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bloody-bee-tea · 5 months

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24 Days of Satosugu 2023 Day 8 - Ghost town

This story was inspired by this wonderful art on Twitter!

Satoru gets up from the couch with an ease Suguru envies him for. Hates him for it, a little bit, too.

“I should get going,” Satoru says, stretching his arms over his head and with a smile on his face, as if it means nothing to him, as if leaving Suguru is the easiest thing he has ever done.

Suguru pushes those thoughts away.

“Yeah, you probably should,” he agrees, because it is getting dark out and Suguru doesn’t like it if Satoru is out too late in the night.

Satoru gives him a bright grin and a thumbs up, which is really stupid, and Suguru lets him know just what he thinks about it by exaggeratedly rolling his eyes.

“Always nice to hear how eager you are to see me leave,” Satoru calls out over his shoulder, as he walks to the front door to get his shoes.

Suguru watches his every step, his eyes glued to Satoru’s back and he doesn’t know what to do with this hollow feeling in his chest. It’s always like that, whenever he has to watch Satoru walk away from him, there’s this ache and Suguru has to clench his hands into the blanket on top of him, so he doesn’t reach out and pull Satoru back.

“I’m eager to know you get home before it’s fully dark, so I don’t have to worry,” Suguru shoots back, because even the thought that Satoru could believe that seeing him leave means nothing to Suguru stings.

He wants to add something, wants to tell Satoru that it would be easier if he just slept here for once but Suguru bites his tongue. The one time he suggested that Satoru made it more than clear that that wasn’t an option and ever since then Suguru has wondered just when he fucked this all up.

It’s clear to him that Satoru knows Suguru feels more than friendship for him and the sleeping over part was clearly a hard line being drawn. Suguru has never mentioned it since then and he’s not going to.

Satoru made his own feelings on that matter very clear, after all. Suguru is probably lucky that Satoru still wants to come over at all.

“Some trust would be nice, Suguru,” Satoru calls back to him. “I can take care of myself.”

“I’ll believe that when you can win against me,” Suguru gives back, finally getting up and joining Satoru at the door.

They have taken to going to the gym together at least twice a week and while Satoru is definitely better in the cardio department–has to be really, with those legs of his–he can never beat Suguru in weights or in a spar.

“Well, I’ll just outrun them, how about that?” Satoru says with a bright grin and Suguru sighs.

He can’t even say anything to that because Satoru can outrun just about every other average person, and really. Suguru is overthinking this entire thing anyway.

They are in the middle of the city and it takes Satoru ten minutes to get home. The probability that something is going to happen to him is incredibly slim.

“Sounds good,” Suguru gives back with a small, forced smile and Satoru grows serious again.

“Suguru, I’ll be fine. I’ll text you when I’m home, alright?” he asks and Suguru is quick to nod, the worry still lodged deep in his chest.

“Do that.”

“Alright, I’m off then,” Satoru says with one last wink and he’s out of the door before Suguru can really process it.

The image of Satoru leaving, his back to Suguru, stays with him for a while longer though and Suguru is rooted to the spot until his phone chimes.

It’s probably Satoru telling him he made it home safe, but it’s still in the living-room, so Suguru finally turns around and goes to check it.

He pointedly ignores the way his apartment feels without Satoru in it; refuses to acknowledge that as soon as Satoru leaves his home–his life–turns into a ghost town, bereft of all happiness, because Satoru took it all with him.

It’s overly dramatic and downright stupid and Suguru would rather die than admit that to Satoru, anyway but he can’t help it.

Sometimes it feels as if Suguru’s life has only really begun when Satoru stepped into it and whenever he leaves it feels as if he takes all the colour with him, too.

Suguru shakes his head, tries to get rid of these foolish thoughts, but still his life feels a little bit more colourful when he spots Satoru’s name on his phone.

Made it home safe, mom the message reads and Suguru snorts softly.

Thanks for letting me know Suguru writes back, completely serious and instantly his phone is flooded with emojis.

They keep it up like that for the rest of the evening, shooting messages back and forth and like this, Suguru’s empty life almost feels full again.

~*~*~

“Let’s meet at my place tomorrow,” Satoru says, his head pillowed in Suguru’s lap and barely following along with what is happening on screen.

Suguru is not going to call him out on it though, because he enjoys being like this, enjoys being able to card his fingers through Satoru’s hair.

Sometimes, he wonders; Satoru is not shy with his touch, or how clingy he is with Suguru, even after he shot the overnight stay down. It’s confusing to say the least, because clearly Satoru does not feel the same for Suguru and yet–and yet he clings to Suguru as if he’d die if they get parted.

Suguru doesn’t understand. He is not going to complain, though, because he fears that Satoru could pull away completely should he ever mention it.

“What brought this on?” Suguru finally asks in reply to Satoru’s earlier statement, scratching at his scalp and making Satoru close his eyes in bliss.

Suguru’s chest feels so full, it’s almost as if he’s going to choke on his feelings.

“We’re always at your place. Doesn’t it get annoying?” Satoru wants to know, turning just enough so he’s able to look up at Suguru.

“No,” Suguru simply says because how could it be? How could having Satoru in his space, in his home, ever be annoying?

“I don’t believe you,” Satoru gives back and squints up at Suguru as if he could read the truth right from his face.

“But it’s the truth,” Suguru simply says, mourning the loss when Satoru sits up, turning around to better face Suguru.

“Suguru, come to my place for once,” Satoru says, more serious this time and something in Suguru’s chest clenches painfully.

He almost flinches and he’s glad he doesn’t, because Satoru would never let it go, should he notice.

Suguru opens his mouth, to agree or disagree, he’s not even sure in that moment but no words come out.

He imagines it, for once, going to Satoru’s place; he has never been there and apart from the glimpses he got when they video called he has no clue what Satoru’s apartment looks like. It would be nice, to finally have a frame to put Satoru in to when he thinks about him being at home, but that’s not the thing that trips Suguru up.

The thing that makes it impossible for him to agree to go to Satoru’s place for once is the fact that he’ll have to leave again. He’ll have to put his back to Satoru and then he’ll have to walk out on him.

Suguru feels like crying just thinking about it.

Satoru leaving is already a hard thing to swallow, despite the fact that Satoru does it almost every day when he goes back home, but Suguru leaving Satoru? That thought is unfathomable to him. It almost makes his skin crawl with panic and Satoru must read some of that off his face because he frowns when Suguru shakes his head.

“No. No, let’s just–this is good, right? You coming here? Why change a working system?” Suguru tries but it only makes Satoru frown harder at him.

“What’s wrong? Do you think I live in some kind of dump? Is that it?”

“No, Satoru, of course not!” Suguru is quick to rush out though he’s not actually sure how he’s supposed to placate Satoru now.

It’s not as if he can explain the panic that grips him when he just thinks about leaving Satoru.

“Then come over tomorrow.” Satoru is merciless in his insistence and Suguru helplessly shakes his head again.

“I’d really rather not,” he weakly says, and hates himself a little bit for it when Satoru’s face falls.

“I see,” he whispers out as if Suguru’s refusal just made something clear and Suguru has not even the faintest idea of what it could be, but he just knows that Satoru is wrong, whatever conclusion he just drew.

“It’s not–whatever it is you’re thinking,” he says, and reaches out to take Satoru’s hand in his, gently stroking his thumb over the back of his hand.

“You have no idea what I’m thinking so how can you even say that?” Satoru wants to know and Suguru presses his lips together before he lets out a soft sigh.

“I just–I just never know what’s too much with you,” he finally admits and gives Satoru a small albeit sad smile. “What if this is finally the thing that makes it all too much?” he asks, even though it feels as if his heart is right there on his tongue.

He wonders if Satoru would cradle it gently or if he’d throw it away, should Suguru spit it out right now.

“Nothing with you is ever too much,” Satoru immediately denies and even though Suguru doesn’t quite trust to believe those words, something in his chest goes warm at hearing it.

“That’s not even true, and we both know it,” he still can’t help to say, because he still very vividly remembers the rejection when Satoru was so fast to tell him no after Suguru suggested he stay over, just for the night.

“Let’s just forget about it, alright?” Suguru asks, taking his hand back when Satoru bites at his lower lip.

He seems distressed and Suguru feels vaguely horrible for making him feel that way in the first place.

“Suguru, that wasn’t–” Satoru starts but Suguru can’t bear to hear him finish that sentence.

He doesn’t want to know what it was.

“It’s fine, Satoru, it’s fine. Just–come back here, and let’s enjoy the–” he quickly looks at the screen to check what it even was they are watching, “show, okay?” he then finishes weakly and tugs on Satoru’s sleeve to get him to lay back down again.

Satoru is clearly reluctant, though in the end he does what Suguru asked of him.

Satoru’s head doesn’t feel quite as comfortable in his lap anymore, but Suguru is going to take whatever Satoru is willing to give him, as long as it means he’ll never have to be the first one to leave.

~*~*~

“Why are we meeting here?” Suguru asks as he slides into the opposite booth of Satoru, briefly looking around the café.

“I didn’t want to come to your place,” Satoru immediately says and Suguru feels as if someone pulled the rug out from under him.

When he blinks, all he can see is Satoru leaving.

“I see,” he gets out past the lump in his throat and he can already feel his life crumbling around him.

He doesn’t even want to think about the giant hole Satoru is going to leave in his life. And yet, a tiny part of him is relieved that it isn’t him who is leaving first.

“Suguru, no,” Satoru softly whispers and reaches out for Suguru’s hand. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it. It’s not–I’m not saying never again, okay, I just want to understand why you won’t come to my place. And I thought until then I also shouldn’t be coming to yours anymore,” Satoru explains as if that makes anything better.

It doesn’t though because Suguru has no idea how to explain this to him; he knows very well that it’s not rational what he’s thinking.

“Can you explain it to me?” Satoru asks, threading their fingers together and it’s taking all of Suguru’s strength to not cling to him like a lifeline.

“I don’t know how,” Suguru mutters and Satoru gives him an encouraging smile.

“Try. Just, help me understand what’s stopping you.”

“Like you told me what’s stopping you from staying over instead of going home in a blizzard,” Suguru mutters and instantly feels bad when Satoru winces.

“I’m sorry,” Satoru says, but doesn’t actually offer up any kind of explanation.

“Yeah, I bet,” Suguru bitterly says, and looks out the window instead of at their hands. “I just can’t–” he cuts himself off. “Coming to your place would mean leaving again. And the thought of leaving you makes we want to–” Throw up, cry, lash out in anger. Suguru doesn’t know how to say all of that without making Satoru wary of him.

“You wouldn’t be leaving me, though,” Satoru says and slightly tilts his head. “You’d just be going back home. And then the next day, I’d come to you.”

“I know,” Suguru gives back and this is exactly why he never wanted to say anything. He doesn’t know how to make Satoru understand. “But still. The thought of turning my back to you and walking away–it’s not right. It doesn’t feel right.”

“I’m going to be still right there, even if you do, though,” Satoru says, a little frown on his face. “Even if you left for the day, I’d still be there the next morning.”

“But would I?” Suguru whispers and drops his head into his hand. “And would you still want me to be?”

He doesn’t know why he’s asking that, doesn’t even know what it means but it seems impossible to keep the words in.

“Of course, Suguru, I’d always want you to come back to me,” Satoru immediately answers and he says it with such conviction that Suguru has a hard time doubting him. “Let’s just practise it, okay? Let’s leave here, and you go first. You go home, and then in an hour, I’ll come by. How does that sound?”

“Horrible,” Suguru honestly admits because walking away from Satoru like that makes his very essence revolt, even if it’s just an imaginary scenario so far.

“But you’ll see that I’m telling the truth and then it’ll be easier, right?” Satoru wants to know, looking expectantly at Suguru as if he has an answer for him.

“I don’t know.”

Satoru sighs.

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Suguru doesn’t have to think about that, because he does. He does trust Satoru with everything he is, with the exception of maybe his heart.

“Then trust me when I say I’ll be at your apartment in an hour, even if you leave first now.”

Suguru clenches his teeth. He doesn’t want to do this, doesn’t want to have to test Satoru’s honesty, but he also recognises that he doesn’t have another choice.

His behaviour–it’s not normal and that fear of walking away from Satoru isn’t healthy either, he can see that. He doesn’t know how to make it stop though.

“Fine,” he presses out because there is no way Satoru is going to let this go and immediately, Satoru gets up, tugging Suguru out of the booth.

“Come on. Let’s do it right now, so we get to spend the rest of the evening on your couch, okay?”

It’s a tempting offer, if only the condition for it wasn’t so horrible; still, Suguru follows Satoru, because what other choice does he have.

“I’ll just stand here, and you’ll go. Just go home. I’ll follow you,” Satoru says and it sounds honest enough but to Suguru it feels like a lie.

It feels as if he’s going to turn around and then he’s not going to see Satoru for the rest of his life.

It’s unbearable.

“Okay,” he still whispers because there’s nothing else to say in the face of Satoru smiling encouragingly at him and when Satoru waves at him, Suguru returns the gesture before he turns around, away from Satoru.

Almost instantly his heart clenches in his chest, aching something fierce and Suguru can’t help himself, he simply has to look back over his shoulder, back at Satoru who is still watching him walk away.

Except it’s not only his Satoru anymore; there’s the faint image of another Satoru layered over him, one dressed in a black uniform, his face stricken with despair and grief.

Suguru can’t help but to wonder if maybe he left Satoru all alone in a previous life before, if he walked away once and everything he now fears came to pass and the thought is enough to make him turn around fully and run back to Satoru.

He seems surprised, caught off guard, and Suguru is certain that it doesn’t change when he slings his arms around Satoru, pulling him close.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, because he needs Satoru–this one? Or another one?–to know that he is; Suguru thinks he never regretted anything more in this or any previous life than walking away from Satoru. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,” he promises, not even fully knowing what it is he’s promising.

He just needs Satoru to know that this time, he’ll stay.

“Suguru,” Satoru breathes out and Suguru flinches when he hears the tears in Satoru’s voice. “Don’t ever leave me again. Don’t ever walk away from me like that again,” he says, his own hands clutching painfully at Suguru’s shirt.

“I won’t, I’ll never do it again,” Suguru promises once more, because even if he doesn’t fully understand what’s going on, that much he knows.

That was the one and only time in this life that he walked away from Satoru.

Never again.

“Come home with me,” Suguru says into Satoru’s hair. “Come home and don’t leave. Stay, Satoru.”

“You were the one leaving,” Satoru wetly laughs out and Suguru wonders if Satoru saw another Suguru layered over him as well.

“You are the one who doesn’t want to spend the night,” Suguru shoots back, bringing them back to the present and at that, Satoru slightly pulls away, just enough to be able to look Suguru in the face.

“If I do, then I won’t ever leave again. If I do, then that means you’re mine, Suguru. I need you to understand that. I can’t do that and know that you don’t feel the same.”

“You idiot,” Suguru breathes out and kisses the tears still falling down right off his face. “Of course I feel the same. It’s us; you’re my one and only. You should know that.”

Satoru laughs at that, bright and happy, despite the tears still clinging to his lashes, and when he nods, when he agrees and rests their foreheads together, Suguru feels whole.

Satoru brings all the light into his life and Suguru will never leave him again.

#bt writes #jjk #satosugu #geto suguru #gojo satoru #24 days of satosugu 2023 #no curses #hurt/comfort #reincarnation #fluff #getting together #feelings

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lunaekalenda · 3 years

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Can you do a Levixfem reader

Where the reader “dies” In his arms on a expedition and he had to leave the body and turns out you were alive but outside the walls and the next expedition they find you. And when that get back in the walls together they get there freak on if you know what I mean😏. Thanks so much!🥰❤️

okay! i’ll try my best <3 ! i hope you like it! <3 it turned out kinda romantic aaaa

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levi x fem!reader

w: death mentions, fake death (?), slight nsfw in the end (really vanilla it's most centered on the feelings :D). No Regrets war flashbacks, some snk spoilers. mention of blood.

“Y/N” Levi’s tears are falling from his face to your skin. Nobody has seen the captain so broken, crying in the middle of an expedition, hugged to your body. He caresses your skin. “Love, please, wake up...” he asks in a whisper, his voice breaking while he keeps crying. “Please.”

Levi feels Erwin’s hand on his shoulder, calling him. “Levi, we have to go!” Erwin says. Levi can’t take his eyes away from your beautiful face, how your closed eyes are never going to shine with that love they always do. Erwin shakes his shoulder harder. “Come on, Levi!!” he yells. Levi takes your body on his arms, but Erwin stops him. “What the hell are you doing?” Levi hugs you closer, tears falling from his eyes again.

“I’m not gonna leave her behind.” He says, his husky tone serious, as if he wanted to say to Erwin that leave you behind isn’t an option. Because you’re only asleep.

Right?

“She’s dead, Levi. Dead. Leave her. We can’t lose you because you’re carrying a body.” Erwin’s words hit him. Dead... Dead is a word Levi hates. Because it is always followed by the name of someone he loves or cares for. His mom. Isabel. Gunter. Petra. You.

“No. She’s...”

“Leave it, Levi. You don’t want more people to die, don’t you?”

That’s true. He needs to be on his full capacities to defend the trope. He looks around, to a place where he can leave your body, knowing the titans will never take it. He easily founds a tree that has a hollow trunk, with a small slot through which it can slide you inside. He leaves you there, along with a bottle of water, in case you’re still alive. He kisses your forehead. “I’ll come back for you, love. I promise.”

···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ···· ····

You wake up inside a tree hours after. You feel dizzy and your head hurts a lot. There’s a little bottle of water near you, and, needing it, you open it fast, drinking. You can hear a man’s voice inside your head. “Drink slowly, dummy. It will make you feel worst.” You don’t know who does that voice belong to, when it sounds so familiar. You can’t also recognize the place, looking through the slot. You’re dressed in your military clothes, and you still have your swords with you. Your light brown jacket is covered in blood. You start to recover some memories. The expedition. The titan that sent you away with his hand. Levi yelling your name.

Levi. Levi.

All your thoughts were back to him. Is he okay? Why did him leave you on a tree? Did something happen to him and he decided to hide you? Maybe he hide you for a moment and never came back?

You’re feeling anxious just with the thought. It has to be a normal reason. He’s okay for sure, and he will be back as soon as possible.

“No” Erwin’s voice is clear. Levi clicks his tongue again.

“I have to go back for her...”

“Levi, there’s nothing you can do for her now.” Hange says. Even when them wanted to accompany Levi -they were sure they could capture some good titans.- They didn’t want to disobey the Commander. “We wont make another expedition just for a body. I know it hurts, but let it go.”

“Fine. I’ll go by myself.” he says, getting up. “I don’t need anyone to go to the nearest fucking tree and come back.” He leaves the office, slamming the door. Erwin sighs.

“Hange, tell the 104 Special Squad to accompany their captain.”

It was afternoon when Levi was prepared to leave, but he found his squad on the wall’s door.

“What are you all doing here? Go back training, brats.” he says, getting on his horse.

“The Commander told us to accompany you, Captain.” Jean says, adjusting his jacket.

“We’re here to help you, to bring her back inside.” Eren smiles softly. That words make Levi change his opinion. He sighs.

“Be careful and don’t leave my side, right?” They part towards the door, and they leave. The camp is quiet after the extermination of the day before. Connie looks around.

“Do you think we will find her alive?” he asks in a whisper. Levi hears that, but he ignores it. Even when he knows it’s almost impossible to find you alive. They walk silently towards the tree where he left you. He runs quickly, leaving his horse with the squad, as they keep a distance. In part, because they want to pay respect.

Levi’s heart breaks when he sees the empty trunk. There’s nothing inside, even the bottle isn’t there. He made sure to leave you somewhere they couldn’t find, but they did anyway. They found you. They didn’t let him say goodbye to you.

Levi kneels in front of the tree, tears running down his face again. He wants to be strong, but he can’t. He has lost you. The most important person in his life.

You drink again before putting the bottle near the river, taking more water. You stand up with difficulty and walk towards the tree slowly, giving secure steps. You’re feeling dizzy yet, but you needed to drink. You know Levi will came back for you, and that’s why you walk back to your hiding place. You see horses when you’re getting closer. Horses and brown jackets. And, when you’re just a couple steps far from them, you see him, kneeled in front of your tree.

“Levi...” you whisper. He’s alive and he’s there. He came back for you. “Levi.” you say, stronger. Jean and Eren turn around. They see you, covered in blood and pale, but alive. Jean runs towards you and he helps you to walk. “Levi.” That’s the only thing you can say.

Levi is used to listen to his loved ones voices once they had left this world. That’s why hearing you whispering his name isn’t something new for him.

“Captain!” Instead, Eren’s voice sounds clear. “We found her!” the smile can be heard on his voice. Levi wants to kick his ass for joking in a moment like this, but he faces you when he turns around. As beautiful as always, you’re supported by Eren and Jean, and they are making sure you’re not falling. Levi stands up as fast as he can, and he hugs you. You can feel his tears on your shoulder as he feels yours on his. He caresses your hair quietly, hugging your body stronger against his. “You’re here.” he whispers. You nod, sobbing. You have missed him, you have feared for him.

“You’re okay.” you say. He answers you with a kiss on your hair.

“I’m sorry, love. They made me leave you here. I knew it was bad, but I... I.” his sobs doesn’t let him talk. You caress his back, trying to calm him.

“It’s fine.” You whisper. After a couple minutes trying to calm each other, Sasha talks.

“Why don’t we resume this beautiful moment inside the walls? I don’t want to end being wedding catering for a titan.” They all nod. Levi helps you to get on top of his horse, and he sits behind you. There, caged between his arms and feeling his heartbeat against your back, you feel safe again.

“I’m sorry.” he says. The doctor has just left the room, saying that you only injured a little bit your leg and your head is healing well. You’re on Levi’s bed, the one you usually sleep on. He sits near you and kisses your forehead. “I’m sorry for leaving you behind.” he says. He thought that, once you knew he left your body there, you would be mad.

“We’re soldiers, Levi.” you say. “Sadly, we can’t take all the bodies with us. Sometimes we have to sacrifice for the others.” you say. You understand Erwin’s decision and Levi’s pressure. You’re soldiers, after all.

Levi combs a lock of your hair with his fingers, softly. “I was so scared... I couldn’t close an eye during the night. I only could think about you.” he says. You smile softly at him. “I was terrified.” You attract him towards your body, hugging him. “I’m sorry, love, I’m so sorry...” you try to calm him with caresses and sweet kisses in his head. “I feel like you’re an illusion, that you’re just a product of my imagination playing with me.” he says. He takes his head out of your chest. “Maybe I lost you and that’s why you’re here? To comfort me?”

You take his hand, sneaking it into your t-shirt, placing it near your heart. His eyes shot open when he feels your pulse against his palm. “I’m here. And I’m real, Levi. I’m the Y/N you always hug. I’m the same. I’m alive.”

His lips search yours in a kiss. He wants more proofs. He wants to make sure you won't disappear when he blinks. He needs to make sure. His hand is still in your shirt, but he isn't searching more. He needs to know you want the same, that you feel good enough. He feels your hands attracting him closer, pulling by the neck of his shirt. He sighs.

Kisses and mixed breaths. He looks at you when you part for air, his chest rising fast, his hands playing with the end of the t-shirt you're wearing. His eyes looking at yours, asking for permission. You nod quietly, looking at him in the eyes, making sure he understands you want this. His hands take off your shirt, admiring every single scar on your body, every mole and every birthmark. Making sure every one of them is in the same place it was, that your body is still the same he remembers. That they are all your little details he loves to admire.

For your surprise, he leans on and kisses every one of them. Every single thing that makes your skin special. You blush at it, but he doesn't care. He's showing without words how much he adores you, how much he cares for you. The affection and love behind every kiss is overwhelming. Your hands are fast unbuttoning his white shirt. He lets the fabric slide down his shoulders once you're done. Feeling his skin against yours is one of your favorite sensations.

There aren't too many words while he keeps kissing every inch of your body, taking away the fabrics that obstacle him. You can only think of him, of how cold his skin is, how good he feels and how much you've missed him, even for just a day. Because when you didn't know how he was, it felt like whole centuries. He lets out a sigh when he gets under the sheets with you, being careful to not cause you pain, standing on his arms on top of you. He smiles, a true smile when you tangle your fingers with his. His grey eyes have a mix of a lot of feelings: love, apology, desire, happiness... they're like storms. You feel his tender touch on your thighs, guiding them. You follow his movements, obeying him.

"Take advantage because I won't be so obedient next time." you joke. He chuckes quietly, and it warms your heart. He smiles so widely after that... You feel so good just watching him. He takes a hand down, fingers probing down your body, making sure you're ready. He chuckles again when your amused expression changes after a single finger touch.

His name comes out of your mouth like a praise. When he touches you, when he buries in you, when he quietly kisses you. You mind and body has his name tattooed while he sets a pace against you, slow but intense. Levi's low praises make your body search him more desperately. When his pace starts to fail and his hips move without any patron against yours, you let out his name again.

"Say it again." he asks. Hearing your name come that easily from your lips makes it even more real. More intimate. "Please." his voice isn't more than a low whisper now, mixed with sighs. He smiles when you say his name again, pushing against you a last time. He lets his head rest on your chest, your quick heartbeat against his ears. He tries to calm his breath. "I love you. I love you so much." he says. "I'll never leave you behind."

You smile, your fingers running through his hair with tenderness. "I know. I know, Levi." you whisper. His eyes feel heavy after the nervous night he passed yesterday, so he acomodates himself by your side, his bare body near yours. You feel his lips on your shoulder.

"And thanks for always coming back for me, no matter what"

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salazarslytherin · 3 years

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midnight rendezvous (b.w x y/n)

requested: yes! by @weasleyswizardwheezes1 [i love you arms your writing so uh anything w bill weasley. either smut, angst, fluff, etc. is fine, but could it be on the longer side. please and thank you, no pressure btw :)] send in your own request here

summary: where you and bill have a penchant for meeting in the night

part two here

🃛 masterlist

cw/tw: angst, smut AND fluff babes fem!reader, bill's kind of a dick for a part. sexual tension to the MAX doll. age difference (~6-7 years?) reader IS 18! jic anyone was worried. also i imply reader is short-ish? but in my mind bill is like 6’3-6’5 so he’s massive and like most people would be shorter than him

word count: 5.25k (so i heard u say ‘on the longer side’ and interpreted it as ‘i want a short novel’. hope this satisfies u doll, there'll be one or two?? more parts coming!!)

a/n: requested by @weasleyswizardwheezes1 . hope you like it! pls leave a comment, like or reblog to help boost if you did xx

☯︎ join tag list here

Being the best friend of the Weasley twins definitely had its perks. Spending summers at the Burrow, having a second family that was closer to you than your own, friendly banter that came along with the family.

However, there was an unexpected drawback that came with this.

A drawback by the name of Bill Weasley.

⚔︎

Although in the same year as the twins, you were a year older than Fred and George, meaning you had always felt a little more mature than the two pranksters.

Thus, you felt like you noticed things that the two of them never really noticed. Girls having crushes on them, boys being envious of them, the ways rumours would fly around about the three of you.

The main thing, however, that you felt the two of them didn't notice, was the way Bill treated you.

It wasn't that he'd always been like this. The first few years you'd known the man, he was very nice to you – familial and brotherly, much like the rest of the family had been to you.

However, sometime in fifth year, things changed.

⚔︎

You arrived at the Burrow with the twins for Christmas, ready to be welcomed by the family you'd come to call your own, but was left feeling hurt, weirdly hollow.

Every Weasley had welcomed you with open arms, except Bill. Harry, the only other non-Weasley around, was embraced heartily by the curse-breaker, but you were given a sharp nod, and nothing more.

Confused, you shook it off, moving to sit next to George, his arm wrapped around your waist as you snuggled into him. Fred landed on your other side, passing you a mug of hot cocoa as he landed a kiss on the top of your head, arm enveloping your shoulders with a tight squeeze.

Surrounded by the younger Weasleys as you watched Ginny, Ron and Harry play a game of Exploding Snap, you felt an intense gaze on you, looking up to see the four oldest Weasleys sat around the dining table, watching all of you.

You caught Bill's eyes, sending him a familiar smile, but was ignored as the man took a sip of his coffee, turning to look out the window instead.

Your hurt was short-lived as Fred leaned into whisper a soft quip into your ear, letting out a laugh, turning to relay the same quip to George.

The rest of the trip went similarly – every time you attempted to catch Bill's eye, to hold a proper conversation, he'd ignore you, or brush you off, pretending that he had something else to do.

The day all of you left the Burrow to go back to Hogwarts, Bill had even left the group before you could say goodbye to him, and you could only be left wondering, what did you do?

⚔︎

Now that you've graduated, you were relishing in the last summer you could spend in the Burrow as a teenager without the pressure of work hovering over you.

Determined to have the best time you possibly could with your 'family', your days were consumed by pranks with the twins, quidditch with the family, and helping Molly bake.

Yet, you still felt empty; a hole in the warm pit created by familial love, a hole marked with the name 'Bill Weasley'.

The cursebreaker was still actively avoiding you, for no known reason, and you stopped seeking out why a year ago. Instead, you sought to live your life with one less brother, one less family member to love.

Tossing and turning, you found yourself particularly restless one night. Not wanting to wake Fred, who was sleeping soundly in bed next to you, you got up, tiptoeing down to the kitchen to have a nice cool sip of water.

You'd taken to sleeping in the twins' room since the first holiday you were at the Burrow. Molly was against the idea at first of course, but was incapable of stopping the pranksters who managed to sneak you in night after night, insistent on having 'sleepovers' with you.

After the third night, Molly gave up, only giving you three a strict 'no funny business!' warning, before trudging back off to bed.

⚔︎

The dim lamplight from the kitchen illuminated just about enough for you to see your surroundings, having been around the Weasleys' long enough to know which boards to avoid so as to not have them creak and wake the family up.

However, what you hadn't taken into account was a body on the ground, hitting your foot into a blanketed torso, making you elicit a shriek, the unknown body on the ground letting out a muffled groan.

"What the fuck?"

You muttered a quick 'Lumos', pointing your wand at the person under the quilt, only for the fabric to be thrown aside, revealing a tousled Bill Weasley, sleep clouding his narrowed eyes as he massaged his abdominal with one hand, ruffling his hair with the other.

"Oh."

Realising that the man on the floor was, in fact, a Weasley, and not some thief who'd stolen into the house in the middle of the night, you dismissed the charm, lowering your wand and shifting awkwardly on your feet.

"Sorry, I didn't know you were there."

Throwing a curt apology at Bill, you moved off towards the kitchen, grabbing a mug from the cupboard above and wordlessly filling it up, intent on finishing your business as quickly as possible before heading back up to the twins.

"Pour me a cup?"

The deep voice startled you for a moment. At some point Bill had gotten up from his mound of pillows and now found himself stood behind you, his hand holding out a mug that had a 'B' painted on it, gesturing at the water jug you were holding.

Nodding curtly, you poured him his water, Bill thanking you before moving to lean against a counter, watching you from behind the rim of his mug.

"'m surprised you're down here."

Furrowing your brows, you looked up at the man in confusion.

"What'd you mean?"

He shrugged, downing the rest of his water before placing the mug down on the counter with a tad bit more strength than he needed. He stretched for a moment, arms pulled over his head to pull the sleep out of his eyes, shirt moving up with the movement to show off a slither of his toned stomach.

"You're always around the twins, never see you without 'em. Expected you to be, in their beds or something I don't know."

A protest spluttered from your throat, choking slightly on the water that you'd been drinking.

"I–what?"

The man lifted an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side.

"Am I wrong? You've been in and out both their beds since you were firsties. I mean, it's not hard to guess what you're doing in there with 'em."

You huffed at the implications of Bill's words, putting your mug down with much of the same vigour as he had just now.

"First off, I'm an adult, and I can do what I please."

You were fuming, steam practically coming out your ears, and hearing the muttered 'clearly been an adult for a while' from Bill's lips didn't help.

"Second, even if I was sleeping with your brothers, which I am not, I don't understand why it'd be any of your business. It's not like we're friends or anything."

An odd, emotionless laugh came from Bill's lips, pushing off the counter to come stand over you. His tall stature forced you to stumble backwards, pressed against the wooden cabinets as he glared down at you.

"First off," Bill's deep voice was modulated up an octave, mocking your previous rebuttal.

"I am not saying your life is part of my concern. I'm concerned for my brothers."

A hand landed next to your head, pushing against the cabinet harshly.

"But second, you're practically a Weasley. It's my duty to look after you guys."

You laughed indignantly, looking away from the intense man to focus on his arm instead, as if studying the tattoos that covered his tanned frame.

"I'm sorry. It's your duty to look after me?"

You pushed him off of you, moving away with a huff, grabbing the two abandoned mugs to wash them with far too much tenacity, water splashing everywhere.

"Yes, that's what I said. I've known you since you were eleven – of course I have to watch over you. You're like family."

You rolled your eyes, giving up the facade of placidity as you left the mugs clattering in the sink, whipping around to face Bill.

"I'm like family? That's rich, William, truly rich."

Now it was your turn to advance towards the man, causing him to back up as your anger fueled you with energy, stomping dangerously close to his feet.

"If how you treat me is how you treat your family, I pity Molly for having you as a son."

Incoherent words left Bill's mouth in an attempt to argue further with you, but you didn't listen. Turning on your heel, you left the man in the kitchen, no longer concerning yourself with which steps to avoid as you stomped back to the twins' room, leaving Bill accompanied only by the dim light from the lamp, and the creaks coming from the floorboards.

⚔︎

After that infuriating night, it was no longer a 'hidden' fact that something was off between you and Bill.

While it had seemed that Bill used to be the one avidly avoiding you, the tables had quickly turned – you were now the prey ardently avoiding any encounters with your predator.

Any time Bill came into the room, you'd either leave, or place yourself as far away as humanly possible. During meals, you'd move yourself to sit next to Ginny, as opposed to in between the twins as you'd been sat for years, just so you no longer sat across from Bill. Even during quidditch, one of your favourite things to do with the whole family, you opted to sit out and stay in the twins' room or help Molly with the dishes, just to make sure you never had to interact with Bill.

Honestly, you weren't quite certain why the conversation with Bill had ticked you off so much. Maybe it was because he accused you of sleeping with your best friends, as if that was all you were good for. Maybe, it was because he had no right to insert himself in your life like that, to pretend like he cared about you in the first place.

It was clear he no longer wanted to be a part of your life when you were sixteen. You had no desire to welcome the curse-breaker back into your life now.

⚔︎

Three days after the midnight meeting with Bill, you found yourself restless again, unable to sleep.

George shifted slightly as you moved out of his bed, turning to cuddle with your now abandoned pillow as you slipped out of his grasp.

You decided to go for a quick midnight broom ride, hoping that the adrenaline rush and energy that you'd burn while flying would tire you out so you could finally fall asleep. A lot of the time you'd spent avoiding Bill turned into naps, which meant you were increasingly unable to fall asleep at night, disrupting your sleep schedule massively.

Cursing Bill under your breath, you creeped down the stairs, hoping that he wouldn't be down there again. You didn't want to have to deal with the eldest Weasley again.

Thanking your lucky stars, you landed on the final step, noting that the first floor was empty. Hoping that the door wouldn't creak when you opened it, you ran towards the small shed out back, grabbing a random broom from it and got ready to fly.

"Y/N?"

You were already mounted on the broom and ready to kick off as that dreaded baritone resounded from the door.

You should have known you weren't that lucky.

Yelling a quick "Nope!", you kicked off and flew out towards the countryside, only looking behind you to see Bill standing in his sleeping pants, hands gesturing out at you in exasperation.

"Now how's that for some good ol' avoidance?"

⚔︎

Though you'd initially planned on flying only for a little bit, seeing Bill at the door really put a damper on your plans, making you decide to fly to a nearby watering hole the Weasleys used to bring you to.

Illuminated by the moonlight, you descended upon the grassy area, smiling at the way the water rippled in the soft night breeze.

Tranquility was what the scene spelt.

In a moment motivated by something you'd come to dub as 'Weasley Whims', i.e the reason the twins had gotten the three of you in trouble constantly, you decided to strip down to your underwear to take a dip in the cool water, abandoning your clothes and wand on a mossy rock nearby.

Taking a running leap, you threw yourself into the water, feeling, for the first time in three days, free. A laugh rippled the waters as you broke through the surface, swimming back over to the edge, only for the laugh to be stolen away as you noticed a shadowed figure land next to your broom.

Bill Weasley was here to ruin your night, yet again.

You let out a strangled scream of frustration as the man alighted from his broom, feet and torso bared to the moonlight.

Clearly, he, like you, had not bothered to dress properly for the impromptu flight.

"Why are you following me."

Your question held no semblance of curiosity, only frustration as you demanded an answer from the man. His answer did not come, only moving towards the water to kneel in front of it, looking down at you.

"Why are you running away from me?"

Wisps of his ginger hair fell forward, covering bits of his handsome face as the rest was carelessly thrown up into a short ponytail, clearly done to prevent his hair from falling into his face during the flight, a precaution that you'd forgotten to take.

"I could ask you the same. Only, it must be a bit harder to hide from someone when they're already hiding from you in the first place, hmm?"

You turned away from the man, diving back down into the depths of the watering hole to kick yourself over to the other side, wanting to do nothing more than swim away from the ginger, or maybe, have him leave you alone and fly back to the burrow, alone.

But of course, fate never let you have your way.

You turned around only to see the man had sat himself down cross-legged, body illuminated by the moonlight as it highlighted the tattoos decorating his forearm, the several scars that littered his chest a sharp white juxtaposing his tanned skin.

"I never ran away from you."

Your head fell back as you tread the water lightly, looking up instead to admire the stars that embellished the night sky, recalling fondly the astronomy classes you'd taken in the past two years as you focused on constellation after constellation, intent on ignoring the man in front of you, hoping your disregard would drive him away.

"Y/N, I'm talking to you."

The words drew a monotone chuckle from you, your eyes snapping to meet Bill's.

"Well that's a first."

Bill moved to stand up, and your heart jumped for a moment. Maybe he would finally leave you alone.

But yet again, luck never did seem to favour Y/N Y/L/N.

Instead of moving further away as you'd thought he would, Bill moved closer, stepping into the shallow of the watering hole, the water soaking the bottom of his pants.

Your eyes darted at the ripple of his abs with every movement, swallowing as your eyes darted to look anywhere else you could. You were not about to find this man attractive.

You could see him coming towards you in your peripherals, and moved back to face him, his pecs the only part of his torso above the water.

"You haven't spoken to me for almost two years, and now you've just got so much to say to me, huh?

Bill looked down into the water, nibbling on his lip as he looked back into your eyes, almost sheepish as he tried to answer.

"I–"

"You know how much that hurt?"

You swam closer towards him, your feet finding ground as you stood next to him, your shoulders bared to the world as you were no longer submerged.

"You were like family to me for almost five years, and then one day. You just fucking stopped. Stopped talking to me. Stopped joking around with me. For a while, you didn't even look at me!"

Your hands came up out of the water, gesturing wildly as you basically screamed at the man, Bill flinching slightly as the water splashed into his face, looking back down at the water again.

Ashamed.

"D'you know how fucked up that was? I had no clue what happened, why one of the people I considered family, one of my favourite people in the world, just fucking despised me all of a sudden."

Bill looked up at you in surprise at your words.

"And you know the worst fucking part?"

Your voice suddenly fell to a hush, almost a whisper as a tear welled in your eye, prompting you to shut them as your head tilted down, urging your breath to slow down.

"The worst part, the worst part was that I thought it was my fault, that it was something I'd done to drive you away. I blamed myself for ages, didn't know what I said, didn't know why you hated me."

"Didn't know why you'd never like me back."

The last part was said in a true whisper, barely audible despite the silent night.

Yet Bill still heard it, and his breath hitched in his throat, eyes searching your face as a tear escaped you, rolling down your cheek.

Unable to restrain himself, Bill's hand darted forward out, cooled by the waters you two found yourself in, a blatant contrast to the warm tear as the pad of his thumb wiped it away.

You flinched away from Bill, feeling vulnerable for the first time that night, coming to the sudden realisation that you were clad only in your underwear, your unintended confession drawing heat to your cheeks as you moved away from the man.

"I, I was afraid."

Bill's own confession halted your movements, making you turn back around to look up at him, confused.

"I–, how do I say this. I was ashamed of myself."

It was now Bill's turn to feel vulnerable, his unease making him shift in the water, the water rippling around the two of you at his movements.

"That winter when you came back here, when you turned sixteen, I started seeing you as more than family. I– I found you attractive, and I felt disgusted with myself."

You huffed, disbelieving of the words you were hearing.

"I'm being serious Y/N. You just, grew up over those few months, and just came back different, somehow. I felt like a predator, I was twenty-three! You were still a kid, and I, I just didn't know what to do anymore."

"I wasn't a kid!"

"Of course you were! You were still in school, I'd been working for five years, I couldn't live with myself feeling like that. I didn't know what to do, so I just, distanced myself. Hoped that the feelings would go away eventually, then I'd just, go back to being normal."

Your eyes scanned the ginger's face, searching for a speck of a lie, a pinch of deception but only found uncertainty, attraction and lust dusting the man's face.

"But you never stopped..."

Your breath stopped for a moment as your eyes met.

"Are you being serious?"

His breath fanned your face as both of you instinctively moved closer towards each other, more of your body exposed to the world as you came further out of the water.

"As serious as I could be Y/N."

Your breath was taken away as Bill leaned in, ghosting his lips over yours, strands of ginger hair falling to tickle your face.

"Can I kiss you?"

A breathless whisper fell from Bill's lips, prompting you to nod in assent, the man falling to capture your lips before you even finished the move.

Sparks flew in that moment, the man's lips gliding over yours as he stole your breath away. You pulled apart after a second, before your lips fell back together again, insatiable in your desire to taste each other.

Bill's tongue teased you, mouth falling open for his teeth to graze at your lower lip, making you gasp such that your lips fell open in the same way, his hand moving to cup your jaw. Taking advantage of your momentary shock, the ginger slipped his tongue into your mouth, exploring every nook and cranny of you as you moaned into his lips, pressing your chest against his.

The water waded around you as Bill's left hand moved down your body, fitting snugly under your ass as he muttered a soft 'jump', which you obliged.

Your legs wrapped around the man's hips, Bill walking the two of you onto the soft grass, muttering a charm against your lips before placing you down.

Instead of feeling prickly blades of grass on your skin, a soft blanket had appeared, making you smile, pulling away from the man.

"Quite the romantic, Mr Weasley. Know how to treat a girl right don't you?"

A deep chuckle sounded from the man who hovered above you on his hands and knees, biting his lower lip at the sight of you.

"Only the best for my girl."

Your heart leapt at Bill’s words; were you his now?

Not wanting to dwell on it, to overthink this moment of passion, you pulled his lips back down onto yours.

His girl.

⚔︎

The moon hung high in the night sky as both your hands explored each other, frantic, as if it was your last day on Earth and you only had here and now to envelop yourselves in each other.

The pure animalistic need that pulsed through the two of you allowed no time for foreplay, fingers hooking into the soaking fabrics that clung to both of you.

“Can I?”

Bill fingered the waistband of your underwear, thumb brushing your hip bone with motions feather light, wildly disparate from the way his lips devoured yours hungrily.

One act designed to ruin you, the other almost afraid he’d break you.

“Yes, I need you.”

You deigned to show him just how much by hooking your own fingers into his waistband, soaked pajama pants pulled away to reveal his boxers, clinging to his muscular frame.

Bill responded by undressing you with much of the same vigour, moving to pull your underwear down to your ankles, his pants in very much the same state, gazing down at your soaked private with lust clouding his vision.

“Next time,” he breathed out onto your glistening lips, “I’ll make you cum with just my tongue.”

Your breath hitched at his words, no, his promise, of a next time as Bill made his way back up your body, peppering kisses on your exposed skin, his hard-on grinding against your leg as he moved up.

The cursebreaker’s deft hands unhooked your bra expertly, sucking in a breath as your pert nipples were revealed to him.

“Beautiful.” He mumbled, almost as if he was speaking to himself.

Bill moved to unclothe himself fully, before you stopped his movements, his hands already pulling at the waistband around his hips.

“May, may I?”

He nodded as you sat up, eyes glazed as he studied your body, memorising the way your breasts glistened in the moonlight. He would make it his mission to mark them, to show anyone who came near you that you were no one’s, but his.

You hooked your fingers into his boxers, pulling them down to his thighs at an almost agonising pace as every part of Bill was unveiled to you, standing proudly in the light.

“Are you... a virgin?”

The man above you asked as it dawned upon him. He was really about to have the girl he’d been craving for.

“No, I’m not.”

His jaw clenched at your admission, the thought of someone else’s hands on you ticking him off, before pushing it away.

It didn’t matter. You were with him now.

He nodded, coming back down to kiss you as one hand braced him by your head, the other reaching down to pump himself slowly.

Your hands wrapped around his neck, eyes falling closed as you immerse yourself in him.

Bill’s knee nudged your thighs apart, moving himself so he was lined up against you, hand brushing his cock up and down your lips, causing both of you to shudder.

His head dipped into you, your tight heat causing him to hiss, pausing for a moment to savour the feeling before pushing himself in fully, stopping only once he’d bottomed out.

“Are y’okay?”

You bit your lower lip as Bill moved away from you to scan your face for discomfort or pain. His girth, while not quite painful was definitely bordering on pain, your walls stretching as he filled you entirely.

“Yes, just, one second.”

Your hands gripped his neck, lacing your fingers through the tresses of his hair as you adjusted around him. As the pain receded, you nodded, a silent signal for the man to move.

He carefully pulled out of you, then pushed back in slowly, hands landing by your head to brace himself, testing the waters whilst both of you moaned at the feeling.

“Faster.”

Bill obliged, moving to thrust in and out of you at increasing speeds with each movement. His hips snapped against yours at a speed that could only be described as vicious, eliciting sounds that defiled the tranquil nature you were surrounded by.

You were breathless as the man thrusted in and out of you, his movements only capable of drawing pants and whimpers from your mouth, the activity rendering you a simpleton who knew only two words - ‘Bill’ and ‘please’.

Your climax soon drew close, a coil tightening with his every sound and every move, your body notifying the man above you by the clench of your walls around him, the motion drawing him closer to his own orgasm.

“Are you close baby?”

A nod was all you managed as you threw your head back, Bill’s tip brushing against your g-spot edging you even closer to your precipice.

One of Bill’s hands moved down your body, landing on the bundle of nerves above where the two of you met, rubbing figure eights onto you, making you let out a gasp of surprise as the older man helped you move closer to your orgasm.

His movements didn’t falter as your moans grew louder, seeming instead encouraged by the promise of your climax, your moans growing loud and unabashed.

Each pant of his name made the man groan in return, moving both his fingers and his hips so ferociously that your breasts bounced with each thrust, your back sure to be red and chafed in the morning from the friction against the blanket.

But you didn’t care - the only thoughts you were capable of manifesting was how good it felt to have Bill inside you, how this was the one thing you’d ever needed to feel full, how he never stopped in his stimulation, the way his mouth felt on your nipples - sucking on the skin of your breasts, a reminder that would last of this fleeting night.

As Bill stimulated you with his cock, his fingers, his mouth, you couldn’t hold it in any longer - and you could tell Bill was reaching his breaking point as well - you let out a moan that would awaken the sleeping birds in the tree nearby, a scream of “Bill” that would leave the twins wondering why your voice was hoarse in the morning left you, legs trembling as you released around the man.

Yet he still never relented.

As you rode out your orgasm, your cunt throbbing, Bill never faltered in his actions, hips thrusting into you as he bit into your neck softly, intent on marking you for all to see as his cock twitched inside of you.

With a moan that you could only describe as sinful, yet angelic, a sound that would haunt your dreams and bless your nightmares, teeth grazing your sensitive skin, Bill came into you. Hot stripes of white liquid coating your walls while his thrusts slowed to a stop.

Getting up on trembling hands, Bill hovered above you, exiting you in a slow movement that had you whimpering at the sudden emptiness, your eyes still shut from your post-orgasmic bliss.

Lips pressed onto your forehead, as if Bill was savouring something he didn’t want to lose.

Something you didn’t want to lose either.

⚔︎

The flight back to the Burrow was silent, the two of you side by side as you flew through the wilderness of Ottery St. Catchpole.

When you landed, you looked out onto the nature around you, Bill landing almost immediately after you.

In the distance, you could see the sun readying to rise in the East, colours bleeding into the sky that had been pitch dark save for the spattered stars hours ago.

“Did you regret that?”

The man standing beside you asked after a moment of silence, not daring to meet your eyes as he appeared vulnerable, afraid, feigning an interest in the rising sun.

His muscular arm was what you were faced with as you turned towards him, his tall stature casting a shadow over you. You eyed the red marks you’d left on him, the little reminders scattered on his shoulders and back.

“No. Did you?”

The cursebreaker turned to face you, an unreadable expression on his face as he watched you, scanning your face for the umpteenth time that night.

“Of course not.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, drawing Bill’s gaze down towards them, a small smile telling you he was admiring the slowly darkening marks he’d left on you.

“Then why’d you assume I would’ve?”

He caught his lower lip between his teeth, gnawing on it absentmindedly as he shrugged.

“I dunno. Just assumed you wouldn’t have wanted that with an older man or somethin’, I s’just worried, s’all.”

You inhaled deeply, letting out a long sigh as you reached out towards the man, cupping a hand on either side of his chiseled jaw, making him look into your eyes.

“Bill, that was my decision to make. If I didn’t want to have sex with you, I wouldn’t’ve done it. It’s not your place to decide for me whether I wanted it.”

You leaned in to capture his lips in yours; this time deepening the kiss on your terms, slipping your tongue into his mouth and savouring his taste.

Cinnamon, with a hint of mint and tobacco.

You pulled away, tracing your lips to the sweet spot under his ear, sucking softly before turning to whisper in his ear.

“I wanted it, and I’ve wanted you for longer than you could have known.”

part two out now x

#mine #writing #request #bill weasley #bill weasley x reader #bill weasley angst #bill weasley smut #bill weasley fluff #harry potter fluff #harry potter imagine #harry potter angst #harry potter smut #bill weasley imagine #hp angst #hp imagine #hp fluff #hp smut

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more-stuff-of-pi · 3 years

Text

I’ll Fight For You

a/n: lmao i swear i’m fine, just needed good ol’ kiri to assist me in a v self-indulgent fic. also, sorry for taking forever to write something yoinks

notes: did i read through this after i wrote it? nope. we’re fucking rolling with the audacity of not even a single ounce of beta-ing. requests are open :) find my masterlist here

pairing: kirishima eijirou x fem!reader | genre: angst (w/happy ending) / hurt/comfort | warnings: abusive mother (mental/verbal), a father who doesn’t intervene | word count: 2,018

Your boyfriend was practically vibrating with nerves as he adjusted his hair in the mirror. It was artfully piled on top of his head, his dark roots making a sharp contrast against the vibrant red.

“Ei,” you smiled, “you’re gonna be fine.”

He worried his sharp teeth against his bottom lip, frowning all the while. “But what if they--?”

“They’re going to love you, Ei. Probably even more than they love me,” you joke, coming up behind Eijirou’s monstrously large form. Hero work had been both kind and harsh on him but he made it look effortlessly good. You gently slid your arms around his waist as you angled yourself so that you could still eye his reflection.

“I’m just… worried, is all.”

You cock your eyebrow. “About what, Ei?”

He incredulously meets your gaze through the mirror. “What do you mean, about what?!”

It dawns on you a little bit. “Oh, well, she’s not going to be mean to you, Ei. She knows how to play nice when it counts. And you, good sir, count.”

“That’s not as reassuring as it is worrying, you know.”

“My mother is just a little intense, babe, it’s nothing I’m not used to. Like I said, she knows how to tone it down in front of others. I’m sure tonight will be fine. I probably just exaggerate everytime I whine about her, so she’s probably not even half as bad as I make her sound,” you shrug, leaning more into Eijirou’s side.

“Baby,” he sighs, twisting a little to look directly at you, no mirror this time. His eyes are sad yet firm as if wishing you to understand that there’s no need to defend yourself with him.

You squeeze him tighter before letting go and walking to the door. “C’mon, we’ll be late if we don’t leave now.”

❁

You always forget that you don’t really ever exaggerate your mother’s behavior towards you until you’re around her again. Everything as far as introducing your boyfriend to your parents has been going incredibly smoothly. Your dad enthusiastically engaged Eijirou in hero stories, talking about Red Riot’s most recent media appearance where he was dressed in pajamas and carrying tubs of various ice creams you both had wanted to try when he dropped everything to prevent a construction beam from falling on clueless bystanders. Only one tub of ice cream had survived and luck had it that it was your least favorite flavor combination. Your mother praised Eijirou for his success and his coupling good looks at which she winked, making your boyfriend flush both at the phrase and the uncomfortable comments your mother directed at him. You winced at that, having forgotten to prepare him for the habitual talent your mother had of sexualizing anything, especially if it would ‘embarrass’ her child.

Your mother had made off handed comments throughout the whole night that you seemed to be the only one to pick up on. Your dad might have noticed a few but, as usual, he only looked at you apologetically, never interrupting his wife to stand up for you.

As much as you loved both of your parents and as much as they had their good moments, this fucking sucked.

“--not that she’s any good with that quirk of hers, of course,” your mother snickered as she brought the glass to her lips. You had become a good actor over the years in order to avoid your mother’s bullying over your ‘sensitiveness’, but something about her dismissing your hard work always immediately dismantled whatever mask you had thrown on. To cover what you know must be a crestfallen look, you give a laugh, something that could be called half-hearted at best. Your eyes remained trained on your food. “Oh come on, Y/n, that was funny.”

You chuckled again, hoping to force some genuineness into it. “Yeah--”

“No, it wasn’t,” Eijirou immediately cuts you off, voice straining with anger. You felt your face drain of blood as you noticed how tightly he was gripping his chopsticks. He was fuming. You don’t think you’d ever seen him angry before. The thought scared you. “That was just mean.”

Your mother quirked an unimpressed, subtly pissed brow at your boyfriend. “Don’t be sensitive, Eijirou. House rules: if it’s mean but funny, it’s okay.”

“As long as you get a laugh from it, it’s okay to abuse your child?” He spits at her like venom.

Your mother sets her glass down, eyes narrowing. “Excuse me?”

“You heard--”

You slap a hand over Eijirou’s bicep, squeezing so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if he ended up bruising. “It’s fine! Nothing I’m used to! I grew up on the ‘if it’s mean but funny’ rule, so it’s fine.”

The look he gave you was of incredulous anger. “No, it is not--!”

“Please, Ei. Please, just--,” you averted your eyes, ashamed of your own familiar defeat. “Just sit.”

Shamefully, you slide back into your seat, nervously smoothing out a napkin back onto your lap. Eijirou still stood beside you, staring daggers at your mother who effortlessly returned it. His fists were balled, the veins in his hands flexing with the effort of restraining himself. His jaw snapped shut with an audible clamp as he resolved himself to sitting back down.

Your dad clears his throat, more so than necessary as if the harder he did it, the better he could dissipate the tension. “Done, everyone?” No one answers him. He takes that as the go ahead to begin clearing dishes, desperately jumping at the opportunity to escape your mother’s impending tantrum. You loved your dad very much but, god, he was nothing if not a coward, always leaving you to fight your own battles. You don’t think you’ve ever won.

Your mother returns her cold attention to you, the ice starting to thicken and your mother’s hollow kindness starting to retreat along with her patience. “What are you even doing to help train your quirk, sweetie?”

Taken aback, you met her gaze. “W-what do you mean?”

“I mean, I don’t ever see you doing anything at all to help. You do realize that training takes work, right? What does it take? It takes--,” your mother trailed off, flourishing both hands to motion for you to finish the sentence.

“Effort--”

“Effort!” She clapped with your word. “It takes effort! And I only want the best for you, sweetheart, which is why I’m just asking what you’re doing. From where I stand, it doesn’t look like you’re doing anything at all to help improve yourself! As your mother, your concerned mother, I’m just looking out for you, sweetheart.”

Your mind is reeling at her words. You so badly want to defend yourself, assert all of the effort that you have painstakingly put in-- but you are reminded of the precise way your mother is able to leech any ounce of power or confidence from you. You would think that was her quirk if you didn’t know any better. “Mom, I am putting effort in, I train almost everyday--”

“Do you really?” Her voice drips with venomous shock. “It certainly doesn’t look like you do,” she gestures vaguely at you, eyeing your body with a vulture’s gaze. “Maybe you should consider morning and night. Oh! And a diet change, too. You know, since the popular heroes have a specific look to them and I just want to make sure that you can fit that. Since it’s your dream to be a popular hero. Like I said, you have to be willing to put in the effort. Oh, sweetie, don’t look at me like that. You know the difficult position I’m in! Trying to encourage you and help you achieve your dreams while not seeming too enthusiastic. You’re putting that stress on me, sweetie, I’m only trying to help.”

It really was incredible how quickly your mother could erase any confidence you had. Normally, you would stand beaming, more than happy to assert yourself and stand up for yourself and others. All it took was a couple words from your mother, and you turned into a dog with its head down and its tail between its legs, fearful of its master.

Your gut sank and hatred swirled throughout your body for both yourself and her as you once again let her have power over you. “You’re right. Sorry, Mom--”

“Do you know where your daughter ranks as a hero?”

Stunned, you both glanced at Eijirou, having almost completely forgotten that he was there. Throughout her tirade, you had felt a tragically familiar loneliness, used to having to defend yourself when no one, not even your other family members, would. Used to always submitting and used to the shame that always accompanied your forced silence.

“What?” She spat.

“I asked if you knew your daughter’s ranking. I just was wondering, is all. It would make sense if you weren’t aware that she ranks in the top 30 since you were asking about the effort she puts in. I would think that that accomplishment -- at such a young age, too, might I add -- was evidence enough of the countless hours, blood, sweat, and tears that she has poured into this. The effort she’s painstakingly put in. You’re right that being a hero is her dream, and she’s a damn good one, too. Saved my life more than once with ‘that quirk of hers’,” he sneered bitterly. “And, on top of that, she’s so beautiful through and through that sometimes it’s all I can do to stare at her in awe. Your thinly veiled shaming of her appearance is never the result of a mother’s so-called difficult situation, only the result of your own insecurities.”

Eijirou suddenly stands, having finally had more than enough for one night. “The only gratitude I will ever have towards you is for bringing this wonderful woman into this world. I hope one day you’ll actually realize how amazing your daughter is and how proud of her you ought to be. Because I am. I am so incredibly proud of her and her accomplishments and the results of her efforts.”

“And who’s to say that I’m not proud of her, Eijirou?”

He scoffs. Eijirou, the kindest, most patient man you know, scoffs in your mother’s face. “Haven’t you ever heard that actions speak louder than words?”

Your mother gapes up at him, opening and closing her mouth like a fish. In that moment, she resembles a fish and you couldn’t be more pleased with that comparison.

“He’s right, mom.” You rise to join him. “I know you love me. I have no choice but to believe it because I think it would destroy me if I didn’t. But maybe someday I won’t constantly have to defend myself to you and you’ll accept the things I say without dismissing them. You always say you admire me most for my assertiveness but you shut me down anytime I use it to stand up for myself against you. And that makes you nothing but a hypocrite.” You stare her down, reveling in the confidence Eijirou gives you in this thing against your mother. For the first time, you are not alone as you fight this battle. For the first time, you have help. And for the first time, you feel like you’ve won. “Now if you’ll excuse us.”

You take Eijirou’s hand and lead him out of the house, leaving your parents to stare after you in shock. As soon as you make it out, cold air hits you like a slap in the face that harshly wakes you from a daze.

“Holy shit, Ei, did I just stand up to my mom?”

He laughs and squeezes your hand. “It was pretty manly, too.” You laugh breathlessly, still in disbelief as you push your other fist against his arm. “And you know,” he continues, “that I’m the best judge of that.”

“That must mean a lot,” you grin, swinging your linked hands between you as you walk further from your parents’ home, feeling the fullness of a good meal and a battle won.

taglist: @samwrights, @mayaoliviee, @luluwiie, @gigglyparker (i thought i would tag you since you commented on the draft that i posted of this, hope you don’t mind <3)

#i'll fight for you #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader #bnha x reader #hurt/comfort #abusive mother tw #tw abusive mother #mha x reader #bro this fic lowkey fvcking sucks lmao so sorry that this is the first thing you see from me in a while #like it just feels really rushed which it probably is but it's incredibly self-indulgent and it fulfills my purposes so it's good enough #for me that is

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join-the-joywrite · 3 years

Text

So before I say goodbye, would you do one last thing for me?

And take, take her to the moon for me

Reggie thinks about crossing over . . . and then he does

read on ao3 here

you can all thank @thedeathdeelers for it because of this post. and also you should all go listen to the song based off bing bong's take her to the moon line

They were going to cross over. Soon. It wasn't going to be some great big show of sparks or jolts of pain. Reggie could tell it was going to be a quiet affair that took them away unexpectedly.

Reggie sat alone most nights, wondering what his unfinished business had been. The Orpheum, though only half a year ago, felt like several years. Stealing Willie's soul back from right under Caleb's nose was just a few weeks ago but it felt like months. On these lonely nights, Reggie mentally relived his afterlife, trying to pinpoint some milestone moment that could've been it. Other nights, he distracted himself playing softly with Alex and Luke, or tweaking songs with Luke, or pathetically failing to learn skating with Willie. Or sometimes he would wander around the house and just do small things here and there.

Once, he did Carlos' forgotten math homework for him. Julie had scolded him about cheating with Carlos, but that had only been for a second before she relayed how grateful Carlos was and how much he wished he could see Reggie and say it himself.

Part of Reggie wanted to voice his thoughts about crossing over. Another part of him hoped that if he didn't talk about it, it wouldn't be real.

And then, one day, Willie vanished. As expected and understandably so, Alex was inconsolable. Reggie made the mistake of offhandedly commenting that it wasn't so bad. Maybe they'd meet up again after they crossed over. It wasn't much longer, now.

Alex was furious first. How could Reggie say that it wasn't so bad? Alex was confused after that. What did Reggie mean with all that? Alex was concerned in the end. Did Reggie really think they were going to cross over?

It was a nice thought, Alex would later tell Reggie. That they could be together when they crossed over and that he would see Willie again. But that wasn't going to happen for a long time. Luke agreed. They were going to take Julie to stardom before they ever considered leaving.

Reggie thought about Julie almost every minute of the day. He figured they would be okay with whatever happened after they crossed over. What would happen to Julie? Would it take her long to figure out what happened? Would their absence turn her away from music again?

That thought alone had bothered Reggie so much that even Carlos noticed. Things were messy around the house. His computer was open on Spotify and the music was blasting into his headphones. No one was beating his messy room for him anymore. Luke decided to talk to Reggie. It all came out in a rush, how he was so afraid that when they crossed over, it would tear Julie apart. After he'd sat with Reggie and listened to everything bottled up, Luke promised to talk to Julie seriously -- and that serious talk happened to be today.

Reggie, who had been laying on the floor while all these thoughts bounced around in his head, sat up suddenly.

The studio was silent.

"Alex?"

Denial set in very quickly. Not now. He wasn't ready yet. He'd known it was coming for at least one month but he was far from prepared.

Alex had to be around somewhere, right? Reggie suddenly realised he was just hoping for a sign of where Alex was moments before he accidentally stepped onto Alex's drumsticks and landed on his back.

The drumsticks rolled across the floor, coming to a slow stop at the wheel of Willie's skateboard.

Sometimes my mom sends me signs, Julie had said once, and sometimes I don't get it until much later but sometimes it's just so clear what she's trying to tell me.

Reggie stared at the drumsticks and the skateboard. Couldn't get much clearer than that.

Suddenly, Reggie was struck with the horrifying thought that Luke had vanished mid-conversation with Julie.

Not thinking before he leapt, Reggie poofed into Julie's room.

"You're not allowed to do that," Julie said casually. "You know that."

"Sorry. Uh, do you know where Luke is?"

Julie shook her head. "He just left a few minutes ago. Said something about wanting to get some lyrics out of his head. Isn't he in the studio?"

Reggie lied very easily and believably. "Oh, I was just downstairs. I haven't checked the studio yet 'cause I thought I heard you talking to someone up here."

Reggie didn't know why he was lying to Julie. He didn't know what was worse. Telling her the truth or wishing he had later.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he said with a chipper smile.

"Do you want a hug?"

Okay, so maybe he couldn't always lie well about everything. Reggie's nod was hesitant before it was quick.

Julie hopped off her bed and hung her arms loosely around Reggie. She let out a surprised yelp when Reggie wrapped his arms tightly around Julie.

"Someone's competing with Alex for best hug-giver."

Normally, Reggie would've laughed at that. But Alex was gone. Luke probably was too. Reggie would be gone soon too. He had to leave Julie's room. It would break her if she had to see it happen.

"Thanks, Julie."

Julie smiled brightly when Reggie pulled away. "Anytime. My hugs are free for all."

"You should get some sleep. W-we'll see you in the morning."

Why was he lying to her? He knew he'd be gone before she even fell asleep.

Maybe, if she thought they crossed over in the peace and quiet of the still night, she would feel better. Maybe, if she thought they crossed over while she slept, she would blame them for not waking her, not herself for not noticing.

"Fine. But not because you said to." Julie slid under her duvet and grinned at Reggie. She was mid-yawn before she realised. "I'll see you guys in the morning. Tell Alex and Luke I said good night."

"I will," Reggie said. And if he did happen to meet Alex and Luke, he would without a doubt deliver Julie's message. "I love you. We love you."

"Aww. I love you too, Reg."

Reggie left before he did or said something that would make Julie worry.

He meant to land in the studio. Instead, he found himself in the kitchen, his legs numb and a hollow emptiness in his chest.

"Reggie?"

Reggie looked up to see Carlos, backlit by the open fridge. "You should be in bed."

"You should be invisible."

"Uh . . . that's true."

Carlos kicked the fridge closed as he walked over to Reggie, quietly setting his glass on the island counter. "Are you okay? You look a bit sick. Can ghosts get sick? Is that a thing? Are there ghost doctors? Are they, like, special ghost doctors or just doctors that died?"

"That's too many questions at once, little man."

Carlos frowned. Reggie always answered every single question on the odd occasion that he could see and hear Reggie -- or even if Reggie was just chatting to him with Julie's phone. "Are you okay?" Carlos asked again, this time more serious and somehow even quieter than before.

"I will be." Another lie. He didn't know. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that Julie and Carlos didn't worry.

"What's wrong?"

Reggie wished he could hug Carlos like he had hugged Julie just a few minutes ago. "I, uh . . . I gotta go."

"Oh. Where are you going? You're gonna be back, though, right?"

"I don't know." The first truth Reggie had spoken all night. "But I won't come back."

"Wh-- . . . oh." Carlos glanced down at the floor.

"Hey," Reggie said, crouching down. Carlos was looking down at him now. "You're gonna be okay."

"But what about you? Are you gonna be okay?"

Reggie shrugged. "I hope so. Maybe I'll see you again when you're all old and wrinkly."

"Ha ha." Carlos' tone was sarcastic, but his smile was genuine. His eyes widened and a gasp caught in his throat when Reggie wiped away the tears he didn't even notice. Without stopping to question it, Carlos threw his arms around Reggie's shoulders and held tight. "Do you have to go?"

The fragility of Carlos' croaked question set alight a small but agonizing flame in Reggie's chest. "I have to," he murmured, holding Carlos gently. "Alex and Luke are probably waiting for me."

"I don't want you to go."

"I know."

Reggie's entire body, save for the burning yet soothing sparks in his chest, felt numb. He had to glance over Carlos' shoulder to make sure he still had his arms. He moved to pull back so he could leave -- Carlos didn't have to see whatever crossing over looked like -- but Carlos wouldn't let go.

Reggie figured he would've been able to break out of Carlos' hold on a normal day. But today wasn't normal, was it?

"I have to go," Reggie said.

Carlos pretended he didn't hear it. "You're the best brother in the world."

Finally, Carlos let Reggie move back, but Reggie didn't stand or poof out. Instead, he gave Carlos a smile and wiped Carlos' wet cheeks. "Nah. You are. You're gonna look after Julie for us, aren't you?"

Carlos nodded. He refused to acknowledge the fact that he could see through Reggie. He was just tired and needed to go to bed, right?

"Julie belongs with the stars," Reggie said. "Take her to the moon for me, okay?"

"I'll try," Carlos told the empty kitchen. "I promise."

And then he wrapped his arms around himself and sat down on the floor as his small shoulders shook silently.

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #reggie peters #mara writes stuff #angst warning #this is very sad y'all #im so sorry #(no im not)

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tahitianmangoes · 3 years

Text

Snow Falls

Pairing: Charles x Arthur Summary: After Charles had found Arthur unconscious on that mountain and he vowed that he'd never leave him again. Now he’d broken that vow. Words:3018 Chapter 1/1

Not cannon compliant | NSF W

And the snow falls, the wind calls The year turns round again 'Til then put your trust in tomorrow my friend For yesterday's over and done

****

The cabin was the best way up a mountain, far from prying eyes. They were safe here. Arthur could rest here. Charles could almost rest too but he would be lying if he said that he didn’t spend the moments that he wasn’t caring for Arthur looking over his shoulder for bounty hunters, Pinkertons or worse, Dutch and Micah.

Arthur was awake before Charles, he had gotten out of bed and was stoking the fire. “I can do that,” Charles said huskily, still half asleep and half dressed, getting out of bed and going over to Arthur.

Arthur's frame was slimmer than it had been a few months ago, a few months ago when Arthur had been well enough to eat. At that time, Charles had been able to see Arthur's spine through his paper white skin when the older outlaw let Charles bathe him. No matter how hard Charles tried to get Arthur to eat more, he didn't. He couldn't. Some days, he had no appetite. Some days, it was all he could do to get out of bed and sit by the cabin window. His brilliant blue eyes were less blood shot now though, perhaps because the stillness of the mountains allowed him to sleep compared to their tiny but noisy room in Saint Denis. The colour had returned to his sallow cheeks and he was beginning to grow stronger day by day.

But Charles could still hear Arthur's breaths sometimes, laboured and shaky. He tried to hide how breathless he became doing simple things like even brushing the horses, tried to stifle his coughs from Charles perhaps because he was embarrassed but of course, nothing escaped Charles.

“I know,” Arthur replied, “but I want to. Maybe you can let me chop the firewood from now on - you always do it.” “Oh Arthur…” Charles started. “Don’t oh Arthur me, “ Arthur said quickly. “Charles, I know you’re just trying to help but… I’m bored! I’m so damned bored, stuck in a little cabin in the middle of nowhere like… Like Little Red Riding Hood!” Charles chuckled at this. “It ain’t funny, Charles.” Arthur said huffily, continuing to stoke the fire doggedly. “You said we’d be across the border soon and I’m... I'm feeling better. We could go soon.”

Charles sighed, he reached for Arthur’s face. Arthur let Charles stroke the soft downy hair out of his eyes and caress his cheek tenderly. “I just want to take care of you, my love. You’re… well, you’re still healing.” “I’m fine…” Arthur started but Charles brushed his thumb over Arthur’s lips in a bid to silence him. They held each other’s gaze, it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Charles thart Arthur's shimmering blue eyes were more tired these days. But he was still the man Charles had fallen in love with, loved like no other. “We're lucky we've made it this far. I don't want to push the limits. We’ll go as soon as you’re ready, I promise.” Charles said gently, moving his head closer to Arthur's, “you know what the doctor said, you must rest.” “Charles-” “Arthur…”

They didn’t say it often. Arthur would flush and look away and Charles found himself getting tongue tied. So he kissed Arthur and Arthur kissed back. Arthur was always so strong but at the feel of Charles's lips to his own, he softened. He sighed into Charles’s mouth.

“You've spent your whole life taking care of other people,” Charles said to him in earnest, “let me take care of you. Just this one time.” Arthur was powerless to argue.

****

Charles chopped firewood in the morning, made sure Arthur took the medicine the doctor had prescribed for him for his pneumonia with his breakfast of eggs and potatoes. After that, Charles cleaned his guns, crafted some arrows and mended some of his clothes that seemed to miraculously sprout holes faster than he could stitch them. Arthur dozed, the medicine made him drowsy and the warmth from the fireplace only exacerbated things. Charles was glad to see Arthur resting, though. Once he was better, they would head further north into Canada and start a new life. Get some land. Maybe some animals, too. Maybe change their names. Spend every day together. Grow old together. Forget what happened out east. Love each other until they stopped drawing breath… But Arthur wasn’t well enough yet. Charles had waited this long, he could wait a while longer.

Charles’s cough started that evening after dinner. Arthur’s eyes widened, “d-did I..?” Charles shook his head and laughed softly, “it’s not contagious. I must have caught the cold, that’s all.” By the next morning, the cough had worsened and Charles's chest hurt; it felt like he was tearing through him with each swing of his axe while he chopped the firewood as usual. He fixed breakfast while Arthur slept in - he hadn’t slept well during the night, he'd woken wheezing a few times and sweating. Charles had feared it was a fever but he seemed better by the time he awoke the next day.

Charles didn’t tell Arthur that it hurt when he moved, that his head felt stuffy and the blood pounded like he’d been running. But he didn’t need to. Arthur noticed that Charles seemed groggy and tired. “It’s just a cold. I’ll be fine.” Charles said dismissively.

But Arthur saw how he shivered as he tried to stitch the clothes he hadn’t managed to finish yesterday.

“Come to bed.” “Arthur, I’m hardly in the mood-” Charles was cut off by Arthur’s rasping laugh. “I ain’t propositioning you, Mr Smith.” Charles looked over at Arthur who was still lying down and felt his cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. “It’s warm here. We can keep each other warm, pair o’ invalids together.” Arthur said, patting the bed beside him. Charles smirked. “How can I resist?”

So the pair of them spent the rest of the day in bed together, huddling under the blankets, Charles's head aching and his chest tight, dozing in each other's arms in a contended way that they’d never really been able to when they had been living a life on the run.

They spent the next few days like that until the worst of Charles's cold passed. Arthur seemed to enjoy this role reversal of taking care of Charles. He made him hot herbal tea that he said Hosea had taught him to brew. Better than that stuff you buy in the store. Whether the tea really helped or not, Charles was able to get up and back to his usual self (or near enough,) after a couple of days. But by this time, there was almost no food left in the cabin. “I’m going hunting,” Charles told Arthur that morning. “Charles… you’re not well.” Arthur said sleepily, holding his hand as he went to leave the bed to get dressed. Charles tugged away reluctantly, fingers slipping through Arthur's like water. “I’m well enough. Besides, we’ll both starve if I don’t go. I’ll be back before nightfall, I promise you.”

But he wasn’t.

The snow came down heavy and thick. Charles cursed himself for being so careless, so stupid. He’d been tracking a mountain ram, perhaps a little too far. He should have known when to give up and turn back, maybe ride into town the next day and get supplies from the general store but as much as Charles would never admit it, it was his pride that kept him out longer than he should have been. He didn’t want to return to Arthur empty handed, though he knew Arthur wouldn’t be disappointed. It was stupid, male pride. It was that pride that found him unable to get back across the mountain to the cabin, to Arthur. Taima had always been a strong horse but this had proven to be her limit. The snowstorm rolled across the hills and Charles was lucky in that he found a cave that looked like it had once been home to animals of some sort - wolves he suspected - but now seemed empty. He did his best to light a fire for them both but the wood he managed to gather in the boisterous wind was too wet and the embers soon died out.

The storm swirled and the wind howled. He was reminded of the time after the Blackwater fiasco, when the gang had been stuck in a storm at Colter. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. He had shared his first kiss with Arthur not long after that, just before the gang had moved from Horseshoe Overlook to Clemens Point. He remembered that night, when they’d camped under the stars in Big Valley, how Charles had felt so comfortable with Arthur in a way he’d never felt with anyone else. He’d never foreseen this future for himself, falling for a man, a white man, a murderer and outlaw… but Charles knew he couldn't question the way the world turns. All he knew was that he cared for Arthur in a way that set his heart on ablaze like nothing before.

Rains Fall had looked him deeply in the eyes that night when Arthur returned to Beaver Hollow and said, “go to him.” Charles had opened his mouth to protest but Rains Fall shook his head steadfastly, He had wore a sorrowful smile but the look in his eyes was as resolute as ever. “I have lost too many people I love, Mr Smith. You have too.” He lay his hand gently on Charles’s shoulder. “Mr Morgan can be saved. He needs you more than we do, now go.”

So Charles had rode into the night, the sky had gone from deepest navy to a blanket of obsidian above him. No stars shone. Charles rode desperately to Arthur, each beat of his heart was Arthur’s name as he flattened his body to Taima’s and urged her faster and faster, please, girl. Please just this once, please.

He had found Arthur unconscious on that mountain and he vowed that he'd never leave him again. Now he’d broken that vow.

As the snow came down harder and faster than ever, Charles paced the cave, flooded with images of Arthur alone in the cabin and endless “what ifs?” Eventually the night rolled in, the moon reflecting off of the snow as if it were the ocean and Charles knew he he could do nothing but wait.

Two days passed. Charles managed to start a fire and kept himself and Taima warm. It was a comfort to have her there, she'd been through a lot with him and turned out to be the most loyal of everyone in the end. On the third morning, the snow had all but stopped and it was so serene on the mountain now, as if the storm had never happened. Charles mounted up and urged Taima back to the cabin, fearing the worst with every beat of his heart.

****

It was dark by the time Charles burst through the door of the cabin, Arthur was already on his feet. Neither said anything as they embraced, Charles holding Arthur so tight to his chest, tighter than he should be he didn’t care. Needed to feel the warmth of the other man, to feel his breath on his neck as they stood like that while time seemed to stand still and all that could be heard was the crackling from the fire. He wouldn’t let Arthur go ever again.

And then they were kissing. Kissing without care nor hesitation nor complexity. Just two people so fiercely in love.

“I’ve missed you,” Charles breathed, kissing Arthur so hard it almost knocked the air from his lungs. “I love you,” came Arthur’s reply, his lips soft and warm against Charles’s cold ones.

He’d missed Arthur desperately, that feeling that he might not see him again, just like the night he went to the mountain had flooded him Every doubt he’d ever had, every time he had wondered if he had made the right decision was erased.

He kissed Arthur hard, bruisingly so. Arthur sighed into the kiss, lacing his arms around Charles’s neck and pressing their bodies together.

Charles had never loved anyone like this, never felt the branches grow, felt it take root in him until it was at his very centre. All consuming. The reason he woke up in the morning and the reason he didn't just give up when things looked bleak. The reason the sunsets looked beautiful and the reason why food tasted good.

Charles didn't know which one of them had started to the bed or maybe it was both but suddenly, he was lying Arthur down and Arthur was kissing his neck and unbuttoning his shirt.

Charles hesitated, “Arthur… Are you sure?” He asked gently.

They’d only done this a handful of times, Arthur inexperienced and shy about his body, Charles not wanting to press the issue because of Arthur’s inexperience but also because Arthur was still frail. But he’d make love to Arthur every day if he could just to see the way the older man’s eyes seemed to shine when he lay beneath Charles and how his face lost all tension when it was enraptured by bliss.

Since Arthur got sick, they hadn’t been able to be intimate. Arthur’s health was more important. And then they were moving from place to place, Charles paranoid that someone had recognised them from their bounty posters even though he would slip out at night sometimes while Arthur slept and tear them down, burning them in the fire.

This was the first time in months that they were truly alone. Arthur leaned up to kiss Charles’s lips, before pulling away, their eyes meeting in a rich gaze, “it’s ok… I want to do this.” he told him

Charles brushed Arthur’s hair from his face, the love he felt overpowering him, hands working away at Arthur’s shirt and union suit until he was bare. Charles kissed his lover’s pale, flushed skin, ran his lips tenderly over the gunshot wound at his shoulder, let his tongue flick teasingly around Arthur's nipples and softly nibble at his stomach, delighting in how Arthur quaked beneath him and gasped.

Arthur’s hands reached for Charles, too, slipping his shirt off of him, fingers working at buttons and fastenings until Charles was freed of his clothes. Arthur continued, caressing the wide expanse of Charles’s back, down his flank and kneading his ass. Charles chuckled softly. “I want you,” Arthur whispered. “You’re sure?” “Y-yeah.”

Charles rolled them both over so that Arthur was now astride him. His feet remained planted on the floor, his hips supported by the bed, Arthur straddled him. Both were panting and flushed, both achingly hard.

Arthur looked away hesitantly, arms moving up instinctively to cover himself but Charles held his wrists gently, “I want to see you, all of you.” Still not meeting Charles’s gaze, Arthur positioned himself over Charles’s length and, not able to wait any longer, after quickly slicking it with hair pomade (that tore a shiver down Charles’s spine but he managed to stop himself from bucking up into Arthur), he sunk down, swallowing Charles inch by inch.

Both of them gasped and moaned softly. Arthur’s dazzling eyes closed now as he adjusted to the length buried deep inside him to the hilt..

Arthur moved, he groaned as he did so. Charles filled him, felt so big inside. He reached down, steading himself by placing his palms on Charles's broad chest and then began to find a pace that he could enjoy. Charles watched with adoration as Arthur rode him, slow and sensual at first. He saw the flush deepening, saw his brow furrow as he found a rhythm, Charles placed his hands on Arthur’s hips to steady him Charles reached up to caress Arthur torso, his hips, the swell of his ass. The older outlaw’s weight bared down on him, engulfing him. Everything from the past few days, the past awful months felt like white noise. All Charles could focus on was his hard cock inside Arthur, his breathing, Arthur’s moans, their bodies rubbing against each other's, the feel of Arthur’s erection on his stomach as he slid in and out out of him, him becoming part of Arthur and Arthur becoming part of him.

It didn’t take long for Arthur's moans to grow louder and for him to bring himself down harder, passage squeezing Charles, making Charles growl in response. Arthur’s eyes rolled back and his body stiffened, he juddered almost collapsing if Charles hadn’t been holding him. He came without touching himself the first time. Charles saw the ecstasy clouding Arthur’s vision and as he barely came down from his first orgasm, he began to chase a second, raising his hips, grinding down on Charles with a force that Charles hadn't been certain Arthur wasn't capable of. Arthur huffed and cursed, he chanted Charles's name between low, careless moans. Charles groaned, doing his best not to spill himself in Arthur just yet and fill him up as much as would love to, Arthur’s heat was hypnotising but so was the way he moved, so was the way he looked above him, fawn coloured hair framing his handsome face, biting down on his lip, unable to hide how good this made him feel, how much he loved this,

Charles’s cock wrung orgasm after orgasm out of Arthur until he was left breathless and exhausted and finally collapsed into Charles’s arms. Charles thrust up into Arthur now, shivering and chest rumbling as he came, foreheads pressed together, breath hot on his face, Arthur’s lips trailing lazy kisses over his skin until they both stilled and lay in each others arms.

They lay like that until it began to grow light again outside and Charles could hear birdsong. "I love you," Charles murmured. Arthur slipped his hand in Charles's and whispered it back before he began to snore softly.

#charthur #rdr2 #writing #charles x arthur #arthur morgan #charles smith

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animeloverskylarmoon · 3 years

Text

Hanataro Yamada x Reader- Oneshot (Bleach)

"It's that punk again how pathetic." your eyes raised at the people gathered before you. A few of the reapers were gathered around someone. As you got closer you could see who it was.

"Of course." you thought with a sigh. You don't know why, but somehow the blue haired healer always managed to get himself into a pickle.

"C-Come on guys w-were all on the same side." you could hear the tremor in his voice.

"Alright the fun is over I need him." you spoke boredly. A few of them stepped away from the reaper, and when his eyes caught you they lit up.

"(Y-Y/N)-chan!" Hanataro ran to your side and you looked over at the other annoyed reapers. One of them smirked.

"Heh, you're always helping him, I'm starting to think you have a crush on the little guy." your face turned red.

"Like hell I do!!" you bellowed. You raised your sword threateningly.

"If you keep spouting such trash I'll make you regret it!" you barked. He took a step back when he felt your reiatsu start to overflow. He turned without another word, his friends following behind him. You sheath your blade with a huff.

"Idiots." you looked back at Hanataro who was smiling at you happily. "W-What!" you demanded. Your face was getting hot by the way he was staring at you. He blinked, waving his hands around.

"N-Nothing. Y-You're just always helping me. Thank you (Y/N)-chan." you looked away walking. "Whatever." you grumbled. Hanataro followed you and you kept your gaze low. Hoping he couldn't read the way his smile had affected you.

"W-Why do I even like him?" You couldn't understand it. You were a fighter, he was a healer. The both of you were total opposites yet..you always found yourself helping him.

Sometimes you would go out of your way to make sure he was okay, especially since he was an easy target for some of the other reapers who apparently had nothing better to do than pick on the adorable guy. "(Y/N)-chan?" you looked up quickly in a sort of panic.

"What's wrong are you okay!?" you asked urgently. You just assumed maybe something was wrong. Hanataro looked at you for a few moments before smiling again.

"I'm fine, I was just asking if you were okay but you didn't respond so I thought something was wrong. " He stepped forward, taking your hands.

"If something is wrong you can tell me. I know I'm not much of a help, but I'll do what I can. You're always there for me, it's the least I can do." His blue orbs looked so determined, so generally concerned.

"That's why...that's why I'm in love with him.." Hanataro was right, he wasn't strong, yet what had drawn you to him wasn't his brute strength, no, it was that look. The one that would do anything to help his friend even if he knew he could get hurt in the process. He was brave.

Your eyes lowered, pulling your hand out of his.

"I'm fine don't worry. " You hated the fact that you weren't as brave as he was. Yeah, you could hold your own in a fight, but internally you were a coward. You couldn't even tell the one guy you had been in love with for years that you liked him. You swallowed. "Thank you though." you muttered. Hanataro grinned.

"Of course!" He chirped.

"Rukia-san, are you sure this is all the paperwork. " You tried to stifle a laugh as Hanataro tried to balance the large pile of documents in his arms. She nodded with a smile of her own.

"Yes, although you don't have to try and carry them in one trip, you could always come back for the rest. " he shook his head frantically.

"T-That's not necessary!" You knew why he didn't want to make two trips. He was probably scared he would get jumped again. You stepped forward, taking the top half of the documents. He titled his head.

"(Y/N)-chan?" you raised your head with a light blush on your face.

"It would be a hassle if you hurt yourself just carrying papers." You didn't say anything after that, you just started walking and Hanataro stumbled trying to catch up with you.

"W-Wait up!!" He fell in step, the both of you walking side by side. Rukia watched the scene with a knowing look.

Hanataro's eyes wandered over you. He'd known you since well, forever. Back in the academy no one really ever paid much mind to him, yet you always seemed to be looking his way. You helped him constantly and he always wondered why.

You never demanded anything in return. Nor did you pick on him like the others. In the back of his mind he thought, he hoped maybe you felt the same way he did. It was foolish. You were a strong beautiful fighter. And he was just well..Hanataro. There wasn't anything grand, so why, why did you even give him the time of day.

Hanataro had been so caught up in his own thoughts he didn't see you come to a complete stop. You were looking ahead with hardened eyes. When he noticed he stopped too. His eyes landed on the reapers who had been pestering him for the past week. The leader of the group stepped forward with a cocky grin.

"What do we have here, two lover birds taking a stroll." you growled at him.

"Beat it idiots, we're not interested. " His grin got wider. "We? So I was right. You are with the pathetic excuse for a reaper." he taunted. You gritted your teeth.

"Shut up!!" you demanded.

"Oh! It's fine the both of you make a great couple." You exploded.

"SHUT UP THERE'S NO WAY I'D LIKE A WEAKLING LIKE HIM MUCH LESS DATE HIM!!"

Hanataro stood there hoping what he had just heard was all in his head. When he saw the wide smiles of the other reapers faces he knew it was true. That's what you thought of him. You probably felt sorry for him. No wonder you were always helping.

"Heh, who was I kidding..of course that's what she thinks of me.." He should have expected it. There was no way someone like you would go for someone like him.

As soon as the words left your mouth you regretted it. Your eyes glanced back at Hanataro. Your heart clenched at the hurt look in his eyes.

"Hanataro.." the other reapers looked satisfied at Hanataro's broken stare.

"Of course not, glad you realize how useless he really is." They didn't say much else, walking off with laughs. You watched as they slowly faded from your view.

"Hanataro I-"

"It's fine." he cut you off. He gave you a smile, walking off ahead. You followed, unsure of what you could say. Every step you took felt like a weight on your heart.

"You don't have to explain. I know you don't have those feelings for me. You are right though I am a weakling. " he laughed bitterly. "You don't have to keep looking out for me you know. It's probably a bother." Your hands gripped the papers tighter.

"T-That's not why I.." you stopped yourself from saying anymore. Hanataro didn't look back at you. Otherwise he probably would have noticed the conflict in your eyes.

"Either way, it's not necessary. I can take care of myself." you were shocked at how cold the words he spoke came out. The both of you continued on your way, neither saying a word to each other after that.

The weeks following that incident felt like hell. You weren't sure if Hanataro was avoiding you. Although it was pretty obvious he was. Whenever there was paperwork to collect someone else came to get them. Not once did Hanataro visit your barracks. You tried going to him and maybe apologizing for the harsh words you said.

Every time you entered, as soon as he saw you he would make any excuse to leave. At first you understood, but after a while it got to you. You had blown it with him. There was no way he would talk to you again. All because you were too scared to admit your feelings.

"I ruined everything.."

~~~~~

You sat outside your captain's squad, tears falling to your lap. You didn't notice Rukia standing behind you watching the scene. She stepped out of the room finally making her presence known and you wiped at your eyes hurriedly.

"R-Rukia-san." you said a bit startled. You didn't want her to see you like this, weak and broken.

She took a seat at your side.

"Are you alright, you've been like this for a while. Do you want me to call Hanataro. I'm sure he can-"

"NO!" you yelled. Her eyes widened and you looked down. "N-No it's fine I'm okay." Rukia's eyes narrowed.

"I have a feeling that has something to do with him (Y/N)-chan. He hasn't been by for a while now. He usually stops by at least once a week to say hello." you didn't answer, but she knew that was the case.

From the looks of it, you weren't going to confront the problem. And Hanataro wasn't going to either. Rukia stood up, giving you a pat on the shoulder. She walked off without a word and you were thankful. Rukia stepped into the office with a new mission.

"Since the both of them are going to avoid the problem, I guess I'll just have to give you a little nudge."

~~~~

"Is there anything else taicho?" Jushiro shook his head. "I believe that's all." he said, shooting you a smile as he gathered the remainder of documents on his desk. You walked over with a sigh of relief as you placed what you had completed on his desk.

"You've been working really hard. Would you like some tea." you giggled with a nod. Jushiro really acted like an old man sometimes. "Sure taicho." you accepted. He looked excited as he stood to get a kettle going.

Just as he walked off you heard frantic steps coming from outside. Your eyebrow raised when you saw the door fly open. Rukia rushed in with a desperate look on her face.

"(Y/N)!!" she sounded scared. "I-It's Hanataro.." You could see the present tears in her eyes. Her voice broke and your eyes shook, heart thumping in fear.

"W-What's wrong!!" She was holding unto your shoulders panting. You could see the sweat gathered on her forehead.

"There was a hollow attack at the fourth squad barracks. I-I was there talking to Hanataro when it happened. T-They came out of nowhere! There were so many. H-He pushed me out of the way, b-but h-he...he got badly injured. Unohana-taicho says he still hasn't woken up yet. " your body was trembling as you took in the information.

"N-No.." you staggered for a moment, bolting out the door. Rukia watched as you went dashing through the barracks. When you were gone she wiped the tear from the corner of her eyes with a grin.

"Success!"

Jushiro walked back in with a kettle in his hand. "Hmm, where did (Y/N)-chan go?" Rukia brushed it off.

"She had something to take care of. Can I have some tea?" Jushiro nodded with a smile.

"Of course. "

~~~

You pushed your body to go as fast as you could. When you finally got to the fourth squad barracks there was a visible hole in the wall of the building at the med area where patients usually resided. You panicked, rushing up the stairs. You were sprinting down the corridors, trying to get to your destination. You skidded to a stop when you got there.

You almost ripped the door off its hinges trying to get in. When you entered the first thing you saw was Hanataro standing with a few scratches on his face. "Hanataro!!" he turned and you dove into his arms. He stumbled back, surprised at the way your hands wrapped around his neck.

"(Y-Y/N)??" you clenched him tightly.

"I'm sorry!" you cried.

"I-I'm so sorry for what I said!! It was so mean. I-I only said it because I didn't want to admit the truth. " Hanataro couldn't do much but listen as you rambled on. "I-I've loved you for so long and I was too scared to say anything so I-I lied when those reapers asked me. I-I was embarrassed. " Hanataro's body went rigid.

"D-Did she just say that she.." He was dreaming, he had to be. You just kept on going.

"B-But when Rukia said you were attacked by that hollow all I could think about is never getting the chance to tell you, a-all because I was a coward." you wept. Hanataro could feel you shaking against him.

"I love you Hanataro, I love you, I love you!" Hanataro's heart beat increased rapidly at your confession. He pulled back with wide eyes. "You..love me.." you nodded with a smile.

"I love you so much Hanataro!" you confessed. Hanataro's eyes softened. This is what he'd wanted for so long. "I love you too (Y/N)-chan." your eyes started to well up with tears again. You grabbed either side of his cheeks, pressing your lips to his own.

Hanataro's eyes grew wide at the action. He just stood there frozen as you kept your lips pressed to his. When you pulled away his cheeks were cherry red. You didn't seem to really process what you'd done. When you did you pulled away with a heavy blush.

"Ah! G-Gomen!!" you apologized. You lifted your hand, blocking your lips with the back of your palm. Hanataro looked down at his feet, face still flushed.

"I-It's okay.." he mumbled. The both of you just stood there awkwardly for a while. Something finally hit you though.

"W-Wait, Rukia said you were unconscious, how did you recover so quickly from the hollow attack?"

"Hollow attack? I wasn't attacked by a hollow." you gave him a blank look.

"E-Eh?"

"Kurotsuchi-taicho brought a new invention of his, he said it would help charge some of the machines we have here. I guess I tried to charge too many at once because it exploded. " Your eyes moved over to the piece of metal that was smoking on the ground. "Is that so.." He nodded. "Hai!" you smiled, looking at the cute expression on his face.

"You should be more careful, it could have been far worse. " He whined. "(Y/N)-chan don't lecture me." you shook your head at his pout.

"You're my responsibility now so how can I not." you said folding your arms. He looked at you for a few seconds, a smile slowly making its way on his face. He bowed. "Then please take care of me from now on!" you flushed.

"H-Hey no need to bow." you advised rubbing the back of your head bashfully. He stood up straight with a boyish grin. An arrow struck you right in the heart at his expression.

"Damn it..he's definitely going to be the death of me."

#hanataro yamada #friends #tsundere #cute #feelings #protectivereader #love #bleach #fights #soul reapers #soul society #reapers #reiatsu #hanataroxreader #self acceptance #admitting feelings #confession

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tallstars-rewrite · 3 years

Text

Chapter 37

chapter list / previous / next

The park was bigger than Talltail thought it would be. It didn’t quite reach the woods that touched ShadowClan and ThunderClan’s territories, but there were still plenty of trees for cats to hide in. They spent the better part of the day looking and then the next day wandering a bit more, pausing to hunt squirrels when they could. Talltail taught Jake everything he knew about stalking, though they both had a bit of clumsy learning to do as Talltail was out of his element with forest prey like this that had a tendency to escape up trees. They worked out a sort of routine where Jake would creep up and scare a squirrel towards Talltail who would chase it down.

They even came across a decent sized still body of water that Talltail assumed must have been the “duck pond”, complete with several mallard ducks floating lazily across the surface. But still, no trace of familiar scents. Yet despite this, Talltail found to his surprise when they were lounging in the sun that he felt much lighter than he had in moons. Enough that even when he remembered that he’d specifically told Jake they would part ways after arriving at the park, he didn’t do anything to remind his companion of that. Jake did not bring it up either, so they continued on together. Talltail struggled finding the motivation to send the friendly tom back to his housefolk, as he knew he should. Yet, a small part of him began to think...if they couldn’t find any trace of Sparrow here, then there wasn’t any other lead to go on. Suppose he never could find him at all. Maybe, if there was no other choice, he could just stay here with Jake?

But that quiet thought was short-lived. Lounging in the sunset as they took a break, Talltail closed his eyes in a patch of golden fading light. When the sun sank lower, the coolness of the earth seeped into his fur and his mind dropped him into the dark, suddenly feeling as if he were falling. Then once again he was pinned flat under a slab of earth. Something was standing above him. His head was low to the ground, he saw only old, deteriorated paws. His monster was back. He was too afraid to look up into its face. Talltail closed his eyes and waited to feel a hare's blunt edged teeth.

His eyes flew open and he kicked out hard as he scrambled up right with a frightened yowl and caught Jake hard in the side, who yowled back in surprise.

“Ow--! Talltail!? What’s wrong?” Jake's fur was puffed out but he recovered quickly, trying to offer a comforting purr while Talltail shook the vision clear from his head. He was still in one piece. But he was left in a dark mood.

“I’m fine. Sorry. Just a bad dream.” He got up quickly, catching Jake by surprise in his haste. The fear reminded him of what he’d been hiding from. Who do you think you are, stalling like this? You’re doing it on purpose. He hissed at himself. You didn’t come this far just to start a cozy new selfish life for yourself after everything that’s happened.

“We’ve rested long enough,” he turned to Jake. “I need to start looking again. We haven’t fully sniffed out the far side of the pond, maybe there’s some trace over there.”

“Oh, yeah.” Jake shook his fur and yawned. “Sometimes I almost forget you're on some kind of vengeance mission.”

“If you want to call it that, sure,” Talltail replied stiffly. “Which is why I should be resting as little as possible.”

“Can’t we hunt some birds first? Or just watch them? There’s a whole flock in that oak over there.” Jake offered.

Talltail turned to stare at him. “We didn’t come here to look at birds, what are you talking about?”

“I-I just think birds are neat! There’s always time for vengeance later, right?”

Talltail narrowed his eyes at his companion, who blinked back at him innocently.

“Every day lost could be them getting further away. We hunted earlier, you’ll survive. We have to look for scents.”

Jake flattened his ears, “Alright, alright. Looking for scents. I’m coming.”

***

“I think I found something,” Talltail's muzzle was to the ground, nosing around a wet patch of reeds along the pond's muddy edge.

Jake padded up behind him and brushed against his side. “Who is it?”

Talltail pushed through the reed stalks and poked his head under a hollowed out bush hanging over the water. At its base where the soil was more dry were scraps of fur and flattened grass where cats may have been nesting before.

“I think I smell Algernon and Bess. Maybe Mole?” Talltail found it hard to recall their exact scents, as they were always tangled together.

“What about Sparrow?” Jake asked

“I don’t...think so.” Talltail grumbled.

Suddenly there was a rustle and a scrambling sound as something shot out of the nearby bushes. Talltail let his instincts take over and he leapt after the noise, jumping right over Jake as he caught sight of dark scraggly fur. For half a heartbeat, he thought it was Sparrow.

A cat yelped in surprise as he slammed into them and set them rolling. It was not Sparrow, but Talltail recognized the face of one of the scrawny alley cats. The stray landed on his side and raised an unsheathed paw to block his face as Talltail towered over him.

“W-wait! I’m alone, I'm not-- er--no, I shouldn’t have said that,” he stuttered. “I mean, you’re surrounded so you better not hit me again!”

“Oh shut up already!” Talltail snapped. “What is the problem with you cats? I don’t have time to deal with you!”

“Oh, it’s just Roach,” Jake sounded unconcerned. “He’s not a threat by himself.”

“L-look, I’m sorry we tried to kill you, okay? That was rude.” Roach stared up at them pathetically, but with a flash of defiance in his muddy-yellow eyes. “But only because you clan brats tried to do the same!”

“I’m going to say this one more time, so try listening,” Talltail growled. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, there are multiple clans in the forest and if you really have seen clan cats, they aren’t from mine! So sod off, you flea-pelt!”

“Whatever one you're from, you’re all trouble if you're trying to bother the visitors, and they aren’t here anymore anyway!”

Talltail stepped closer. “Did you tell them to leave?”

Roach put up his claws and hissed.

Jake gave Talltail a concerned look as he lashed his tail in agitation. Talltail hesitantly put his claws away, and tried again calmly. “Why are you concerned with the visitors?”

Roach looked away. “Because Bess and them were nice to us...We like having them around, and we said we wouldn’t let cats bully them.”

“I’m not going to bully them, I have no interest in hurting Bess’s family. I only want to talk to the little dark one. He’s not nice at all! I’m just trying to figure out if he was with them.” Roach just glared at him. “I’m not saying anymore! Not spilling anything else, so you’ll just have to kill me! Do it! I’m not scared!” His words were fierce but his trembling fear scent said otherwise. “Sure,” Talltail rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to kill you, don’t be so dramatic. I can follow a scent on my own.”

“Let’s just go then,” Jake said. “We don’t have interest in causing trouble with you or your friends.”

“You only cause trouble!” Roach snarled. “It’s either you or your stinking mutt, that slobbering thing chased me half way here because it doesn’t have the sense to stay on a leash where stupid dogs belong!”

“Wait,” Jake bristled, "Dusty? He chased you? Was he alone?”

“Well he wasn’t tied to anything! Don’t pretend like you didn’t sick him on me on purpose.”

“You know I can’t do that! Oh no, this is terrible!” Jake tore anxiously at the grass under his paws. “He must have dug out of the fence again after I left! He has a terrible sense of direction on his own. He must be so lost and confused! Roach, where--”

But Roach had apparently had enough lying in tension, he sprang up without warning and dashed off into the bushes. Talltail thought about starting after him, sure it would be easy to run the mangy rogue down, but Jake stopped him.

“He won’t be of any help,” he moaned. “I have to find Dusty. He’s out trying to follow me again, and Cris can’t catch him on his own. Talltail I--” he looked up at him with pleading eyes. “I’m so sorry, I know this mission you’re on is important but I have to find where he went. He hasn’t been doing well lately and it’s so much more dangerous for dogs to walk around than it is for us. He can’t hide!”

“Ok,” Talltail was surprised at how easily he responded. The visitors have been warned that someone’s after them and they’re walking away, a voice screamed in his head. But Jake had done so much for him and he looked distraught. How long could it take to find a massive smelly dog? He couldn’t just abandon Jake.

But the nagging voice went on all the same. You are stalling. You don’t even want to complete this mission, because you’re a coward.

I know I am. Talltail relented. But he had to repay Jake after taking up so much of his time. It wasn’t fair to use him and then simply leave while offering nothing back. With that, he continued after Jake as they ran back the way they had come.

***

Jake paced up and down the paths they’d traveled on to get to the park, looking for a trace of Dusty’s scent.

“I’d know it anywhere,” he said firmly. “He was around here! probably trying to find the park…”

Talltail believed it, Dusty’s stench was rather hard to forget. Jake walked at a nervous hurried trot.

“Are you really worried?” Talltail asked. “What animal would try to attack such a big dog?”

“Other dogs, maybe.” Jake said sniffing along the fence “Or a car...He hates them, and sometimes he panics when they come close. He’s gotten out before, but back then he was following me and I stayed with him. I just don’t want him to get completely lost. Especially because he’s been so tired lately, I don’t know how long he can run from anything dangerous!”

Jake really seemed distressed. Talltail tasted the air carefully. Eventually they found it, clear as anything, it smelled like the dog had been pacing around in circles here before heading off along the town edge.

Jake perked up. “It’s recent, if I just follow this, I'm sure he’ll be at the end of it!”

But passed the dog, trailing off into the woods, Talltail caught a different trail as well. His pelt bristled. That’s a fox, I know it is. Dawnstripe had made sure that he memorized every sign of those creatures, and they were perfectly capable of killing a cat that got cornered. He’d only ever seen one at a distance with a Thunderpath between them, and he had no desire to see one closer.

“Jake!” Talltail hissed, “Jake, come over here. Stay close to me.”

Jake looked up quickly at Talltail’s sudden change in tone. “What? What is it?”

A cat's yowl of fear somewhere off in the scraggly treeline interrupted Talltail before he could answer.

“Some cat’s in danger!” Jake gasped. Without a second of hesitation, the kittypet dashed off after the noise, completely abandoning their path.

“Jake!” Talltail called “Don’t go towards it!”

But Jake was already off, and he had no choice but to follow. Just as Talltail feared, the musky doggish stench of fox hit the roof of his mouth so strongly and sudden he nearly gagged on it. Jake dove out of the bushes with Talltail on his heels and there it was, red bushy fur and long pointed muzzle concealing needle sharp teeth glinting under its curled lip. Sharp yellow eyes instantly shot towards the kittypet blundering towards it. Talltail smelled blood and was aware of a small cat crouched not far away, with two others standing near it. The fox had been circling them curiously, trying to decide if it was worth making a dive for the injured prey. But now it’s attention was fully on Jake, who had practically run into the thing.

“Oh, stars--!” Jake gasped, clearly not expecting it to be as close as it was. The fox snapped at him in surprise and Jake just barely managed the wheel back before it could close its jaws on his neck. It grabbed the long fur on his hindquarters and tore a tuft free. Jake tumbled, eyes wide and seemingly with no idea what to do. He scampered back and the fox followed him, darting to the side and looking for somewhere else to bite.

Before it could snap again and get a hold of more than just fur, Talltail yowled and took a heavy swipe at the foxes muzzle, catching it on the nose as it yelped and jumped back. Jake puffed at the fox and growled and swiped as well, but he was clearly terrified and unsure of where to strike. The cats it had cornered puffed their fur and darted at it before leaping back. The fox, apparently liking its odds significantly less with so many cats, quickly turned and scampered away into the woods.

Jake sat up and shook out his fur with a nervous purr. “Well! that was pretty easy.”

Talltail wanted to cuff him on the head as he tried to calm his pounding chest. “Jake you practically ran into its jaws, what were you thinking? If you’d been just a bit slower it could have seriously hurt you!”

“I was thinking it was trying to hurt someone, and they could probably use a distraction? I don’t know, I didn’t think about it that hard!” Jake was clearly more shaken up than he wanted to admit.

Talltail was about to argue further when suddenly he froze as he finally got a look at the two cats who had been blocking the fox from the injured cat. It was unmistakably Algernon and Bess, looking far more frazzled and distressed then Talltail had seen them before. Bess’s light green eyes widened in recognition, and then confusion.

“Tallpaw?” she mewed, “Is...is that you? What in the spirit's name are you doing so far from home?”

“Talltail now,” he corrected, but that was all he could think to say. He was stunned. It couldn’t have been this easy. Had he really found them by accident? I wasn’t expecting it so soon, I thought I’d have time to prepare…. He just stared at the two cats.

“Nevermind that,” Algernon said. “We’re so glad to see you, we heard this cat yowl and saw a fox trying to drag her away, we weren’t sure the two of us were going to be enough to scare it off.” Algernon's paws were still shaking, and Talltail remembered that the tom was clawless. And trying to take on a fox? What, hoping it didn’t call his bluff with useless swipes?

The small injured cat saved him from trying to think of what to say. It wasn’t a cat Tallpaw recognized, but what he did recognize was the toothy grimace, sharp muzzle, and boggy stench. It looked a lot like a ShadowClan apprentice. The small scruffy molly had a bloody bite on her hind leg and she tried to push herself to her paws and dive towards the undergrowth, but she hissed in pain as soon as she put weight on her leg, drawing Bess and Algernon’s immediate attention. “Oh dear, you’re hurt! It’s alright, we only want to help you!” Bess fretted, but the shaking apprentice hissed at her.

“N-no! I don’t need your help, I’m not supposed to--”

Talltail leaped back as another blur of gray fur came charging out of the bushes, her back arched when she landed, pale eyes quickly darting around at the surrounding cats, before they settled on him. Talltail felt a growl in his throat as he recognized the lanky gray molly as Ashheart, one who had tried so hard to terrorize him and Shrewclaw in their apprenticehood. She didn’t keep her gaze on him long as she dashed to the injured apprentice, forcing Bess and Algernon to take a step back.

“Get back, all of you! No one touches her.”

“We saved her, you know!” Jake called out his ears flattened in indignation. “A fox was trying to eat her and very well would have by the time you got here!”

“Jake--” Talltail warned quietly, as Ashheart snarled at him.

Bess dipped her head “We mean you no harm, we truly only wanted to help.”

Ashheart looked sternly down at the apprentice who stared up at her with wide guilty eyes. “You could have been killed, Tanglepaw!” she hissed quietly. “You’re not supposed to come out here alone! Now I have to track down your littermates too!”

Tanglepaw flattened into the ground and Ashheart looked warily up at the cats surrounding her.

“Alright, rogues,” she hissed the word pointedly in his direction, but rather than being angry, Talltail was relieved. It’s better than them thinking WindClan is sending spies beyond our borders.

“I shouldn’t bother doing this but…” She hesitated, not looking away from Talltail. “I don’t know what your game is, deserter, but you’re certainly not safe here. My thanks for this is a warning. Get away from clan ground, because the next patrol that finds you won’t show mercy, especially not to you. If we meet again, the next time will be significantly less pleasant.” With that she nudged the young cat to her paws and, using three legs, the apprentice hopped along with Ashheart into the shade of the trees. “Wait!” Bess called, “we really need to ask you--” but they were already gone.

“Well, that was ominous.” Jake muttered, and he turned to Talltail “Were those...other clan cats?”

“ShadowClan.” Talltail replied stiffly. “They’re up to something they shouldn’t be, I know they are.”

Jake flashed a concerned look to the trees where the cats had vanished and then padded cautiously over to Bess and Algernon. “Are you two alright?”

“Yes,” Bess sighed. “We’re fine, the fox didn’t really have a chance to hurt us. We’re glad you showed up but…” She looked at Talltail, and he saw the hesitance and concern there. “You still haven’t told us what you’re doing all the way out here?”

“I’m not a WindClan cat anymore,” Talltail said quickly, “I’m just a wanderer now, and...um.”

Jake was looking back at him, a narrowed questioning look in his eyes that clearly meant “Alright, now what?”

I have no idea… Talltail thought. Bess and Algernon looked a little on guard. Why wouldn’t they be? Last time I saw them, I was yowling for punishment against one of their companions.

Algernon blinked at him. “So you left? But...why?”

“It’s complicated. And personal,” he replied curtly.

Jake sniffed, clearly a little put off by Talltail’s rudeness.

Algernon glanced at his partner, then Bess took a small step toward him. “Talltail, I understand your view of us may be...tense after the horrible tragedy that occurred. I really can’t tell you how sorry we are for all of it. But...We’re in a bad place. I think those ShadowClan cats have been stalking around us ever since we left, this little one with a bent tail, and others. Always the same bunch. And now Reena, Mole, and Sparrow are all gone!”

Talltail froze. “Wait...What do you mean gone?”

“They’re just...gone.” Bess mewed, her voice was strained and cracked with worry.

Algernon leaned against his mate and continued for her. “Sparrow had been distant for some time, and when he took longer than normal returning to us, Reena and Mole went to look for him. And none of them came back. We’re so worried and we don’t know what to do. Do you think ShadowClan would have kidnapped them? Is that something they do?”

“I don’t know the clans to take prisoners very often, and certainly not non-clan cats. I haven’t seen any of them.” Talltail said. He was trying to think of what to do now himself and he felt frustration clawing at his belly. If not even they knew where Sparrow was, he could be anywhere!

“Maybe they just got lost?” Jake suggested.

Algernon shook his head. “Mole never gets lost. Something must have happened!”

“Whatever it is, we can’t help.” Talltail said brusquely as he turned to pad away. “Come on Jake. None of us should stay here. I don’t know what ShadowClan is doing, but I’m sure they will make good on their threats if they are around here. We’re too close to their border. You two should stay out of their way.”

“What?” Jake stared after him in dismay. “You’re just leaving?”

“What I’m looking for isn’t here."

“Talltail!” Jake sounded angry, and Talltail turned, meeting his gaze defiantly. Jake glared back at him. “These cats haven’t done anything wrong. We have to do something!”

“Do what? I can’t take on ShadowClan anymore than they can. I have to focus on my mission.”

Algernon and Bess were looking helplessly at each other. Jake was still glaring and Talltail was the first to blink away from his gaze. Unfortunately he did have a point. Reena and Mole weren’t bad cats. As angry as he was, there was only one cat it was directed at. And now, he was starting to have an idea that made him even angrier.

“Look, I’ll…” Talltail scraped at the ground in frustration. “I’ll see if I can track their scent. But you guys...You’ll be killed if you're caught in ShadowClan’s path. You’re no good to your family dead.”

“But we can’t just leave them behind!” Algernon fretted.

“Keep an eye out and hope they find their way back to you. I’ll try my best to get to the bottom of whatever's happening. If I’m right, I may be able to find Reena and Mole as well.”

At this point he wanted to get away from the two gentle loners pleading gaze as quickly as possible. He couldn’t actually promise them anything, and lying made his stomach twist in a knot. His heart was pounding. I didn’t want to get involved in clan drama! I don’t want to make promises to Reena’s family. I just want to find Sparrow!

Now more than ever he wanted to find Sparrow. Because his suspicions before that the rogue had something to do with ShadowClan were even stronger. Ashheart clearly didn’t recognize or trust Bess and Algernon. That almost certainly meant Reena wouldn’t have anything to do with the ShadowClan warrior either, he could never imagine that kind molly going behind her parents' backs. But Reena and Mole followed Sparrow, and then they both suddenly vanished? If it was possible Sparrow had even deceived his own family and gotten them tangled up in something dangerous...

The visitors were too naïve to see the evil in cats. A dark thought slowly began to surface in the back of Talltail’s mind. Maybe getting rid of Sparrow for good would even be doing them a favor.

But what about Jake? Talltail's focus had gotten twisted up ever since he’d found his old friend again. He’d gotten distracted, even though he set out on this journey promising himself he wouldn’t. He looked miserably behind him as the bright ginger tom came bounding up. I shouldn’t even have brought Jake this far...How can I take him any further into possible danger?

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#FRU37 #chapter 37

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nightshade-minho · 4 years

Text

-Nightmare- (8)

Warnings: none, really

Word Count: 2k+

Minho looked in the mirror. His eyes were red and his face was puffy, tears streaking his cheek. He looked pathetic. Weak.

He’d gone to your room. All your stuff was still there. He opened your drawers, realizing some of your clothes were missing.

There was nothing but anger in his heart as he pulled on his jacket, grabbing his phone and leaving the house with his heart heavy and weighed down.

He didn’t exactly know which friend you’d be staying with, though he had a few ideas. You only had one female friend, so he called her up.

“Hi, Chaeyoung?”

“Oh...Minho?”

“Yeah. It’s me.” He hated how shaky his voice sounded. “I was just wondering if Y/n ever came by.”

There’s a pause of hesitation on the other end. All he could hear was some shuffling and some random sounds.

“P-please.” He sniffed. More shuffling.

“Chae, please don’t answer, I-”

The call cut off, and he stared at his phone. That was definitely your voice that he’d heard.

Minho knew where the girl lived, since he sometimes dropped you off at hers. He tried to mentally recall the address as he made his way out, getting into his car.

On the way there, Minho’s grip was tight on the steering wheel. His head felt a little better after taking Tylenol, but his heart felt like it was trapped in an iron maiden.

He’d had sex. With you.

He rubbed his temples as he finally reached, stumbling out of the car and making his way upstairs.

He stood in front of the door, taking a deep breath before he knocked on your door.

When you finally opened, he felt like there was something stuck in his throat as you opened your mouth a little, closing it.

“M-minho...”

He couldn’t speak. Everything still felt so fucking raw. Cause there you were in front of him, your oversized sweater falling off your shoulder, neck still adorned with the hickeys he’d left the night before. It was all too painful.

“Y/n, we need to talk.”

You shook your head, eyes wet as you stepped back a little, trying to close the door. He stopped you, sticking his foot in the doorway.

“Please? Just...”

You paused, eyes narrowed. “What more do you have to say to me?”

“Please, I just...you can’t just leave like this! We’ve known each other for sixteen years, you can’t just go-”

“Exactly! Sixteen years of friendship, and at the end of it all I was just another girl for your bed.”

“W-what?”

You bit your lip, the tears flowing freely now. “I’ve never been the special one. And I realize now that it was foolish to think that you would ever see me in such a light. Once upon a time, I was content being your friend, but now I’m not anymore.”

“You’re not just a friend. You’re my best friend.” Minho didn’t know why he couldn’t just confess to you already. He just couldn’t say the words he desperately wanted to let out.

You stayed silent, watching him as he opened his mouth again, struggling to get out what he wanted to say.

“You’re my closest friend. You’re not just another girl for my bed, I promise. You were right, last night was a mistake. But our friendship isn’t.” He sniffed. “It’ll never happen again. Neither of us remember it very well, right? We’ll just forget about it. Just...come back home.”

You watched, your face passive as you comprehended his words. It may be true that Minho couldn’t remember last night, but you hadn’t drunk as much as him, and hence you could remember some bits. The memories were fresh in your mind.

“I don’t know...things feel too different. I’ll stay here for a little longer...I need space right now. You have to understand that sex might be a simple thing for you, but it isn’t for me. It isn’t just a pastime, or something I can just forget.”

Minho nodded. “I understand that, but-”

He was cut off by his phone ringing. He took it out, glancing at the caller ID. It was an unknown number, but it looked vaguely familiar. He went to disconnect, but you shook your head. “Answer.”

He sighed, lifting the phone to his ear as he answered.

“Hi, Minho, miss me?” He heard a giggle on the other end, causing a shiver to run through him.

“It’s Rina.” He mouthed at you. Your eyes widened a little. “Put it on speakerphone.” You whispered, moving a little closer.

He did so, holding the phone out.

“Hi, Rina. How...how are you?”

“I’m alright. How are you?” Another giggle. “I’m guessing you had a good night, judging from the way you two were making out before you left the party.”

He chuckled nervously, glancing at you. “Y-yeah.”

“Hmm...I’m gonna be honest, I had my doubts about you two at first. I’m sorry about my threat. I understand now. It would have been pretty shitty of you to cheat on your girlfriend...so I’m alright with having been humiliated at the party.”

Minho didn’t say anything, fear in his face as he made eye contact with you. You were biting your lip, confusion etched across your features.

“I admit I found it a little suspicious at first. You two were just friends, up until the time I made that threat? It was unusual. Huge coincidence.” She laughed. “But I was being immature. I’m really sorry. To make it up to you, I was thinking of inviting you two to a dinner! Juyeon’ll be there too, so it’ll kinda be like a double date. Sound fun?”

The two of you looked at each other. Was she being sincere? It was hard to discern. Her voice was too sickly sweet. Was there something fishy going on?

“We should agree.” You mouthed.

Minho raised an eyebrow. “But it sounds too fishy!” He whisper-hissed.

“It’ll be fishier if we say no.” You whispered back.

Minho rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the girl still rambling away. “Okay, Rina. Looking forward to it.”

“Not to brag, but I’m a pretty good cook. I can’t wait! Bye, see you tomorrow evening at Juyeon’s apartment, okay? I’ll send you the address...or just ask Y/n, I’m sure she’s been there before.”

The call cuts off. The two of you straightened up.

You sighed. “I guess we have somewhere to go tomorrow.”

Minho looks over at you, inhaling as he pocketed the phone. “Are you sure? I thought you said you needed space.”

“Yeah. I did, but I don’t want anything to happen to you. That girl’s lowkey dangerous, and I don’t want either of us to get on her bad side. I still care about you, but you have to realize that last night definitely changed things between us. I need time to rethink our relationship.”

Minho knew that you thought that he didn’t truly understand the weight of last night’s event. You thought sex was just a hobby for him...and it was. However, he’d felt things last night that he’d never felt before, and he wanted to explore those feelings. The sex last night wasn’t something mindless or hollow. He’d been completely invested through it. His heart had been throbbing as much as, if not more than, his cock. But there was a sense of doom hanging over him...he still harbored the fear that you hated him.

“Y/n...it was just sex.”

You looked up at him, shaking your head, “And that’s exactly the problem.” You whispered.

He didn’t respond, shifting from one foot to the other. An awkward silence hung between the two of you.

A minute later, you spoke up. “Fine...I’ll come home.”

Minho looked up, his eyes wide. “You will?!”

You nodded, eyes downcast. At this point, you’d given up. It wasn’t like you could blame Minho. Sex was in his nature. You were the stupid one, to have thought that he could possibly feel for you the same way you did. He was your best friend, at the end of the day, and that was all he would be. You could learn to accept that. You would.

Minho’s smile was wide, and it made your heart melt. You mentally scolded yourself.

“Oh, by the way, why’d she say that you’ve been to Juyeon’s before?”

You rolled your eyes. “We were project partners. We met up at each other’s places to work on it.”

“I don’t remember him coming over.”

“That’s cause you’re never home anyway. Just wait here for a few minutes, I’ll go get my stuff.”

You went back inside, leaving Minho to wait outside as you grabbed your bag and thanked Chaeyoung for letting you stay.

As Minho waited, he felt himself calm down a bit. Yeah, you were angry at him, but it would pass. Just like it always did. He knew it wasn’t fair. He kept hurting you, and you kept forgiving him...you honestly deserved better than him.

“I’m in love with Y/n.” He repeated the phrase in mind, chuckling a bit. It felt so unreal...but it was reality. He wasn’t scared anymore, though. After last night, he knew what he was feeling was too real for him to ignore. He was deeply, madly in love with you. Always had been.

But there was still some residual fear in his heart. Even if he could work up the courage to confess, he didn’t know if you’d react positively. He’d been an asshole. Why would you trust anything he says? He’d screwed you over and apologized a thousand times. So many promises to ‘change’...but he never did.

“You have to try.” He told himself, just as you came back out. You’d changed your shirt, but the marks he’d left were still clearly visible. It made his heart throb, knowing that they were his. It excited him to think of how your clothes were covering all the other marks he’d left on your body. His personal favorites were the ones he’d sucked onto your boobs and waist. He-

“Earth to Minho?”

He snapped back to attention. “Wha? Oh, yeah. Come on.” You followed him to his car.

As he drove back, he glanced at you. “I’m sorry, Y/n.”

You let out a noncommittal hum as he looked out the window. “That word coming out of your mouth has lost all meaning, Minho.”

He inhaled deeply as he reached the apartment. “This time, I really am.”

You got out, staying silent as you made your way upstairs.

He followed, frowning as you went straight to your room as soon as he unlocked the door.

“Wait, please. We should talk-”

“Sorry, I have an assignment due. We’ll talk later.”

You smiled apologetically at him before shutting the door. Minho groaned, plopping down on the couch as he threw his head back in frustration. He needed to let out his feelings for you. After years of them being buried, now that he’d finally realized them, they were bubbling up, eager to escape.

His eyes landed on your tattered shirt from last night. Picking it up, he winced at the ruined material. Jesus, he must have really been out of control. He wished he could remember.

He knew he owed you a better apology. You deserved to know his true feelings. It didn’t matter if you rejected him...this was his chance to be a decent best friend. He didn’t want to lose you...didn’t want to scare you off. But he knew that if he kept it all in, he’d just end up hurting you more.

He sighed, going to the balcony to get some fresh air. He saw your guitar lying on your chair, a soft smile appearing on his face as he recalled all the times you played to him.

Yeah, he was scared. He was well aware that his confession would change everything. But he would hold on to these memories, no matter what happens. You were more than just a best friend. You were his home. After a long day at the dance studio, you were all that could cheer him up.

You, playing your guitar. You, getting mad when he ‘sang better than you’ despite not having had any vocal lessons. You, baking cookies for him and nearly burning the kitchen down in the process. You, Gyu in hand, standing in his doorway after having had a particularly terrifying nightmare. You...cuddling up against him as he stroked your hair, calming you down.

He hated himself for forgetting about his plans with you that night. He never wanted to hurt you, not when you were the only one that was always there for him. Him, not his dick or his status. Yet, hurting you was all that he seemed to be doing, lately.

He sat in your chair, taking your little lyric notebook and reading through it, flipping until he got to his favorite one, the one titled ‘Nightmare’.

The song always calmed him down, for some reason. The lyrics felt so profound and raw...he could feel the music rooting itself deep into his heart. Every single time you played him that song, his heart would tighten and tears would prick his eyes. He didn’t know why.

The afternoon sun was hot, but there was still a light breeze tickling his face as he closed his eyes, humming the tune in his head.

You watched from the living room, hands on the french door leading to the balcony as you sighed, hating the fact that your heart was still pounding. Listening to the melody that meant so much to you leaving his lips hurt. He had no idea it was about him...and you had to try your best to keep it that way.

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bisexualdaemon · 4 years

Text

mad woman (nessian)

a/n: In which Nesta copes and Feyre interjects

hello! again, new here ☺️ this kind of just...happened? the idea came upon me late talking with @harryandmolly idk anyways hope you enjoy! if you don’t like modern AUs then this probably isn’t for you, but if you’re into that sort of thing and all the warnings that go with it then I would love to hear what you think!

tw: angst, coping with death, sex work, language

original art by the incomparable charlie bowater

Things were great until they weren’t.

Nesta Archeron had been engaged. She had a father who loved her and a sister she adored. Until the plane crash. Until a faulty navigational system sent her fiancé, her father, and her sister into the side of a mountain on the way to her destination wedding.

She had gone to Hybern early, to get settled and calm her nerves, to plan around the security that Feyre had hired so that Rhys could attend the wedding. Nesta had told her not to bother, Rhys could stay in Velaris for all she cared. She’d gone and set it all up anyway. But it had all exploded when Nesta got the call that her world had ended and all she had left was a sister she resented and a brother-in-law with too high a profile. She was a tragic headline. A fucking media circus.

High Lord Rhysand’s sister-in-law left at the altar in tragic plane crash.

The press camped outside her Velaris studio for weeks. They’d only left when she had thrown a maelstrom of empty glass bottles out of her windows at them. Empty because she’d come back to Velaris and crawled inside a whiskey bottle and stayed there. She might be more whiskey than person now. The days were passing at a rate she couldn’t gauge anymore. Had it been hours or days or months since she’d picked up the phone in the middle of placing name cards on tables in the reception hall? She didn’t particularly care. Everyone who mattered was dead and being drunk was better than counting the minutes since her future had evaporated.

A knock sounded at the door.

Nesta removed the eye mask she was wearing and squinted at her phone. 7:15 AM. She’d been up all night again, had just laid down to try and sleep. Who the fuck was at her door at this hour?

She knew but she opened the door anyway.

Feyre Archeron, High Lady of the Night Court, was in the hallway looking worried. Well, Nesta assumed she was looking worried. She could only see Feyre’s furrowed eyebrows between the oversized sunglasses and the wide-brimmed sun hat. She had wrapped her red-gold hair, twin to Nesta’s own color, into a low chignon to hide it away from prying eyes. A disguise. Nesta snorted. Feyre Archeron could be noticed in this city by a blind man a hundred yards down a busy avenue. It was the way she carried herself, the easy confidence. No one could mistake her for anyone but their High Lady.

“What do you want?” Nesta crossed her arms over her chest, blocking the view into her apartment.

“Well, to start, a little respect for the person who has been footing your liquor bill for the last eight months.” Her red lips were turned down at the corners, tight. She angled her head past Nesta’s shoulder and crinkled her nose, “God, I don’t even need to see in there to know what it must look like. I can smell it from here. And I can see you.”

Nesta kept her face a mask of annoyance but considered how she must look. Compared to Feyre’s heavy cream sweater and perfectly tailored tan pants, anyone would look slovenly but Nesta knew she'd let herself go.

A while ago, she’d taken to wearing Tomas’ shirts to bed. Then eventually she wasn’t getting out of bed so it was all the time, changing only when she found the strength to shower. Today’s shirt—more like this week’s shirt if she was being honest with herself—was an old striped dress shirt, one Tomas had maybe worn twice with a suit. It now had several stains from whiskey and whatever takeout she had ordered last night. She couldn’t quite remember. Chinese? Greek?

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Her marriage was supposed to be one of convenience. They had been friends, had both gotten older and then tossed in the towel on dating. Tomas needed a cover for a lifestyle his parents forbade and Nesta...well Nesta wanted to be comfortable. Nesta wanted her sister to stop meddling and leave her alone. At least, she thought she did.

But, no one had known. No one except Elain.

It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter.

Her hair hadn’t been washed in days, it was matted in some places, stuck to her face in others. She knew her eyes were hollow, sunken in and lacking that fire people saw when they looked at her. She’d been avoiding her own reflection for weeks, had even covered the mirror by the door. Months ago, apparently. Eight months.

Had it really been that long? Had she really been moving from bottle to bottle, takeout container to takeout container, for eight whole months? She’d barely left the apartment, had lost her job, happy to exploit Feyre’s seemingly unending pity. Pity she guessed had run out.

Today.

She didn’t care about that either.

“Come all this way to chide me, dear sister?” Nesta curled her lips as she moved aside to let Feyre through. Might as well let her see.

“Thank you.” Her sister breezed into the little sitting area and stopped dead.

Her eyes scanned the room, marking the recycling bin first, overflowing with empty glass bottles. All different labels. Whatever Nesta could find quickest. Then the kitchen counters, filled with boxes of crackers and empty ramen noodle packages, cans of tuna and an open jar of peanut butter, anything that could be quickly consumed with minimal effort. She didn’t want to die, but she hadn’t exactly been concerned with living either.

At last her eyes darted to the corner, over by the window, where a white dress hung from a hunting knife that had been punched through the wall. Straight through the center of the sweetheart neckline. Nesta had lost count of the weeks it had been there. A reminder. A memorial. Little circular burns littered the fishtail skirt, remnants of late nights with too much booze and an ashtray full of half-smoked blunts still on the windowsill.

“Oh, Nesta.” Feyre’s hand came up to cup her mouth. Nesta raised her chin, refusing to feel reprimanded. “I’m sending Alis this afternoon.”

“I can look after myself,” Nesta hissed through her teeth.

“Clearly,” Feyre threw her arms wide and turned in a circle, “you cannot. You know I came here hoping you were getting better. I gave you space, knew you blamed me for what happened. At least partially. But it’s time, Nesta. I lost them too. But I don’t have the luxury of drinking and smoking my way into oblivion on my sister’s dime.”

“Is this just about the money?” Nesta asked incredulously, “I’ll fucking pay you back if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“No, no,” Feyre brushed a lock of hair out of her face, frustrated, “it’s not the money. I don’t care about the money. Neither does Rhys. We just want you to come back to the land of the living.”

“Ah, yes. The royal We.” Nesta sat abruptly on her sunken couch and leaned forward, not caring that she was just wearing a pair of underwear beneath the oversized shirt, “how is dearest Rhys? High Lording as well as ever I presume. Now with better reasons than ever to hate me.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” she said too quickly, wringing her fingers for a moment before she whispered, “we...we missed you at the funerals.”

Nesta’s blood ran cold. Her eyes swam with tears that wouldn’t fall.

“I know why you didn’t show,” Feyre couldn’t look at her, “I almost understand it...but we still missed you. Father was interred with full honors of the Night Court. I’m having a garden planted for Elain up at the estate. You should come see it when you’re ready.”

Nesta really needed a drink. Feyre needed to leave. She couldn’t do this. Not now. Not today. Not ever.

“Get out.”

“Nesta—”

“Get out.” Nesta’s voice was low, lethal.

“Fine,” the High Lady voice was back in full force, “I only really came to give you this.” She pulled out what looked like a business card from her freshly pressed pant pocket, “this might seem...forward. But, I think it might help you. Rhys and I use the service sometimes when we’re looking for something different. I know you won’t go see someone. This might be a different kind of therapy. Tell her I sent you, she’ll know what to do.”

“Fine, fine,” Nesta took the card from her, hoping it would get her to leave faster, “get out.”

“Nesta,” Feyre stopped and took a breath, her hand wrapped around the doorknob, “please do be discrete.”

Nesta furrowed her brow, but nodded. She had been, for the most part. Except on nights she was too blitzed to remember her own name, let alone that her sister was High Lady of this region.

“I’m still sending Alis,” Feyre wrinkled her nose again as she opened the door and strolled out. And that was that. No goodbye. They hadn’t ever been good at those.

Nesta blinked at the door, the apartment suddenly feeling small and cramped. She turned over the card in her hand. It had only a name and a number. AMREN. 202-555-0187. She flicked it onto the table. Whatever, she thought as she sauntered over to the kitchen and took a swig from the nearest whiskey bottle.

↞↠

“Ms. Archeron.”

“Yes?” The tone of the man’s voice made her drop the place card she had been holding.

“There’s been an accident. A plane crash,” he hesitated. Her eyes stopped seeing. Her body shivered with a bone-rattling chill despite the summer sun streaming into the room through the open windows. They couldn’t be—

“Say it.” Her voice was a breath on the wind.

“There were no survivors.”

She didn’t hear the rest. Someone was screaming. A crash, glass breaking, warmth sliding down her leg. A sharp, metallic smell in the air. She couldn’t hear them calling her name, couldn’t feel their fingers gripping her skin, feel the pressure of the towel collecting the blood from the gash in her leg.

A plane crash, he’d said. No survivors.

Tomas was dead.

Her father was dead.

Elain…she had just planted flowers for spring.

A fresh scream ripped from her throat.

↞↠

She woke up with it echoing in her ears, heart pounding. Wrenching the fresh sheets off her clammy skin, she felt for the scar on her thigh, catapulting her back into the present. Nesta hadn’t let them stitch it for days, had wanted to remember. It had almost festered. Feyre had held her down while they numbed and sutured. Most of those days were lost now, either to shock or sleep, she didn’t know. It hadn’t taken long for the drinking to start.

Her head was pounding. Alis had stormed the apartment hours earlier, tut-tutting about the stale stench, throwing open every window. Nesta actually appreciated the fresh air. She didn’t appreciate the old woman’s silent appraisal of her ruined wedding dress.

“Don’t touch it,” Nesta had snapped. Alis had tut-tutted some more, cleaning as she went, but she left the dress alone.

Now, with a clean apartment and nothing to keep her company but her own self-pity, she laid spread-eagle in her bed that felt too big in clothes that felt too clean. Nothing matched her insides anymore. The small, decrepit thing inside of her that shrivelled that day and rejected everything still living. Even herself. She had never been a particularly warm person, but Elain, sweet and beautiful Elain, had made her care about something outside of herself.

She got up to find something to dull her head. A bottle of ibuprofen sat on the coffee table, next to a decanter of scotch. She washed the pills down with the brown liquor and sat on the edge of the sofa, her head in her hands.

The silence pressed her on her eardrums. An oppressive lack of sound, only the barest of sounds audible on the street. Too quiet. For the first time in months it was too quiet. Her head shot up and focused, eyes darting to the card neatly placed in the corner of the table.

Amren.

What had Feyre meant, “a different kind of therapy”? Hell would have to freeze over before Nesta crawled onto a couch to talk about her feelings, Feyre had admitted as much. So what was this?

She picked up the card and flipped it over. Simple, white, just the number in embossed black. The curiosity was going to kill her if she didn’t just call the number. She reached for her phone, hauled out from between the couch cushions by Alis earlier. It had been dead for weeks. She’d given up on ignoring the condolences calls and just let the battery drain. Probably why Feyre had shown up yesterday unannounced. She swiped past all of the missed call and voicemail notifications and pulled up the keypad.

It only rang once.

“Yes?” A clipped, cold voice answered the phone.

“Uhh, is this Amren?”

“Speaking,” her voice didn’t soften, “can I help you?”

“My sister gave me your card,” Nesta didn’t like this woman. She wracked her brain to think of how this person could help her, especially when she didn’t particularly want anyone’s help.

“And who, my dear,” Nesta could hear the snide smile in Amren’s voice, “is your sister?”

“Feyre,” Nesta huffed, “Feyre Archeron.”

“Oh, Feyre darling! Why didn’t you say so?” Amren warmed immediately. Well, at least to a level above stone cold. “Yes, Feyre told me about you.”

“You must have read—”

“I don't read the news, dear girl,” Amren said, flippant. “I have someone perfect for you. I will send him. Already have your address.”

God, she really needed to have a conversation with Feyre about boundaries. Who is she sending?

“Who are you sending?” Nesta had not been sober long enough for this. Her brain wasn’t firing quick enough to deal with whoever this person was sending to her apartment.

“His name is Cassian. He’ll be at your apartment in two hours.”

Two hours?!

“I can’t have anyone in my apartment in two hours! What is this??”

“We call it therapy,” just like Feyre had, “you don’t need to do anything to prepare.”

“But I don’t even—” The line went dead.

Nesta stared at her phone. How could I prepare if I don’t know what to prepare for?

↞↠

Two hours later, Nesta was pacing. Nervous. She was rarely nervous but she was also rarely unprepared. This felt like a bad omen, like suspense in a horror film. Like this Cassian might jump out of the shadows at any moment from some secret portal.

She had washed her hair but no makeup. She had put on leggings but no real pants. There were concessions she was willing to make and others she wasn’t. It didn’t matter that they were only concessions to her own pride. Feyre got one opportunity to meddle in Nesta’s life, one opportunity to try and control how she coped with losing everything. Nesta would endure it in her own home, in her bare feet, or she wouldn’t endure it at all.

An assertive knock at the door made her jump.

Her heart thundered. She hadn’t talked to a man in months, let alone been in a small space with one. Now there was one at her door. She padded across her expensive rug, smoothing her hair as she went. Her hand gripped the doorknob, giving herself a second to stop shaking. Breathe in, breathe out. She jerked the door open only to be left utterly speechless.

The most beautiful man she’d ever seen was leaning on the door frame, forearms crossed over his massive chest.

“Nesta?” one corner of his full mouth curved upward. He inclined his head behind her left shoulder after she nodded. “Gonna let me in?”

“Why should I?” She challenged, angling her chin up at him.

“Because,” his shoulder length black hair slid into his face as his towering frame looked down at her. He came closer and held her chin between his rough fingers, “you’re at least a little curious about what I’m doing here.”

Nesta ripped her face from his hands and took a step away from him. His hazel eyes stripped her bare. How does he do that? He appraised her frankly, taking in her sloppily thrown together appearance. The baby hairs that clung to the side of her face, unable to stay in her top knot. Her soft curves that the oversized t-shirt she wore only hinted at. All the way down to her toes, the cracked polish left over from her wedding manicure, just a couple of splotches of color left.

His gaze sent a warmth through her. She tried to will it away, send it back to the hell she belonged in. Shaking her head, she stuck him with a glare.

“Fine,” she stepped aside, “come in and tell me what you’re doing here so I can tell you to get out.”

He walked in smoothly, his gray slacks gripping his toned thighs with each stride. Too casual, Nesta thought, for a therapist, especially with his white shirt open at the collar and rolled to his elbows. Not that she actually believed whatever this was even approached therapy.

He stopped in the center of Nesta’s living room and turned, giving the place as detailed a once-over as he had given her. His eyes only paused briefly on the wedding dress still hanging in the corner, but he faced her again as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

“So,” he took up so much space as he spoke, too big, too much life for this apartment that had only contained her hollow soul for so long, “everyone up to this point has referred to this appointment as therapy, correct?”

“Yes,” Nesta replied, curt. “But you’re no therapist, are you, Cassian?”

He snorted, a challenge to her fire temper. She didn’t like to be mocked and somehow he knew that. “No, I’m no therapist.”

“I’m what is referred to in the circles you run in as an escort, a friend, of sorts.” He looked her dead in the eye. No shame, no fear. Just a professional. “We call it therapy, first and foremost for discretion, but also because I’m here to make you feel better. Feel alive again. In whatever form that might take.”

Nesta stiffened. Her mouth dropped open. No. “My sister sent me a hooker? You’re telling me that, my sister, the High Lady of the Night Court, sent me a hooker?!”

She could barely keep up with the 100 mile an hour thoughts racing through her head. It wasn’t long before the pacing started again. Feyre said she uses the service sometimes...with Rhys?! She maybe could have guessed that her sister and her ass of a husband were freaky but prostitutes?! Couldn’t they just ask someone?

Nesta, please do be discrete, she’d said as she walked out the door. She guessed paying for silence was easier than risking a secret. Money is always the best form of currency.

Well, I guess I fucking know why. And she set this up for me?! What in hell’s fire did she think she was doing?

Cassian just stood there while her brain worked, while it exploded with all of this new information. So still, a statue compared to her frantic pacing. He must deal with this a lot. But wait, don’t people usually know what they’re asking for?!

“You’ve never–“ she couldn’t finish the question out loud. Sharing was something foreign to Nesta even when she wasn’t talking about sexual partners.

“No,” he shook his head, “Amren wouldn’t have sent me here if I had. She just told me the context of the visit.”

“So, you’re here,” Nesta stopped in front of him, “to have sex with me?” The words came out a whisper. They sounded so foreign, so ridiculous.

“I’m here to help you.” He took a step toward her. The walls came down fast.

“And why do you think you can help me?” The words cut through the space like a knife. Accusatory, incredulous, they almost stung passing over her vocal cords.

“Because, dear Nesta,” he took another step toward her, and another, “I’m very good at helping people.”

The warmth in her blood returned and warred with the acid coursing through her veins, the hate. It came raging back from this morning, from the past months, from ten minutes ago when this cocky prick knocked on her door. He was staring again, close enough to have to look down at her, just an inch or two from touching.

“I don’t need help from a high-dollar whore,” she spat. The only sign that she’d hit her mark was a faint twitch in his eyebrow.

“I’ve been called worse, sweetheart,” he drawled. “But let’s get one thing straight. I think you need help more than you’d ever admit. I don’t think you’ve taken a breath since then. I read the papers. A beloved dead sister. Absent from the funerals. You blame yourself for not being there, for not dying with them. The guilt warms your bed at night while you lie awake, as much a part of you as the alcohol that twinges your breath. It’s become so familiar you don’t remember what it’s like without it. Who would Nesta Archeron be without that dark stain on her conscience following her like a storm cloud? Will all those liquor bottles I saw outside answer that question for you? Will that tattered wedding dress?”

“How dare–“ she felt the door press against her back, unconsciously moving with him while he lashed at her burning soul, fire for fire.

“Oh, I dare,” he continued, planting his hands on the door behind her, trapping her with his eyes. “Because take it from someone who knows, when you decide to wake up and live with what you have left instead of existing with everything you’ve lost, there may not be anything left to live with. And trust me, guilt makes a very lonely bedfellow.”

Nesta had barely blinked this whole time, refusing to let him have that victory. Even if everything he’d said had hit home. Even if everything he’d said had flayed her open and raked her insides across the coals. She still burned with that unyielding rage.

“Is that what you say to all the girls that pay for your time?” she asked, cocking her head to the side. She was close enough to smell him, the warm spice of clove and sandalwood with a distinctly male musk. It was intoxicating. It was infuriating.

“Some. Some of the men, too. I’m an equal opportunity tough lover.”

She swallowed hard. He was close enough that if she moved an inch his hair might brush her cheek. “Is that what this is? Tough love? For someone you just met?”

“It’s the truth,” his breath tickled her face, the tension crackling like static electricity around them, “isn’t it?”

He sounded tentative for the first time, like maybe he’d overstepped. Is it really so obvious?

“Did Feyre pay you to say those things?” Or were they just written so plainly on her face?

“Nooo,” he said, lower than before, gentler, raising one of his hands like he might stroke her cheek. She cursed herself silently for hoping. He came closer then, his lips a hair’s breadth away from her ear, “Feyre paid me to fuck you senseless.”

Goddamn him. Fire shot into her veins. Not the simmering fury of her anger but something deeper, hotter, pooling in her core. Her breath caught in a little gasp and he smiled. A wide, full grin with teeth that made him look more predator than man.

Her body was a traitor, but it made no difference. She was already burning in hell.

Cassian held still, letting her make the next move. Part of her wanted to make him stand there forever, punish him for what he said, what he knew about her, daring to say what no one else would with just one look. A different part of her wanted to rip him apart.

“Come on, Nesta,” a prince of cats toying with his prey, “show me that fi–“

Her lips crashed against his. God, he was big. She reached around him, fingers tensed to claw at his back, and savored the muscles and sinews that made up the terrain. He pressed her into the door. His hands cupped her face, so gentle for a kiss that was anything but. Flames licked her skin everywhere he touched, at every point their bodies connected through clothing.

He leaned and gripped and suddenly she was taller than him, her legs wrapped around his middle, his fingers pressed into the curve of her ass. She gripped the sides of his face and guided him to the side, forcing herself deeper, her tongue brazenly exploring his mouth. He even tasted wild, like fresh mint and adrenaline. Her heart beat in her ears, deafening over the silence of the apartment. He moaned, so deep it vibrated in her chest.

Nesta broke first, pupils blown and breath ragged.

“Finally shut you up?” she asked, sagging back against the door, her head falling against the wood with a low thud.

He….well, he growled. There was no other word for the sound that rippled through his whole body and found a home between her legs. Her toes curled and she thanked every god that he couldn’t see.

“Pretty little acid tongue,” he pushed them off the door and walked her toward the bed, almost tripping twice over the plush rug. Nesta didn’t notice. She was too busy tearing at the buttons down Cassian’s chest. Each one revealed inch after inch of smooth golden skin. Licks of black ink stretched from his shoulders, mostly hidden by more shirt. She huffed, trying to shove it off, but instead caught his nipple by accident with her nails.

His nostrils flared as he hissed and dropped her unceremoniously on the mattress. She bounced, breathless. Dangerously close to a giggle. Traitor. She schooled her features back to bored disdain. The only hint of lust was the glassy haze in her vision, honed in on Cassian’s bare chest.

He had removed his shirt while she had been distracted by her traitorous body, discarded it somewhere above her. The black inked lines Nesta had seen stretched around his shoulders and down his arms in dark whorls and spirals. The tattoo was almost feminine in its pure decoration, a stark contrast to his cut biceps. It was beautiful.

He was beautiful.

“Careful, Nesta,” he chided, “someone might think you like what you see.”

She gave him a filthy gesture. A deep, rumbling laugh escaped him as he took a step closer, his fingers grazing the outer seams of her leggings. From her ankle to her knee, where he stopped to make circles. He curved around her knee and gripped her legs, tugging her to the edge of the bed. The palms of his hands burned her skin straight through her leggings. He hadn’t tried to remove her clothes. She couldn’t decide if it was a tease or an insult. Probably both.

“Are you just going to talk?” she cocked an eyebrow at him, “or are you going to do something productive with that mouth?”

His eyes narrowed, “are you sure that’s what you want?”

She wanted him. Damn her, she wanted him so bad she could barely stand to look at him. The guilt roiled in her stomach, that she should take pleasure while everyone she’d loved could no longer. He’d offered her help, but it would be her damnation. No, this was just a distraction. No amount of distraction could bring back Tomas, or her father, or Elain.

Light from the city outside shifted and spread into the corner drawing her eye. The dress. Her wedding dress. In the night shadows, the blunt burns looked like angry, gaping voids. They whispered to her as she stared. Traitor, traitor, traitor.

I’m here to help you. His words were poison. Bred from a kind of hope only Feyre, with her perfect life, could ever have again after what they had lost. Her want for Cassian’s body burned her from the inside, stoked the fires of the self-inflicted hell she’d cast herself into. Nothing more than a catalyst. She could take his body and burn for doing so, but she would not accept his help.

“Cassian,” Nesta’s voice didn’t belong to her. She pulled her t-shirt up to just below her breasts, exposing her flat stomach and drawing his eyes to her waistband. “just do what you came to do.”

The air chilled as he stiffened. Her heart raced, waiting for him, fingers teasing her bare skin. He didn’t move. She lifted a bare foot and ran it along his pant leg, coaxing him to touch her. He nodded, as if making some decision Nesta wasn’t privy to. His face, lit so beautifully by the moonlight, hardened into a mask. A smooth, smiling mask. Prince of cats no more.

“Cassian?”

“Dear Nesta, I do believe our time is up,” he leaned down and reached over her, his chest just grazing her belly, the only skin to skin contact they’d had. She swore she felt him shudder, but it was over in an instant. He quickly retrieved his shirt from behind her and pulled it on.

She gaped at him, “what do you mean our time is up?”

“I mean,” his eyes shot right through her with cool confidence, “it’s getting late and I do need my beauty sleep. I must be going.”

“But–“ she didn’t understand. Isn’t this what he wanted? Isn’t this how he gets paid? How can he leave?

He buttoned up his shirt, swift and efficient. Little feeling or warmth. Nesta wasn’t sure what to do. Confusion quickly gave way to anger, boiling in her veins, flushing her skin.

“So, you’re not just a whore,” she hissed, “you’re a bastard whore that can’t even finish the job.”

“So lovely meeting you, dear Nesta,” he turned with a sweet smile and opened the door, sending any tension between them out into the hallway. He breezed through the door, clicking it shut behind him so gently he might have been a phantom.

Nesta slammed her head against the mattress and let out a frustrated scream so loud she had no doubt the bastard whore heard it.

taglist: @sleeping-and-books @greerlunna @sjmships @cupcakey00 @queenestarcheron

Cassian’s POV is next ❤️

#acotar #acotar fic #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar au #acomaf #acowar #sarah j maas #sjm #my writing

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voids-colourful-creations · 3 years

Text

What It Means - Ace Attorney Fic

Rating: T Category: Gen Pairings: Nothing romantic, but focusing on the family relationship between Trucy and Phoenix Word Count: 2k Warnings: discussions of abandonment

Trucy explains to Apollo and Athena what it really means to her to have Phoenix as her daddy.

She looked out the window, her eyes tracing the cars below, reflected in the glass. “Athena,” Trucy said, voice just slightly off, still refusing to look either of them in the eye. “Did Daddy ever tell you the story of how I got adopted?”

Read on Ao3

It was a quiet day at the Wright Anything Agency, most were, and Phoenix had stepped out to grab some case file or another. It was in that little time frame, a short break while he was gone, that Apollo got around to asking a question that had been on his mind for a while.

He sat on the couch that faced Phoenix’s desk, opposite Athena and Trucy on the other. Athena sat on the right, and while she insisted she was doing work, Apollo could clearly see her playing some idle game or another on her holographic screens. He wondered how she ever thought she was hiding it when the screens were translucent.

Trucy sat on the other side of the couch, legs dangling over the couch’s arms as she shuffled up a pack of playing cards she was rehearsing some new trick with. He wasn’t quite sure of the details, but as long as it didn’t risk him losing a limb, he figured it probably wasn’t important. Trucy would probably ask him to watch the trick’s successful execution within the next few days or so anyway.

“Hey Trucy…” Apollo said, voice cutting through the comfortable silence, disturbing the ease. “Sorry if this is a weird question, it’s probably coming out of nowhere, I’ve just been wondering for a while…”

He trailed off, but Trucy was already responding.

“Sure, Polly, go for it! But if it’s about any of my magic tricks, those are secrets! I can’t tell you any of those, you should know that by now!”

She laughed and shook a finger at him, as though he were a misbehaving kid. While she was clearly having fun, Athena appearing amused as well, Apollo kept a serious expression on his face.

“It’s just… this sounds weird, but I’ve always wondered why you call Mr. Wright ‘daddy’.”

He hated how awkward it sounded, but how on earth was he supposed to ask that naturally?

Trucy just laughed again.

“Well I’m not going to call him ‘Mr. Wright’ like you and Athena do! He’s your boss, not mine, Polly! Or did you forget?”

She laughed and winked, and Athena laughed along as well.

“Come on, Apollo,” Athena chimed in, “What kind of question is that supposed to be?”

Apollo frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, cut it out. That’s not what I meant. It’s just… Isn’t that a childish thing to call your dad? I mean, you’re sixteen, I thought you would’ve grown out of it by now or something.”

Athena shot Apollo a glare, sans malice, as she waved her screens away.

“Don’t listen to him, Trucy! You’re still young, call your dad whatever you want!”

Apollo would’ve stuck his tongue out at Athena but he refused to stoop to such childish things, so he settled for glaring at her instead.

“Geez, chill Athena! I’m just telling the truth, it’s not like it’s a bad thing. I’m just wondering. It is kinda childish, you have to admit.”

It was Trucy’s turn to cross her arms now, over her legs as pulled them down and tucked them close to her chest.

“It might be, I guess. Though, I don’t really care, that’s not why I call him that.”

Athena’s eyes widened and Widget lit up yellow.

“Wait, wait, wait. Trucy, you actually have a reason? Huh, and I thought Apollo was just going off on a conspiracy theory.”

“Hey! Give me a little more credit than that!”

Trucy laughed at their antics, but it didn’t go unnoticed by either of the others that it was missing the spark it had previously held.

Apollo started to feel a pang of regret.

“Well, kinda?” She said, holding a smile that was beginning to waver. “I mean I guess I have a reason, but I also sort of don’t? It’s… complicated, I guess.”

Trucy stood, walking past the table and over to the window next to her father’s desk. Apollo and Athena both watched her, unsure of what they should say, if anything.

She looked out the window, her eyes tracing the cars below, reflected in the glass.

“Athena,” Trucy said, voice just slightly off, still facing the window, still refusing to look either of them in the eye. “Did Daddy ever tell you the story of how I got adopted?”

Athena nodded, then remembered Trucy couldn’t see her.

“Yeah, well… a bit? Boss said I didn’t need to know all the details, but he said he adopted you right around the time he lost his badge. He was defending your father, I think, but then he disappeared. I don’t know much more than that.”

Trucy nodded, still looking out the window.

“Yeah… that’s pretty much it. I don’t have to explain to you guys what it feels like… knowing you don’t have parents. No one to look out for you. It was only two weeks, way shorter than what either of you have had to deal with, so I guess I shouldn’t complain, haha…”

Athena bit the edge of her lip, unsure of what to say, but Trucy continued.

“Zak Gramarye, Shadi Enigmar, whatever you want to call him.” She said, waving her hand nonchalantly, “He ran away. Disappeared, really. The only end appropriate for a magician. And it’s not like I even have the right to be upset over it, I helped him do it.”

She said those words as if she was horrified with herself, dropping her hand to grip the edge of the desk, then let out a breath, soft and shuddering slightly.

“He left… and he never came back. But before long… he, my new daddy that is, called me into his office.”

Trucy paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts.

“I remember the look on his face when he told me… ‘no living relatives’. And I remember even clearer… what he looked like when he said would take me in, instead.”

Trucy laughed a little, but it was hollow, empty.

“Did you know it was only supposed to be temporary? Just until ‘daddy came back’. Well… guess who never showed up?”

She raised a hand to her eyes, wiping away tears that neither Apollo or Athena could see.

“And the funny thing is… I should be upset. I am upset… but not in the way I’m supposed to be. Because every time I think about it… Every time I get scared… w-worry that I’ll be all alone… a-again… I remember what Daddy told me.”

She raised her head just a little higher as she spoke, eyes closed as she quoted her memory.

“‘You can call me ‘daddy’, if you’d like. It doesn’t have to be today, or anything.’... That…. is what he said. And I, a foolish child, accepted it the second he said it.”

Trucy lowered her head again.

“He was so willing to just… let me into his family. Just like that. Before he knew about the Gramarye gift, before I had done anything for him but caused him misery. A-and I was pushy and upfront, I wanted him to be my dad right away, and I’d just lost the first. Maybe that makes me a horrible daughter, willing to abandon someone that quick. Maybe I just really wanted him to like me. I leapt at the chance to be someone's daughter again like I was jumping to a life raft off a sinking ship. Maybe… I was scared that someone would leave me behind again. But the thing is… Daddy never did. It was supposed to be temporary, just until Zak Gramarye made his return. And when he never did, Daddy never said a word. He just kept on caring for me, kept on loving me.”

Trucy took a deep breath in, shuddering again, stronger this time. It was sounding more like a sob.

“It’s different for him, I’m sure. But the moment he told me I could call him my daddy is the moment he became mine, to me. The moment he told me he’d be there for me, like a daddy should be. And every moment after that… even if he was busy, even if things were desperate, no matter what.”

Her voice was choked now and Athena knew she was crying, the same tears she knew were stinging Trucy’s eyes beginning to sting her own. The sound of Trucy’s pain pierced her like a knife slashing through her heart.

“He always comes back.”

Trucy’s voice cracked on the final words, and by now Athena had already stood up, closely followed by Apollo.

“I should probably tell him all this someday… but for now it’s just my little secret. Can you promise me you’ll keep it?”

When Trucy finally turned to meet Apollo and Athena’s eyes, she found both of them looking at her with equally teary expressions as her own.

“Of course.”

“Absolutely.”

Trucy smiled, and it was real this time.

Athena opened her arms, and before she could blink, Trucy had hopped off the desk and into her arms, gripping her tight in a hug. Athena held Trucy close, feeling the slight shake of her body as she hugged her securely. It wasn’t long before another set of arms, Apollo’s to be sure, joined in the mix.

They stayed there for a moment, Apollo and Athena holding Trucy, protecting her from anything outside that might harm her, though of course, nothing was there.

And then, as soon as it had begun, Trucy let go, and the hold gently dissolved.

“I’m alright, I really am. I’m still scared, sometimes. But I know Daddy will be there for me. And you’ll be there for me too… I hope.”

“Of course we will!” Athena cried out, and it took her a moment to realize that Widget had called out the same thing.

“Athena’s right. Widget too. We’re here for you, Trucy,” Apollo added. His voice was more stable than either of the girls, but he couldn’t hide the slight tremor in it from Athena.

“Thank you. Both of you,” Trucy said.

And as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand once more, Phoenix stepped back inside the office, files in tow.

“Hey gang, I’m back!” He called, smile dropping as his gaze landed on his daughter scrubbing the tear tracks off of her cheeks.

“Trucy! Are you alright? What’s wrong?”

He rushed forward, eyes scanning over Trucy’s body for any signs of physical injury.

“Nothing! Everything’s fine, Daddy!”

There were still tears at the corners of his daughter's eyes as she looked up to her father’s concerned face with a smile. He reached down, opening his arms to allow Trucy to hug him, which she gladly did.

“Are you sure?” Phoenix continued, shooting a worried glance at his employees over Trucy’s shoulder. “Apollo, Athena? Should I be worried?”

Athena shook her head.

“All good here, boss!”

Apollo twisted his bracelet around his wrist as he spoke.

“Nothing to be worried about.”

It was their words that allowed Phoenix to relax.

“Well if Apollo says it’s nothing to be worried over, then I’m sure it’s all fine,” He said, the teasing in his tone reassuring the others in turn.

He straightened as Trucy let go, smiling as he went.

“Alright then, is everyone good to get back to work?”

Athena pumped a fist, Trucy grinned, and Apollo crossed his arms over his chest with a smile.

That was answer enough for Phoenix.

“Great. Let’s get back to it!”

And back into the quiet sort of comfortable the office had previously been in they slipped.

As Trucy returned to practicing card tricks, Athena glanced at Phoenix, pretending to be tidying her desk as she did.

She couldn’t say for sure if Trucy was right about one thing… if Phoenix really did see his Trucy as a daughter later in their relationship rather than sooner. But as she watched him pull the locket out of his pocket to look at the picture inside, she was confident Trucy had been right about the other.

He would always come back for her.

[end]

#ace attorney #trucy wright #phoenix wright #athena cykes #apollo justice #fanfiction #fanfic #aa fanfic #ace attorney fanfiction #voids fic #terrible at tags on tumblr #trying out a new formatting style for fics on here #hopefully this will be more convinent for yall

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starcrossedyanderes · 3 years

Text

Beauty and The Birds Part 9

Warning: This chapter contains former abuse from parents, religion (mostly cult-ish stuff), mentions of ‘The Catholic Church’, and supposed witchcraft. A long with general harm of a person because of them being different. If any of this effects you I recommend possibly not reading this. If you are facing any of the above (except for maybe supposed witch craft) you can access this website for help https://www.thehotline.org/ this is the domestic violence hotline and are generally good for a lot of situations.

Disclaimer: I, as always, do not condone this behavior in any sense. A made up sort of cult-like religion is brought up that tries to hide itself as The Catholic Church. I have absolutely nothing against the catholic church as I am personally a protestant (but of course you know how us protestants feel) and I have nothing against what people believe in as long as no one gets hurt. This is based off of the sad incidents of exorcisms and how the are most commonly performed on regular children and how they quickly turn violent. Please, this is never acceptable. You should never be harmed by your religion or because of your religion.

~Previously on Beauty and The Birds~

“Isn’t that cannibalism?”

“Doggo!”

“Sheepies!”

“No. Other birds. I don’t think there’s another like me.”

~Back to Beauty and The Birds~

“It’s a uh.. long story that I haven’t shared with anyone. As you can tell I’m not exactly the best at communicating-“

He physically backed into himself with a blush on his cheeks and a hand rubbing his neck. You physically drooped as you started to walk away.

“Okay, I guess you don’t want to tell me-“

“NO!”

At seemingly the speed of light and a large ‘whoosh’ the bird man appeared right in front of you with his hands spread.

He had this deranged look on his face that seemed to become more and more common as the days passed.

He stepped closer to you with a shaky crazed smile on his face.

“No, no! I’ll tell you! I would tell you anything.”

He placed his hands on your shoulders to pull you in closer as his smile only widened.

“I would do anything for you. You just have to ask and I would tell you whatever you could possibly want to know. As long as you stay so couldn’t care less. It’s all worth it.”

Hm, he seems to show a lot of territorial behavior and desperation. Could this be part of a courtship sort of thing. He seems to be quite attached for only knowing you for what? 2 days? You’ll have to look into that later.

His smile and piercing gaze finally softened as he seemed to return to his normal self.

“I will admit this is a rough topic for me so I would rather if we could instead talk in the nest.”

You eagerly nodded your head as you gripped your discreet recording device as you were flown up to the top floor’s glass observatory.

It seems the nest acts as a comfort sort of place for him. Somewhat how some animals do during heats and pregnancy’s. From what you can tell he isn’t in a heat (although it could explain some things) and he certainly isn’t pregnant so it is quite odd behavior for a bird to exhibit.

~|~

You were currently perched inside the nest as you awaited on Avery’s return. He, to your annoyance, insisted on getting a few snacks

You irritably clutched on a corviknight plushie you found in the nest before it was quickly abandoned on Avery’s return.

In his hands he carried various junk foods but there was an odd one that stood out from the rest.

Tater tots.

After putting down the foods on a little side table he quickly joined you in the Blanket Void TM and quickly into you. His wings wrapped around and whilst spreading sent a turtle duck plushie off of the bed. He quickly let out some gentle cooing as he nuzzled deeply into your neck.

“I’m ready to answer your questions now.”

“Alright, how about an easier question to start off. What’s with the tater tots?”

Of course this question was just a ruse to make sure your device was recording and genuine curiosity.

Avery’s head pulled away from your neck and a frown pulled at his lips. He then proceeded in what you like to call his ‘bby voice’

“Is there something wrong with them? They’re my favorite.”

That-that was not the answer you were expecting. Huh, that’s odd.

“Oh, nothing. Just genuine curiosity.”

Avery immediately relaxed back into your arms after popping a tater tot into his mouth.

“Now, you say you don’t think there’s anyone else like you. Is it because you believe to be the last of your species?”

He stiffened up once again before digging himself more into you.

“Well no, I think. I don’t believe I am part of a species. This may take a while to explain and please bare with me. This is a rough topic that I haven’t really been able to share with anyone.”

You eagerly nodded your head and made sure to give him some headpats which only induced some coos to leave his throat.

“Well my family were rather wealthy and owned an airplane company and I think we did general logistics stuff. We were also rather catholic although now I think we don’t quite fit that term. At least hope not for the sake of people who are actually catholic.

My mother was the heiress and received a lot of suitors. She was supposedly cursed by one of her suitor’s mother after turning him down. We think this may have led to me.. being me.”

You felt rather disheartened but also even more intrigued by this information. So he doesn’t seem to be part of a species, but an odd mutation? (You highly doubted this is from some curse.)

“So where exactly is your family now”

After speaking you popped a tator tot into your mouth.

“I think about 5 years ago my parents, ironically enough, died in a plane crash. I was pretty much only allowed on the estate, the woods, and the church after my wings developed so I wasn’t allowed with them. That was probably a mistake on their parts.”

You waved your arms a bit.

“Hold up, you siad you weren’t allowed anywhere after your wings developed. Does that mean you weren’t born with them.”

Avery let out a reflexive chuckle.

“Ha ha, well I technically was born with them. I was a healthy baby but I had these bumps on my back. Of course everyone was concerned about these being tumors so I was tested frequently. Turns out they were merely bone and somewhat.. hollow. As I grew the bumps started grow into my wings today. The bone thing is also why I take a good bit of calcium since they’re so fragile.”

“But why weren’t you let anywhere after they developed?”

Avery let out a sigh as he mentally prepared himself.

“After the doctors kinda figured out I was somehow growing wings paired with my purple eyes my parents were very excited for me to be an angel like thing. Yeah, I don’t know their understanding either. Maybe consider me as a miracle of the lord of something? Either way they were rather hopeful of this and treated me like a regular son with giving me an education to run the business. But then I got my feathers. Their dreams of an angel were crushed upon seeing that were not pure white but instead a dark black. They became horrified and I was forced to spend a lot of time at the church and was forced to have exorcism after exorcism performed on me. It.. wasn’t pleasant to say the least. My parents quickly hated me and locked me away. But they still needed an heir and they feared to have another child so I was still given an education as I sometimes needed to appear to confirm that they were nice enough to keep me alive.”

You felt some water cascade down your neck as you could place your arms around him in a hug.

“A-Avery that’s awful. I-I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

Avery gained a small smile as he pulled away from you hug with tears still gliding down his face.

“Y-You’re the first person to every say sorry to me.”

“Oh, Avery. No one should be deprived of that.”

You forced a small grin on your face to try and cheer him up.

“Ok, no more hardcore questions. Stuff that shouldn’t make you cry now. Sorry to open those wounds like that.”

“No, no. It’s fine. I said I would tell you anything. And I’m honestly over joyed to share anything with you.”

How can someone say something so creepy yet sat at the same time? “Alright then, if you’re sure you want to continue. You’re able to communicate with birds from what I can tell. Do they see you as they’re leader or something?”

“Since I was only really allowed in the woods birds quickly became my only friends and company. Also I’ve done a lot of rehabilitation work that a lot seem to feel indebted to me. A lot of birds tend to follow the bigger bird naturally and they see me as a really big bird so they just kinda.. naturally do what I tell them. It also helps that I feed them too.”

“Makes sense, I guess. Like when I saw this heron in a pond one time and a bunch of ducks just followed him around. Last question for the day, alright?”

Avery nodded his head as he pulled you closer.

“I brought like 3 scarves here but I can’t find any of them. I have a slight feeling you may know where they are.”

Of course you couldn’t see it but a dark blush covered Avery’s face.

“W-well two of them are in the nest. I’m afraid that some of the birds got their hands on the other one somehow and are currently using it to snuggle. I’m working on getting them another scarf so you can get yours back.”

Huh, so he puts many different things in his nest. Also now you had to deal with the conflict of you taking a scarf from some cozy, snuggling birds.

“The birds can keep my scarf. I couldn’t just take it from them like that.”

Avery smiled against your neck and cooed.

“I’m sure they’ll be estatic for their cuddling not to be ruined. Now enough questions, more cuddles and movies.”

#yandere #starcrossedyanderes #romance #original character #yandere romance #yandere male #yandere oc #beauty and the birds #avery #birb

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starshine583 · 4 years

Text

Le Paon Part 10

(Hello all! This is part 10, two weeks later, but I have to admit it’s slightly shorter than usual. The next chapter will be the same. I hope you enjoy reading nonetheless!)

Part 1 / Part 9 / Part 11

Allegra couldn’t help the ear-piercing squeal that escaped her lips as she stared at Marinette’s picture of Le Paon. Finally! After weeks of chasing that man’s tail around the city, they finally got a good- no, not just good, a great picture! This was incredible! She felt like bouncing around the room from pure joy, which she did, along with singing a happy little ‘victory tune’. It wasn’t appropriate for the school classroom, but dash it all if she cared what her teacher might think. They were on their routine break between classes anyway.

“I can’t believe you got this!” She exclaimed after a good few moments of staring at it. She wanted to memorize every detail. “I mean, how did you get it? The picture seems so close! It’s like he’s standing right next to you!”

Allegra was too excited to notice Marinette shifting uncomfortably next to her.

“W-Well, I was out on the balcony and.. and I saw him on one of the rooftops across the street. My phone just happened to have a good focusing feature.” The ravenette explained.

Allegra’s features twisted into a scowl, though it wasn’t necessarily directed towards Marinette. “I wish I could get that lucky. You’d think after months of waiting, he might show up on my doorstep every-”

Her miniature rant was cut off by the vibration of Marinette’s phone. Someone had texted her, and from the pop-up notification at the top of the screen, it appeared to be.. Felix? Since when did he get her number? Since when did they text?

~My Father’s at home today, so you should be able to visit this afternoon after school hours. Does that work for you?~

Allegra squinted at the text. He was inviting her over to his house?

“That’s scroundal.” She muttered.

“What?”

Allegra snapped back to reality at Marinette’s voice. “Hm? Oh, nothing.”

She handed Marinette’s phone back, subtly checking the time as she did. It was important that no one- especially Felix -interrupt. “Do you like greenhouses?”

Marinette blinked. “Greenhouses?”

“Yeah! Claude and the rest of us are going to visit a greenhouse tomorrow, and I was wondering if you’d like to join us.” She requested, making sure to keep a light and sweet tone. Hopefully, Marinette wouldn’t remember the last time she asked her to go somewhere, not that the girl seemed to mind running into Felix so often.

Marinette hummed. “I think that should work. I don’t remember having anything else to do tomorrow besides school.”

Allegra clapped her hands together as the bell rang above them. “Wonderful! I’ll tell the boys.”

Marinette nodded and gave a quick goodbye as she left to go back to class. Conveniently, Felix walked in right after her exit.

“Felix!” Allegra nearly cooed. “How do you feel about greenhouses?”

Felix paused at his desk and rose a brow at her. “I’d say that I liked them until you asked that question.”

Allegra only smiled. “Why don’t you join us this fine Thursday on our trip to the greenhouse?”

Felix sat down, pulling his bag onto his lap to rummage through it. “As fun as that sounds, I’ll have to refuse.”

She let out a long, wistful sigh as she sat down next to him. Claude wouldn’t mind sharing his seat with her for a minute. “What a shame. I’ll tell Marinette you couldn’t come then.”

Felix twitched next to her, and she felt her smile widen. Checkmate.

Unfortunately, she had to go back to her seat after that, but Allegra still counted it as a success. Felix didn’t agree to go with them out loud, but somehow, she knew he would be there.

~~~~~~

Marinette clutched her sketchbook to her chest as she stared up at the large, metal gates of the Agreste Mansion. Despite it being the middle of the day, she couldn’t help finding the sight a bit eerie. Normally, one would find gates like this outside an abandoned house on the outskirts of town, not in the middle of Paris as if it were as natural as a mailbox.

A compartment opened to her right, and Marinette jumped back with a slight squeal when a silver bulb shot out at her. Something red in the middle of the bulb seemed to shrink and expand a few times as it circled her. A camera, she realized. It had to be one of those built-in cameras that she’d heard about.

~Name?~

Marinette faltered at the sharp tone. “Ah, u-um..”

The camera inched closer, somehow appearing to glare at her. ~Name?~

She swallowed. “M-Marinette.”

A pause.

~You are not on our schedule for-~

~Oh, cut it out, will you?~

Marinette blinked. Was that Felix?

~Apologies, Marinette. Our secretary’s not that bright.~

A click emitted from the metal gates, and they swung open, allowing her to enter. Marinette spared the camera one last glance as it retreated to its compartment in the wall before starting forward.

Felix greeted her at the entrance. “Sorry about the camera. Father can get a bit carried away when it comes to security. ‘Overprotective’, if you will.”

Marinette gave a tight smile. This whole situation didn’t sit well with her. She didn’t remember the security being this overbearing last time she visited for her and Adrien’s history report. Paris had some criminal activity, yes, but surely cameras and two-story sized walls weren’t necessary. Who was M. Agreste trying to keep out?

Or keep in? She thought, her gaze flicking to Felix as he closed the front door behind them. He mentioned a few weeks ago the lengths that M. Agreste would go to keep them at home. Marinette can understand wanting to keep one’s children close, but this is a little.. excessive, especially considering the fact that she’s barely seen their father around the house as it is.

Felix showed her to his father’s office, and Marinette briefly noticed a woman sitting at a desk not too far away, the barest hint of a scowl adorning her lips as she typed away on her computer. That, Marinette assumed, must be the secretary that had talked to her over the camera earlier.

Her attention was turned back to Felix when he pushed open the office door. It wasn’t until they were inside that Marinette realized she was holding her breath. This was M. Agreste, after all. He was known world wide for his fashion achievements, and his company was one to be coveted. Honestly, she could only ever dream of reaching his level of success, and here she was, about to meet him face to face for the first time.

“Father, this is Marinette, the one I told you about.” Felix introduced.

A slight blush brushed Marinette’s cheeks at the thought of Felix talking about her, but she tried to push the feeling aside. Right now, she needed to focus on making a good first impression.

Gabriel’s gaze flicked to her briefly, but he kept his main focus on his screen. “Ah, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. Of course.”

Marinette rose a brow. “Of course”? That’s it? She didn’t expect any sort of special treatment, but she liked to have some common courtesy. He could have at least put a light note into his tone instead of sounding as enthusiastic as a rock.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, M. Agreste.” She finally said, an equally cold tone of her own. Two could play at this game.

She caught Felix giving her a surprised look out of the corner of her eye, which was understandable. Marinette didn’t tend to hold a sharp tongue, but sometimes, exceptions needed to be made.

Gabriel looked up at her as well, and that’s when she stiffened. In hindsight, this was his mansion that she was standing in. If anyone had a right to practically ignore her, it would be him. Nevertheless, Marinette had already made her position clear, and she wasn’t going to back down now.

Her shoulders straightened as M. Agreste’s hollow, grey eyes assessed her. “You’re from the Dupain-Cheng Bakery, correct?”

Marinette forced a neutral expression. How did he know that? She supposed her last name made it obvious, but still. “Y-Yes, sir.”

He nodded. “Your designs are impressive, albeit a bit rough. With guidance and practice, I’m sure you can inspire a new era of fashion. Have you anything else to show me?”

Marinette took a step forward, offering him her notebook. The tense silence that followed had her fidgeting with her hands as he flips through her designs. His expression didn’t even change while he studied the pages. What kind of robot of a man was he, anyway? Or were her designs just not good enough?

Finally, Gabriel nodded again and handed the notebook back to her. “Splendid. I appreciate the visit.”

Something about his tone- or lack thereof- made her more irritated than pleased about the compliment. They’d barely said two words to each other. Was this his way of blowing her off? She simply couldn’t tell.

Felix, obviously used to this behavior, nodded as well and lightly grabbed her arm for them to leave.

“Felix, next time you intend to bring someone new to my mansion, I’d prefer to look into it myself first.” Gabriel remarked as they reached the door.

“Of course, Father.” Felix said, opening the door for them to make a quiet exit.

Marinette, however, didn’t move. She couldn’t. She was too bewildered to do anything other than stare at Gabriel with a quizzical expression. “Look into it myself first”? “My mansion”? She could explain away his need to look into visitors, controlling as that may be, but for him to act like he alone owned everything here was outrageous. Whether he bought the place himself or not, Felix and Adrien were his sons, and this was their home too. Let’s not even mention that she was not, in fact, “new to his mansion”.

Actually, no. Marinette thought. Let’s mention that.

She turned away from Felix, ignoring his panicked expression, and smiled a nice, sweet, sugary smile. “With all due respect, M. Agreste, I’ve visited this mansion before. Adrien and I worked on a history project together.”

Gabriel rose a brow. “What history project?”

Marinette barely held back a scoff, though her smile remained. “You didn’t know about your own son’s history project?”

Admittedly, her tone was harsher than she had meant it to be, but that didn’t mean she regretted what she said. Her parents knew her entire schedule, all of her interests, and they certainly knew about her visit to the Agreste’s to work on their group history project.

Gabriel, however, narrowed his eyes at the confrontation. “I have Nathalie and Gorilla to keep track of that for me.”

It took every ounce of self control she had not to snap at him right then.

“I don’t mean to argue,” She began calmly, “But is it really wise to hire someone to care for your own children?”

Gabriel shot her a full-fledged glare. “Felix and Adrien are my children. I am their father, and I will decide what’s best for them.”

Marinette huffed. She tried being polite, tried helping him see reason. The boys may not be her responsibility, but she wasn’t going to stand back and watch them be mistreated like this. “A father doesn’t lock his children up in a mansion and leave employees to care for them.”

“They have everything they need here!” He yelled.

“Except a loving parent who cares for them!” Marinette spat back. “The only way you haven’t abandoned them is by physically leaving. But you’re practically there by holding yourself up in your office all day.”

Gabriel scoffed. “You best mind your tone, Mademoiselle. I don’t have to explain myself to you nor anyone else. Now take your leave before my patience runs dry.”

Marinette’s fists clenched at her sides. How could someone be so stubborn and so arrogant? Why did this man even decide to have kids in the first place?

A light touch on her wrist brought her gaze back to Felix. He didn’t say anything, and his expression didn’t change, but she could see the pleading in his eyes.

A sigh passed her lips, and she shot one last look at Gabriel before marching through the office doors.

Another time. She promised herself as Felix trailed behind her. Another time.

~~~~~~

Felix quietly closed the office door behind him, not wanting to disturb Father any more than they already had.

"Well, that didn't go as planned." He muttered to himself. Inviting Marinette over was supposed to impress his Father, not twist his candy-cane tie into a knot. Though, in all honesty, Felix couldn't say he was disappointed. He'd never seen Marinette so utterly enraged before. That girl had turned to ice faster than he could blink, and Felix would be lying if he said he wasn't just a tad love-struck. For someone who usually stumbled over a simple "hello", her tonguelashing towards his Father could be considered quite a feat. Truly magnificent.

Felix turned around to tell her this himself, but stopped short when he saw her. She was standing in front of him, a dazed look in her eyes as she clutched her shirt, almost like she was trying to hold her own heart.

Cautiously, he stepped forward. “Marinette? Are you alright?”

No response.

“Marinette?” He tried again, starting to get worried.

“I yelled at him.”

“Pardon?”

Finally, she looked at him, and he immediately wished that she hadn’t. Her beautiful blue eyes were hollow, haunted. It made his blood run cold.

“I yelled at him.” She repeated. “I yelled at your Father. What was I thinking? What if he calls security? I’ll never be allowed to talk to you again. My fashion dream is probably ruined-”

“Woah, hey, hey-” Felix tried to sooth, taking her by the shoulders. (Gently, of course) “It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Father’s not going to call security.”

Marinette dug her hands through her hair. “But what if he does? What if I just got you into huge trouble? What if he pulls you and Adrien out of school?”

He pulled her hands out of her hair. “Can I hug you?”

“I- what?”

“Can I hug you?” Felix said slowly.

She stared at him for a minute, a little confused, but nodded.

Felix sighed and pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms around her back. “Just take a deep breath. I promise you that everything’s going to be okay.”

She buried her face into his shirt and sniffled, and he reached up to gently stroke her hair as he felt the wetness of her tears sink into his shoulders.

“I actually wanted to thank you.”

Her head jerked back a bit from shock. “Thank me? For what?”

“For sticking up for me and Adrien. Not many people have the courage to stand up to my Father like that, but I’m glad you did.”

Marinette sniffed again and wiped away a stray tear. “I’d do it again if you asked.”

Felix smiled, pulling her back into another hug. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but he did know one thing: he loved Marinette, and he would do everything he could to keep her from crying like this again.

Tag List: @im-here-for-the-content @novicevoice @mewwitch@minightrose @frostymoon11 @multishipper1needshalp@unabashedbookworm @unholykrow @trubel43@kaydenth3gayden @stardustrevoutionx @legendaryneckjudgestudent @aurordraws @crazylittlemunchkin @uwuteamleader @chocolatecustarddanish @iambi-thilla-meena @corabeth11 @asainfrustration13 @chrismarium @agumon1123 @luciferge @yue-caelum @persephonebutkore @constancetruggle @fanficaddict4ever @johnlockfeelz @imfreakingmagical @tinybrie @procrastinatingrightnow @bee-wrecker @dontcallmecedge @shadowhex99 @daminette-is-life @thethirdwheelfriend @myazael @sizzling-fairy-oil @sparkle9510 @chaosace @the-navistar-carol @sannsibarr @grumpy-vixen-kitten @hauntedfreakdeputyhero @utcaro @more-or-less-human-i-guess @mlbutatbspofsalt

#Le Paon AU #Felinette #Felix Agreste #Marinette

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ally-127 · 4 years

Note

aaa, your hoshi story has got me feeling some type of way :’’) i’m a sucker for those kinds of prompts and, if you’re willing to write it, i’d love a story with that premise except the reader tries to get his attention/test out his lifestyle so they dress up and happen to get hit on by some random person and then the confession happens ! with any seventeen member you want if you decide to do it :)

frisson

(noun) a brief moment of emotional excitement

in the night in itaewon universe

pairing: jun x reader ; kihyun x reader (surprise!) word count: 2.5k (yikes) warnings: alcohol consumption ; swearing ; jun being a jerk music: ‘afraid’ by day6 a/n: if you were hoping for a happy ending like hoshi’s, anon, i’m really sorry please forgive me. 😟 on a happier note, i’d like to thank minhyuk and kihyun for their cameos in this.

jun was never around anymore.

ever since soonyoung introduced him to itaewon, you had spent most nights cooped up alone in your shared apartment, either working or wrapped in a blanket burrito and binge-watched korean drama until sunrise.

he would arrive back into the apartment right after you’ve switched off the tv, footing unstable and stumbling about the corridor. your eyelids would be droopy and your footsteps would be heavy from the complete deprivation of sleep as you approached him.

sometimes you wondered if you were as drunk as he was.

“where have you been?” you would then ask him even though you already knew the answer, pausing by your bedroom door.

“itaewon,” jun reeked of alcohol and second-hand smoke. he was dressed in black from head-to-toe, his hair a hot mess, and his chest glistening with sweat in the moonlight. even in this ungodly hour, he still looked good enough to devour.

“what’s so fun about it?” you tucked your hands into the pockets of the hoodie you stole from him. he didn’t seem to notice, though, busy hobbling to his room across of yours.

“everything,” his words were slurred from the vodka thriving in his bloodstream.

he’d leave the next day for practice before you could even get out of bed. you didn’t blame him, it was his job and yet the disappointment never failed to seize your chest every time.

there were plenty of days that jun had spent at home with you, especially when you both had similar off-days. now, he wasn’t around during that too. he was clubbing when he wasn’t working and he was working when he wasn’t clubbing.

and you missed him.

“jun,” you called from the couch, looking up from the laptop propped on the arm of the couch.

it was about nine p.m., you had already begun winding down by sending one last email. your body ached from sitting all day at the office you might as well have melted into the couch.

he had his hand on the doorknob of the front door, eyes wide as if he’s just been caught in the act of doing wrong. “what is it?” his arm was limp by his side as he ditched the door and made his way to your side. “do you need help with something?”

“no,” you sighed. “i was just wondering where you were going.”

“the usual,” jun shrugged.

“you’re never home anymore,” you looked up at him and closed your laptop shut.

he looked different that night. his brown hair was styled away from his eyes, revealing his glamorous forehead. he was dressed in the usual black; sporting a silk shirt and skinny jeans, on his feet were glossy chelsea boots.

your heart palpitated unusually fast. it was not the first time that it had, around him.

“it’s not like we’re dating or something,” jun scoffed and rolled his eyes.

and then your heart fell ten feet down to the ground.

there was something venomous in the way he said it, as if you had just asked him to do something atrocious. your chest caved in, hollow in hurt.

“right,” you cleared your throat and looked away, hands becoming clammy. “we’re not.”

“so can i go now?” he jutted a thumb at the door, silent demand across his features.

“y-yeah,” you shrugged, your heartbeat deafening in your ears.

it ached, but you were used to it.

wen junhui was your roommate-turned-best friend. you started to have feelings for him around last year, but it was obvious it would be a one-sided affair.

he was wild and carefree, spontaneity and fun the only aims he ever had in mind. meanwhile you, in your nine-to-five job, were a person who wished to have their life together, organised into a little book called a planner.

you figured you were too uptight for his liking. aside from binge-watching until daylight, your daily life was far too structured. meetings in the morning, lunch break at two and company dinners at eight didn’t seem to align with his own schedule and his life.

so you let him go.

well, you tried to let him go.

as you sat by the couch, staring wistfully at the shut door where the ghost of junhui still lingered, you wondered just where things went wrong with moving on.

you replayed the things he said to you before he left in your head like a broken record. you hugged your knees to your chest and felt something ignite.

there was a sudden rush of adrenaline that coursed through your veins, a desire to change things up tonight.

next thing you knew, you were digging in the depths of your closet for appropriate clothing to wear in a night club.

jun’s silk shirt from earlier flashed in your mind and you managed to fish out something similar, one with a plunging neckline and long sleeves. among that pile of unworn clothes you found a leather pencil skirt from college, back when frat parties were your thing.

you weren’t all that uptight. you just knew when to loosen up and when not to.

tonight, however, you went darker on the eyeshadow and contoured your cheekbones, tied everything together by lining your lips with a seductive shade of rose. you let your hair down from its usual hairstyle of a messy bun, curling it loosely and tossing it over your shoulder.

for once, it was excitement that lit behind your eyes when you glanced at yourself through the mirror.

saint laurent perfume on your pulse points and knife-sharp stilettos on your feet, you were out the door in less than thirty.

it was time to have some fun.

you held your phone up to your ear as you stood by the sidewalk outside your apartment.

soonyoung picked up on the second ring.

hastily you asked for his location and he gave it to you without a second thought, to your relief. you expected it, anyway. there was no use of being subtle if he was completely wasted.

as you sat in the cab, you quickly contemplate what the hell you were about to get yourself into.

despite the differences in work ethics, the two of you spent so much time together it was natural to have jun’s influence over you.

he made you feel alive.

in all the times you spent with him, he made you laugh like there’s no tomorrow with that witty sense of humour of his. he, ever so lovingly, nudged you out of your comfort zone and nudged you here.

it was time you saw the world through his eyes.

there were stares and you could feel them as you walked in, wen junhui’s name upon your lips as you told the bouncer who you were here with.

it was hot and sweaty in here, almost claustrophobic as the bass, the lights, and the people—dressed similarly to you—filled the room.

you took careful steps into the club, eyeing the bar and then making a beeline toward it. you needed a drink before you could have the energy to scour the club to find him.

you paid attention to the people around you and realised how good they actually look, appearance-wise. even the tall bartender was hot. you discovered his name as he approached you with a charming smile on his gorgeous face and asked you what drink you’d like.

his name was minhyuk.

a gin and tonic was what you ordered. you took a light sip, sparing the handsome bartender a couple of glances before you turned in your seat to run your eyes across the dance floor behind. maybe junhui was somewhere among the crowd.

he’s a dancer, he should be.

“are you waiting for someone?” a voice, foreign, asked. it was almost melodious. a vocalist's voice.

you angled your head to the side. and god, what’s up with all these beautiful people tonight? another fine specimen of man, as good looking as one can be, sat to your left.

“i’m kihyun,” he extended his hand.

oh good. at least he had the decency to introduce himself before anything else.

in this unpredictable setting, looks could definitely deceive, and it was best if you kept your guard all the way up.

you shook his hand, murmuring your own name in response. his palm grazed yours, teasing, for a second before he let go.

“may i buy you a drink?” he asked. “that is if you’re not waiting for someone, of course.”

what a gentleman. you immediately swallowed back all your doubts.

“sure, why not?” you tipped back your first glass of gin and tonic and downed it all in one go.

whoever you were waiting for—jun—wasn’t anywhere to be seen anyway.

as if on cue, minhyuk the bartender appeared in front of you once again. “another one?” instead of you, he seemed to be looking at kihyun.

“it’s on me,” the gentleman beside you gave the bartender a curt nod.

“comin’ right up,” minhyuk chirped, plucking your empty glass from the bar top and twirling away dramatically.

you and kihyun shared a moment of laughter over the bartender’s antics.

if you thought kihyun with a straight face was handsome, his full-blown smile was simply impeccable. his perfectly straight teeth shone under the dim lights and it might’ve been the slight dose of gin talking, but you might have to go home with him tonight.

kihyun kept a respectful distance away from you the entire time you had your drinks, arms folded across each other on the bar top as his feline eyes fixed on you intently. he listened to you go on about your day and how you never expected to end up here.

“well, i’m glad you did,” he said, looking nowhere but at you. “you look beautiful.”

“thank you,” you hummed and sipped your drink to hide your embarrassment.

you took a moment to search the place for a

familiar figure once more and again, he was nowhere to be seen.

“would you like to—“ kihyun cleared his throat. “—you know, dance with me?”

then came the point where you gave up completely.

“i would love—“

“sorry,” it seemed someone else had come into the equation. “she’s taken.”

you tensed up in your seat, startled.

there junhui stood, in the safe gap between you and kihyun, an indistinct look painted across his face. you saw him earlier tonight, so you weren’t too surprised that he looked ravishing under this lighting but you still felt like you swallowed your entire heart:

you were at a loss for words.

“and who are you?” the man beside you glanced up at your roommate.

you completely ignored jun and your pounding heart, facing kihyun instead.

if you were going to argue with him, you made sure it was not in front of a lovely guy you’d just met and ruin the chances you probably had with him.

“kihyun,” you decided to say while your eyes remained on jun. “give me your phone.”

“uh,” he shifted in his seat to gain access to his pocket. he slid his phone out and handed it to you. “sure.”

“call me,” you dialled your number into his phone, slipping it back onto his hand. you glared at jun who had his eyebrows raised at you as if demanding to know what the hell is going on. “this is my roommate, by the way, and we’re just about to head out.”

the poor guy looked severely confused.

regardless, you stood up from your seat and wrapped your fingers around jun’s arm. you made sure a little fingernails pressed into his skin to let him know your current annoyance.

“i’ll see you around,” you waved kihyun a goodbye.

“no you won’t,” jun sniped, lips curling and arched eyebrows still raised.

you gave the other guy an apologetic smile before dragging junhui out of the club, nails now digging into his skin. you stormed past the entrance, to the empty sidewalk right in front of it.

“ouch,” jun mumbled, voice mocking you in the most absurd way possible. he rubbed his arm. “did you have to grip my arm so hard?”

“what the hell is your problem?” you were fuming. but at the same time, you were nervous. nervous to be standing in front of a love that will never be yours, dressed in an utterly different manner than what he was used to.

he noticed it too. “you look different.”

“of course i look different,” you snapped. “it’s none of your business, either way.”

“yes it is,” jun kept a neutral expression.

and you couldn’t believe it.

you laughed, one without a single trace of humour.

“how is anything i do your business?” you went on. “you’re never home and we’ve barely even spoken over the past few months, it’s like we don’t know each other anymore so i don’t understand why—”

“i’m sorry,” junhui cut you off. “i’ve been a ghost lately.”

“you don’t say,” there were tears gathering behind your eyes and you had no idea why.

“i’m sorry,” he reached out to hold your wrist in his hand before you could turn away from him. “i really am.”

“but why did you interfere between me and kihyun?” you asked.

his face dropped.

“because i was jealous,” jun finally said. “i was fucking jealous of him that he was able to catch your eye and make you smile the way you smile at me.i’m jealous he’s one step away from taking you home.”

“we’re not dating, jun.” you pulled his hand away from your wrist as you spat his words back at him. “anything i do with him has nothing to do with you.”

a tear escaped the corner of your eye as you realised this one vital thing.

junhui only paid attention to you when you paid yours on someone else.

you walked away from him, finally realising the real amount of hurt you inflicted upon yourself trying to chase him. all these months of wanting, of yearning, you’ve received nothing in return but a ‘hey’ in the morning and a ‘oh you’re still awake’ at midnight.

it was about time you dropped it.

you found someone new, someone you had the opportunity to feel what you felt with jun. this only happened because you saw the world through his eyes, and you had him to thank for that.

but you have to let him go. not all stories have happy endings.

you headed back into the night club, finding kihyun back where you left him and continued what you two had started.

it turned out, he was even better than you anticipated. he was entirely different from jun, but if his kindness and consideration could capture your heart, you didn’t mind.

the next morning, as you looked at kihyun who was asleep peacefully by your side after a long night, you decided to grab your laptop to write a letter.

a letter to terminate the lease on your end for the apartment you shared with junhui

—early.

#kwritersworldnet #seventeen #jun #wen junhui #junhui angst #jun angst #junhui imagines #jun imagines #jun drabbles #jun x reader #seventeen angst #seventeen imagines #seventeen drabbles #seventeen x reader

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forever-rogue · 4 years

Text

Step Into the Daylight - Part 3

Summary: While fighting for your own survival, you somehow ended up in the care of one stoic Mandalorian…and his adopted child. (that’s it for now! don’t want to give away too much!)

A/N: Thank you guys so much for the all love and support on part one of this series, it was seriously overwhelming and amazing, and I hope you continue to enjoy this little series. Taglists are open, and as always feedback is welcome! xx

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin x Reader)

Word Count: 5.6k

Warnings: mild violence, language

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

MANDALORIAN MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

You studied yourself in the old warped mirror in the bathroom. It was the only one on the Razor Crest, the only one you’d seen in ages; you’d only caught glimpses of yourself here and there since you’d been on your own. It had been so long you’d almost forgotten what you looked like. You wiped away some of the fog that had built up on it, looking at your face, almost surprised to see who staring back you at you. You hair was longer than it had been in a long time, but otherwise it was the same face that you had always known, sans for the dark circles that were under your eyes. There were still some faint bruising along your jawline, but the soreness was gone. You had healed well and fairly rapidly, having received nothing but the best care from your savoir.

The wounds that had been sprinkled over your body were gone, only one new small scar had been added to your collection. The rest, the ones that wrapped around your back and shoulders were ancient history by now, faded, almost gone but not quite. They would forever serve as a reminder of your past of who you were, who had been forced to be, much like the faded numbering on your arm.

Grabbing the towel that from the rack, you dried your hair as best as you could, detangling it with your fingers before following with suit with drying your body. You reached for your clothes, new clothes courtesy of the Mandalorian and his latest visit to the market place, and touched the soft fabric. The fabric was a tan, accented by a few splashes of red. It was a color you had always fancied, and it had caught you by surprise that he’d chosen that particular one. It was almost like he knew, but he hadn’t; when he’d seen the colors something in him told him those were the ones.

These were by far the finest garments you had ever owned and you almost wanted to reject them, thinking they were far too fine for you, but you couldn’t say no. The delicate way he had handed them to you, telling you he hoped you would find the colors suitable, how he hoped it would be practical for your needs warmed your heart more than words could describe. The Child had even been in on it, dragging a new pair of boots towards as best as he could, despite the fact that they were almost bigger than him. So you had gratefully taken them, asking if you could somehow repay him. But he had just shaken his head now, signaling to you that it was the end of the conversation before slightly stalking away.

Slipping the garments on, you followed up with tying your hair in a loose bun before deciding that you looked suitable, maybe better than you ever had. You stepped out of the bathroom and into the chilly hallway, and found yourself instantly greeted by your small friend. He looked up at you and squeaked with joy, reaching for you with one hand.

“Hi there,” you said softly as you picked him up, looking him over before hugging him tightly. You stood there like that for a few moments, taking it all in as you realized this was probably the last time you’d get to hold him. The thought alone was almost enough to cause tears to flood down your face, “I’m going to miss you, you know. I’m going to miss you more than anyone else in the entire galaxy.”

He looked up at you, giving you a concerned look as you just gave him a misty eyed smile. He reached out and touched your cheek, much like your first encounter with him, delicately wiping at the few tears. How one little soul cared for you so much, you had no one idea, but you could just tell he was more than he appeared to be, “you are so special, buddy. I’ll think of you every day, I promise. Maybe sometimes you’ll think of me too. Can you promise me one thing?”

He looked at you and seemed to nod, his eyes wide with curiosity. You gave his ears some scratches before softly saying, “take care of him. He won’t admit it, but you’re special to him too. You need each other to survive, okay? He takes care of us, so we take care of him. But I’ve got to go. My place isn’t here, but yours is. Promise me?”

He made a small sound, somewhere between understanding and distress. He may have been a child, one who couldn’t properly communicate with you yet, but he understood. He knew what this meant, he knew that you were leaving and this was goodbye. Kissing the top of his head, you set him back down slowly and he plopped onto his small backside, too distressed to get up again and waddle after you.

“I’ll miss you,” you said quietly as swallowed the lump in your throat, “but this is for the best. This is the right thing to do.”

You picked up the small bag you had packed, mostly filled with the items that the Mandalorian had acquired for you. It had almost hurt, taking all the things from him, knowing that your new friend was going out of your life as quickly as he had entered it. You wanted to refuse everything he gave you, but he insisted on at least the necessities. How are you going to survive? You need at least a few basics. You knew he was correct, so you had let him fill the small rucksack for you.

Swinging it over your shoulder, you headed up to the front of the ship to where you could leave. Every step required too much effort, and you suddenly felt lethargic; you really didn’t want to leave, your heart was weighing heavy on you, but your head told you needed to. You had survived on your own since you were a child, learning to survive and adapt, and having had him taking care of you for the last several weeks had made you soft; vulnerable. You needed to learn to toughen up again, not to depend on another. If you remembered that then you would be safe, you would continue to survive. But don’t forget to live too the Mandalorian had reminded you one of the last nights when he was changing your bandages, life can’t be all about survival.

“Were you really going to leave without telling me?” you turned on your heel at the sound of the now all too familiar voice. It had become a welcome sound, and it often caused a jolt of electricity to run through your bones. You found him watching you closely, some fabric wrapped up in his hands as he awaited a response. You felt nervous under his keen gaze suddenly, wishing he hadn’t caught you. It would have been simpler without having to face him, so much less heartbreaking.

“I figured it was easier this way,” you lied. It would have been easier not to see him in person, to have to say an actual goodbye to him. The only goodbyes you’d really experienced were ones involving death, either around you or at your own hands. Those had been hard, they always were, but this felt about ten times as hard, “and you’d be able to put two and two together. I said goodbye to the Child already.”

“I guess this is it. This is goodbye then,” he said as he came closer, each step slow and calculated. He unrolled the fabric he was clutching tightly in his hand, displaying it to you. It was a deep crimson, one that matched the accents on your new clothes, and you immediately knew it was all done deliberately. He held it up and showed you that it was a beautiful cape, similar to his own, “this will help keep you warm.”

“You shouldn’t have...you didn’t have to,” you said quietly as he held it up to drape it gently around your shoulders. For someone so large, he was ever so delicate with how he moved your hair out of the away and tied to the fabric at the hollow of your throat. You looked up to meet his eyes, hoping he was meeting yours even under the helmet. You put your hand gently on his, giving his wrist a gentle squeeze, “thank you. For everything. I owe you my life, I owe you everything.”

“You owe me nothing,” he insisted, a small smile on his face that you couldn’t see, dark misty eyes that threatened to spill over with tears. That pang in the pit of his stomach was strong right now, and he was inclined to not let you leave, preferring if you stayed. The feelings that become so strong over the last few days, and it was slowly dawning on him what they were, even if he wasn’t ready to admit them out loud, “just stay safe out there. The world is yours now.”

“Thank you,” you said softly, avoiding his gaze as you tried not to cry in front of him, “maybe one day our paths will cross again. Until then, stay safe and take care of yourself. You’ve been so busy taking care of everyone else, you need to make sure you’re taking care of yourself too.”

“I will,” he promised quietly before slowly, almost reluctantly, removing his hands from yours. You took a step back from him and gave him a weak smile; you never, not in probably a million years thought you’d get like this over another person. The last time you had, your indiscretion and weakness (or so they called it) had led to their death. But you weren’t worried about this time, you were more worried about how hard it was going to be to get him out of your mind.

“Goodbye,” you said as you started to walk out of the ship and into the early light of day. It was beautiful here, and while you hadn’t explored every single place, you were sure you’d like it all, that you’d be able to make a home there.

“W-wait,” he reached for your hand and grabbed it for a moment, “where will you go?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted, “but it’ll be fine. I’ll find some place. The people here have been kind so far, I’m sure I can ask someone for guidance if I need to.”

“Okay,” he said as he let go, watching you walk down and plant yourself firmly on the lush green ground. He wrestled with himself, but held back, standing at the top and watching you start to walk. It was hard and it took every fiber of his being not to run after you. Instead he quietly said, so softly you almost didn’t hear it, “Din. My name is Din.”

You stopped for a moment, surprised that he told you, surprised that he trusted you enough to provide you with such an intimate detail of who he was. Turning around you gave him a grin, “Din. I like it, it’s perfect.”

“Din Djarin.”

“I hope our paths cross again, Din Djarin,” you said sincerely, “May the force be with you.”

Before he could even say anything else, you gave him a small wave and walked away, leaving him mulling over your last words. He hadn’t heard those words in some time, even after the fall of the Empire, those words were still only spoken in secret. How strange that those would be your parting words; perhaps there was more to you, much more than he had expected or learned so far.

The Child had worked up the energy and found his way to his adopted father, tugging on his pants legs as he made a small cooing sound. Din gently picked him up and held him in his arms as he nodded in agreement, “I know. I shouldn’t have let her go.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Six Months Later

You’d adapted to your new life more quickly and effortlessly than you had expected. Once you’d left Din and the Child, you’d spent several days gathering your bearings, adjusting to not having to hide all the time and allowing yourself to relax. The first couple of nights were the hardest, the ones you cried the most over the loss of our friends, but you kept repeating to yourself that it was for the best.

Once you’d allowed yourself to properly wallow, you wasted no time in going around and looking for suitable work. The community you had settled into was a mix of all sorts of people from all sorts of places that somehow had ended up there, just like you. It was nice to be around other people that didn’t belong anywhere because you all belonged there now, together as a beautiful melting pot of cultures. You’d been lucky enough to find a place to live, staying with a small family and helping them out around their gardens and fields, spending your off days working with a weapons maker, one that actually dealt in honest work and focused on making quality heirloom pieces, not just things that would do harmful, lasting damage to people.

“Good morning, Y/N,” Barto smiled as at you as you entered his shop, ready to assist with whatever he needed for the day, “how are you on this lovely morning?”

“Well,” you grinned at him, taking off the crimson cloak from around your shoulders, touching it fondly before hanging it up, “for someone who was up late last night. Children have so much energy, and with these summer long days, they love staying up late.”

“As do we all,” he laughed and you nodded. It had been hard to deny the positive mood in the community, as the everything was in full bloom and the weather was the most lovely it had been, “I’m afraid I haven’t got anything exciting for you to do. Would you mind terribly cleaning up around the back today?”

“Not at all Barto,” you smiled at him before heading towards the back door, “whatever you need is my pleasure.”

You stepped outside in the small garden area, taking a deep breath as you let the fresh air enter your lungs. It was a beautiful day, and for some reason you had an extra spring your step. You didn’t know why, but something told you today was going to bring something good. That today was going to be different than your others had been.

Soon enough, you were in the midst of clean and tidying up, wiping some of the sweat from your brow when you heard someone running down the dirt pathway leading to the shop. They were breathless, clearly on some kind of mission and you perked up, your interest undeniably piqued. You listened as the door to the shop slammed open, and a young voice started speaking rapidly. You almost instantly recognized it as Gretta, the young girl you lived with, “Barto! Barto! Come quick, we need help.”

“Slow down little one. What’s going on?” he asked as you stepped into the shop, and her eyes flitted to you, wide and wild.

“There’s some kind of fight happening,” she said quietly, “at the market. One of the men, he’s getting hurt, and I didn’t know who else to ask. Please come quick we have to save him!”

Barto looked at you and you didn’t even hesitate for a moment before grabbing a few blasters, strapping them onto your person before running out of the shop, Gretta following hot on your heels. No one else knew your sordid history, or how you’d ended up there, like Barto did. He was your closest confidant, and he trusted you, just liked you trusted him. And he knew you could handle this.

As you neared the market, you could hear screaming and the sounds of blaster fire loud and clear. You put your hand on the small girl’s shoulder, “Gretta, go home right now. Make sure everyone’s at home and stay there, okay? You need to say safe.”

“Y/N, will you be-”

“Yes,” you promised her, pulling her into a quick hug, “just go and I’ll see you soon, I promise.”

She gave you a quick nod before turning and running away, ready to follow your instructions. You let out a long breath before deciding to just go in and see what was happening. There was no time for hesitation now, and you were sure you’d be able to know who to side with.

“Come on assholes,” you shouted, trying to get the attention drawn to you. It was then that you noticed the man in question was outnumbered three to one. Three very large looking brutes to one man, “why don’t you pick one someone your own size? Three to one? You must not be very good if it’s taking that many of you to bring down one man.”

The attention was quickly turned to you as you watched the man who had come to rescue try to scurry away limping as he clutched his side. One of the men smirked, a dangerous look in his eye as your hand immediately went to the trigger of the blaster, “you’ve got a big mouth, little lady.”

“That may be true,” you agreed, giving him a small shrug, “but I’m no lady.”

He thought he’d have you distracted, but you were quick, your skills and instincts stronger than ever as you blasted one of the men. He wasn’t about to get a leg up on you. The first man smirked at you as he took a step closer, “well, well, the little lady knows how to fight.”

“Want to find out how well? Try me,” your old swagger and bravado was slowly coming back as you tried to indicate to the people around that they needed to leave with a few subtle hand motions. They seemed to understand what you were saying as they all ducked away as you strode past them, walking closer and closer to the man.

“I’m already tired of your big mouth,” he sighed and you gave him a smirk. He held up his blaster and tried to get a few shots at you, but you were able to quickly dodge them, “just give up now.”

“I don’t think so,” you said as you quickly formed a plan, scaling the wall of the building and making to the rooftop. It wasn’t a tall building by any means, but just tall enough for you to loom above the man. You made a sound to get his attention, before throwing all caution to the wind and jumping off to get the drop on him, “surprise.”

You’d caught him so off guard that he didn’t have to react before you blasted him and kicked his body away. You hated doing it, you always did, but you were reassured by the fact that he was bad, probably the sort of person that wouldn’t have hesitated to kill you first if he’d had the chance. It was just the one left now and you looked around wildly, trying to find the thug and the man you were attempting to save.

You found them squaring off at the end of the marketplace, the thug at a clear advantage. It was then that you noticed the armor of the lying on the ground. It was silver, polished to a shine that put almost every other piece of armor to shame. Beskar. There was only one man in the galaxy that had a whole suit of beskar. It was him, you had no doubt about it, your stomach falling when you realized what was happening.

“Din,” you shouted as you ran over to him, almost tripping over your own feet. He didn’t respond to his name, and you realized he must have been badly hurt already. The thug with the upper hand raised a rock and got ready to slam it down on Din’s body and all you could do was watch in horror, almost frozen with fear. But something inside snapped, you weren’t sure what it was but you used both hands to push at the thug letting out a loud, “no!”

Before your eyes you watched as the man was sent flying back, smashing against a nearby stall before slumping to the ground. You looked at your hands, examining every inch, watching as they trembled and shook. You weren’t what had happened, what you had done, but something had happened, something in you felt like it was awakened. But you didn’t have time to think about it or process any of it, running over to Din. You instantly dropped to your knees at his side, relieved to see his chest still rising and falling in a steady pattern.

“Din,” you said as put your hands on shoulders, shaking him lightly, “Din, it’s me, it’s me. Y/N. I’m here. Please tell me you’re okay, please be okay. Please be with me.”

Without even thinking about it, he reached up gently and put his hand on your cheek. You cupped it with yours, letting out a sigh of relief as you realized he was still with you. You leaned down and rested your forehead against his helmet, “Y/N. I had to come back.”

“Why?” you asked quietly wondering what in the galaxy could have made him decide to want to come back. It was a beautiful place you were living in now, but it didn’t attract much attention, or bounty hunters for that matter, “what possibly could have possessed you and make you want to come back.”

“You.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

You were humming a soft song under your breath, quietly tending to the wounds that were strewn along Din’s side. He was stripped to his under garments, devoid of the beskar that you’d seen him typically sport. You were reluctant to take it off, but knew you had to do so in order to properly aid him; so you had gently taken each piece off, making sure to clean them all before stowing them away for the time being. You’d left the helmet on, and although he’d never explicitly told you it needed to remain on, you were familiar with the Mandalorian Creed. You were from Mandalore after all.

His skin, surprisingly soft and supple was beautifully tan and warm under your touch. You’d had to swallow the lump in your throat several times as you tried not to fixate on it too much, but there was no denying the feelings seeing it sparked. It was like you were seeing a special part of him, a part no one else generally got to see. But you reminded yourself that you needed to help him, to take care of him, just as he had done to you. And so you did.

You tended to his wounds gently, making sure they were bandaged properly so they would heal without too much permanent damage. When his shirt was pushed up, your eyes landed on the scars and marks that littered his torso. You wondered how he had acquired them, if they each a story behind them. How long they had taken to heal, how much they had hurt him. You traced your fingers gently over them, humming softly under your breath. It was a little lullaby you remembered from your childhood, one of the few memories that were still ingrained in your mind, crystal clear.

At some point you were so engrossed in what you were doing you hadn’t noticed that he was awake; focused on his wounds only you as made sure he was okay. A few times he thought about opening his mouth to speak, to say something, almost anything, but he wasn’t able to. Din was much too enthralled in your work, how his whole body warmed up under your every touch, each caress making the pang in his heart increase. So he remained silent, watching your every move, memorizing every expression that crossed your face, how soft your hands on his body, especially when you stopped intermittently and checked his pulse to make sure it was still going. How you didn’t notice the rapid beating of his heart was beyond on him, but he was thankful that you seemed oblivious to it.

But when you pulled up a chair next to the makeshift cot he was laying on, he almost completely lost his cool. When you gently reached for his hand and held it in yours for what seemed like hours until you fell asleep, he thought he died and had gone to some sort of proverbial heaven. He never once would have thought that the simple act of someone holding his hand would have caused such feelings to stir within him; not until you anyway. Your head slumped on your shoulders as light snores escaped your lips, you looked so peaceful that all he could was to lace his fingers through yours and give your hand a squeeze, promising you that he wouldn’t let go. Eventually at some point, from pain or exhaustion, he fell asleep, the most comfortable sleep he had in the six months since you’d been gone.

»»————-　♡　————-««

The next time he woke up it was to hushed, upset sounding whispers. You were no longer by his side, and he found himself reaching for your hands, only to find emptiness until he scanned the room and found you speaking to a woman he did not recognize.

“Y/N,” she said softly as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your hair. There was an upset look on her face as you left your stomach drop, “I hate to do this, I really do. You’ve become a part of our family, we love you, we all do, but you cannot stay here anymore. You must leave as soon as it is safe.”

“What? Why?” you immediately pulled out of her touch and looked at her with wild eyes as the words crashed over you. Part of you had expected this for a long time; not because they made you feel unwelcome, just because you’d never had a permanent home. All good things had to come to end some way or another, and that feeling had always remained in the back of your mind, “I-I don’t understand. Have I done something wrong?”

“It’s not safe for you here and in turn it’s not safe for our family. You must understand, I just want to keep everyone safe...the children have to come first,” she explained and you wondered what she meant. You’d kept your head down for months and never rocked the boat. None of them even knew about your true past besides Barto and he had never made a big deal out of it, he had accepted you as just another person.

“I-I don’t know what to say,” you admitted as you dabbed at the stinging in your eyes. Don’t let them see you cry; don’t let them see you weak, you reminded yourself, “I haven’t done anything. Nothing’s changed...”

“You never told us that you were a Jedi,” she said quickly, the last word barely audible, and your mouth dropped open in confusion as your brows knitted together. Din was intently listening, unsure of what he was hearing, if it was all some sort of weird fever dream or actually happening. Surely he didn’t hear correctly. Jedi is not a word people used openly, he hadn’t even heard it uttered since the fall of the remaining Jedi.

“What are you...Jedi? I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you finally managed to say, running your hands through your hair in exasperation. It had seen so long since you’d heard that word, but never once had you been accused of being one yourself, “I’m not...no. Surely, you must be mistaken.”

“People saw you, sweetheart. Back there when you saved that man,” she looked at Din for a moment, their eyes locking even if she didn’t know it, “it’s not going to be safe for you anymore. They will come looking for you if you’re here-”

“The Empire is gone…no more. Surely they’re not still hunting…”

“They will continue to look for people like you. It’s not safe for you yet, and no one knows when it will be,” she said quietly as you just tried to process what she was saying. You had no clue where she had gotten the notion that somehow you possessed some of the powers you had only imagined being capable of, “when your friend is well, you have to go. Please know that we don’t want to do this, but it’s for the sake of the community, we have to try and keep it safe.”

“Of course,” you said as you blinked back the hot tears that threatened to spill over and run down your cheeks. There was no sincerity in your declaration, but you didn’t care at that point. Your time had run out and for whatever reason, you needed to go, to find a new place to make a home. You should have known better than to let yourself get comfortable, “I’ll leave as soon as he’s well. His wounds aren’t too bad and he should be good to go after some rest tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” she said gently as you just gave her a curt nod, “you should make sure to lie low for a while. People will be watching closely.”

“I’m not sure what they’re going to be watching,” you sighed as you rubbed your temples; your mind was already hurting from trying to process everything, “but I guess they’re welcome to watch.”

“That man,” she asked as she looked back over at Din, who was wide awake now and listening intently. He stilled for a moment, sure that his jig was up and she could tell he had been listening. But instead she just looked at him, regarding him with interest, “he’s a Mandalorian.”

“Yes.”

“Who is he to you?”

You turned to looked back at Din, a small smile crossed your features. Part of you thought he was awake, almost like you could sense it, but didn’t want to comment on it. Your heart had missed him more than you could have imagined, that must was evident as you looked over his figure; today had reminded you just how strong your connection with him had been, “he’s a friend.”

“Must be an important friend for you to risk everything for him.”

“Yes,” you answered quietly, feeling warmth creeping into your cheeks, “the best of all.”

She gave you a soft look before giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. She was trying her best, you knew she was, but it didn’t make it the situation any easier. Most people in her situation would have done the same; honestly, you probably would have done the same if you were trying to protect your family, if you had any.

Turning away from her as she left you to attend to the Mandalorian, your shoulders slumped with exhaustion. You were tired suddenly, so tired from the events of the day and your conversation and praying to the maker that Din was alright. Making your way over to him, you trailed a hand over his torso, making sure he wasn’t running too hot before flopping back down into the chair beside him.

Din contemplated turning to you and letting you know that he had heard everything, but he remained silent, observing you instead. His heart broke a little when he realized that there were a few silent tears streaming down your face. Even when you had beaten and broken, he’d had seen you like this; this was much worse. You let yourself have a few moments of crying before using the sleeve of your sweater and wiping at your damp eyes, and collecting yourself. You didn’t have time to cry and be weak, you needed a plan - and quick.

You stretched your legs out and rested them on the edge of the bed, mind spinning as you conjured up various plans to escape and remain safe. Eventually, exhaustion took over and your eyes closed against your best efforts, and sleep pulled you in as your head lulled to the side.

Din had remained silent as he had watched you, wishing there was something he could comfort you, to reassure you and remind you that it would be alright and if you were willing he would help you. He knew you were stubborn though, that it would probably take some convincing; but if he had it his way, you would come with him and he have by his sound. There was something that drew him to you, that told him he needed to come back to you, whether it was the force or something else, he wasn’t going to leave your side again.

Once he was sure you were sleeping soundly, he reached over and took one of your hands in his and laced his fingers through yours. He wasn’t sure if you were aware of what was going on or if you could somehow feel what he was doing in your sleep, but a part of him hoped you could. He wished you could feel how much he cared for you, the depth of which he almost couldn’t even explain.

After a while he succumbed to sleep as well, his body most definitely needing the rest. So, he feel asleep holding your hand, faintly humming a tune under his breath, but he had been so out of it he didn’t even realize what was he was doing. It was enough for now, but tomorrow, when you were both awake, he would tell you all the things he had felt you were gone and ask you to come back. And maybe you’d tell him more about your mysterious past; his interest was piqued and he knew he wanted to know everything about you. There was something about you that was just undeniable.

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