the best, most did and It put unnecessary pressure on everyone involved. So instead of replying Kendra let her hands slide down to Bracken's shoulders and rub at the tension there. Bracken shifted, sitting up somewhat to allow her better access to the knots. She didn't know how long they sat like that with the only sounds being the rustle of his shirt as she kneaded at his back and the crackling of the fire, but eventually Bracken slowly stood up, sleep clear in his eyes, as he reached for her hand and gently pulled her up from the couch. Slowly they made their way to their bedroom. Kendra watched in mix of concern and amusement as Bracken stumbled over to their bed somehow managing not to trip, as he collapsed on the bed almost instantly starting to snore slightly. All of his usual grace and coordination, gone. Kendra walked over and pulled the blankets over her sleeping husband before crawling in on the other side. As she settled she felt Bracken's strong arm wrap around her pulling her close and his lips kiss the top of her head despite his exhaustion. Kendra smiled. While she hated that Bracken worked himself so hard, she did have to admit that sleepy Bracken was one of her favorites.

††††

Again sorry I haven't updated in awhile. I should have some Christmas one shots out here soon and after everything calms down after the holidays I should be able to update more often. So we'll see!

#fablehaven #dragonwatch #kendra sorenson #bracken #brackendra #fluff #sorry

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anhed-nia · 5 years

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I LOVE RAVENOUS MORE THAN YOU DO

RAVENOUS is one of my favorite movies of all time. It may not be the prettiest, or the deepest, or the most refined movie or all time, but it is a true original, and one that insinuated itself into my mental DNA from the moment I saw it. It arrived on home video around the time that I was about to leave for college, so it makes a certain amount of sense that it would have such a lasting impact on the rest of my adult life. I was initially attracted to the its excessive violence, its salt-in-the-wound humor, and its style of rustic perversion to which I was well-disposed since THE TEXAS CHAIN SAW MASSACRE first ruined my life as a teenager. But, there is more to RAVENOUS than these broad strokes descriptors, and looking back, it is easy to see how this unusual film catalyzed my ability to read films, and at the risk of being dramatic, my ability to understand myself.

(why does this movie only have awful posters?)

RAVENOUS is the only horror movie I can think of that takes place during the Mexican-American war, an unconventional setting that is the first sign of how truly odd this movie will be. Guy Pearce plays John Boyd, a soldier who is being celebrated for turning the tide of a major battle. The reality is that he survived the fray by hiding under a pile of his countrymen's corpses, bathing in their blood and viscera, until an unexplainable burst of rage drove him to capture the Mexican commanders, garnering him the undeserved mantle of hero. General Slauson (John Spencer) has Boyd's number, though, and ships the coward off to the impossibly remote mountain outpost of Fort Spencer, a sort of depot for undesirables like himself. No sooner has Boyd resigned himself to his fate, than the group's stasis is destroyed by the arrival of a wandering frontiersman (the incomparable Robert Carlyle) who claims to have escaped from a Donner Party-like tragedy. Naturally, their ingratiating guest turns out to be the villain at the heart of his own story, and worse yet, a carrier of the supernatural wendigo virus that rewards cannibalism with virtual immortality. The whole situation quickly devolves into a Darwian competition to sort out the predators from the provisions, seasoned liberally with analogies to Manifest Destiny and American consumerism.

Writer Ted Griffin's prismatic metaphors could be pretty clunky on their own, with cheeky comparisons between cannibalism and communion, and handy food-related quotations from founding father Benjamin Franklin. Happily, Antonia Bird's distinctive directorial style prevents RAVENOUS from degenerating into a broad-side-of-the-barn satire of American history. Griffin's overly familiar arguments act as stabilizing road signs, as the viewer navigates the otherwise hostile and alien territory explored by Bird. In the broadest sense, RAVENOUS is a movie about bodies out of control: cravings and terrors that annihilate one's self-control, that erode one's dignity, that blend repulsion and eroticism into a noxious but irresistible brew. The body wages war on the personality, the morals, the institutional rank and decoration; it wages war on other bodies, and ultimately on itself. Griffin the cultural critic has his place here, but it is Antonia Bird's unique understanding of frailty and hysteria that makes this movie so affecting.

RAVENOUS begins with a gloriously shocking opener that joins pornographic closeups of the celebratory steak served at Boyd's promotional dinner, with Boyd vomiting violently outside of the dining hall. The body is turned inside out right away in this movie, and this stunt is immediately followed by a similarly disorienting trick turned by the film's main theme. The experimental score, a collaboration between the great Michael Nyman and Damon Albarn from Blur, establishes its power with a composition that is written in 6/7 time, creating a rhythm that is very difficult to follow for the average ear. Thus the viewer is first nauseated by the imagery, then disoriented by the sound, and it is in this unsettled state that one remains for the rest of the film.

There are a number of such bizarre formal techniques to discuss, and they are well matched by Bird's management of her cast. Even for a horror film, RAVENOUS is an extremely physical movie. The terminally guilty Boyd seems to be on the verge of literal implosion; the squirrelly and barely verbal religious fanatic Toffler (Jeremy Davies) scrambles around breathlessly at a pace that puts him in danger of killing himself (which he finally nearly does); the only "real" soldier in the bunch, the nightmarishly aryan Private Reich (Neal McDonough), is first seen screaming half-submerged in a frigid mountain stream, suggesting that even the the conventional trappings of heroism are purely pathological here. Other characters are chronically drunk or high, struggling just to stay awake or walk a straight line. The radical loss of identity in which the organism transforms from a sentient being, into stew in a cauldron, almost seems like a natural eventuality of the abjection and loss of control suffered by everyone at Fort Spencer.

This moral and physical degeneracy, that is the status quo with Boyd and his cohorts, eventually contaminates the mind as well. When I first saw RAVENOUS, I was entirely ignorant of real artistry in film, and whether I knew it or not, my malnourished brain was in dire need of deviance from Hollywood norms of beauty and power. At that time, I was mainly accustomed to two approaches to human behavior in films: First, the James Bond model, in which characters only behave as if they have perfect foresight and complete control of their emotions and deliberation even in the face of catastrophe. I use "James Bond" as the most recognizable face of this hyperrationalism, but this approach pervades most mainstream films involving any kind of peril. How many times have you, the reader, had to sit through a screening in which some know-it-all picks apart the decisions and reactions of every character, as if it were reasonable to expect any person on either side of the screen to behave with robotic pragmatism regardless of their circumstances? But people do expect this from fictional protagonists on the whole. The second approach that I want to identify is mainly relegated to slasher movies; According to this model, characters are permitted to make the stupidest possible choices at every juncture, because the audience has a preexisting assumption that these victims will be sacrificed on the altar of our prudish morals, or simply for the vicarious enjoyment of the power wielded by a Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers. What we rarely see in the mainstream, outside of the comedy genre, is shock, mania, hysteria, the loss of one's faculties that comes when one experiences a violent divorce from accepted reality.

Other than the aforementioned TEXAS CHAIN SAW, RAVENOUS was the first movie I had ever seen that addressed the neurological reality of trauma. Boyd's uncontrollable vomiting at the very beginning of the film is just a taste of Antonia Bird's mastery of this subject. She has ample opportunity to address this with her cast when the interloping cannibal "survivor" Colqhoun, first leads the unsuspecting Fort Spencer crew to the cave where he says the "real" cannibal is hiding out. Upon their arrival, Colqhoun throws himself into an alarming fugue state, apparently reliving the trauma of the nightmare from which he fled. He pants and gasps, smirks and grimaces, claws at the air and at the earth, as if to bury himself, effectively scaring the shit out of everybody. After he reveals his true intentions and massacres most of the crew before chasing Boyd and Reich off the edge of a cliff, another interesting neurological event transpires. At the bottom of the hole into which they have plummeted, with Reich's last spasm of life, he clamps his fingers around Boyd's throat until his maniacal laughter turns into a death rattle. An even finer example comes after Boyd has returned to camp, having shamefully mended his wounds by dining on Reich's corpse as per the wendigo myth. Still recuperating, Boyd greets the arriving officers who are escorting the Fort's replacement commander--who turns out to be Colqhoun, now dressed neatly as the "Colonel Ives" on whom he blamed the cannibalistic murders of his fellow frontiersman. At the sight of this shocking enemy, Boyd pivots wildly and slams face first into the nearest wall, crumbling like a swatted insect on the floor and shaking uncontrollably.

These are some of the principle moments that won RAVENOUS my heart, and that really let me know what I was searching for in films. In fact, this movie was so formative for me that it led to a sort of impromptu ritual of breaking with my childhood. As with all cultists, my desperation to rope in everybody I knew intensified along with my obsession. I couldn't imagine that anybody would reject this beautiful and fabulously unusual work of art. I pulled a lot of wins, but I was in for a rude awakening where it should have counted. I refer to my "best friend" and "high school sweetheart" of about ten years, a guy who dominated my cultural life for almost as long as we were pals, since he was slightly smarter and had slightly better taste than our high school peers, but very little interest in having his mind expanded, as I eventually realized. When I showed him my new favorite movie of all time, I was brutally disappointed by his scoffing at every scene that I considered to be the movie's crowning accomplishments. He scrunched up his face and rejected Reich's murderous dying breath as "stupid" and "fucked up" and "making no sense". Today I'm not sure how hard I tried to explain that, look, we're talking about a character who is on the brink of death, whose final moments were in especially ugly combat, and who is really extremely brain damaged; more to the point, he really hates Boyd, the coward, and may have tried to kill him at some point even if he were fully possessed of his faculties. I mean, we're finally seeing something psychiatrically real here...aren't we? I got the same snotty dismissal from my viewing companion when Boyd went into shock at the sight of Ives--shock, a real acknowledged medical condition--and really during any scene that he considered too awkward and bizarre to be "cool" and heroic. It was at that very moment that I knew we wouldn't be friends for much longer, and we actually fell out of touch a few years later.

With that personal digression out of the way, though, I'd like to return to the cave (don't I always?) to discuss how Antonia Bird, her DP Anthony B. Richmond, and her editorial team work together to keep the audience in more or less the same state of discomfort and disorientation as the characters. RAVENOUS was also the first movie that taught me how to interpret the visual grammar of film, since I watched it so often that, eventually, I couldn't miss what was going on. Bird and co. have a way of distorting and compressing space that prevents the viewer from ever really knowing where you are. When the crew arrives at the low, carbon black mouth of the cave, there is a sense that it couldn't possibly be as deep as Colqhoun's story suggests (and in practical reality, it isn't). When Boyd and Reich creep inside, the tunnel plunges promptly into a weird homey sublevel where Colqhoun had been subsisting on his fellow travelers. This is sort of weird, but not as weird as what happens outside. When Colqhoun plunges into his fugue state, we see in it a sweaty, spittle-flecked closeup. His behavior spooks Toffler, who in his own closeup cowers against his commanding officer Colonel Hart (Jeffrey Jones, playing essentially the same character as in Deadwood). Colqhoun appears to stalk closer and closer to the camera, but how close is he to Toffler and Hart? We have no idea, until he circles back to the pit he just dug and then lunges through the air to plant a knife in Hart's abdomen, gutting him. Then, when Boyd and Reich give chase, there is a moment where Reich stares into the camera, giving Boyd an order. Boyd looks shyly into the camera before glancing off, suggesting that he flinches away from Reich's hateful gaze--but in the next shot, we see that Boyd is actually behind Reich, looking in a completely different direction. Part of me suspects that Bird and her crew were making the most of the small and somewhat sparse-looking patch of woods that they had for this scene, but it gets more interesting later on. As Colquhoun-now-Ives surreptitiously prepares a human stew back at camp, the permanently drunk Major Knox (Stephen Spinella, who seems determined to turn RAVENOUS into a balls-out comedy) shouts down the hysterical Boyd--all in closeup, so where are they? As it turns out, Ives is in one building, Knox stands in a passageway outside the door, and Boyd sits shackled in a separate building in the distant background. Finally, in Boyd's epic showdown with Ives, there is a fascinating moment in which Boyd saunters into the room, gazing staunchly ahead, ready to kill. Cut to Ives standing in front of a roaring fire, spinning neatly to face his adversary--but when we cut back to Boyd, we see that he is completely alone in the space. Shortly, Ives plunges through the ceiling behind him; they were never even on the same floor. RAVENOUS consistently leaves the viewer as disoriented and untethered as its characters are emotionally.

This battle itself harkens back to the movie's crucial focus on the often degrading and humiliating experience of piloting a human body. In both the James Bond and slasher movie models of movie behavior that I previously discussed, a climactic showdown should be fast-paced, furious, with impressive feats of athleticism by the combatants. Not so in RAVENOUS. The final scene is accompanied by an eight-and-a-half minute minimalist trudge through hell by Nyman and Albarn that never threatens to raise your blood pressure with stings or arias. The music perfectly matches this sluggish fight between two men whose bodies have been repeatedly destroyed and recreated. Their weapons are a letter opener, a meat cleaver, a pretty substantial log, and finally, a massive bear trap. The conflict is no clash of the titans, no beautiful realization of the full potential of male aggression. It is gruesome, tragic, and in some way, romantic.

I would be remiss if I failed to dig in to the eroticism of this movie. Like all vampire movies, there is a virgin and a seducer, a victim who calls their lack of worldliness dignity, and a predator who sees chastity as a shameful waste of life. RAVENOUS is one of at least three movies that Antonia Bird made about the unique relationships between men in traditionally male situations. Her heist movie FACE has been compared to HEAT, though I am really thinking of the incendiary drama PRIEST. In this, her impressive directorial debut, a young man of the cloth struggles with the disturbing intrusion of sex into his chaste life, be it in the lives of deviant clergyman, or abused child parishioners, or in his own struggle with homosexuality. Robert Carlyle plays the unhappy lover left out in the cold, drifting down the street on a skateboard like a hovering ghost, trying to convince the eponymous character that love is greater than its stingy biblical proscription. While there are no literal love scenes in RAVENOUS, it takes place in a similar world, made up almost only of men--men who are brothers in arms, who look after each other's souls and bodies, and who even consume each other's bodies, who gain strength from one another by breaking the ultimate taboo. The closing image, of Boyd and Ives pinned chest to chest by the bear trap, bleeding to death in each other's arms, remains for me one of the tenderest images in all of horror cinema.

I would like to close by asserting that Bird's deft exploration of male sensitivity is nowhere more powerful than in her direction of David Arquette, the unlikely shining star of RAVENOUS. The often intolerably wacky comedic actor plays Private Cleaves, an absolute reject from society who (barely) functions as the help around Fort Spencer. He and George (Joseph Runningfox), one of two Native American appendages to the crew, are consistently high out of their minds, which may make them look like fools, but it also designates them as being the most wisely in touch with the genuinely hopelessness of their situation. When George is slaughtered by Colqhoun, Cleaves is left all alone tending the Fort, and he has a few scenes of powerful vulnerability before his inevitable demise. In between two key plot beats, we find Cleaves and George's sister Martha (the quietly wonderful Sheila Tousey) standing together in the snowy yard, observing the new commanding officer's arrival. What should be a forgettably dry piece of exposition concludes with Cleaves instinctively turning to Martha and stroking her hair, which causes both of them to dissolve in tears. In an adjacent scene, Boyd watches through the window as the agonizingly bereaved Cleaves chops wood in the yard, alone. Cleaves, certainly intoxicated, weaves and sweats, giggling in an unnervingly forced manner to try to resurrect the perpetual good time that he once enjoyed with his murdered best friend. The scene dissolves into a fantasy in which Boyd gives in to his mounting cannibalistic urges and eviscerates Cleaves--throughout which Cleaves laughs and laughs with escalating insanity. It is difficult to convey the raw force of the sequence in words, so I will just say this: Early this year, I dared to point out that among the many strange virtues of STARSHIP TROOPERS is the fact that terminal screwball Jake Busey is so warm, so funny, and so emotionally available in that movie that it almost throws off the deliberately boneheaded artificiality of the entire rest of the cast. So, I would just like to conclude that, if your movie involves somebody from EIGHT LEGGED FREAKS or Shasta McNasty, and you get that person to provide you with one of the most sensitive performances in the whole show, you're probably doing something right.

#blogtober #horror #cannibal #cannibalism #wendigo #vampire #antonia bird #robert carlyle #guy pearce #david arquette #stephen spinella #neal mcdonough #john spencer #ted griffin #jeffrey jones #jeremy davies #ravenous

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snidgetsafan · 6 years

Text

The Curse of the Black Roger: Prologue

Rating: G

Summary:

“You should start believing in ghost stories, Miss Swan – because you’re in one.”

When young Princess Emma found a pirate necklace on the baby rescued from the sea, she never expected years later to be swept into an adventure worthy of her favorite novels.

And she certainly never expected someone like the legendary Captain Hook.A

“Pirates of the Carribean” AU

Notes: Here is my offering for the CSSNS! Thanks to @amorecolorfulmoniker, whose pic set inspired this fic. Thanks to my betas, @gingerchangeling and @shireness-says who acted as a sounding board, a crying shoulder and grammar enforcers where needed. Thanks also to @slow-smiles, who created amazing art for this fic! Wonderful banner by @wingedlioness.

On AO3

“Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me…”

Emma leant on the railing at the bow of the Pride of Amphitrite, her gaze lost in the dense mist surrounding the ship while she hummed dreamily. This was her first trip abroad, and she had enjoyed it immensely, despite the circumstances in which she had taken the journey. She had spent her time on the ship observing the men working, exploring the deck and hold, and trying to spot dolphins in the water below. Now, on the last day of their return trip, she was trying to take advantage of their last hours at sea to feel the spray on her face and smell the salt in the breeze.

Her mother, Queen Ruth of Misthaven, and she were making their way back from her uncle and aunt’s memorial, which had taken place the week before. Her mother had been sad, because Aunt Gerda had been her sister, but Emma hadn’t known her very well. She had only met Aunt Gerda once, when they had gone to Arendelle to see her cousin Anna, who had just been born. However, she had tried to help her mother, by being well-behaved and entertaining her cousins, even if Elsa had refused to come out of her room. The young princess had missed her brother and father while she was gone, but David had come down with chickenpox three days before leaving, and he’d had to stay in bed, with their father taking care of him.

Heavy footsteps sounded behind her. “You shouldn’t be singing that song, your Highness, that’s bad luck,” Manley, one of the sailors, gruffly told her when she turned around. “That sort of song is calling for trouble, is what it is. Almost as bad as whistling, that damn song is.”

“I would thank you, Mister Manley, to watch your language around the Princess,” a disapproving voice told Emma’s interlocutor before she could answer. Grumbling into his red neck scarf about not needing any bad luck in this pea soup, the stocky sailor walked away as she looked behind her, seeing her mother and the Pride’s captain approaching. When they had come to within a few feet of her, the captain bowed to her, and continued, “While his language was quite inappropriate, he was right, your Highness. That song makes sailors nervous, and pirates are not to be admired.”

Clasping her hands tightly, Emma told him, “I think it would be quite exciting to meet a pirate.”

Her mother frowned while the captain smiled briefly. “Think again, your Highness. They are vile and vicious creatures, who thrive on the misery of others, and who have never worked a day of honest work in their lives. I’ll make sure any man or woman found convicted of piracy gets what they deserve: a short drop and a sudden stop.”

Emma gasped when she understood his meaning, as her mother hurried to her side and held her shoulders. “I’m not sure this is appropriate talk for a ten year old girl, Captain Cassidy.”

The man lowered his eyes, and then bowed to his Queen. “You are right, your Majesty. Please accept my apologies, it won’t happen again.” He turned to look at Emma. “I am sorry if I have shocked you, Princess, it was not my intention.” And with another bow, he was gone, making his way towards the stern.

Emma turned towards her mother, dislodging the Queen’s hands from her shoulders. “Actually I find all of this fascinating.”

“Yes, that’s what concerns me,” the Queen told her drily, raising her eyebrows. “A young lady should not find pirates fascinating or exciting. And she definitely should not know pirate shanties, nor should she sing them in public. Now, try to behave, sweetheart, we are almost home.”

“Yes, Mama,” Emma answered quietly, as Ruth turned to follow Captain Cassidy. She didn’t understand why her mother was so adamant she stop being interested in pirates. She knew, objectively, that they were dangerous outlaws. But they also lived a life full of adventure, sailing the Seven Seas and going where they wanted. What was not to like about that way of life? She had read every book on pirates she could find in the castle’s library, dreaming between her lessons of boarding enemy ships, taking their cargo and sailing towards the horizon with her crew, or battling legendary creatures to seize their treasures.

Emma had loved traveling on the Pride, feeling the wind and the sun on her skin and getting used to the gentle sway of the deck below her feet. Briggs, the ship’s quartermaster, had even taught her a few things, such as the difference between port and starboard and what the different parts of a ship were called. The princess had even learned how to knot what was called a “bowline” this very morning. The young girl also knew that the ship she was sailing on was called a ship of the line, and that it was the flagship of her father’s Navy.

Emma pondered all of this as she silently resumed her place at the railing, fiddling with the cord she had been practicing with all day and looking down at the mist hanging over the ocean, which looked black in the dim light. The monotony of the sight, however, was soon broken when an object came floating out of the fog. Emma squinted, trying to discern what it could be. She was surprised to find it was an umbrella, floating on its back. She looked at it, smiling slightly as it passed her, wondering how such an ordinary object had found its way here. Had it fallen off a passenger ship, a sudden gust of wind having ripped it off a lady’s hand? Or had it come all the way from the land? They were not far from Misthaven, after all…

Movement in the periphery of her vision made her turn her head, as another object floated towards her. A wicker basket bobbed on the waves not far from the ship, and came to within a few yards of where Emma stood, allowing her to see the basket was not empty, that some sort of fabric filled it. Her smile faded, as she wondered at the probability of two objects floating near the Pride, when there hadn’t been anything for days.

The young princess frowned suddenly, as she thought she heard a faint sound coming from the sea. Listening carefully, she leant over the railing, and heard it again, clearer this time. It sounded like an infant crying. Where was it coming from? Emma heard it a third time, and saw at the same time the fabric inside the basket move, as it began to sway harder on the waves. Her eyes widening in horror, she turned frantically as she shouted at the sailors surrounding her, “Help! There’s a baby in the water!”

At first, the men looked at her curiously, sure they had misheard. But once she repeated herself, yelling even louder, Manley, who hadn’t wandered far from her, hurried to the railing, and looked at where Emma was pointing. Thankfully, the baby cried again at that exact moment, and, with no hesitation, he started removing his jacket while calling out “Man overboard!... Well, a miniature one!” before diving off the side of the ship. The deck erupted into chaos as men burst into action, running towards where he had jumped, some readying ropes to haul them back on deck. Emma clutched the railing, leaning over to see better. Manley swam to the basket, clutching it to his chest after he had checked what was inside. Swimming one handedly back to the ship, he grabbed one of the ropes that had been thrown to him, and tied the basket by its handles. As men started to carefully haul the basket on board, making sure not to jostle it and drop its precious cargo, Manley gripped the other rope and began to climb the side of the ship, keeping level with his charge.

When she saw they both were about to reach the deck, she tried to get closer, but the men were so tightly packed around the sailors lifting it that she could not even get a glimpse of the basket. Her mother and Cassidy’s arrival granted her an opportunity to get closer, as the crew parted to let their captain and their Queen approach, but before she could follow them, she heard a nearby sailor swear profusely under his breath. Following his gaze, she saw the burning remains of a large ship emerging from the fog, the flames rising from its broken hull coloring the surrounding mist in red at it slowly sunk under the waves. Black smoke mixed with white mist, creating a crimson halo around the wreck that seemed to have a life of its own. A change in the wind brought the smell of burning wood to Emma’s nose. The smell also attracted the attention of the group surrounding the basket, and activity once again erupted on the deck.

Emma’s mother walked quickly towards her, and guided her with a hand on her back towards the basket, which she could now see clearly. “Emma, the baby’s in your charge, take it to the Captain’s cabin. I will join you in a few minutes.” Her mother looked quickly behind her, eyeing the gathered group of muttering sailors, before forcing a smile on her face. “Take care of him, sweetheart.” She gestured urgently to a cabin boy, holding a short conversation with him, before allowing him to lift the basket. In a louder voice, she finished giving her instructions to Emma, turning her towards the rear of the ship and giving her a small push to propel her forward, “Make sure the baby is warm and dry, and stay with it.”

Emma followed the cabin boy, opening the door for him and watching him put the basket down on a bench before leaving the room. She closed the door behind him, turning to approach the now silent basket. She peeked over the edge, where two curious brown eyes were gazing at her. The fabric she had spotted while on deck was a woollen blanket, embroidered with little swans on its edges. There appeared to be nothing else in the basket, which was slowly dripping on the bench.

Remembering her mother’s instructions, she carefully slipped her hands between the wickerwork and the blanket, feeling for any wetness. When she found none, she lifted the baby gingerly, making sure to support its head like she had seen midwives do at the castle. Once the baby was secured in her arms, she moved the blanket away from its face. “Don’t worry, you’re safe now,” she said in a soothing voice. A little fist was clutching a corner or the blanket, and Emma gently pried it away, seeing that a word was embroidered there. “Henry”, she read aloud, looking down into the little face. “Hello Henry, my name is Emma, and you’re on the Pride of Amphitrite, the best ship on the Seven Seas. You’re safe now.” She lightly bounced him as she walked around the cabin, stopping in front of a window. As she raised her eyes, she saw something glinting in the light. Tugging, she saw it was a golden chain with a heavy pendant at its end. She gasped when she saw the grinning skull engraved in the center. Looking back at Henry, she whispered “You’re a pirate!” She stared in wonder at the necklace. How did a baby end up on a pirate ship? Was he the son of one of the crew? Her wonder turned to worry as she remembered the Captain’s words. Surely he would not harm a baby?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the door handle turning. Not thinking, Emma shoved the necklace down the bodice of her dress, hoping the thick cotton would hide the strange bump in the middle of her flat chest, before turning and plastering an innocent smile on her face. Her mother stepped through the threshold, blocking the view of the deck. “How’s the baby?”

“He’s fine, Mom.”, Emma answered hurriedly.

“He? Is it a boy then?”

“Yes, his name is Henry, it’s embroidered on his blanket. Here, look.”

The Queen approached and leaned over Emma and the baby. “You’re right, and what a beautiful blanket it is,” she said, fingering the fabric. “Hello, little Henry, it looks like you were the only one lucky enough to survive.”

Emma looked at her mother, digesting her words. No one had survived the shipwreck? A shiver went down her spine. “What happened, Mom? Why did the ship explode?”

Raising her eyes from where she was stroking Henry’s face with her finger, Ruth looked at her gravely, pondering her words. “It seems the ship’s powder reserves exploded. We don’t know why yet.”

Emma looked intently at her mother. The princess had always been able to detect when someone was lying, and while her mother was not telling Emma an outright lie, the queen was not being entirely truthful. What was her mother hiding? Emma could see however she would not be able to get a straight answer from the woman if she pressed the issue now, and decided to drop the subject for the moment. Looking down at Henry, she wondered aloud, “Then what is going to happen to him? If he has no family, who is going to take care of him? Don’t we have a responsibility towards him?”

Ruth looked at her daughter, a fond smile on her lips. “You’re right, darling, we can’t abandon him. You found him; he is our family’s responsibility now. We will take him in at the castle as a royal ward, and we will place him with one of the nurses.” Tucking Emma’s hair behind her shoulder, the Queen continued, as she prepared to leave. “And as his savior, your first mission will be to find your charge a last name. Do you feel up to this task?”

Emma nodded, glad Henry would be taken care of. She would make sure he got everything he needed. The princess had barely known him for an hour, but she already felt an attachment to the little boy she could not explain. Looking down at him, the girl again approached the window, wondering what name to give the infant. Emma had to be careful in her choice - it would follow him his whole life. Henry chose that moment to wave his arms, making the blanket fall away from his torso. As Emma tucked him back in it, she rubbed one of the embroidered swans thoughtfully. Could it be this simple? Looking back into his eyes, the young girl tried it aloud: “Henry Swan,” she said. If the fact that it felt right to call him that had not convinced her, Henry’s shriek of delight would have done the job. Smiling, Emma told him “Welcome to Misthaven, Henry Swan.”

However, her joy was short-lived, as she remembered the medallion hidden in her bodice, which had been slowly slipping down her dress all this time, only being stopped on its descent by Henry’s body being pressed close to her own. Should she tell her mother what she had found out? Would her mother be as benevolent towards Henry if she knew his true heritage? Emma was afraid she would send the little boy to a family outside the castle, where she would not be able to see him. It made her decision easy: she would protect Henry and his secret from her mother and the Captain by hiding the medallion, so they would never know his true heritage, and he wouldn’t be taken from her. All the pirates on that ship were gone, no one would be the wiser. Taking out the medallion, she raised it in the light, looking at the symbols engraved on it. Before she could try to decipher them, or at least understand in what language they were, movement outside the window caught her eye, and she looked up.

She gasped, clutching Henry to her. The mist had parted for a moment, and Emma could see a dark shape sailing away from the Pride. It was a ship, or at least it looked like the ghostly remains of a ship. Its black sails were ripped in several places, and a large hole on the starboard side of its hull gaped just above the water line. Its skeletal appearance should have made it impossible for the specter to float, even less sail as fast as it did, but it swiftly cut through the water as if pulled by the god of the seas himself. It looked as if it were out of this world, and a shiver went down Emma’s spine. The last thing she saw before the fog swallowed the vision was its flag, a white grinning skull on a black background. Pirates! Emma thought wildly, pressing herself to the window, making sure not to crush Henry. But the ship had already disappeared, as if it had never existed.

Chapter 1

#snidget writes #cssns #cs ff #captain swan

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torn-and-frayed · 6 years

Text

A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes - Tragedy Strikes

Word Count: 3148

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Some angst

A/N: Unbeta’d. All mistakes are mine. This part was written for 3 different challenges:

Ana’s PJO Challenge: Quote in bold in the fic (modified a bit)

Karina’s Season’s of Love Challenge Prompt: Frostbite

and Taylor’s Favorite Seasons Gif Challenge

Feedback and Constructive Criticism Always Appreciated

Series Masterlist

“Jensen, you look like absolute crap. You shouldn’t be filming today.” You pressed your lips to his forehead, despite his grumbling. “And you’re really warm. I think you have a fever.” Jensen had been sick for days and getting progressively worse, but he refused to slow down for even just a day to rest. He was driving you crazy.

“Can’t.” He murmured, sounding even more congested than just hours ago when you went to sleep. “If I don’t film it slows production down and throws everything off.” He wasn’t really wrong. This episode was very heavy on your character and Dean. You’d both had to travel over an hour every day to a place north of Vancouver to shoot on location in the snow.

“Then at least drink some coffee and take some medicine.” You sighed, grabbing a bottle of medicine off the shelf. “What’ll it be? Pumpkin spice or peppermint mocha, fancypants?”

“Shut up.” He glared at you, a small smile on his lips and you couldn’t help but break into laughter. “Whatever you’re drinkin’ I guess.”

“So, peppermint.” You pursed your lips and nodded, moving to make him a travel cup. “I’m really glad you’re embracing your inner fancy coffee snob, you know? It’s really endearing. I still really wish you’d stay home today. We could just do my coverage or something. We could figure it out.” You moved to rest your hand on his face and he really was way too warm and pale.

“I’m OK. I Promise.” Jensen smiled although it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Come on, Clif is probably already waiting outside with Jared and Misha.” You made sure you had everything, including enough medicine for Jensen in your bag before you left with a heavy sigh, knowing full well he was just making himself worse.

The ride to the location shoot was long enough that it gave Jensen time to rest and he fell asleep with his head on your shoulder about 5 minutes away from your apartment while you kept running your fingers through his hair. Jared and Misha could tell he was sick enough they didn’t even try to fuck with him. “We could’ve figured something out and he could’ve stayed home today.” Jared spoke low from the front seat. “You’re both gonna be out in the snow all day. He’s just gonna get worse.”

“That’s what I said this morning. He’s a jackass he doesn’t listen.” You sighed. “I’m gonna have the doctor take a look at him on set when we get some down time.” You didn’t miss the small smirk and shake of his head from Jared. “What?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “Just you, acting like so wifely already.” You shoved your hand over Jensen’s ear, hoping he hadn’t heard that. His other ear was pressed firmly against your shoulder.

“Dude.” You hissed at Jared. “Shut up. We’re not – I’m not ready for that yet.” Your stuttering gave you away and you could feel both Jared’s and Misha’s eyes on you, knowing you were full of shit. The truth was you were more than ready for Jensen to propose to you, but he hadn’t, so obviously he wasn’t ready, and you didn’t want to rush him. What you didn’t know was Jensen had a ring hidden away, but he was scared to ask you to marry him, afraid that you weren’t ready and he’d chase you away.

“We’re here.” Clif broke up your conversation, parking the SUV in the lot with the rest of the crew’s cars. “Now leave Y/N alone, please.”

“Thanks, Clif.” You smiled indignantly back at Jared then turned your attention to Jensen, shaking him gently. “Jens, hey. We’re here.” When all he did was grumble and rub his face further against your shoulder, you decided on a different tactic. You leaned down, pressing your lips gently against his. His eyes fluttered softly until he realized you were kissing him and he pulled back in protest.

“You’re gonna get sick.” He grumbled and you shrugged your shoulders with a smile.

“Then you can take care of me. We share a bed. I’m gonna get sick anyway.” You pecked his lips again and this time he reciprocated, giving in to your very sound logic. “Come on, sicko. Let’s get this done so we can get you home and medicated and tucked into bed where you belong.”

The two of you slid out of the SUV and made your way in the opposite direction of Jared and Misha to film.

It took several hours of filming in frigid, snowy conditions but you were finally able to get Jensen seen the doctor who said he had walking pneumonia. He still refused to go home, though. He insisted he would tough it out for the rest of the day and then see how he felt tomorrow before making any major decisions. You sighed in defeat, deciding to quit arguing when you��d never win.

You both made your way back to the set, trudging through the snow drifts to get there. “It’s fucking freezing. And now it’s getting dark.” You complained, rubbing your hands together and leaning into Jensen’s feverishly warm body to get warm. “Could they have picked a colder day?” Snow stuck to the pieces of your hair under your beanie and your hood and you tried to shake the flakes away, succeeding only in making them stick to your already frigid face.

“I’m sure they could’ve.” Jensen chuckled. “At least we’re spending most of the night in the car.”

“Jensen, Y/N.” Phil approached and you both looked up, wondering why he was practically running through the snow to you. “There’s a storm rolling in, we wanna try to wrap your scenes before it gets here. We’re gonna have you both drive out ahead of us in the Impala with the camera attached just to get some driving scenes from you two and we’ll follow you out in a few.”

“Got it.” Jensen nodded and laced his gloved fingers with yours, leading you to the Impala and opening your door for you. You practically dove inside to the warmth and shed your winter jacket and gloves, down to your character’s normal clothes. Jensen took his place in the driver’s side and took off driving down the snow covered back roads.

The snow had started to fall a little harder as you drove further away and the car was sliding despite Jensen’s driving skills, making you nervous. The crew was nowhere in sight yet and you were starting to worry that the storm was rushing in faster than anticipated. “Are you OK?” Jensen questioned. “You look like you might throw up.”

“Me? I’m fine. I’m just worried we’re not – “ A scream erupted from your throat before you could finish your sentence, the Impala hit a patch of black ice that sent it spinning across the road. Jensen tried hard to save it, but the entire road was a sheet of ice and there was nothing he could do but let it play out however it was supposed to. The Impala spun into a nearby ditch, the front end crashing hard into a tree.

“Y/N? Hey!” Jensen grabbed you across the seat, checking you for injuries.

“I’m OK.” You nodded, checking him over for the same thing, finding him to be just fine. “Car’s not.” There was smoke coming from the hood; no way was it in any condition to drive back.

“Shit.” Jensen muttered and pulled your jackets, hats, and gloves from the back seat, handing you yours. You shimmied into them and slid across the seat, huddling with Jensen for warmth. It was already starting to get cold inside the Impala, the wind outside had picked up considerably and with no heat inside anymore it was only a matter of time before it started freezing inside. He dug inside his pockets, pulling out his phone. “Fuck. It’s dead. Do you have yours?”

“Yeah, I should.” You shifted away, fumbling through your pockets. Panic started to overtake you when all your pockets came up empty. “Oh no.”

“What?”

“I think I left it back in the doctor’s trailer when we got you checked out.” Tears started to burn in your eyes and Jensen pulled you back against his chest, kissing your temple. “They’ll never find us out here. They might not be coming anymore since the storm picked up. They might’ve called us to tell us to come back and we didn’t get the call.”

“They’re comin’, sweetheart.” Jensen rubbed up and down your arms, creating friction for warmth. “Even if they did cancel the shoot, if they couldn’t get us, they’ll come looking.”

Jensen started to shiver after about 15 minutes, his fever making him feel even colder than he actually was. He was still burning up to the touch. You lasted a bit longer than him before you were utterly freezing, his body heat helping to keep you warm. “We can’t stay in this car.” You said through chattering teeth. “We’ll freeze to death if they don’t find us. Or end up buried in the snow.”

“There was a cabin a little ways back. The one we were gonna film in. You think we can make it there?” Jensen asked.

“I’m more worried about you, Jens.” You sighed. “You’re already sick. I can make it just fine, what about you?”

“Well, it’s that or freeze, right?” Jensen chuckled and you glared at him, not seeing the humor in it at all. “I’m fine, baby, come on. Let’s get whatever we can use outta the car and get going before the storm really amps up.” You wrote a note before getting out of the car, letting whoever found the damaged car know you were both unharmed and where you were going so they knew where to look.

Jensen pulled you out of the car and into the wind and the snow, moving to the trunk. You pulled out the duffel and stuffed a blanket inside along with some working lighters and started on your way, your arm linked with Jensen’s.

The cabin wasn’t far. It was less than a mile down the road, but it felt like a lifetime away. The cold from the wind was burning every bit of exposed skin. You could barely breathe and the snow was piling higher, making it harder and harder to walk. The cold was seeping through your jeans, moist from the snow, and your legs were refusing to move, slowing you both down.

When the cabin finally came in to view, you were practically dragging each other to the door. You couldn’t feel your hands or feet anymore, you probably had frostbite, but you were determined to get Jensen somewhere warm and safe before taking care of yourself.

It took all your combined strength to pull the door open but when you finally did you shoved Jensen inside first and followed behind him, slamming the door shut behind you. The cabin was tiny, consisting of only a small kitchen with a table and a few chairs, a bed, a couch, and a fireplace. The bathroom was in a room off to the side, but other than that, you’d seen the whole place as soon as you opened the door.

Jensen went straight for the lights, flipping the switch several times to no avail. “Power’s out.” He sighed in defeat. “At least it has a fireplace.” He looked absolutely exhausted and so much paler than before.

“I got it. Get your wet clothes off.” Jensen glared at you like you were absolutely insane. “I know you think I’m crazy but if you don’t get those wet clothes off you’re gonna get frostbite or hypothermia.” You moved to the fireplace and started stacking wood and paper in it. You were freezing and you hands were fumbling everything, dropping them in the fireplace more than organized stacking. Your gloves were soaked and your jeans were soaked, but you needed to start the fire and get Jensen warm before you could think about yourself.

You finally ripped off your gloves, the skin on your hands an angry red, and tried to light the lighter. You couldn’t get a grip on it, fumbling with it and dropping it on the floor several times before Jensen appeared behind you. “I got it.” Jensen murmured in your ear, gently taking the lighter from your hands. “Get those wet clothes off before you freeze to death. You were right. It’s the fever, I’m not thinking clear or I would’ve known to do that on my own.”’

You quickly stripped down to the layer of clothes that wasn’t soaked through, leaving you in just a flannel shirt, t-shirt, and underwear. Jensen hadn’t fared much better when you really looked at him. He was still wearing his flannel and his t-shirt, along with his boxers. You made quick work of checking the small kitchen in the cabin for supplies, finding it barren. You slammed one of the cabinet doors shut in frustration, catching Jensen’s attention. “I’m sorry.” You huffed. “I just thought there’d be food or something.”

“Hopefully we won’t be here long enough to need it.” Jensen was always so hopeful. You weren’t sure if he did that for his own benefit, yours, both, or if he was truly that optimistic. “Come get warm.” You hadn’t even noticed Jensen had managed to get the fire going. It was small but the warmth was spreading through the tiny room. You quickly grabbed his and your balled up clothes and laid them out by the fire and moved to the bed, crawling in with him.

“Here, get close.” Jensen said and pulled you in. “Body heat is good.” Any excuse to snuggle with him, you’d gladly take, and you snuggled as close as you could get, tangling your arms and legs together and pressing your chest to his. You pulled the blankets up and he snuggled even closer, the fever and the cold making him shiver.

“How do you feel? Be honest.” You said, looking him in his gorgeous green eyes.

“Like shit.” He let out a cough and laid his head on the pillow right in front of you, seeing the concern in your eyes. “I’ve been worse. I promise.” He took your free hand in his under the covers and you hissed in pain at the simple touch. “Oh, baby, I think it’s frostbitten.” He let go, releasing the pressure and gently laid it against his burning skin for warmth instead. You moved your other hand to rest against his back, sliding it under the t-shirt and sighed in pleasure at how nice it felt.

Both of you laid there in silence after that, listening to the howling wind and the crackle of the fire. You could see the snow building up outside the window. It was so high it was halfway up the window now. No way were you getting out of here without someone to plow you out.

Your eyelids started to flutter despite yourself. Your hope was Jensen didn’t catch it, but of course he did. “You’re tired.” He said. “I’ll take first watch. They should be here soon. Sleep. I’ll wake you up when they get here.”

“Jensen, no. It’s ok.” You tried to protest but all he did was pull you in closer and cradle you to his body. His fever was higher, that much was clear from just how warm he was. Part of you knew sleeping was a bad idea right now, but your brain was cloudy and confused. Maybe if you’d given it more thought you wouldn’t have given in so easily, or maybe your body wasn’t giving you a choice. You didn’t want to sleep, but your body betrayed you. Your eyelids turned to lead. “Hey, wake me for second watch. Don’t be a hero.”

He gave you that smirk you’d come to love. “Who, me?” He kissed you, his lips parched and feverishly warm. “Sleep.” You fell asleep in seconds wrapped in his embrace like this.

Jensen waited, rubbing your back, watching out the window for any sign of someone coming to rescue you. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes turned to hours, until he couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore and he drifted off, his face buried in your hair. Neither of you heard the crackle of the fire die and the howling of the winds pick up. Neither of you felt the temperatures dip down even colder than they had been before. Neither of you noticed when help finally arrived.

“They’re here!” Jared yelled from the door and ran inside, shaking you both. “Hey, Y/N/N, Jackles! Wake up!” When he got no response from either of you he started with you, turning you gently to your back. Your skin was absolutely freezing to the touch and your lips were a shade of blue he’d only seen in movies, but you were still breathing, ragged and shallow. Jensen’s breathing could be heard, the congestion rattling in his chest, but also shallow and terrifying. “Get the fucking medics in here! Now!”

It took too long for anyone’s liking to get you both out of the woods and to a hospital where real rewarming could start. Jared tried hard to get you both in the same room so he and Misha weren’t running between rooms contacting your families, but the hospital had been adamantly against that. They traded off periodically, one taking your room and the other taking Jensen’s. Misha sat in your room tonight while Jared took Jensen’s, texting each other progress notes back in forth. So far, there hadn’t been any. Neither of you showed any signs of waking up anytime soon, no signs of life at all other than the fact that you were both there, right in front of them. All they could do was wait.

“This is amazing.” You leaned back into Jensen’s chest in the huge cabin on the mountain he’d brought you to for the much anticipated week off, clutching your peppermint hot chocolate in your hand and watching the snow fall lightly out the window. “You’re amazing. You think of everything.” The fire was roaring, everything was quiet and peaceful, just you and Jensen, just like you wanted.

“I’m really glad you love it.” Jensen leaned down and kissed your neck, making you shiver.

“I love any time I get to spend with you alone.” You leaned your head back, capturing his lips with yours. The light of the fire caught your wedding ring when you shifted and you stared at it, moving your fingers against the light. “I can’t believe we finally got married. I thought we never would. I love you, Mr. Ackles.”

“I love you too, Mrs. Ackles.” Jensen chuckled, lacing his fingers with your free hand and pulling you back in for another tender kiss.

Part 3 Coming Spring 2018

Jensen Tags: @a-girl-who-loves-disney @adaliamalfoy @aiaranradnay @akshi8278 @apeshit7x @ariannnawinchester @arryn-nyxx @aubreystilinski @autopistaaningunaparte @babydanixox @bakabozza @beacon-hills-chance-harbor @betterlattethennever @blacktithe7 @bloodysideofhell @boredoutofmymindstuff @born-to-be-his-baby88 @bringmesomepie56 @capsofwinchesters @captainradicalpassion @charliebradbury1104 @chickenmcsade @clarewinchester @d-s-winchester @dancingalone21 @deanswhiskeyveins @deanwinchesterisamazing @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @docharleythegeekqueen @dragontearsandunicornfears @dreamsfromthebunker @duckieburns @duherica @ellen-reincarnated1967 @emohermione @emoryhemsworth @escabell @evansrogerskitten @evilskank-inthemegacoven @fangirlingfanatic2442 @feelmyroarrrr @gabavaldman @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @growningupgeek @impala-dreamer @impalaimagining @itseverythingilike @iwantthedean @iwriteshortstuff @jalove-wecallhimdean @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @jayankles @jensen-gal @jensen-jarpad @jojo-nz @jotink78 @kalliravenne @kgbrenner @kittenofdoomage @kittycat-cas @lenaabs @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @mayasmedberg @meeshw777 @mogaruke @my-supernatural-dreams @nichelle-my-belle @not-moose-one-shots @nothingeverdies @notmoose45 @outerxorbit @percussiongirl2017 @percywinchester27 @riakie @riversong-sam @rlawson418 @ruprecht0420 @sammysflannels @sandlee44 @silver-and-green @sis-tafics @skybinx-blog @smoothdogsgirl @soobi89 @spn-fan-girl-173 @spontaneousam @starswirlblitz @stilinski15 @summoningsupernatural @supernatural-girl97 @supernatural-jackles @supernatural0826 @taste-of-dean @tattooedluci @teepartyy @the-angels-stole-the-tardis @thelastxgoodthing @thereisnolumos @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @wayward-marvel-sommer1196 @waywardjoy @whit85-blog @winchestdiaries @winchester-writes @winchesterprincessbride @winchesters-favorite-girl @yellowtheremarvelfan @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou

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