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geralts-yenn · 8 months

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Believe in Me - Chapter 7

chapter warnings: oral (f receiving), vampire handling? lol, p-i-v sex, talk about vampire stuff, vampire bites, talk of violence, weapons mentioned, idk, I’m bad with warnings, tell me if I missed something

word count: 4,3k

A/N: I'm back from my summer break and this is what I brought home for you. We got a tiny bit of angst, some fluff, some smut and a lot more angst. Sorry!

Inspo board for this chapter is here

Please let me know what you think - reblogs and comments are always the way to make me happy! Tumblr only works if you reblog. Help me to keep this story alive 😘

Series Masterlist

Everything around Aurora drowned in a fog. She heard August, Charles and Melot talking. Melot shouting even, but not a single word rang through to her. The only sound she noticed was her thundering heart and a high-pitched whistle that rang through her head.

At some point, she felt hands wrapping around her shoulders, and somehow she found herself sitting on the couch in the large lounge room the next moment. There was Maria sitting next to her, holding her hand and Melot on the other side, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

“What’s happening next?” she heard her own voice asking, though she couldn’t remember wanting to talk at all. Melot rubbed his hand along her spine.

“You’ll be staying here. No matter how much I want this to be wrong, August is right. You are in danger. But we’ll be working on a solution.” Aurora wasn’t happy with Melot’s answer but she trusted him and she accepted it.

Maria weighed in: “Hey, at least Charlie could convince August that I can stay with you. I won't leave you alone. Promise!” She was giving Aurora's hand a firm squeeze.

Aurora squirmed nervously on the sofa. “Uh, I might have missed parts of the conversation. Everything after August telling me I was his guest is a blur.” Her head dropped.

Melot leaned forward, pulling Aurora tighter to his side and guiding her to look at him with his fingers gently pressing on her chin.

“August wants Charlie to be your personal bodyguard,” he explained. “I tried everything to convince him to let me do that, but August just doesn't trust me.” Frustration and anger reverberated in his voice.

Charles took over the conversation. “I'm with you in this, okay? Don't fear that I will do anything other than protect you in any way. And I will give you two as much, uh,” he paused to share a small mischievous smile with them. “As much private space as August will allow me to.” Maria shoved an elbow into Charles' side.

“So, my dad’s a god, huh?” It should have sounded like a joke, but everyone could tell that Aurora wasn’t joking right now. She was shocked. Thirty minutes ago, she hadn’t even known gods existed. It wasn’t a far stretch, now that everyone knew about vampires. But she realized she had never thought about the existence of other unearthly creatures.

Another time it was Charles that answered. “It was quite common a few thousand years ago that gods and humans shared their beds, and there were plenty of demigods. But there was always drama surrounding these relationships and with time, gods became more careful. They avoided getting humans pregnant. Actually, I only heard tales of half gods and I’ve been here for quite a while now.” Maria chuckled at his remark. She would have loved to ask him how long exactly, but she didn’t want to interrupt this conversation with her stupid banter.

But Aurora was done with brooding over her situation. She really needed a break. “So my dad is some god who doesn't know about birth control, great. Do I need to know more? Do I have any superpowers? Laser eyes or something cool?” This was making Charles laugh and soon everyone joined, even Melot.

The change of mood lifted a weight from all of their shoulders. They chose to ignore for the rest of the day the total mess that Aurora's life was and the problems that came with it. Melot wasn't supposed to work tonight, and Charlie's new job was just being with Aurora anyway.

So they ordered take out for the girls and just sat together on the couch, watching old sitcoms. They decided it was time to finally catch a breath. Melot and Aurora cuddled on the couch and listened to Maria and Charles throwing pointed remarks at each other. When Aurora was almost drifting off to sleep, Melot got up and guided her back to her room. Charles watched them getting up the stairs, giving a small nod of approval to his cousin.

“Do you want me to stay?” Melot asked, trying to hide the hope in his voice. But Aurora grabbed his shirt and pulled him into the room. “I need you to stay!” she whispered before she started kissing him.

They both dropped on the bed. Melot did quick work with the jersey dress Aurora had hastily put on before rushing to meet August. He hummed as he took in her picture, laying in front of him, only wearing her panties.

“You truly are a goddess!” he whispered in between pressing wet kisses over her whole body. “Let me worship you!” He rolled down the lacy fabric of her underwear and parted her legs with a gentle push at her knees.

When Melot put his mouth on her, Aurora couldn’t help but think of what Maria had told her. ‘He really learned a thing or two over the last centuries’, she thought. Her smile only faded when she couldn’t hold back a moan any longer. His tongue was relentlessly circling her sensitive bud, only interrupting when he sucked and rolled it between his lips every now and then.

She was almost there, the tight feeling growing in her stomach, when he slipped a finger into her.

“Oh my god! Melot!” Aurora cried out. Aurora’s eyes rolled back in her head with the way his finger just hit the right spot. And when his mouth found back to her clit, she came undone. She arched her back and her legs quivered around Melot's curls.

He got up and watched her hungrily as she lay spent on the bed.

With a blink of an eye, all his clothes were gone. Aurora gazed at the perfect body in front of her, biting her lip.

“I could get used to those vampire tricks,” she laughed.

Another blink and she was pinned against the wall. Melot held her wrists with one hand above her head while his other one took the rest of her weight effortlessly, wrapped around her thigh.

“Could you?” His voice dropped seductively. Aurora was panting as she felt his hard cock press against her. If it meant he'd take her like this, yes she could.

“Please, fuck me!” she pleaded, and Melot was eager to obey. He guided Aurora to sink down on his length. Both of them moaned into each other's mouths as Melot started to move.

Pressed against the wall, Aurora wasn't able to control anything, so she just closed her eyes and focused on taking in as much as she could of her lover. She felt Melot's cock pushing in and out, his hips crashing against her skin. His fingers digging into her flesh, his chest trapping her own frame, his soft hair brushing over her hardened buds with every jolt. She felt the sweet ache of her arms restrained in Melot's tight grip.

It didn't take long until she felt another orgasm approach. But just as she was about to fall over the edge, Melot had moved her another time. She was on the bed, on her stomach, her ass high in the air.

“This is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Melot purred as he was running his fingers along Aurora's sides until they rested on her cheeks. Then his cock was finally filling her again.

His strokes were hard and fast now, almost desperate, and Aurora gasped as she felt him so incredibly deep inside of her.

Melot bent forward, his mouth lapping and sucking at the soft skin of Aurora's neck.

“I need to come, baby, or else I can't hold back any longer. Your scent is too sweet.” Melot snarled and as his fangs scraped along her skin she knew what he yearned for. And Aurora wanted him to pierce her flesh and drink from her.

Instead, they both crashed their bodies frantically into each other.

Melot laced his fingers with Aurora's and guided her hand to press down on her belly. A gasp escaped her as she felt him move inside of her.

Their desperate search for release was finally over when Aurora reached her high first and took Melot with her, her walls clenching around him.

Melot dropped on the bed beside Aurora, pulling her into a tight embrace.

“You have no idea of how much I love you!” Melot's voice was hoarse as he told her what he wasn't afraid to admit any longer.

Aurora enjoyed the pure bliss it was to lie in Melot's arms. Humming, she turned so that she was resting on his broad chest, her eyes locked with Melot's. His pupils were blown wide, almost no red visible any longer as he watched her.

“What is it that makes us feel this way, Melot? Is this real? It feels so real…”

His fingers traced along her jaw.

“I don't care what it is, as long as it makes me feel the way I feel right now. My whole life, I thought some part of me was missing. And now I know it was you. With you beside me, I feel whole.”

They kissed for a while, then they made love another time. And just as they got out of the shower and thought they should get some sleep, Melot's phone rang.

With a groan, he took the call, August's name on the display a clear sign that he couldn't ignore it. He didn't say much, but the feelings reflected on his face told Aurora that Melot didn't like what the king had to say to his nephew.

After he ended the call, Melot ran a hand over his face. He dropped on the bed next to where Aurora sat.

“I got the order to work a day shift. The Warriors of Light are up to something big. And I'm the only one who can spy on them while they expect us to hide from the sun.”

“Wait, so you'll have to go now? You haven't slept a minute!” Aurora didn't want him to leave her. She needed him. There was still so much to resolve with August. And she was scared that Melot would put himself in danger.

“Technically, we don't need to sleep, my love. Though I have to admit a bit of rest would have been helpful.” When he looked into her wide eyes, he realized her fear. “Don't worry, it's just an observation job. I'll be back with you in no time.” Melot pressed a kiss on Aurora's forehead before he got up and started dressing.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door. Melot let Charles in, who took a seat in one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace.

“You need to feed from her!” he said tonelessly. Both Melot's and Aurora's head shot up to watch Charles in shock.

“What?” Melot shouted. “August would kill him!” Aurora added. But Charles shook his head.

“Look, you've been through a lot the last few days. I guess you haven't slept in a while.” Melot nodded while Charlie continued. “I have a bad feeling about that whole Warrior of Light thing. I fear this is bigger than August thinks it is. And it's a day mission. Melot, you won't be able to get help and the sun will weaken you further.” He took a deep sigh. “Feed from her. You will need the extra strength. I will stay with you and make sure you can stop. And I make sure August won't notice.”

Aurora and Melot locked their eyes, both confused about what to do.

“Do you really think I am incapable of handling this on my own?” Melot asked, a tint of bitterness in his voice, even if he wanted nothing more than what Charles had just suggested to him.

“No, Melot. I just don't want to take a risk. Aurora needs you. And I do, too. If her blood can help to keep you safe, we need to take that chance.”

“He's right!” Aurora acknowledged. “Please let me help you!”

Melot's gaze fell from Aurora's face to her throat, then to Charles, who nodded at him and back to Aurora. He sat down next to her and brushed a finger over her jugular that she held exposed to him.

“I wish I could, darling, but we need to be careful. August would notice new wounds on your throat, even with your godly healing abilities.”

He took Aurora's wrist, where August's bite was still visible as two tiny red spots.

Melot kissed the soft skin of her arm. And after checking that both Aurora and Charlie were ready, he sank his fangs into her exactly at the same place as August had done.

Aurora could feel how Melot's and her own hearts were beating in unison. A warm feeling of happiness spread in her chest. Melot's pupils were blown, even more as when they had loved each other. But this time he was able to keep himself from losing his mind. This time he was prepared for the sensation of tasting her, which made it easier for him to stop.

After a few gulps, he pulled back, licking carefully over Aurora's wounds. His hands were shaking as he cupped her cheeks and kissed her softly.

“Thank you!” he gasped, barely audible to Aurora.

They held each other in a tight embrace. Aurora felt Melot's heart race in his chest, faster than a normal human would have survived.

Then he broke away from their embrace and walked to the door. Charles was by his side the next moment, and Melot patted him on his back, “Thank you, brother.” Then his eyes locked a last time with Aurora. “I'll be back soon. I love you.” And then he left the room.

Charles was about to follow when Aurora called after him. “Why did you do that?” she asked.

Charles sat down next to her. “Because I love him. Just don't tell anyone! Especially not him.” Both of them chuckled.

“You know, he's a different person since he has found you. And I really like seeing him that happy. I will give everything to protect you two.”

Charlie got up again. “You should get some sleep! I will wait outside until you are awake again. Then we'll see how Maria and I can distract you from missing that fool.”

It was hours later when Aurora woke up again. She found Maria and Charles on the couch. Maria straddling Charles' thighs and Charles feeding from Maria's neck, to be precise.

“Sorry! I didn't mean to disturb you!” she said, but Maria objected that she wasn't disturbing at all. “Charlie's just having breakfast,” she said with a wide smile.

Still feeling a bit like an intruder, Aurora took her time to prepare some cereals and pour herself a cup of coffee. Then she sat down on the far side of the couch, doing her best to ignore the other two.

When Charles was done with feeding, he left them, saying he needed to get some things done for August.

The two other vampires that took his place in guarding Aurora were standing at the door, watching her and Maria attentively and it felt so much more awkward as with Charles. But that's what Aurora's new life looked like and she tried to ignore it as much as she could.

“How do you feel, sweetheart?” Maria was making herself comfortable on the couch by her side.

“It's okay, I guess? Still not really comprehending that I'm imprisoned here. And it's a nice prison, to be fair. Especially when Melot is here with me. But I am still scared of what's to come.” Maria nodded sympathetically.

The two girls did their best to avoid the topic of Aurora being a demigoddess, a dangerous weapon and the hostage of a vampire for the next few hours. Exploring the garden, the pool area and the entertainment system helped a lot to forget. But even all the advantages of being locked away in a large mansion of an unreasonably rich vampire got boring after a while. That's why Charles found them both studying when he got back to them.

“You know you can't go back to college anytime soon, right?” he asked with a raised eyebrow that made Maria roll back her eyes dramatically. “Doesn't mean she shouldn't use her brain anymore, does it?”

Aurora would have laughed about those two, still denying that they liked each other, but as it was almost midnight by now, she was starting to get nervous. Melot's job was supposed to be done during daytime. He should have been home by now. Aurora hoped that at least Charlie had heard from him, but he had to disappoint her. “I'm sorry! I tried to call him but he wouldn't answer. He only sent me a message that he'd call back later.”

Aurora checked her own phone once more, but there weren't any messages from Melot, so she tried to distract herself by going through her essay once more.

Another hour later, August entered the lounge room. The same as the last time she had met him, Aurora noticed that the room felt colder suddenly and a tension was filling her soul.

Everyone sank their heads as they greeted him, but August just waved with his long fingers to show them they could relax.

When his gaze fell onto the girls, he frowned. “You won't be back to studying, Aurora. Did you not understand?” Charles chuckled and told his uncle that he already pointed this out, and Aurora saw how Maria bit her lip to suppress the same comment she had snapped at Charles earlier.

August's eyes were still locked on Aurora and Maria. “Not to appear patronizing, but ladies, I am a person who cares very deeply about aesthetics. Would you please adjust your wardrobe to my standards? I can't accept you hanging around here in sweatpants.” He opened his wallet and took out a credit card, throwing it onto the coffee table. “Charles, could you please help them find appropriate apparel?” Without waiting for an answer, he left the room. Maria looked from Aurora to Charles and broke out in laughter. “He's serious, right?”

Charles' smile widened. “Dead serious! He loves to gather nice-looking things around him. Go shopping, ladies!” He took Maria's laptop and opened a website full of lingerie that cost almost as much as the rent of Maria's apartment. With a wink, he turned the computer back to the girls.

As the night went on, Aurora got more and more nervous. Melot still wasn't home, he didn't answer calls. Charles tried to calm her, saying that this wasn't something unusual. Sometimes a job just didn't work out as planned. Maria finally managed to convince Aurora that she needed some sleep when the sky was already turning bright. And Aurora drifted away to sleep way faster than she expected.

The clock on the bedside table showed 5:34pm when she woke up again. Immediately she grabbed her phone, but there were still no messages or calls. She didn't bother to get out of her pajamas. When she got out of her room, Mike got up from the chair that was standing next to her door. So it was his turn to guard her. Aurora ignored him, running down the stairs where she found Charles.

He was running up and down the room, his phone pressed to his ear. When his eyes met Aurora's she knew immediately that Charles' patience was gone by now, too. He was looking concerned.

“Aurora! Did he call you?” He already knew the answer but he had to ask anyway. As she shook her head and tears gathered in her eyes, he wrapped his arms around her.

“Damn! I'll talk to August! I'm taking a team to the warehouse. We'll get him.”

He was waving at Mike, who was still standing at the stairs. Even the usually so cheerful vampire had a hint of panic in his expression.

“Mikey, take her to Maria's room and keep watching them.” Mike nodded and guided Aurora back up the stairs.

Charles was gone before Aurora set her foot on the first step. He knocked at August's door, not caring that the king didn't like to be bothered in his private rooms.

“Come in, Charles!” he heard the king saying, the annoyance clearly notable in his voice.

Charles took a deep breath and opened the door. It wouldn’t be easy to talk to August, but they had to do something about Melot. No matter what caused him to stay away so long, if he were safe, he would have called by now.

“Melot and you make it quite the habit to disturb me way too early into the night. I don’t like that! So please tell me it’s something important”

August was sitting in his bed, his back rested against the headboard. Tight-lipped, he watched as Charles bowed before him.

“Melot is still not back. It’s been more than 24 hours since I last heard from him, and that was only a brief message. I really think he’s in trouble. August, please, let me take some of your men to get him.” The king brushed with his fingers over his mustache.

“You’re not very confident in your cousin's abilities, Charles. I think we should give Melot a chance to work things out on his own.” August didn’t seem to be concerned in any way by Melot’s disappearance. Charles couldn’t believe it, and his anger made him talk without thinking.

“What’s wrong with you, August? You are always talking about us as a family. But you treat us like we are your servants. And especially Melot always gets your anger and disapproval, no matter what he does. Why can’t you be supportive of him for once? He needs your help!”

August rose from his bed and was next to Charles in a second. But to Charles surprise, he didn’t rip out his throat. Instead, he guided Charles to sit down and took the chair next to him.

“Listen, I may be appearing hostile to you, but it’s all for your own good. This is the way I support you. You are learning so much more if you can’t rely on me all the time. If you need to work out things on your own. You are important to me. All of you that I gather around me. You are my family. And Melot - he is special. He is capable of more than he knows. More than any of us knows. And with my constant criticism, I can bring him into the position that he once will need to take. He needs to find out how incredibly talented he is. I can’t do that for him.”

It isn’t very often that Charles was left speechless but at this moment he was. That was not what he had expected to hear after he had lost his temper with the king. He couldn’t believe that he wasn’t supposed to be punished for his words.

“Thank you for your honesty, your majesty. But please let me take at least Syverson and Marshall to the warehouse and see what’s happening there. Your safety is in danger, too, as long as the Warriors of Light are still working on their plans.”

After a moment of thinking, August replied, shaking his head. “Syverson and Marshall are needed at the club. But you can take Mike and Will. Go see what is happening but don’t make it a bloodbath. We need to be careful, we’re bound to laws now. People are still fearing us and we want this to change.”

Charles was thankful that he got the approval to get Melot and he didn't want to lose another minute. "What about Aurora?" he asked, realizing that there won't be anyone to guard her.

"I will take care of her myself." August got dressed as the other vampire watched him suspiciously. "Don't look at me like this." The king chuckled deeply. "She's Melot's. I won't touch her. I'm not a monster."

It took Charles only a minute to gather everyone and everything in the living room. All sorts of weapons were splayed out on the kitchen counter. Charles, Mike and Will were dividing them amongst each other while discussing plans.

Aurora was balled up on the couch, crying her heart out, Maria giving her best to spend some comfort to her friend. August was leaning against a wall watching them all calmly.

And then there was this sound. Aurora's head shot up. Would Melot use the doorbell if he was back? Probably not, but that didn't stop her hoping that it was her boyfriend.

Charles looked at August with a frown. "We don't get visitors that need to use the gate often." He explained to Maria and Aurora as he walked to the entrance. When he switched on the monitor, Aurora gasped.

"I need to talk to the king!" said the woman standing at the gate. Aurora started crying again.

"It's Tara. My sister." It was not the time to argue with her family about her living situation with vampires. And Charles must have thought the same. He answered through the intercom.

"Tara, Aurora is here on her own accord. We won't be discussing her decision with you. Please leave our property." But Tara was shaking her head.

"I'm not here because of Aurora. I'm here because of Melot. He needs your help."

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Part 8

#believe in me #vampire au #melot x ofc #melot fanfiction #modern au melot #vampire!melot #vampire!charles #vampire!august #my writing

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summerbummin · 3 years

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Headcanons about Apollo and his former lovers from TOA

Naomi Solace 🎤

-Her and Apollo met when she was singing at a dive bar, he bought her a drink and they had a whirlwind summer fling

-They loved hitting up karaoke bars together and wowing everyone with their singing talent

-She really liked Apollo’s car and they’d did a lot of things in there (including conceiving Will lmao)

-One time when they were making out Naomi climbed into Apollo’s seat and her butt accidentally hit the steering wheel and HOOONK

-They jolted in surprise, then delved into hysterics, anything they had going on dying down as they laid their heads against each other’s shoulders and laughed so hard their ribs hurt, until Apollo suggested they used the back seat and things got going again lol

-Once Naomi said Jesus Christ in like response to smth, Apollo replied actually I’m Phoebus Apollo and Naomi was like what? And Apollo was like whaaaaat and Naomi just moved on bc she had other things to deal with lol

-Apollo ended up saying goodbye and leaving at the end of summer and a few weeks after he left Naomi realized she was pregnant and was like well shit

-She’s from the south and people there can be p judgmental about pregnancies outside of marriage, but Naomi never let them get her down, she actually met this great support group of women who helped her out and are still good friends even now

-Apollo eased her labor pains when she was giving birth to Will (and that’s why the kid has such good medical powers), but Apollo disguised himself as a nurse, not wanting to stress her out because the ex who she thought had no idea abt the baby was here, with her, holding her hand while she was gave birth

-Naomi brings Will up with love and kindness and she just wants the best for her sweet boy, but she gets concerned when Will talks about some weird things he saw at school and he gets pegged as the “weird kid” and is picked on by his classmates as a result

-Naomi would’ve fought those kids but Will told her it was fine, mama! His stuffed animals were his friends

-Will loved those stuffed animals and got really attached to them, so Naomi taught him how to sow them up when they started fraying and that’s the first thing that made Will want to be a doctor (when Will told his siblings this story they started calling him Doc McStuffins lol)

-Apollo didn’t tell Naomi he was a god and she didn’t find out until Apollo sent a satyr to bring Will to camp once he was old enough

-Realizing she had a fling with a greek god was a bit of a shock but Naomi dealt with it gracefully and gave Will the biggest hug before he left, making him promise to be safe and write to her as soon as he got to camp

-Naomi’s career as a country alt singer got a lot more successful after her whole thing with Apollo because he put a blessing on her, her voice was beautiful she just needed help getting noticed so Apollo nudged some influential people in the music industry towards her on his way out (he kinda felt bad about leaving so abruptly, even if it was just a fling, he tries to make it up to his ex-lovers with things like this)

-Naomi actually ends up writing a sad country love song about Apollo after he left, she titled it Suburn, not knowing how fitting the title is until years later, it becomes one of her most popular songs

-Naomi travels a lot for her career, touring around Texas and some nearby states, and that’s why Will stays at camp year round, but they write to each other frequently and love each other sm

-Naomi doesn’t date much since she’s always busy with her career and traveling, she’s just not ready to settle down yet, she’s happy living as a free spirit and a single mom with a wonderful son

-Naomi is 100% supportive of Will’s sexuality and loves Nico to bits (Nico is a little awkward around her at first bc he’s not used to affection lol)

-She tells Nico stories abt Will when he was a kid, whipping out photo albums and everything and Will is like mom s t a h p ur embarrassing me in front of my bf and Nico is reveling in how red his face gets

Latricia Lake 🎶

-she met Apollo when he was posing as a street performer for fun on the streets of the college town she worked in

-she put a tip in his guitar case and complimented his playing and his voice, Apollo was pleased by this and complimented her in turn, saying she must know her music which made Latricia laugh because she is a professor

-the two of them hit it off and start dating, spending hours talking about music

-being the god of music, Apollo could tell when people really loved music, feeling loved in return, and Latricia was one of those people

-being a college professor, Latricia was a bit older than Apollo’s usual lovers (she’s like in her mid to late 20s) and Apollo looks like 21, so he jokingly starts calling her a cougar just to tease her (when he’s so full of shit bc he’s over 3 thousand years older than her)

-Apollo attended some of her lectures, watching from the back of the room and her students were like ooh who’s that hot guy and she was like my bf and their jaws dropped bc daaamn ms lake way to go (Apollo found those reactions very amusing lol)

-There are many times when Latricia considers smacking that smug smirk off Apollo’s face, but she refrains and smacks his ass instead

-Apollo claims Latricia only loves him for his pancakes bc he made them for her the morning after their first time as a way to get her to keep him around lol (and it worked a little too well)

-When Latricia got pregnant Apollo told her who/what he really was and that was a bit too much for Latricia so they stopped dating but Apollo gave her the briefing about demigod children, powers, monsters, camp half blood, etc before he left

-One day when her sitter had to cancel on her she brought Austin to her class and all the college kids thought he was so cute that Latricia started bringing him around more often, Austin was just a baby but she could tell he loved the attention by the way he was gurgling lol (like father like son)

-Latricia is p busy since she’s a professor but she always makes time for her son and she has been teaching Austin about music since he was a kid, he grew up surrounded by it and that’s why he loves it sm (that and being a son of Apollo)

-On his 10th birthday there was a really nice new saxophone with a ribbon at the foot of his bed (a gift from Apollo) Austin always thought his mom bought it for him and Latricia just didn’t correct him

-Latricia sent Austin to camp half blood when he told her he saw a monster at school, he was only 11 but Latricia would rather be safe then sorry

-Latricia actually met someone while Austin was at his first year of camp, Austin was a little unsure around the guy at first but more out of awkwardness than anything the guy was lacking

-Austin and him bonded over “being boys” as Latricia put it (they blew up hot dogs in the microwave together) and the man soon had her son’s stamp of approval

-They ended up getting married the next year and Austin played the saxophone at their wedding

-Latricia was the first subscriber to his YouTube channel and showed all her coworkers and students her son’s videos, she’s a proud mama

Darren Knowles 🏹

-gay (obviously)

-he loves the outdoors and the crisp cold weather of Canada

-met Apollo when he saw him checking out the flier he had pinned up advertising his archery classes, Darren asked if he was gonna join and Apollo not so subtly checked Darren out over his sunglasses and was like well now I’m def joining

-Darren lowkey thought Apollo was a dumb American tourist at first and Apollo keeps telling him he’s not American and Darren is like uh huh

-Apollo is such a flirt during class and actually misses a few shots bc he too busy staring at Darren lol, but that does give the opportunity for Darren to come and “correct” his stance

-Darren is determined to be a professional with his students but he ends up caving because Apollo is just,, so cute

-Then when they start going on actual dates he finds out Apollo isn’t some dumb blond and is actually really intelligent and educated and Darren is like oh no my weakness, guys who are goofs but not dumb and also hot (Apollo be checking all of his boxes lol)

-Apollo told Darren he was a god while drunk off his ass one night and Darren didn’t believe a fucking word, Apollo just rolled with the drunken nonsense thing the next morning and didn’t tell Darren again (until Kayla)

-Darren lives alone but he’s always wanted a family, he was kicked out by his parents for being gay and he knows if he was a parent he would never treat his child like that, he’d love them unconditionally like his parents should’ve loved him

-Apollo magically created a child for Darren after the man confessed to him how much he wanted a kid of his own

-Darren was happy but like really confused because h... how? And Apollo is just like magic~ which explains fuck all

-Apollo tells him he has to leave now, he was having to leave soon anyway because of some trouble brewing back in America, but that he wanted to do this one last thing for Darren before he left

-he tells him to have take care raising the baby and to send her to cbh’s address when she starts attracting monsters, then poofs away, leaving Darren with a baby in his arms and wondering what the hell just happened

-Darren does raise Kayla with love and care just as he said he would, she grows up hiking through the woods with her dad and learning archery along with other wilderness skills (Artemis would really like her)

-Kayla has her aspirations for the Olympics pretty early on and Darren admires his daughter’s ambition, at first he thinks it’s just her being a kid but then later on as she keeps getting better and better he’s like damn she might actually be able to do it

-But then ofc monsters come and Darren drives her down to New York, lying through his teeth to the border guy who surprisingly lets him through without a problem (Apollo may have insured that but shhh)

-Darren sees her off at the barrier of Thalia’s pine tree and they say goodbye with a hug that lifts Kayla off her feet, there’s promises to write and reminders to practice her archery and take care of her bow and such before Kayla is escorted into camp by some other campers

-Darren managed to keep a hold of himself while saying goodbye but as soon as he’s back in the car he’s fucking bawling, all the way back to Canada because he’s gonna miss his little girl sm

-Darren has had some boyfriends but a lot of them end up jetting as soon as he tells them he has a kid ripp

-He does eventually land a good man and they’re going strong, even when Kayla, who was like 10 at the time, threatened to shoot him in the nads if he hurt her dad

-Darren and shows up to every archery match Kayla has in the future and promises to be there cheering for her with a big ass sign that says THATS MY DAUGHTER when she eventually reaches the Olympics

Bonus!

Georgina’s Mom 🎨

-She was an art student in community college

-She was on her own because her parents refused to support her “unrealistic” career choice

-She met Apollo at a party at some college dorm and they both got super smashed bc college parties be like that

-They had a one night stand that both of them mostly forgot about in favor of their hangovers the next morning

-until Hello!! You have a kid!

-She is most likely dead given that Georgina was led to the waystation by a ghost

-But Georgina has two new mommies now who love her very much (and an awkward dad)

#naomi solace #latricia lake #darren knowles #trials of apollo #toa #pjo #apollo #apollo pjo #will solace #austin lake #kayla knowles #georgina #georgina pjo #headcanons

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deniigi · 3 years

Note

A fic from Boba’s POV as a babysitter seeing Din’s family dynamics isn’t self indulgent it’s indulgent to your readers - fuck, that sounds like the best, most hilarious thing ever?!? (With peppered in bits of Boba’s identity crisis/diaspora feels)

I say you release babysitter boba fic ;) It sounds hilarious

Ask and you shall receive, anons. Beware. It’s like 11k of world building lol.

(I will post here and not on Ao3 because I’m not ready for that level of commitment rn lol)

Title: in the plains of Zeffo

Summary:

“I don’t like him,” Karren told Din.

“Concurred,” Din said.

“Ad’ika,” the Armorer scolded.

“I will not be shamed into liking him, either,” Din asserted.

“Din,” Karren whined.

“I’ll consider coming home if it means there will be no space for Bojzka,” Din said.

(Din’s original finder’s old crush on the Armorer is rekindled after he helps her reunite with Din. He tries to win her favor, but keeps getting tripped up by Din who knows she’s not interested. Boba Fett’s POV.)

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

There was little more entertaining than watching Djarin snap.

Boba ten years ago would have spat at the very idea that such meagre fare would suit his humor, but he was getting old, man. You had to take what you could get, and Djarin’s bared rage was a sight to behold.

Currently, he was locked in combat with Urro Bojzka. The Urro Bojzka. The one who even Boba had heard of, growing up on Kamino.

Dad had had some pointed feelings about Mr. Bojzka. Mainly, they revolved around how it was unfair that everyone called him an opportunistic traitor when Bojzka continued to exist and thrive in the universe at large, but Dad also had more specific feelings about Bojzka that bordered on jealousy.

Urro Bojzka was said to be the ideal Mandalorian man.

He was big. He was strong. He sounded like he’d smoked six different kinds of spice for forty years, and nothing and no one could take him down.

The cherry on top was that he was notorious for rescuing kids. The man had snatched nearly two hundred up out of smoking ruins and battlefields. A good twenty or thirty had become foundlings and then Mandalorians themselves, and counted among their number now, to Bo-Katan’s absolute glee, was their sweet, precious Din Djarin.

They should have known. Din was the epitome of Mandalorian; it figured that Urro Bojzka himself would have picked him up as a child.

Din however, had little appreciation for this fact beyond that which was only polite. He made it very clear that he’d already thanked Bojzka for taking him out of his childhood hellhole. He’d done that bare minimum and so no one could ask anything more of him.

Bojzka had other plans.

It turned out that Urro Bojzka had a thing for Din’s covert’s Armorer. God, did he have a thing. And not only did he have a thing, but he’d had it for decades.

Apparently, a thousand years ago, when Boba and Din and all the others around them had still been rolling around on dirt floors trying to eat beetles and shit, Bojzka had attempted to court Din’s Armorer. He’d gone as far and wide as a young Mando could. He’d tried flowers, perfume, credits, displays of strength and courage. He’d tried gifts of food and offers of travel. He’d even stooped so low as to read a book.

None of it had gone well for him. And that was probably because Din’s Armorer had recently proven herself to be no less than one of the heiresses of the Katzkai clan.

The Renda Bears. Those people were hard-fucking-core.

When Bo-Katan found out that Din’s ‘Goran’ was, in fact, Nomri Katzkai, the second daughter of Lanlee Katzai and the official apprentice of Fii Katzkai, the imperial Armorer himself, she threw up her hands and declared all endeavors hopeless now.

Din was one of them; he just didn’t know it. And his buir, who had removed herself from her family to be even more hardcore than anyone would have thought possible, didn’t seem overly excited to start explaining shit to him anytime soon.

So here they were. With Din about to kill one of the most famous war heroes in recent Mandalorian history over a crush that wouldn’t quit.

Bojzka smiled at him with dark eyes with scars through both of his eyebrows.

“Just a message,” he lobbied. “One letter.”

Boba would’ve fucked him. Yeah, why not? Just look at him.

“She’s busy,” Din said. “You’ll have to submit it to Eegang Quodo. That’s E-e-g-a—”

“Yeah, see. Here’s the thing, kid. This letter’s gonna be kinda personal, if you catch my drift—”

“Q-u-o—”

“—probably not great for the eyes of anyone who ain’t, you know, in on this whole relationship—”

“—d-o. He’s usually busy, too. So you probably should submit it to Paz, instead. He’ll lose it for you forever. That’s P-a-z—”

Fennec hid a razor-sharp grin behind a clenched fist. She flashed it at Boba.

‘I love him’ she mouthed, pointing at Din’s hiked-up shoulders. Even his cape seemed to have gone stiff in Bojzka’s presence.

“Din, honey. Listen to me,” Bojzka crooned. “I know you’re protective of your mama, but—”

“She’s not my mother. Don’t you fucking dare call her that, you hulking piece of—”

“Ah-ah-ah. You’re not listening. Come on. Chin up. Ears open.”

Bojzka tapped at the bottom of Din’s helmet like a CO with a teenage recruit, and Fennec just about screamed when Din went completely still and silent.

Bo-Katan met Boba’s gaze out of the corner of her eye. She mimed a syringe. Boba shook his head. If this fucker got bit, he deserved whatever infection it brought.

“Atta boy,” Bojzka said to Din’s rigid silence. “Here’s how it is: your mama and me go way, way back. And you know, after your touching reunion the other week, she even went and had a drink with me, and we got to talkin’ and started to reconnect, the old folks do. And I could read her body language, Din-Din. She wants a man. And that man’s me. So instead of actin’ like a child over all this, why don’t we—”

“She wanted Naseem,” Din snapped. “But Naseem died. Twenty years ago, he died. You just wear similar boots.”

Get ‘im, Djarin. Get ‘im.

“I—who?” Bojzka snapped.

“Naseem,” Din repeated like he was an idiot. “Traditional, bantha-sized, green armor. He worked all the time to keep all the kids in the covert fed.”

Bojzka processed this.

“Naseem what?” he asked stiffly.

“He’s dead,” Din said. “And Hajka left. So no. Goran needs neither a man or a woman, and especially not you. What she needs is a break and for Karren to stop fighting people on sight.”

Bojzka backtracked like a champ.

“Karren, that’s her youngest, right?” he asked. “Well, I bet Karren could use some sisters. I bet he’s lonely over there on, uh.”

“Zeffo,” Din gritted out. “And no. He’s not. He has three sisters. One of which is still at the covert, terrorizing him left and right.”

Even Bo-Katan could only empathize so much with Bojzka, war hero or nah.

“Why’re you all up in arms, Din? What’d I do to you?” Bojzka finally asked. “Don’t you want your buir to be happy?”

Din’s shoulders finally came down from his helmet.

“Of course, I do,” he said. “Which is why if you set so much as a toe on Zeffo, I’m taking both of your knees with me to Yavin.”

Any parent would have been proud to have Din as their child. He took family honor to a level that even the Katzkai clan would have had a hard time sniffing at.

He had to have learned this from the wayward heiress. Although, if Boba was honest, he didn’t really think that the wayward heiress was all that wayward.

She’d come to visit Din on Tatooine. She was short and stocky and not terribly interested in the court or anyone outside of Din.

She wasn’t nearly as hostile as Bo-Katan expected either. She didn’t appear to love anything that she was looking at, no, but Din had explained that that was mostly because she wasn’t really a fan of him having become Mand’alor to start with.

When she came to visit, anyways, she was far more interested in getting a good fuss in to give herself peace of mind that Din was okay. That way she could then go back to dealing with the apparently endless series of crises at the new covert.

She was a great parent in that way. She even brought along her youngest, so that he could see his big brother.

That kid was fuckin’ adorable. Maybe fourteen or fifteen years old. Barely, barely, barely in armor. He was strapped into his leathers so tight, he looked like he was stuffed with straw.

He had medium-brown skin with yellow undertones and huge, nearly-black eyes. Coarse black hair poured into his face and curled around his ears—and if he thought he was going to stuff all that in a helmet one day, he had another thing coming.

He bopped after his buir when they entered the palace and stopped occasionally to stare up in awe at the palace’s high ceilings. Upon realizing that he’d lost his escort, he scampered along to catch up and did the whole thing again and again until buir had enough and snatched his hand.

He didn’t like that. He was fourteen-fifteen years old. He was too big for hand-holding, buir.

Never too old to be ignored, though.

“Goraaaaaan.”

“Hush,” the Armorer told him. “Keep up.”

He was handed off to Boba outside Din’s personal quarters, mostly because he was making such a fuss at the Armorer that she began contemplating leaving him at the palace forever. Din intervened and the kid latched onto him instead until Din convinced him that he’d be available talk just as soon as he and their buir were done speaking.

The kid’s name was Karren.

He and Boba were now best friends.

“—so Goran said, ‘I’m not having that idiot in my rooms.’ But then Eegang said, ‘we already have Paz in these rooms,’ and you’re not supposed to laugh, Mr. Fett, but we all did because we’re all stupid. So we had to do like, a thousand chores for eavesdropping.”

“So she’s not into him, then?” Fennec clarified. “He’s really into her, you know.”

“Of course, I know,” Karren lamented. “But Goran’s picky and the last person she was all close with was Hajka and we’re not allowed to talk about her anymore or Din’ll make you do two hundred push-ups while he watches.”

Amazing. Say more about Din’s oldest-child syndrome, little one.

“No, I like Din,” Karren sighed. “Now that Digo’s gone, he’s even nicer.”

Oh?

“What happened to Digo?” Boba asked as Bo-Katan joined them in curiosity.

“Digo’s a jerk is what happened,” Karren huffed. “She wanted Goran to give over the forge and join the elders, but Goran isn’t even that old. So when she said ‘no,’ Digo got mad and said that the only foundling Goran respects is Din. Which is bullshit because everyone knows that Goran has always been the nicest with Digo and Nasif—she made all sorts of excuses for them, Mr. Fett, like when they went out and got caught stealing parts like Jawas, she did four whole hunts to raise their bail. When Din gets in trouble, he takes care of it himself. He doesn’t ask Goran to do that kind of thing. And me and Shimmol just don’t get in that kind of trouble to start with—but no. Digo had to be all ‘if you don’t treat us as equals, then we’re gonna leave and start our own forge.’”

“No kidding,” Fennec said. “So they left?”

“Yeah, both of them ‘cause Nasif does anything Digo tells her to,” Karren said, kicking his feet. “And good riddance.”

Too many sisters, this one had. Boba felt for him.

“So Goran’s still recovering from that betrayal, I take it?” he asked.

Karren frowned and chewed a lip.

“I dunno,” he admitted. “No one tells me anything. I think that Goran’s been more worried about Din than them after all that happened. We thought he got crunched by the jedi—or at least I thought he got crunched. Paz says that Jedis compact Mandalorians into cubes of armor and Din’s got the best armor.”

Do not laugh at the child. Do not laugh at the child.

“I don’t think Jedis crunch Mandalorians,” Bo-Katan said generously, having snuck into the bare antechamber while everyone was distracted with the kid’s story.

“Well, I do,” Karren countered, with zero conception of who he was talking to.

Fennec beamed.

“Do you like this Urro guy?” she asked.

“No,” Karren answered immediately. “He’s sent Eegang four messages and they’re all gross.”

Yep.

It was gonna be a late puberty for this one.

“What makes them gross?” Bo-Katan asked.

“The mush,” Karren said expertly. “Bojzka calls Goran ‘Nomri.’ That’s a bad word at home. No one says that word. Goran is ‘Goran.’ The only people who call her anything else are the elders.”

“And you and your siblings, no?” Bo-Katan asked.

Karran cocked his head at her.

“Yeah, and ‘buir’ I guess, if we aren’t in trouble,” he said.

Bless him.

“Are you in trouble a lot?” Bo-Katan asked.

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“I dunno. I got a temper or something.”

“Is Din in trouble?”

“With buir? No, not like me and Shimmol. He’s too old to be in that kind of trouble. His trouble’s like ‘help, I fell a hundred feet off a cliff’ kind of trouble. He gives Goran indigestion, but she can’t make him reflect on falling a million feet out of a ship—Eegang says that’s called ‘rehashing trauma.’”

The covert on Zeffo sounded like it was holding itself together through sheer force of will and that alone.

Where did Boba sign up? It sounded like a fantastic experiment to pass the time.

“Are you a foundling, Karren?” Boba asked.

The kid lit up.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been with Goran for five years now. Six in a few months. My dad’s a piece of shit. He killed my mom, and Goran got him arrested for that and for what he did to my auntie.”

Well, fuck. That explained a lot.

“And you like it there—on Zeffo?” Bo-Katan asked.

Karren shrugged.

“It’s cold and wet,” he said. “I liked Nevarro better. Din was home more on Nevarro.”

Awww.

“Aren’t you proud of Din for becoming Mand’alor?” Bo-Katan asked as gently as she could manage.

Karren’s frown eased up finally.

“No,” he said. “Din should just come home. He doesn’t need to be Mand’alor or married to some jedi. He should just come home. It’s stupid; his foundling should have stayed with us from the start. We always have room for more foundlings. I dunno why he had to leave with his foundling at all.”

Bo-Katan sat back and sighed.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “If it helps, I think he just wants to come home, too.”

“So let him,” Karren blurted out to her.

Tough tits, kid. That wasn’t how it worked.

“I think we should perhaps focus on one thing at a time,” Bo-Katan said. “What do you think, Fett?”

What did Boba think?

Boba thought that he had a great idea to distract this kid from missing his big brother.

---

Karren was perhaps a little too small still to reach the brakes in the crawler, but you know what? So was Fennec sometimes and she did just fine.

“Gas,” Boba said, pointing. “Neutral. Brake. Park.”

“Gas, neutral, brake, park,” Karren repeated to him with his hands on the wheel and his knobbly wrists peeking out from the gap between his gloves and his leather braces.

Bo-Katan had refused to be present or responsible for this. Fennec had told them to wait while she went and took a shot first. ‘For safety’ she said.

“What’s neutral for?”

“You’re about to tell me,” Boba said, adjusting the rear view mirrors down to kid-height.

The sound of Fennec throwing herself onto the back of the crawler rattled through to their compartment.

“That’s our signal,” Boba said. “You ready to jam?”

“Jam?” Karren asked him.

Hm.

Punch it?

“Punch what?”

The fuck kind of slang did they use at the covert?

“Rock?”

“OH. Yeah, I’m ready.”

There we go. Onward march then.

---

An hour later, Din sighed with Karren whining under his arm.

“There is a reason he’s not trained yet, Fett,” Din said as Karren started chomping on the bunched-up flightsuit in his elbow.

The Armorer pressed both palms into the forehead of her helmet.

The crawler had perhaps seen better days. But it had also seen worse days, and Fennec was still going through little loops of cackling at the memory of having to chase after its open tailgate. Boba didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. The kid had done amazingly well for his first time at the wheel.

“I’m leaving all of you,” Karren grated out, trying miserably to escape Din’s elbow-prison. “I want to be Mr. Fett’s foundling.”

Bless him.

“You don’t,” Din told him forcefully. “Fett can’t handle a foundling.”

Ay, Boba would drink to that. He was happy to be a foundling-sitter and borrower, though.

“Buir,” Karren pleaded.

“You make me tired, child,” the Armorer told him. “Say goodbye to vod.”

“NO.”

Din sighed. The Armorer sighed. Karren, in a beautiful 180, latched onto Din’s ribs again.

“Come hooooooome,” he pleaded with Din.

“I caaaaaaan’t,” Din drawled back at him in a delightfully uncharacteristic tone.

“These people don’t need you. We need you. Shimmol took your bed and if you don’t take it back, she’s gonna keep it.”

Din’s shoulders dropped.

“I told Shimmol that she could take my bunk, Karren,” he said. “I’m not using it—”

“BUT YOU COULD BE.”

Boba took it back. He could take on a foundling. Fuck it, why not? This one was great.

“Come here,” Din said, dragging the kid up to his toes. He knocked the front of his helmet against Karren’s forehead with enough force that the bump was noticeable. That made the kid shut up and stand up straight on his own volition again.

“Soon,” Din told him forcefully. “Behave for buir.”

“Promise,” Karren demanded.

“Ehn.”

“Din, promise.”

“I dunno, kid. I’ve got a husband and all these damn kids to worry about.”

“Bring them. All of them.”

“No room,” Din said without missing a beat. “You have no idea how much space the husband needs to thrive.”

“Well, if you don’t come, then Urro’s gonna try to move in,” Karren snapped.

Din actually paused at that. The Armorer shook her helmet.

“Territorialism becomes neither of you,” she said. “If Urro wishes to join our covert, then we will treat him as we treat any other who wishes to.”

Din’s helmet seemed to squint at her. Karren glared outright.

“I don’t like him,” he told Din.

“Concurred,” Din said.

“Ad’ika,” the Armorer scolded.

“I will not be shamed into liking him, either,” Din asserted.

“Din,” Karren whined.

“I’ll consider coming home if it means there will be no space for Bojzka,” Din said.

“Carry on with your work and give my best to the jedi and the child,” the Armorer said with an air of dismissal. “Come, Karren. Thank you three for looking after him. Apologies for the vehicle. Come.”

Boba missed that kid already.

--------

Bojzka, Boba had to say, really had no shame and he could almost appreciate that. Either that, or Din’s buir was a catch that the rest of them were failing to appreciate.

“How bad can it be?” the guy mused at Din’s stiff, furious hands mere days after the Armorer and Karren’s departure. “It’s a helmet, right? You can take it off with the people who matter, no?”

“We do not take it off,” Din said from between clenched teeth.

“Right, I got that. But there are exceptions for kids and spouses,” Bojzka said. “Or did I misread that part?”

Din was going to start shaking at any minute now. Bo-Katan assigned Boba the task of making sure he didn’t commit War-hero-homicide while she went off to find a calming device. It was only polite. It wasn’t Bojzka’s fault after all that he’d come in right after a tense meeting with a dissident group from Mandalore itself that made even Bo-Katan’s jaw jump.

“I think the rule is more important than the exceptions here,” Boba pointed out on Din’s behalf. “Joining the Children of the Watch isn’t something to take lightly.”

Din pointed at him wordlessly. Bojzka lazily followed the finger and then pointedly ignored Boba.

“What I’m hearing is that if we marry first, nothing changes,” he said.

Din’s index finger curled in with the rest of his knuckles until it was a fist.

“She is not looking to marry,” he said.

“What, so you speak for her now?”

“She is not looking to marry.”

“I can repeat things, too. Wanna see? You don’t speak for Nomri, Din.”

Boba was getting the feeling that Ms. Katzkai sort of did let Din speak for her in these types of situations. He was, after all, her oldest. And it sounded like he was the most loyal of her foundlings, too. If she shared anything personal with anyone besides her second in command, then it was going to be Din. That was just how these things worked.

“Did you call Eegang?” Din asked.

“I did,” Bojzka said. “He’s not especially helpful, I have to say. He keeps sending my missives back to me with grammar corrections.”

No. No. Keep it in, Boba. Keep it stoic.

“Eegang is the second CO at the covert,” Din said. “If you won’t take my word for it, then you’ll take his.”

Bojzka arched a fucked-up eyebrow.

“Eegang, the same guy who is allegedly secretly married to his partner? That Eegang?” he asked.

Din balked. Boba felt like electricity had just rocketed through him.

“Eegang is—” Din started.

“Nomri told me about him,” Bojzka said off-handedly. “She seems to think that he’s bitten off more than he can chew with taking on his last kid.”

“Eegang—”

“Something about baby being blind? Funny, did you not think that she trusted me enough to talk about her people?”

Any more of this and steam would start rising from the lip of Din’s helmet.

Thankfully, Bo-Katan returned with the jedi, AKA the calming device. Skywalker even came equipped with Grogu. They both appeared very confused and innocent, what with Skywalker drowning in his formal robes. They looked like they were going to absorb Grogu at any moment.

A+ distraction work, Kryze. Well done making yourself useful.

“Who’s Eegang?” Skywalker asked.

The line pulled taut across Din’s shoulders began to loosen.

“A comrade,” he said sharply in Bojzka’s direction.

“Is he nice?” Skywalker asked. Grogu chirped at him and resumed trying to dig into his multitude of collars.

“Very nice,” Din confirmed, staring deep into Bojzka’s eyes.

“He’s got foundlings, too?” Skywalker asked.

“Two,” Din confirmed. “Who he adores. Regardless of all challenges.”

Ah. It wasn’t just Eegang Din was protective of. It was the baby. Bojzka had really stuck his foot into that one.

“I’m sure the foundlings are fine,” Bojzka said. “It was just Nomri’s concern that—”

“Stop calling her that in my presence,” Din said. “In fact, let’s drop the whole thing now.”

--------

Boba wanted to meet secretly-married Eegang. He sounded like he had a rich interior life. Din gave him a strong look and said that if the Armorer had left the covert, Eegang would not. One of them had to be there at all times.

Bo-Katan asked what Eegang’s speciality was.

Surprise, surprise: it was diplomacy.

Kryze was now invested. She followed Din around on his heels and suggested that if the Armorer gave words to Eegang to deliver during a formal meeting with the Mand’alor, then Bojzka might finally get the picture that Katzkai wasn’t interested in him.

Din thought about that.

He asked if this was not just a ploy for Boba and Bo-Katan to rally his covert comrades against him.

And it honestly wasn’t until he phrased it like that.

-----------

Eegang was tall, sea-green, and in Bojzka’s face without so much as a by-your-leave.

“Three tests,” he threatened Bojzka with a baby on his hip. “One: stop sending transmissions. Two: get Elder Fayrz to approve your presence. Three: make even one of Goran’s foundlings like you. If you pass all three, your admission will be taken into consideration.”

The baby was very pink with curly hair so pale it was almost white. Its blue-gray eyes moved rapidly back and forth as it cuddled into its buir’s teal armor. Bojzka glanced from it to Eegang’s chipped helmet.

“Where did you find him?” he asked.

“Please give confirmation of your understanding,” Eegang said mechanically.

“He’s kinda cute.”

“Please give confirmation of your understanding.”

“Are you a droid or somethin’?”

“Please give—”

“Alright, alright. Fuck. This is confirmation of my understanding.”

“Excellent. This conversation is over,” Eegang said. “It is your responsibility to contact the elder and earn the approval.”

Bojzka jerked.

“Wait, what?” he said. “How am I supposed to do that if y’all won’t even let me through the door?”

Eegang’s helmet tipped so daintily to the side that Boba could have shed a tear.

“That sounds like a you-problem,” Eegang said.

-----------

Eegang thereafter blocked Bojzka out of his mind and heart. He introduced himself with a dipping motion to Kryze and Boba that probably would have been more dramatic if he’d opted to wear a cape, which he did not. He revealed himself to be exceedingly polite and very fond of Din, though—if the gentle armor tapping and the use of the word ‘little brother’ was anything to go by. Din was usually receptive to gestures like that, Boba had learned, but not this time.

No, no. Din cared not for his ‘big brother.’ He cared only for the attention of Eegang’s baby.

“His name is Mesa,” Eegang explained after Din had kidnapped said baby. He introduced Mesa to Grogu who was stationed nearby, stuffed in the sleepy jedi’s shirt this time. . Grogu waved from Skywalker’s chest, but Mesa didn’t register the motion.

“His grandmother was quite ill, and it was her dying wish to see the child placed into the care of someone trustworthy. I have to admit, though, I may have made the decision a little rashly,” Eegang hummed as he watched Grogu lean as far as he could out of Skywalker’s clothing to try to make contact with his fellow foundling.

“Is he your first?” Bo-Katan asked.

Eegang winced.

“No, uh. I’ve got another,” he said. “She’s a huge fan of certain someones.”

“Me,” Din said without hesitation.

“And Paz,” Eegang said. “Which is a deadly combination.”

“She will be a mighty warrior,” Din informed Mesa and Skywalker. Skywalker twitched awake and didn’t understand anything that was happening. He noticed the baby, cooed, and waved with his gloved hand.

“She’s declared this one goat her nemesis and I cannot—I cannot—get her to just leave it alone,” Eegang said.

“A goat clan in the making,” Din said with approval.

“I’m hearing unnecessary commentary,” Eegang said without looking at him. “Please rephrase or shut up.”

Din seemed to gloat at the scolding. Skywalker glanced between him and his tall, teal comrade. He made his move and carefully came in to extract baby Mesa from Din’s arms to add him to his ever-growing collection. Grogu cooed again, closer now. He offered Mesa a hand, and this time, Mesa perked up and tried to grab at it clumsily.

“You manage the covert in the Armorer’s absence?” Bo-Katan asked Eegang. “You must be very dedicated to the Children of the Watch.”

“Define ‘manage’ and then ‘dedicated,’” Eegang said. “I prefer ‘accidentally charged with responsibility one too many times’ and ‘in too deep to turn back now.’”

“He’s being humble,” Din said. “Eegang has brokered peace between our covert and locals on numerous occasions.”

Eegang’s shoulders started to raise.

“Stop telling people that, they’re going to expect things from me,” he said, then popped back up like flipped switch. “Oh, I totally forgot why I even came. Jedi?”

Skywalker looked up from the conference of baby talk happening in his arms all wide-eyed, as though he’d been caught in the act of stealing imperial property.

“We did not welcome you into our covert,” Eegang said, “You must allow us to present you with a gift of welcome and entry.”

Oho. Very formal. Boba folded his arms and watched Skywalker for his reaction.

“A what?” Skywalker asked.

-------

Bojzka was somewhat justifiably upset at the double standard going on here.

Skywalker was a jedi and yet welcomed into the covert with open arms and no admission requirements. He was, in fact, measured against his will for a set of armor. This was what Din’s buir had actually been after when she’d sent Eegang along to say hi.

Boba found that he enjoyed the reciprocation of ulterior motives that they were getting from Din’s covert. Kryze had never been happier. This was a game that she knew how to play.

“Wait no, hold up,” Bojzka interrupted. “I deserve a chance. Din, at least give me the name of one of your siblings so I can track them down with the elder.”

Din didn’t want to; there were foundlings happening and another meeting soon, but eventually even he had to give the guy something.

An honorable battle required at least two willing bodies.

-----------

Din and Karren’s remaining sibling at the covert’s name was Shimmol. According to Din, Bojzka had next to no chance of gaining her favor because she did not leave the forge and therefore Bojzka had no access to her. Eegang corrected Din and said that Shimmol did, in fact, leave the forge, but never on her own volition.

She was preferred the dark. She hated social interaction.

To circumvent that, the Armorer had refused to induct her into the trade until she proved herself able to coexist with others. But Shimmol was eighteen, that fun age where no incentive or punishment was effective and digging your heels in was far more preferable to doing a damn thing your elders mentioned.

She’s announced that very weekend that she was officially becoming a recluse. Her present aspiration in life was apparently now to become a forge spider.

Bojzka, along with everyone else, had no idea how to receive this information. Kyrze took it upon herself to pat Bojzka on the shoulder and tell him to start with the elder. He might actually have some luck that way.

-------

It took two weeks for Bojzka to re-emerge from whatever hellhole he’d had to walk a tightrope across to locate the covert’s elder Fayrz. He climbed in through Din’s personal quarters’ window and interrupted him and the Jedi in a moment of infrequent intimacy.

The sound of a body being throw over a bannister had a special kind of thud to it. Boba was up on out of his quarters in an instant.

Din flung Bojzka’s helmet after him. Skywalker had the grace to cover Djarin’s face with his shirt and walk him back into the room before anyone caught sight of it, telling Boba and Fennec, who had also emerged from her bed, prepared for drama, that all was fine. There was just a misunderstanding.

His bare torso was covered in scars. Boba found himself somehow surprised and impressed as the jedi unsuccessfully wrangled his furious husband back in the direction of bed.

He and Fennec peeked over the banister to see what had become of Bojzka. He was fine.

Fennec informed Boba that she was claiming part of his bed ‘in case anything else good happened’ since he was closer.

-----

In the morning, Din was in marginally better spirits. Skywalker was to be found at his side, walking backwards and tripping over his cloak every four paces. He truly knew how to hit all Din’s ‘endeared’ buttons. If not to the earnestness and the near-miss of a disaster on the stairs, it would have looked like manipulation.

Bojzka attempted to rectify the peace by breaking into the court through one of the windows high up on the wall outside the second floor’s conference room. This time, to ensure that he had Din’s full attention, he removed the jedi from the equation. Or he tried to anyways.

The jedi, in a split second, decided that, all joking aside, today, he would not be moved. His green saber managed to glow even in the sunlight pouring in to the hall.

“Do not touch,” he ordered, with both feet planted and Din and Grogu securely at his back.

Bojzka cocked his head at the saber pointed right at his nose.

“That’s a fun trick,” he said.

“Do not touch,” Skywalker repeated. “Me, him, or the child.”

“I’ll think about it,” Bojzka said. “Stand down before you regret it.”

“Luke,” Din said testily. “He’s not worth it.”

“Make me regret it,” Skywalker said to Bojzka.

Bojzka’s eyes widened slightly in interest. He used the back of his wrist to try to nudge the saber’s tip away and snapped his hand away from the burn.

“Do you expect me to be afraid of you, jedi?” he asked, trying to play it off.

Skywalker’s eyes reflected the light of his saber.

“Ask him what the glove’s for,” Fennec called from the far hall. Bojzka scoffed. Skywalker didn’t move.

“What happened to your hand?” Bojzka asked.

“My father cut it off,” Skywalker said. “But not to worry, I got a new one. Now step back. Sir.”

Bojzka didn’t move for a long time.

“Does it feel good to walk in the presence of these people?” he asked. “Is it a kink for you the way it was for your master?”

Boba had officially lost the plot. These were old politics now. Kryze would know what Bojzka was talking about, if only she deigned to come out from wherever she was hiding, which she wouldn’t. Of course.

“Does it offend you? My presence here?” Skywalker asked back without emotion.

“It doesn’t,” Bojzka said.

“I’m glad. That’s very convenient for me. I’d feel terrible if you bled out on these tiles,” Skywalker said. “So move.”

And goddamn. The mountain finally yielded to the sky.

-------

Skywalker spent the rest of the day on high alert, with one hand on the hilt of his saber and his full concentration tied up with making fierce eyes into the palace’s corners to keep Bojzka at bay. It was really something to see. Din looked about ready to lay his fingers on his heart and swoon, and that was more than fair. If Boba’s spouse threatened to kill a man for looking at him wrong, he’d be touched too.

Fennec told Boba that she’d protect him from a man the size of a bantha but no larger, and it just didn’t have the same kind of ring.

She apologized and he told her it was fine. It was just in the delivery--and also, he’d murder anyone so blinked at her wrong, too.

She was pleased. Boba was glad they were on the same page.

“Let’s go find Kryze to negotiate,” Fennec said, “I need to know why Old Faithful’s back.”

--------

Kryze’s commanding voice wrang out of Bojzka the real reason for his presence. The truth of the matter was that, War Hero aside, he was having a hell of a time getting the covert elder to grant him a second look.

Din told him that that was the point. Elder Fayrz was like that all day, every day and he’d change for no body, spiritual or physical. He bothered people when he wanted to bother them, and the rest of the time, he liked to pretend he was senile. He only really ever showed up if someone was buying a round or their life was in the balance.

Skywalker said that he sounded a lot like his late master.

Din agreed and said that Elder Fayrz had dedicated his life to two things: the covert children and fungi. Somehow, he made those two interests overlap. Din recalled being twelve and being taken out on a ‘mission’ by the old man who had informed him that he required his nose.

Elder Fayrz had no sense of smell. For a man with a fungi interest, he called this ‘very dangerous business indeed.’

Kryze demanded to know if all the weirdest Mandalorian elders still living had congregated at Din’s cohort which he quickly confirmed. Bojzka, however, demanded to know what would make this elder look him in the eye.

Din told him to go find a deathbed and lay on it.

He remembered belatedly to add ‘nearby Elder Fayrz’ to that statement.

----------

After about a month of this kind of back and forth, the Armorer decided that she’d had enough. She did not come to the Dune Sea. She sent a missive to Din informing him that he was coming home.

‘To talk,’ she said.

Boba vaguely remembered Karren saying something along the lines of ‘Din doesn’t get into trouble anymore,’ and was pleased to find that that was not the case. Din already knew what awaited him at his home covert and anyone with slightly more than a rock for a brain could see that it wasn’t going to be hugs and kisses.

Bojzka volunteered to accompany Din as a guard when the jedi made himself conveniently unavailable. Kryze and Boba flipped a coin while Din resisted stabbing him, and of course Boba won. Kryze flipped it again to be sure, and Boba told her sweetly that he’d send her a postcard.

“Have fun with the schmucks lounging around this place,” he gloated at Bo-Katan’s rolling shoulders.

She gave him two naughty fingers.

Whatever, girl. Sucks to suck. Bye, bye, now. Come on, Fennec. There’s adventure to be had.

---------

It was a ways to the new covert on Zeffo. Several hours, in fact, many of which were spent playing ‘I spy’ with Fennec while Bojzka gritted his teeth and asked them if they were always like this.

Fennec got Din to join in at that comment.

Eventually they ran out of white dwarfs and capes to identify and settled down into silence until the ship declared landing to be imminent.

Karren remembered Boba and the second he set foot inside the curiously constructed covert entrance. The kid came hurtling up to tackle him and wrap arms around his middle. It was endearing. Boba checked the doors to see if a guard would notice a kidnapping.

Fennec reminded him of child-based expenses. Her wisdom was invaluable as usual.

Karren scrambled away from Boba and, for a moment, made like he was going to attach himself to Din’s armor, but instead wriggled past Din to go tearing down the hallway. He skidded, crashed, and then clambered into a different room at the dead end of what appeared to be a row of barracks. Seconds later, Eegang exploded from one of the rooms adjacent wearing no armor but his helmet. He flung himself through the same doorway Karren had vanished through.

Din tilted his head.

“It’s fine,” a voice said behind them.

Their small party turned to see a woman wearing a cool purple helmet with only her flakvest on. Eegang’s pale baby was sat on her hip, pawing at her chest, trying to find purchase in the vest.

“Sotra,” Din greeted.

“Welcome back, brat-child,” Sotra said. “We missed you.”

This had to be Eegang’s secret-wife; unless she’d stolen that gurgling foundling in the night or something.

“Electrical?” Din asked, pointing at the far room.

“Loft,” Sotra said. “There’s hay, so of course all the kids have to be in it.”

“Just hay?” Din asked.

“And goats,” Sotra said.

Ah.

“We raise goats now?” Din asked.

“Oh, no, no,” Sotra said, sashaying past him towards the room her husband had abandoned, “It’s either coexistence or war, I’m afraid. The forge is past the hangar, keep going through the kitchens. Voxie knows you’re here—he’s awake, by the way. Welcome home, Din.”

“Thanks,” Din said. “This is my advisor, Boba Fett and our friend Fennec.”

Sotra splayed her whole, tall body into the doorway of her and Eegang’s barracks just as a fearsome battle cry sounded out on the other side.

“Hi,” she said.

“RELEASE ME,” a child in front of her about hip-height with serious bedhead shrieked in Mando’a.

Fennec’s eyebrows launched up to her forehead. Boba felt like he needed to record this so that Kryze understood what she was missing.

“Vod Din is home,” Sotra told the child.

“DIN.”

“Shhhh.”

“RELEASE M—mmf.”

“Shhhhh. It’s quiet time,” Sotra said with her free hand over the child’s mouth. “We’re being quiet.”

Din chuckled.

“Hey, Samo,” he said.

Samo let loose an ear-piercing scream behind her buir’s hand and ducked under Sotra’s legs. She ran at Din like there was a bomb behind her. Din caught her and swung her up to perch on his arm and she kicked relentless at his tassets in excitement.

“Shhh,” Din said. “People are sleeping—”

“YOU’RE THE MAND’ALOR. YOU’RE THE MAND’ALOR. YOU’RE THE—”

Doors started opening all down the line of barracks. A few curious, hazy, and lopsided helmets poked out from some of them, and from others, calls of ‘EYYYYYYY’ and chats ‘ALL HAIL THE MAND’ALOR’ started up, to Din’s immediate mortification.

This, Boba was delighted to realize, was not a cry of honor.

These half-asleep fuckers had been waiting months to embarrass Din. And he’d known that this would happen.

“Be quiet,” Din snapped all around him. “The elders are sleeping, you’re going to—”

“Well, well, well, look who’s finally home,” a taunting voice rang out on top of the rush. “If it isn’t the Mand’alor himself.”

“Paz,” Din sighed. “Not now.”

“When could there possibly be a better time, your liege?” a huge Mandalorian wearing full blue armor despite the early hour drawled from the doorway he’d attempted to casually lean in. Samo’s braids flew as her round cheeks snapped his way.

“Paz, don’t be mean,” she told him from atop Din’s arm. “Or it’ll be to the goats with ya.”

“Fuck me, the goats, what ever will I do?” Paz scoffed.

“BUIR, PAZ SAID A BAD WORD.”

“I heard him,” Sotra said scathingly, right at Paz’s visor.

“To the goats,” Paz’s neighbor hissed at him.

The hissing was taken up just as quickly as the earlier ‘all hails’ had been. Paz told everyone to shut up and mind their own asses. He was publicly booed until Eegang emerged from the loft room with Karren stuffed under an arm and demanded to know why people were congregating in the halls. He reminded everyone that that shit was a fire hazard, and in doing so, his tone changed completely from easy-going to Commanding Officer and the effect was immediate.

People scurried back into their rooms like frightened mice until there wasn’t a single open door left in the whole line.

Eegang huffed and traded Karren to Din for his daughter. Samo happily climbed onto his shoulders and held onto his chin. Karren grinned mischievously up at her, winked, and then thumbed back to the goat loft.

“Not the welcome you deserved, but the one you got. I’m afraid nothing has changed here,” Eegang told Din compassionately, wrapping his fingers around Samo’s ankles. “I see you brought friends.”

“And foe,” Din said, gesturing at Bojzka who beamed.

Eegang’s visor contained a grimace that would otherwise have wracked his whole body.

“You got in,” he deadpanned.

“Sure did,” Bojzka said. “Lovely place you have here.”

And honestly? Yeah. It sort of was. Maybe a little ramshackle, what with all the scaffolding and haphazard support beams thrown into the walls to keep the wet earth above ground from crushing everyone below it, but for all the unsteadiness, it was oozing with comradery. Family.

Behind each of those doors was a little unit like Eegang and Sotra’s or perhaps a tired body, barely extracted from its boots, taking comfort in this honeycomb of tunnels and rooms.

Boba couldn’t help but wonder how he and Dad would have done in a place like this.

“We try,” Eegang said flatly. “I’ll let the Armorer deal with you herself—if she’s awake, I mean. Otherwise, you’re condemned to Shimmol. I’m going back to sleep. Vok is waiting for you, keep going straight through the kitchens, Din.”

“Thank you,” Din said. “Sleep well, Vod.”

“Yeah, yeah. Come on, Monster. No goats for now.”

Samo waved at Boba and Fennec with a smile as bright as the sun. She ducked expertly as Eegang passed through the doorway to their quarters. He closed the door behind them.

------

“You don’t see families like that much anymore,” Bojzka hummed as Din led their troop down the hallways, through a series of ladders into a kitchen and then from there into a surprisingly neat, up-to-date hangar with concrete floorings. Six crafts were parked inside, tucked into the tight space like fish in a barrel.

“We have a few,” Din said. “I don’t know how many people are living here now, though.”

Given the size of the place? Maybe fifty or so, if Boba had to take a guess. There had been several sets of boots lining the wall outside the barrack doors.

Din picked his way through the crafts to two tarps covered in piles of spare, rusting, and grease-covered parts. At the end of the aisle between the tarps was a rectangle bordered by wooden benches and to the left of that was a little box that a mechanic presumably operated from. The box, however, had no windows. Its door was slightly ajar.

Din knocked and a snort and a slurp answered him.

“Jus’ a mo,” a thick voice said inside.

Fennec looked at Boba with intrigue.

“Tool gnome,” she said.

No, friend. Just a grease-monkey.

“Tool gnome,” Fennec insisted.

The door opened and a man at least six feet, two inches peered out of it.

“Tool giant,” Fennec amended in a whisper.

“Is that you, Din?” the mechanic asked. His helmet was rusty red and gray. Its visor had a yellow tint to it.

“It is,” Din said. “It’s been a while, Vok. These are my—”

“Forget them. Goran told me what you did to Razor.”

Din cringed.

“I—”

“AH. No. I don’t wanna hear it,” Vok said. “I just—I’m glad you’re safe, but you ain’t touching any more of my children, you hear me, boy?”

Din sunk into his shoulders in shame.

“I hear you,” he said.

“You’re damn right you do,” Vok said. “Man, I had a whole speech written out and shit, and here you are, early as the fuckin’ dawn. Did you miss Paz?”

“We did not,” Din said.

“I tried to have him do an inventory, I did,” Vok said sympathetically. “But he wasn’t havin’ it. Took an IOU and everything.”

Din sighed.

“Thanks for trying,” he said. “Is the forge...?”

“That way,” Vok said, gesturing to the far end of the hangar, where a series of scaffolding led up to a dark hole in the wall. “Mind your step. Stairs are next on my list. Who’re your friends?”

Din introduced them. Vok considered Fennec and after a moment of thought, saluted her. She tipped her jaw to the side and gave him a once-over.

“Din’s got my number if you’re not busy,” Vok said.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” Fennec said.

“I hope you do, my darlin’. You? Boj-whatever? I heard about you. You can go fuck yourself.”

“Thanks, Vok, we’re going now,” Din intervened.

----------

Fennec said nothing on the way up the scaffolding. She didn’t need to. Boba applauded her.

---------

The forge was the least finished part of the covert, and Boba could respect the Armorer’s dedication to looking after the flock before her own needs. Not that the forge wasn’t a comfortable place. Upon entry, Bojzka whistled at all the equipment inside. There were steel beams crossing in hatches along the ceiling. It appeared as though someone was working on a ventilation mechanism up there. Ropes and pipes hung down from the beams as though a pulley system had been recently removed.

The forge itself was a huge circular structure with a high wall around its exterior. It was built of a slick-looking black material. There were three water troughs set up in a line behind it and two rudimentary wood blocks with anvils set on them. Benches littered with iron tools sat next to the anvils.

Din appeared very at home in this place, despite not having even been in it. He wove around the accoutrements of the room towards a wooden door that had been placed on hinges on the far side like an afterthought.

He knocked.

“We don’ want any,” a sleepy woman’s voice drawled.

Boba jumped as a something brushed his elbow and discovered that Karren had followed them all the way down to the forge. His soft boots had hidden his footsteps, but, like Din, he was now in a place that he knew like the back of his hand. Din grabbed the scruff of his neck as he went for the door with both hands.

“You’re supposed to be in the nursery,” Din told him. “Shoo.”

“Shimmol, Din’s home,” Karren said through the door. “Goran, Din’s home.”

Very cute. Karren wanted to be the one to shared the news. Din pulled him back as shuffling started up on the other side of the wooden door.

It opened to reveal a fluorescent pink helmet with floral patterns painted down the edges in white.

“Din?” the young woman, who could only be Shimmol, asked.

Din’s brain stuttered.

“Uh?” he said.

Shimmol’s flightsuit was once white, but it was burned and smudged to gray all over. Her heavy gloves were half-burnt on both hands, too. She surged forward into Din’s chestplate. Din hugged her back awkwardly.

“Hello, sister,” he said. “This is, uh.”

“Do you like it?” Shimmol asked, pulling away from him to touch the edges of her helmet. “I thought it was cute. Wait til you see the pauldrons. They match.”

“They’re hideous,” Karren said.

“Did anyone ask you?” Shimmol flung at him. “No, I didn’t think so. Get gone, womp-rat.”

Wow. No wonder Karren was desperate for Din’s attention.

“I’m not a womp-rat,” Karren said. “I’m a Tooka. Goran said so.”

“You know, what you actually are is a ‘nuisance,’ so it doesn’t matter what—”

“Children.”

And lo and behold. The lady herself. Gold helmet and everything.

“Din,” the Armorer said, placing a hand on Shimmol’s side to move her. “Welcome home.”

Din accepted the helmet touch with grace.

“Bojzka,” the Armorer said next. “I didn’t expect to see you in my home so soon, or at all.”

Bojzka beamed.

“You’ve grown a beard,” the Armorer noted. “It does not become you.”

Boba coughed into his elbow to hide the bark of laughter screaming to escape his throat. Fennec thumped at his back.

“Let’s move somewhere with more light,” the Armorer said. “Karren, Shimmol. You’re dismissed for the next hour. Go eat breakfast.”

“But—” Shimmol started.

“Up, up, up,” Karren chanted, getting behind her and shoving hands into the small of her back. “It’s people-time.”

“Leave it. I hate people-time,” Shimmol said. “I thrive on darkness. It sustains me better than food.”

Din looked desperately into the Armorer’s helmet. The Armorer ignored him and told Shimmol that she knew this to false and to stop whining. Upstairs, now.

The kids relented and left the forge. Din pointed after them.

“I know,” the Armorer said. “Let her work through it.”

Din pointed even more insistently.

“No, no. It’s true,” Bojzka said. “Mine went through the same thing.”

--------

The Armorer sat them all down at a ‘u’ shape of benches on the far side of the forge. She turned on some overhead lights. They lit up the forge and threw its equipment’s shadows harshly against the floor.

“Thank you for coming,” she said lightly. “It takes a long time to get to Zeffo, even in the Outer Rim.”

“It suits you,” Bojzka flirted.

“It does not,” the Armorer countered unrepentantly. “And your flattery remains aggravating.”

Bojzka didn’t seem to process the meaning behind those words, too busy he was with basking in the Armorer’s presence. She ignored him to turn to Din.

“Eegang tells me that you have been aggressive towards Bojzka, ad’ika, is this true?”

Din hunkered down into his shoulders. He didn’t want to answer. The Armorer didn’t make him.

“This is unnecessary,” she said. “Bojzka does not bother me.”

Bojzka rounded a gloating grin at Din.

“He is delusional, but I’m afraid that head trauma does this over time,” the Armorer said lightly. “There is no need to defend my honor—I’ve already had this conversation with Eegang, so know that it is not only you who I’ve spoken to about this. And Bojzka.”

“Yes, dear?” Bojzka hummed.

“I would appreciate it if you ceased in antagonizing my foundling and second.”

“I’m not trying to, Nomri.”

“I know,” the Armorer said. “And that is where I believe this tension arises from. Din, you and your advisor may leave. I’ll handle this. In future, know that it is not your place to speak on these matters in my stead, yes?”

“Yes, Goran,” Din mumbled.

The Armorer waited.

“Buir,” Din corrected.

“Thank you. The last thing I need is the Mand’alor becoming invested in old-standing relationships. You may go.”

Din stood and Boba and Fennec stood with him.

“He is not Naseem,” Din said right at the doorway.

The Armorer’s helmet turned slowly his way.

“No one will ever be Naseem,” she said. “It’s okay. Go.”

-----------

Boba need the full story on this Naseem guy approximately yesterday, but all he had at his disposal in the kitchens where he, Din, and Fennec had been banished was a collection of foundlings all staring up at their party looking guilty as hell.

In the midst of their group was a ten-year-old holding a glass jug absolutely brimming with frogs.

Boba had never seen this many foundlings together at once before, and he had to say: these traditionalists knew exactly what they were doing. There was nothing quite like a whole mass of youths to shift the mood.

The kids made a break for it.

Fennec was the fastest of all of them, but even she was not as fast as the bodies that popped their heads out of the rattling back room and launched themselves without warning over the few rows of tables set out in the main space.

Din’s covert collectively looked after the little ones, he explained when one of these bodies returned with the wrist of a shrieking Twi’lek child in their grip. The shrieking cut off when the nurse dropped down into a crouch and flattened both of the child’s hands against their helmet so that they left splotchy prints behind.

Two of the folks who filed back into the room covered in mud did not wear helmets. Din didn’t recognize them until they spoke and said their names. They’d removed their helmets back on Nevarro, apparently, and they had not to put them back on. Now, they wore veils and headscarves—neither of them comfortable with their whole heads and faces on display.

One of these was a woman named Madda. She saw Din’s helmet and froze by one of the long tables.

“Din, I’m so glad you returned,” she said with hitching breath. And then she took her newly-acquired jug of frogs and went tearing back down the hallway towards the covert’s main entrance. Din watched after her, confused.

“Is the transition difficult?” he asked one of the other Mandalorians next to him.

Their helmet showed zero emotion, and yet Boba gleaned from it everything he needed to know. He put a palm on his forehead.

“Djarin, come here,” he said.

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

Din chased after Madda to apologize for fucking up what was probably a years-long infatuation at this point. Fennec watched after him with a sly grin. But the Mandalorian with the flat helmet turned to Boba with far more open shoulders.

“You got through to him like that,” she said, snapping her fingers.

“It’s his secret talent,” Fennec told her.

“What was your name?” the Mandalorian asked.

“Boba Fett,” Boba said. “And yours?”

“Jhuvac.”

“Nice to meet you,” Boba said politely.

“Aren’t you the clone-guy?”

Welp.

“I prefer ‘Fett,’” Boba said.

“Nah, I feel that,” Jhuvac said, tossing her scarf over her shoulder. “Paz calls you the ‘clone-guy’ is all. That shit’s wild, by the way. But you can’t help your dad’s decision now can you?”

What was this? Understanding? From a traditionalist? Kryze would lose her shit.

“I can’t, although everything after that was totally me,” Boba said.

Jhuvac glanced back at him.

“Including the Solo stuff?” she asked.

Boba lifted a brow.

“Is there something you would like to know?” he asked.

“No,” Jhuvac said. “I know everything I need to. But you know what’ll make Vok’s life miserable?”

---------

The mechanic was a huge fan of Han Solo, and he had a list of reasons why Boba should cease hunting the man about as long as one of his lanky arms. He listed them out one by one in his hangar full of metal scrap. Jhuvac was very correct when she said that the mere mention of Solo meeting his maker would cause Vok immense misery. Boba could see how it could be entertaining.

Fennec made it even more entertaining by poking holes in each of Vok’s carefully laid out arguments.

He kept asking her why she was hurting him like this. Was this a domination kink?

Fennec asked him if he wanted it to be.

Vok walked it all back and told her to do her worst.

Jhuvac decided that she suddenly had other things to do and invited Boba to accompany her on these things. Boba assented and left Fennec to her business.

----------

In the end, Boba found himself outside in a group huddle with a handful of covert people, two with no helmets, watching the feud between the foundlings and the local wildlife. The covert, he learned, broadly did not like Zeffo. They hated how wet it was. They hated how cold it was. 90% of them had grown up in desert climates, the remaining 10% in ice climates.

Zeffo, as far as they were concerned, was a backwater hellhole that they’d had little choice in selecting.

“It was this or breaking up and forming two coverts,” Sotra explained, removing Mesa’s captured snail from his face area for the third time. She gave the snail to the guy next to her who got up and took it down to the edge of the nearby river. He stooped to set it in the grass, then froze in shock when a fish’s wide mouth erupted from the water and encapsulated his whole glove.

It left the glove wet and empty.

“But you didn’t want to do that?” Boba asked.

“No, if we separated, it would be Eegang at the head of the new covert,” Sotra said. “And that’s just not in the cards for us right now.”

Gotcha.

“The children didn’t want to be separated either,” one of the Mandalorians with no helmet said. “Goran gave them the option, but things were frantic, you know. They cling to each other when they’re young like this.”

More than understandably, in Boba’s humble and correct opinion.

“What do you all think of Bojzka?” Boba asked them.

“Who?”

“The bull with no helmet? Beard?” someone said.

“The one trying to court the Armorer?” Sotra asked.

Everyone clambered back onto the same page in the face of this descriptor.

“He’s supposed to be some kind of hero,” Jhuvac said. “But I dunno, man. He seems a little, uh.”

“Goran’s too good for him,” Sotra interjected simply. “Imagine stooping so low after a life of respect and service.”

“He’s not ugly,” the Mandalorian who’d lost the snail pointed out. “I’d bang him.”

“You’re not a good bar, Ban.”

“I could be.”

“You’re the lowest bar, Ban.”

“Can’t be disappointed if your expectations on the floor.”

“Go bang him for Goran then,” Jhuvac said. “I can’t tell if she thinks he’s kinda cute or if she wants to stab him in the heart.”

“For the good of the covert, I will endure this hardship,” Ban said.

He was unceremoniously yanked back down when he started to stand.

“Din mentioned some guy named ‘Naseem?’” Boba asked.

The name alone sent the group into titters.

“Naseem was so nice.”

“Naseem was great, you have no idea. So respectful.”

“He wanted to take Din on so bad, it was almost heartbreaking. He and Goran were perfect for each other. He was so happy around her; I don’t think he ever talked in front of anyone else.”

“God, when he died, I cried so hard. I cried for days.”

“Same.”

“Kind of a tough reputation to beat, then?” Boba asked.

“Oh definitely,” Jhuvac said. “I mean, there was Hajka after him, but she was just so explosive. Like, she made Goran laugh a lot, I remember that, but she was kinda awkward, too. There was a battle on her home planet and she left everyone here to defend what was left of her people.”

“Goran collects the awkward ones, they’re her favorite,” Sotra said.

“You can’t judge her, you collect Eegangs,” Ban pointed out.

“There is only one Eegang.”

“Girl, we know.”

There was a pause while Sotra handed off her child so that she could beat the shit out of Ban on the lumpy grass. Jhuvac handed Mesa over Boba’s lap to the quiet person at his right. They took the baby without question and laid him on their chest.

“Where did you grow up, Boba?” Jhuvac asked. “Sorry, Fett. Do you like Fett?”

Boba was taken aback. It had been ages since someone had called him by his first name—and a Mandalorian no less.

“Boba is fine. I grew up on Kamino,” he said.

“With a covert?”

No, no covert. No anyone, really. Boba was what people in white coats tended to call ‘under-socialized.’

“That’s sad,” Jhuvac said. “It must have been lonely.”

It was, actually. Especially after Dad had died.

“That’s so sad, I’m gonna cry,” Ban said. “Join our covert.”

All helmets and eyes rounded on Boba and he felt like his collar was suddenly digging into his neck. He shook his head.

“I’m not really a Mandalorian,” he said. “It’s not right—”

“Bullshit.”

“Fuckin’ hell, Jhuvac, let ‘im talk.”

“No, that’s bullshit. Listen, Din has ‘don’t trust people’ syndrome. If he trusts you enough to bring you with him here, then you’re Mandalorian enough for us,” Jhuvac said. “And anyways, being a Mandalorian is about what you do, not who you are. It doesn’t matter if you’re clone-guy so long as you follow the Creed in a more or less northernly direction.”

Boba stared at her and realized that everyone was staring at him again. He cleared his throat but found that he didn’t have any words trapped back there like he’d thought.

“Or easternly,” Ban offered to break the awkwardness.

There were still no words on Boba’s tongue. He struggled to say at least something.

“I—th—that’s kind of you,” he eventually managed. “I don’t think I could cut it here, but that’s really kind of you.”

The Mandalorians exchanged looks and shrugs.

“Know that the offer stands if you feel any pull towards it later,” Sotra said. “We have a number of reformed who converted and who move in and out of our covert. Not recently, but when we were children, there were more. Goran, too, was once a reformed Mandalorian.”

“My buir, too,” Jhuvac added.

“My ba-buir was reformed,” Ban said. “But she might have caused a public riot. Or two. Or three.”

“Speaking of which,” Sotra said. “Elder Fayrz has emerged from his cave.”

“I’ll get him,” Jhuvac sighed.

Boba frowned and looked from them out to the hill the foundlings had selected to gossip on. A Mandalorian in black and white with a green cape was, indeed, now kneeling among them. Every face was turned towards him in wonder.

“I’ve heard of this guy. He looks fun,” he noted.

At least one hand from every body came up to clutch at their face.

“That’s exactly the problem,” Ban said.

------

Din rejoined Boba in the midst of Elder Fayrz’s attempt to recruit him into the covert. He somehow knew Dad. That in itself was a little disarming. At first, Boba hadn’t believe that the elder was speaking the truth, but then he started up with alarmingly specific training corp numbers and mentioned off-handedly that he used to work in the corps, training kids from six to fourteen.

It made sense now why, in old age, he was considered the most dangerous person in the covert to have around the foundlings.

Grandpa was a serial spoil-er and mischief-instigator. The children saw in him everything they wanted out of life and were loathe to be separated from their most favorite old man.

Din got between him and Boba and informed the Elder that he’d just gotten married.

The Elder’s attentions went rocketing in the opposite direction. He wanted pictures, he wanted to know all about the reception, he wanted to know why Din hadn’t brought his partner home with him, what color their armor was, where they were presently based—the whole barrel of spotchka.

Boba appreciated the save.

He also appreciated the moment when the Elder fully realized that Din had, in fact, married a real jedi.

“YOU STUPID BOY.”

There it was.

The children bustled and whispered.

“This is what happens when we do not teach them to read—where is your buir? I told her, I told her that you needed more lessons. Always with the dogs, I knew it would have some effect—”

Din couldn’t even argue. He and Kryze had been over the very same deficit about sixty times. If they were lucky, Bo-Katan gave him a day or two off in between scoldings.

While the old man was outraged, Din signaled to Boba that they would be leaving soon.

--------

Bojzka joined Boba, Din, and Fennec at the ramp of their ship about ten minutes late. The Armorer personally showed him out of the covert and told him to return only if the galaxy began to collapse in on itself. She was at least cordial about it, which, in hindsight, was probably why Bojzka was having a hard time reading the glaring ‘please desist’ sign flickering over her head.

“Be safe,” she told Din while Karren made sad sounds behind her.

“Will do,” Din said. “Next time, I’ll see if Luke will come.”

“We would like to have him,” the Armorer said.

She dipped her helmet to Boba and Fennec and they returned the gesture.

“I hope you were well-received by the others,” she said. “Bojzka, good bye.”

“Talk to you later,” Bojzka hummed.

“We shall not,” the Armorer said.

---------

Back in the Dune Sea, Kryze was waiting in one of the conference rooms. Din avoided her and all her probing questions. Boba did not. He was in a sharing sort of mood and Fennec had a ‘thanks for the lay’ message to compose to Mr. Vok.

Kryze crossed her legs and gestured for him to join her at the table.

He did and crossed his legs right back.

“So?” she asked.

“Shocking peaceful,” Boba said. “Violent mostly towards their own members. Tried to recruit me at least three times.”

Kryze’s eyebrows did a little dance.

“Surprising,” she said.

“Not very,” Boba corrected. “Din is one of the more reserved members. He resembles his buir more than I expected.”

“And Bojzka?” Kryze asked.

“Soundly rejected, but somehow optimistic about it,” Boba said. “The good news is that Din’s been forbidden from trying to kill him.”

“That is good news,” Kryze agreed.

There was a long pause.

“Are you thinking about it? Joining, I mean?” Kryze asked.

“No,” Boba said, “But it is nice to occasionally be around Mandalorians who don’t have sticks up their asses.”

“Unicorns,” Kryze said.

“A whole covert of them,” Boba told her with a smirk. “Maybe it’s not them. Maybe it’s you all.”

“I beg to differ,” Kryze said. “If the issue is resolved, then I suppose we’ll have to move back on to official business.”

That was no fun.

“Why is Fennec so smug?”

Oh, that was more fun. Sit back down, Lady. This is going to be a bawdy one.

#the mandalorian #the armorer #din djarin #boba fett #dinluke #ficlet #don't mind me I just need answers #and in their absence I make them myself

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skiesofthesketchy · 4 years

Text

Midsummers

Pairing: JJ Maybank x kook!reader

Summary: You drag a poor, unsuspecting stranger to be apart of your little scheme, but JJ doesn’t mind all that much.

Note: Yoooooo how are you guys? This fic is dedicated to my bff @rafej-cambanks bc it is her birthday today!! Go send her some love! I figured this might be a nice lil surprise bc it is 1 of the maybe 2 unpublished fics that you haven’t read yet lol. Anyway, I love you SO MUCH and hope you like this :)

Still working on blurbs for my 1k celebration! Sit tight, they will be coming soon :)

Warnings: language, hella fluff, uhhhh yea Word Count: 4k

gif by @toesure

***

Standing in front of the full-length mirror and gazing at your reflection, you couldn’t keep a straight face. The pretty emerald fabric of your dress adorned your figure perfectly, considering the thousands of dollars your mother spent on it plus having it tailored to fit you so. The hem fell to your ankles, showing off your expensive six inch heels and perfectly painted toenails. Your jewelry consisted of a simple diamond necklace and matching earrings, the sparkle adding to your already glowing complexion. You assumed your makeup would look cakey, but it actually looked quite flawless. That’s what you get when your mother hires a professional to do your makeup and hair for the most prestigious Kook party of the year.

Midsummers. Tonight was the night every Kook family planned for months beforehand, and then talked about the months following after. The party where rich socialites gather to brag about their wealth and successes over lobster and expensive champagne, playing fake nice to uphold their own powerful and pleasant reputations. You hated Midsummers with every fiber of your being, but alas, it was the one event you couldn’t get out of, and you had to attend.

You bubbled with laughter as you gazed at your appearance, hardly looking like yourself at all. A silly flower crown in your hair and an elegant dress that could probably pay for a trip to Europe. “So this is the daughter my parents have always wanted,” you sighed, coming out of your laughing fit.

Your parents never really understood you. All they ever wanted was for you to be their perfect princess, hanging out with other Kooks, going shopping, finding a suitable boyfriend from a wealthy family, you know, the whole shabang. And of course, keeping your grades up at the academy so that you can one day work for your father’s multi-million dollar company. It was what all Kooks expect from their kids, but you weren’t about that lifestyle.

Sure, you were grateful for your comfy upbringing, but you couldn’t care less about any of that stuff. You just wanted to have fun, travel the world, figure out who you are. You’d jump off a cliff before you had to be tied down to this boring, money-obsessed world that your parents live in.

With a quick wink to your alter-ego in the mirror, you sauntered out of the large bathroom, your heels clacking on the white marble floors. You made your way to the extravagant lobby area of the Island Club, staying close to the wall in order to not be noticed. Your parents were thankfully already at the party outside, but there was still someone you were trying to avoid: the pathetic boy your parents had set you up with.

He really wasn’t that bad, just boring like every other Kook boy your age. Only caring about parties, drugs, and tormenting the Pogues on the island. According to your parents though, he was a “suitable young man” because his parents were wealthy and respected on Figure Eight.

You spotted your date, Topper Thornton, leisurely scrolling on his phone, his other hand in his pocket. He was waiting for you so that you two could walk down the glorious staircase into the party together. It was tradition for ladies to be escorted down the steps, which is exactly why your mother took finding an escort for you into her own hands. The stupid tradition made you gag. You didn’t need a pretty boy to escort you into a lame-ass party, and that’s why you were hiding from him.

With Topper’s gaze fixed on his phone, you took this opportunity to slip through the large room and onto the balcony, the party happening just down the stairs. With a sigh, you started your descent down the staircase, taking in the scene in front of you. There were pretty lights hung up around the huge tent covering the dining area. People were dressed to the nines, champagne flutes in hand as they giggled and chatted to one another. The live band played classy music while some couples danced, and staff members ran around serving drinks to the attendees.

Casually walking down the last few steps, that’s when you noticed your parents watching you, and you grinned brightly at them. You knew ditching your date for the grand entrance would piss them off, which is mostly why you did it, and it was confirmed by the sour expressions on their faces.

“Mom. Dad. You guys look great!” you smiled. Your mother only scowled in response.

“Y/N! What on earth are you doing? Where’s the Thornton boy?” She spoke through her perfect teeth clenched in a fake smile, trying not to draw attention from others.

You shrugged. “I dunno. Great party though,” you said nonchalantly as your eyes wandered, obviously not bothered by the disappointing looks your parents were giving you.

“You know your mother wanted you to walk in on a man’s arm,” your dad said. He was trying to console your mom by rubbing her back soothingly. She was not taking this well, her chest rising and falling rapidly in anger. She wanted to yell at you, but wouldn’t dare to make a scene with all of these people around.

You rolled your eyes. “Why do I have to be escorted by some boy? That tradition is dumb, and sexist, quite frankly.”

“Y/N, you’re embarrassing us!” your mom whisper-yelled. Her eyes were wide and her lips twisted in displeasure. She’s more pissed than you thought she’d be, and you smiled. “You couldn’t have done this one thing for us? Why can’t you go one night without embarrassing your family?”

“You’re being dramatic,” you sighed. You loved pushing their buttons. They have to figure out you don’t want to live in this Kook bubble for the rest of your life sooner or later. It sucks that they aren’t accepting of who you are and only want you to be their little Kook Princess, but that has never kept you down for long.

“Don’t talk to your mother that way,” your dad warned in a low voice. You scoffed.

“Tell me why you ditched your date,” your mom whispered, the anger still apparent even with how quietly she spoke.

“I ditched him because I already have a boyfriend, Mom.” You didn’t really have a boyfriend, but the lie rolled off your tongue easily. Lying to your parents was something you did quite often, and not just to get away with the stupid shit you do sometimes. It was fun to mess with them. They get so upset over silly things, especially your mom.

A smirk found its way to your mother's face, and you knew she didn’t buy it. “Oh yeah? Then where is he?” You weren’t going to give her the satisfaction of catching you in your lie, especially if it meant she’d make you walk back up those damn steps just to retrieve Topper and do the whole entrance all over again.

You were already disinterested in this conversation, but you couldn’t just walk away now. Your eyes wandered the party briefly, and that’s when you spotted a waiter heading in your direction. He didn’t seem too busy at the moment, no drinks or plates of food in hand, so the gears in your head started turning. Before you could even second guess your plan, you were stopping the boy’s strides by grabbing his hand and dragging him to the spot next to you in front of your parents.

“Right here,” you said. “Mom. Dad. Meet my boyfriend.” An innocent smile graced your lips as you stared at your parents, awaiting their reactions. You were happy to see surprise and displeasure taking over their features, and the blonde boy next to you looked just the same. You ignored him though and the way he turned to you with confusion dancing in his eyes. You didn’t even care if the stranger went along with it. Even if he walked off and this all blew up in your face, the shock on your mom’s face right now has already made it worth it. You found it all fucking hilarious.

Registering the silence and how nobody seemed to know what to do, you turned your smiling face towards the boy, squeezing his hand in yours and trying not to laugh at this whole situation. You finally noticed his beautiful blue eyes and the way they seemed to ask you what the hell is going on. You shot him a wink, and after quickly scanning your face, something in him seemed to change.

“Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N. It’s so great to finally meet you.” The boy had turned his attention back to your parents, and reached to shake your father’s hand. You couldn’t help the happiness that swelled up inside of you. He’s actually going along with your idiotic plan to piss your parents off even more.

Your other hand came up to rest on the boy’s bicep as you watched him shake your dad’s hand. Your dad couldn’t form words as he looked at the waiter you clung to. Your mom had plastered on one of her brilliant fake smiles after a few seconds, and nodded her head in acknowledgement.

This was almost too good to be true. You didn’t know the boy standing next to you, but considering he was part of the staff, he had to be a Pogue. Your parents never allowed you to hang out with Pogues before, so you could only imagine their fury after learning you were dating one. You only caught a quick glance at the blonde, but you noticed the bruises on his face and the cut on his lip. You didn’t know his story, but you knew your parents only saw him as a trouble-making Pogue, and his beat up face only made it better. Not to mention you were in the middle of the biggest party of the year. Your parents wouldn’t dare do anything to make a scene, not here. Sure, you’d be getting an earful at home later, but you were already basking in the pleasure of seeing them so utterly angry and not being able to show it.

“And what’s your name, young man?” your dad asked.

“JJ Maybank, sir.” You turned your gaze to the boy again, and he smiled charmingly at your parents. “I’ve heard lots about you both, from your lovely daughter here.” He suddenly turned to face you again, the same cute smile on his lips, and released your hand to instead wrap his arm around your waist. Fuck, he’s doing a great job at playing along even though you dragged him into this mess that he had no business being in. You were loving every second of this.

The way your mom was struggling to keep her calm composure had laughter bubbling in your chest, but you kept your lips shut tight to hold it in. “JJ,” she said through clenched teeth. “Are you working the party?” As polite as she was trying to be, her distasteful glance at his work attire didn’t go unnoticed by anyone.

JJ wasn’t disheartened by her question, and only smiled bigger. “Yes ma’am, I work at the Island Club for such events. I also deliver groceries and mow lawns. But don’t worry. I still make plenty of time to take Y/N out on dates and treat her like the princess she is.” You found his gaze once again, and you swear you could kiss him. He’s really milking this whole encounter with your parents and you promised yourself to thank him later.

“Oh, that’s nice,” your dad responded for your mother. She was practically seething underneath that perfect mask of hers, but your father looked quite uncomfortable as well. And here you thought Midsummers would be boring.

You listened in on the awkward conversation a few minutes more before you spoke up. “I’m glad you guys finally met, but we’re gonna go now. Enjoy the party!” You grinned one last time at your parents before grabbing JJ’s hand and dragging him away, leaving them to simmer in their shock and anger without you.

You had made it all the way to the other side of the dance floor before you burst out laughing. Giggles poured out of you loudly, and JJ couldn’t help but join in. You didn’t even care how awkward that whole situation was, you found it absolutely hilarious and you were happy to see that JJ seemed to think so too. “Thanks for playing along with that, man,” you smiled. “I totally owe you.”

JJ Maybank was confused to say the least. He caught on to your little plan and used his superb improv skills to play along, but he didn’t really know why. He’d never met you before, and couldn’t possibly figure out why you would claim him as your boyfriend. And though you two had never met, he knew exactly who you were. Everyone did. You were Y/N Y/L/N. Your parents were among the richest Kooks on the whole island, and you were their perfect Kook Princess. Why on earth would you ever tell them that he was your boyfriend? He was a low-life Pogue. None of it made any sense.

He wanted to ask you for an explanation, but he was too caught up in the moment with you. He had never seen you up close before, and had to admit he found you intriguingly beautiful. Your eyes gleaming as your whole face lit up, your dress showing off your nice figure and complimenting you perfectly, even the giggles escaping your lips screamed beauty. He had his mind made up about you, thinking you’re no different than every other rich girl on the island, but now he’s not so sure. From the moment you abruptly grabbed his hand, he could tell you didn’t give a fuck about anything. You seemed fun.

“Do you always try to freak your parents out like that?” he asked with a laugh.

You chuckled too with a nod. “Yeah. They’re too comfy in their dumb Kook lifestyle, so I like to scare them every once in a while.” You looked up at him with your pretty smile, and he could only smile back. Your words suddenly made him like being in your presence a whole lot more.

He watched as you messed with your flower crown, the flowers getting caught in your hair as you unceremoniously pulled it off of your head. “Stupid fucking flower crown...” you mumbled before tossing it off to the side on the ground. JJ laughed at your messed up hair, but reached his hands up to fix it for you. You couldn’t care less about what you looked like, which he found odd about you, but you enjoyed the feeling of his fingers running through your hair, patting down the wild strands.

You took this opportunity to really look at him. His blonde hair was messy and the locks fell over his forehead. The bruises marking his face did little to hide how attractive he was, the cut on his lip seemed to make him even more attractive to you. Even his work uniform was tattered and wrinkled, but he still managed to look good in it. He finished messing with your hair and tucked a strand behind your ear, eyes meeting yours, and neither of you could hide your curious smiles. “Thanks,” you hummed. He only nodded in response.

Your eyes wandered as you tried to figure out what to say, but you caught sight of Topper bounding down the staircase, his gaze searching through the party, probably for you. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath, grabbing JJ’s shoulders and positioning him in front of you. You stepped closer to him as you peaked your head over his shoulder to keep your eyes on the Kook you ditched.

“Hiding from someone?” JJ asked, looking down at you with amusement.

You nodded. “Just the guy my parents tried to set me up with. I may or may not have ditched him,” you laughed sheepishly. Maybe you should’ve felt bad, but you didn’t.

JJ spared a glance over his shoulder. “Which one of these unlucky bastards was it?”

You giggled, still trying to hide your frame completely behind JJ. “Topper Thornton. Frosted Tips. Looks like a lost puppy.”

JJ laughed and you could practically feel the warm vibrations from his chest. His pretty eyes met yours again, and he surprised you by wrapping his arm around your waist while his other hand found yours, bringing the pair of you into a waltz position. A smile tugged on your lips as you placed your other hand on his broad shoulder, and you both began to sway.

JJ never pictured himself in this position before. Slow dancing with you, the Kook Princess of all people, at the Kookiest party of the year no less. He felt a strange sense of pride knowing that you had ditched Topper and are instead dancing with him. Being this close to you, he found himself trying to memorize your features, the color of your eyes, the softness of your hand in his, and the enticing curve of your waist which he had the pleasure of holding onto.

“So,” JJ spoke softly. “What do you normally do when you’re not attending fancy parties and pissing off your parents?” He didn’t know why, but he wanted to find out more about you. You’re already quite different than what he made you out to be.

“Getting into more trouble,” you responded with a wink.

He chuckled. “Oh yeah? Like what?”

You shrugged. “Last month, I ran off to Cuba for a week without telling anyone.” You didn’t think it was a big deal, but you noticed the waves of surprise in JJ’s eyes. You giggled at his expression. “What about you? When you’re not serving drinks, delivering groceries, or mowing lawns,” you paused to admire the bruises on his face. “What do you do?”

“Get into trouble,” he laughed, shooting your words back at you.

You played along. “Oh yeah? Like what?” You don’t know when it happened, but you realized now that you guys were closer than before. Your chest was pressed into his, and his face was so close you could kiss him with the slightest lift onto your toes.

“Picking fights with your Kooky friends, usually,” he chuckled.

“If you’re referring to Topper and his goons, we’re not friends.” JJ’s lips lifted into a small smile at your words. If he wasn’t mistaken, you were about as fond of those assholes as he was.

You both were just staring at each other, choosing to put the small talk to rest and just enjoy the moment. JJ’s eyes never left yours as you brought both of your arms around his neck, leaving him to wrap his arms around your back, diminishing any space there was between your bodies. You thought he might’ve kissed you with the way his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, but he didn’t. Instead, his hands found yours and he spun you around so that your back was against him, your arms crossed over your body as you continued to sway.

His lips hovered over your neck briefly, and you released a sigh, trying to remember the last time you felt so close to someone, so content and in the moment. Something about the boy holding you in his arms gave you butterflies, that warm and exciting feeling spreading through your veins. He suddenly released one of your hands and pushed you so that you were spinning away from him, but then caught you and pulled you back.

You giggled as he twirled you around the dance floor, pleasantly surprised at how good of a dancer he was. Staying hidden from Topper wasn’t even on your mind anymore. With his grip on both of your hands, you both spun around, making the other dancing patrons have to move out of the way. Your laugh bubbled louder, and you couldn’t care less about the other guests. JJ found himself laughing along with you, even though part of him still wondered why he was here, dancing and having fun with you.

After a moment, he pulled you back against him and you both fought to catch your breaths while the laughter died down. He admired your features again, and the question he’s been dying to ask finally escaped passed his lips. “How come you’re not embarrassed to be seen with me?” He didn’t mean it to sound so insecure, he was rather genuinely curious.

Your brows furrowed slightly in confusion, your grin turning into a frown. “Why would I be embarrassed?”

He scoffed lightly. “Come on, Y/N. We’re from two different worlds.” His eyes wandered for a second, noticing the amount of eyes on the two of you, probably floored at the scene you guys had just made. “Everyone is watching. The Kook Princess dancing with a Pogue...” He didn’t mean to bring down the mood, but he couldn’t help it. He was used to being dismissed, used to being viewed as a disgusting Pogue that only got into trouble.

You brought your hands up to brush his hair away from his face, your bright smile returning. Your hands then cupped his cheeks, your thumb gently brushing over his split lip. “I don’t give a fuck about these people.” JJ chuckled, feeling his spirits lift once again. Your fingers dragged down his neck and landed on his collar, which you straightened for him.

“You know,” you started, eyes fixed on the buttons of his white shirt. “I expected tonight to be the absolute worst, but I’m actually having an amazing time.” You peered up at him through your lashes, and JJ smiled.

“Oh yeah?” he smirked, his usual flirty persona returning. “And why is that?”

You giggled, deciding to humor him. “I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that my handsome fake boyfriend has some damn good dance moves,” you winked. Your chest became warm at the sound of JJ’s deep chuckle, his breath fanning over your face.

Among the many judgy looks the pair of you were getting, your parents were also watching from a nearby table. JJ noticed their burning glares, and an idea popped into his head. Gazing into your pretty eyes, he smirked with a nod of his head to the side. When you glanced over and was greeted with the sight of your very angry parents, a grin creeped onto your face. You were making quite the spectacle, but really, who cares? “Want to give them something to be really pissed about?” JJ asked.

You looked at him curiously, but nodded nonetheless. You were already thrilled with how the night was going, and wondered what else he could possibly have up his sleeve. He leaned forward and suddenly, his lips were on yours. Your surprise was soon washed away and you allowed yourself to melt into the kiss, arching your back to press your chest into him.

His hand rested on the back of your neck, pulling you in even closer as you both indulged in one another. His other large hand squeezed your hip, and you squealed softly against his lips. After a few more seconds, you pulled away from each other, gleaming smiles on your faces. Yeah, that sure made your parents fucking livid. Your mother had excused herself from the table they were sitting at, and your father followed after her, but you weren’t paying attention to them.

JJ had rested his palms on your cheeks, just looking at you, and he knew then that he wouldn’t be able to get you off of his mind no matter how hard he tried. Your hands gripped his wrists, and you felt sad for a moment, thinking about how JJ probably needs to get back to work. He needs to get back to his life, and you need to get back to yours. “I’ll see you around, JJ?” You held your breath, hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time you saw him.

He kissed you once more, short and sweet, before pulling away again with a smirk. “Definitely.” And with that, he made his way back through the party and into the building while you watched, not being able to hide your giddy grin.

***

Pls let me know what you think :) love you all

Masterlist

***

Obx tags: @sportygal55 @jazbarnes05 @lovelogan @lannxyz @caseyabel28 @falling-perfectly @thisismynerdyself @mattelblake @justanotherbooklover @hemmingsness @queenofthepouges @dontjinx-it @pink-meringues @outerbnx-stiles @little-miss-rebel3 @shreckluver7

JJ tags: @kaylinfayezink @unfortunatekiwitrash @shy-1234 @bijleegiregi @cheshirecat107 @yami5525 @folkloverr @dracoswhore007

#skiesofthesketchy #outer banks #obx #jj maybank #jj x reader #outer banks fic #jj maybank x reader #rudy pankow #jj x kook!reader #obx fic #obx imagine #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic #midsummers

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derekmorganscrocs · 3 years

Text

Pictures: Ace x Reader

Pairing: Drew!Reader x Ace (Nancy Drew CW)

Word Count: 7, 632 words

Request for @ateliefloresdaprimavera

Summary: When Carson asks reader for an old photo, her and Ace go through their photos and reminisce on their years of memories. From how they met, to their first kiss, to when they moved in together, the pair enjoy remembering their past and talk about the future.

Notes: Reader is Nancy’s older sister and a nurse student. None of the timelines really add up, so just don’t think about that too much lol. This is my first request, so I hope I did alright! It took so long and I got majorly carried away (7k words whoop whoop!), but I’m so happy with it and I hope you enjoy!! Flashbacks are in italics!

You walk into the apartment you and Ace share, throwing your keys onto the little table in the entryway and placing your bag on the ground. It’s been a long day, and you really just want to see your boyfriend. A smile appears on your face as you breathe in the smell of your favourite dinner cooking and savour the sound of Ace humming along to some Bon Jovi song he and his dad listened to when Ace was a little kid.

A small laugh escapes your lips, and you make your way into the kitchen. Ace must not have heard you come in, because he jumps when you wrap your arms around his waist. He realizes it’s you by the old bracelet on your wrist, an old woven strip of leather that his dad gave you the Christmas after you guys got together. It’s one of your most prized possessions. He turns, staying in your grip, and smiles down at you.

“Hey,” he says softly, lifting your chin with his finger. Ace leans in and plants a sweet kiss against your lips. You smile into the kiss, and when he pulls away you lean your head against his chest. He wraps his arms snugly around your shoulders, and you melt into his embrace.

“Today was like a thousand years long,” you groan, your voice muffled by his chest. “And its only like six o’clock!” Your comment makes him let out a small laugh and the sound makes you smile. It’s been all of a minute, and Ace is already turning your day around. Though that’s been his specialty for a long time.

“Well, once we eat I thought we could go through old polaroids. Mr. D wants a copy of the one from Halloween two years ago.” Ace glances down at you, but you keep your face smushed against him.

“Sounds great.” The sound is still muffled, but he can hear that you’re more than happy with the idea. He laughs slightly, he’s always found your exhausted antics funny. You tilt your face slightly, glancing at the food on the stove.

Ace follows your gaze, reaching to stir the pasta so it won’t burn to the pot. Your eyes catch on his arm. The way he’s stretching is really just defining every single muscle. He’s concentrated on the food, trying to focus enough that he won’t mess up using a single hand. When he’s really focused, he bites his lip slightly, and he’s really focused right now. And if you weren’t so tired, oh boy-

“Hey, it’s done!” He’s still clueless. You’ve been dating for six years and sometimes he still doesn’t notice the way you just stare blankly for a minute, imagining his hands roaming your body or his lips pressed against yours as he- “Let’s eat on the couch, we can start looking at pictures now.”

“Okay.” You finally move out of his grip, feeling a lot less warm and fuzzy without his arm around you. “Hey, do we have a printed version of the one Nancy took the day we met?”

“I think so, they’re sorted by date, right?”

“Yes. I still love your mom for that, by the way.” You grin at him, turning and heading toward the couch. He chuckles before following, and the two of you sit and eat, flipping through an album first.

The album is older pictures, from before you met, but it’s so fun to look through. Little BoyScout Ace is such an adorable image, it never fails to make you laugh and make him blush. And your younger self playing doctor has the same effect, with reversed reactions of course. It only takes a little bit to finish dinner, and Ace returns the dishes to the kitchen to leave table space for photos. He comes back, this time sitting closer. You curl up against his side, and he drapes an arm over you.

“Can we look through all of our pictures?”

“I was gonna ask the same thing,” he chuckles, picking up a smaller album. You recognize it right away, it’s the one from your first year of high school. When you started taking polaroids. It’s been a fascination of yours forever, and cameras have always been an interesting hobby for you.

The first picture is actually of the school, and you notice the former Mr. G standing in the corner, looking shady as hell. That’s from the beginning of the year, when you and your sister, Nancy, got roped into the mysterious locker thief at school.

The next is the ‘crime scene’ photos you took. They’re no professional photos, but they’re decent. Ace looks them over and gives you an impressed smirk. You chuckle and flip to the next photo. You and Ace in the back of a cop car.

You pressed tape over the powder that Nancy had spread over the teacher’s desk, praying that some clear fingerprints will show up. The desk was cleaned only a few minutes before the theft, which meant that the fingerprints should be visible.

A cough in the hallway tore you from your thoughts. You and your sister glance up, caught in the act. Fearing detention, the pair of you decided to hide behind the door and make a break for it once the teachers were inside of the room. Solid plan, if they were teachers.

Instead, you were met with two very strong, very angry looking men, who were glaring at you and Nancy. In the heat of the moment, the two of you made a wordless decision to split up, and ran off in opposite directions. Dashing through the school, Thief One got on your heels, you had known that your only sanctuary would be the old janitor’s closet.

It was easy to miss. Tucked just around a corner, outside the gym and hidden because of the angle of the wall, Thief One would totally not notice it if he didn’t know about it. And if he did know about it, you just hoped he would believe the stories about it being haunted. Which, in hindsight, were probably true.

It came down to a split second decision, and you went for the closet. Choosing to go for the supply closet, willing to risk ghosts over crazy thieves who want your head on a stick, you flung the door open...

...And ran right into a mildly familiar fluffy-haired boy. Apologizing profusely at a whisper, you’d closed the door behind you and shushed him. The closet was smaller than you had remembered, and Ace basically had you pinned to the door. Holding a finger to your lips with a pleading look in your eye, you waited for the footsteps.

They came soon enough, pounding on the floor by the door as he rushed past. You could hear the man open the back door, which was his fatal mistake. Never open the door. Security systems exist. The alarm started blaring, which meant that the cops got called. You let out a sigh of relief, tilting your head back against the door.

“What’s going on?” Ace had watched your expression relax, and he’d noted how breathless you were when you burst in. He was impressed, to say the least, and really curious.

“Tell you later,” you whispered hurriedly, bringing a hand to his mouth. “Don’t let him hear us.” Chest still rising and falling rapidly, you try and catch your breath. Ace nods and you remove your hand, focusing on your breathing.

A few more silent minutes had passed and then the cops had arrested the man outside your closet. You and Ace had come out quietly, seeing Nancy with Chief McGinnis, and two officers watching the two men you and Nancy had accidentally caught.

After seating you in the police car, shouting at Carson for letting you break into the school, McGinnis had to decide what to do. He ended up dragging you, Nancy, and Ace to the station, only to later send Ace home. Nancy got front seat privileges because she had more of an explanation than you. Which resulted in your dad snapping a picture of you and Ace in the backseat.

Ace got sent home as soon as you all got to the station, but his interest had been piqued.

“I remember that. You busted into that supply closet and nearly killed me with the door.”

“It’s not like I meant to, I was being chased by a criminal!” You give him a gentle smack on the back of the head, laughing. “And if I remember correctly, you were still flirting with me for weeks after that.”

“Well that was just uncalled for.” He pretends to be offended, which makes both of you laugh again. “But yes, when you broke into that closet, it was game over. No one else was ever going to compare to you.”

Your face burns at the compliment, and you try and hide your smile. A soft giggle escapes your lips despite your efforts to stop it, and Ace lifts your chin.

“I mean it. You’re something else, Y/n Drew.” He glances down, distracted by a picture from May of your second year of high school. That’s when you and Ace first got together. It’s a picture of you and him, sitting on the hill out behind the school.

It was over when Ace had taken his first look at you. He fell hard and he fell fast. He was so painfully obvious about it too. Not that it bugged you, ever since he’d had you pinned against that door, all you could think about were his piercing blue eyes and his sly smirk. The two of you started hanging out more, and the rest is history.

By the end of your sophomore year, you were dating Ace. Not to mention head over heels for him. Same went for him about you. You guys were inseparable. Are inseparable.

On the hill, you took out the camera. Ace grinned, knowing exactly what he should do. You flip the camera, pointing it to capture you and Ace, caught completely off guard when he kissed you. The timer ended and it snapped the photo, but you were too wrapped up in the moment to realize.

You put the camera down and leaned in more, fully embracing the moment. Ace was, and still is, everything you could ask for. When the pair of you had pulled back, it was pretty clear that no one else would ever stand a chance.

Both of you smile at each other, and you kiss Ace softly. Smiling happily, he pulls back, still holding the album in his hand. He flips a few pages, and there’s a picture of when you went to prom. You’re sitting next to your mom, Ace standing behind you. Despite the sadness in the air, everyone was smiling. It brings tears to your eyes, and Ace glances over to see if you’re okay.

“I, uh, I forgot we had this one,” you whisper. He pulls you closer, and you lean against him for a second, remembering the night.

After pictures, you and Ace had separated from Nancy. She wasn’t your biggest fan anymore, and she had never really gotten along with Ace in high school. Something about weed and the fact that he almost went to prison, who knows. Columbia was her priority.

You and Ace had only spent a little while in the gym, you bailed about two hours in. The room was hot and sweaty, and you and Ace had other plans anyway. The plan was to make a quick stop at home and pick up some cash and a phone charger, then take off for a date night. If you guys had time, you’d pop back into prom for a while.

When you got home, your mother was dying. Ace was there for you and your dad, and your mom, in a way. She saw him protecting you and Carson, and you know how much peace of mind that must’ve given her. She slipped away, and you sobbed into Ace’s arms.

“Did I ever thank you? For... For that night?” You look up at Ace, wiping away a tear.

“Thank me? Why would you thank me?”

“You were there for me.”

“I’d be there for you no matter what. No thanks necessary,” he says softly, brushing another teardrop off your cheek.

“Well, thank you, Ace. For everything ever. Because I love you.”

“I love you.” He shifts slightly, rolling you over him. You laugh at the sudden movement, and before you can truly process, you’re snuggled against his side, both of you laying comfortably on the couch.

He picks up the album again, flipping to the last photo. This one is beautiful. It’s yours and Ace’s hands, fingers interlocked. You can see the edge of the bluffs in the background, and the clouds lining the sky are a mix of deep and light greys.

Neither of you say anything yet, both of you are wrapped up in remembering the moment.

A few months into your senior year (Ace’s gap year), there was a rough patch. Ace had gotten this idea, that he was dragging you down. You were this perfect girl, Y/n Drew. Your father, Carson, the top lawyer in the district, and Kate has been just about the kindest woman in Horseshoe Bay. Not to mention that your sister was (is) some crime fighting genius. And when you had decided to be a nurse? He’d realized he was right.

The rift had started, and you felt it. The idea of losing him scared you shitless, so you sat him down to talk about it. It was a nice moment actually, walking up the path to the bluffs. Literally all you did was remind him that he was good enough. That he’s some techno genius and that you weren’t going anywhere far, not with your Dad and Nancy in the place that they were. Not with the loss of your mom. Besides, you never wanted to leave Horseshoe Bay. The hospital needed more nurses. So it’s not like you’re gonna leave him, and it’s not like you think he’s not a good guy. Man, the look on his face when the words-

“I’m not going anywhere. I love you, Ace. Forever.”

-had come out of your mouth were priceless. That night stays one of your most cherished memories. The night you and Ace dished it all out at sunset on the bluffs. You reminded him that he was good enough and that you needed him. He reminded you that he had your back.

Each of you reminded the other that you loved them. That’s why that night is so important.

“I remember that. I can’t believe I ever thought I was dragging you down.”

“Me neither. Honestly, you make everything so much better, all the time.” You shift your gaze to his face, smiling slightly. He smiles too, how could he not? “Ace, I need you to know how much you mean to me.”

“I know. You mean so much to me, too,” he whispers. You feel his grip on you tighten slightly, making you realize he’s nervous.

“Why are you nervous?”

“I’m not.”

“Tell.”

He knows what that means. It was established a long time ago. Both of you know what a ‘tell’ is, mystery solving is common for you, so knowing when someone is lying is important. You and Ace say ‘tell’ whenever it’s obvious the truth is being avoided.

“You’re not breaking up with me, are you?”

“You’re dumb,” you laugh. “Obviously not.”

“Thank god,” he sighs in relief.

“I’ve thought about how to say this a lot and I really don’t want to freak you out, but the idea of seeing someone else makes me sick. I love you Ace, and I don’t see myself loving anyone else like this.”

“The idea of losing you hurts me more than anything else I can think of,” he replies. “You and me, that’s what makes all of this worth it.”

The room falls silent for a second, and you trace circles against his chest with your finger. He rubs your arm with his thumb, hand splayed over your upper arm, still from before.

Ace shifts slightly, moving the album onto the table, but something falls from it. An extra photo. From when you moved in together.

You and Ace moved in together after your first year of college. It was funny, finding an apartment between Horseshoe bay and your new school was so easy. No one else wanted to live in the middle, but it’s perfect for you. Ace could go to the Claw, you could go to school.

“Ace, is this for real?”

You’d looked around in awe. All of your belongings were in your new home, the one you shared with Ace. It was perfect. You wouldn’t change a thing.

“This is for real,” he reassured you.

The pair of you had spent the night organizing your cupboards and shelves, a task most people would call tedious, yet for the pair of you it had been one of the best nights ever.

Now it’s your last year of college, and so much as the thought of losing Ace makes you sick to your stomach. He’s perfect. He’s the sunshine on your cloudy days, the left to your right, the anchor of your ship, the rock to your roll. The two of you have become two halves of a whole. You’re his and he’s yours, and neither of you want it any other way.

Ace laughs, pulling you back to reality and away from your thoughts. He holds up a picture from after your first week of school. You’re absolutely knocked out on the couch, exhausted from school.

You’d lived with Ace for two months. And it was fantastic. Your decision to be a nurse was finalized when you lost your mom, and the idea of staying nearby stemmed from the state of your family. Nancy’s downward spiral and your father drifting were signs for you to stay close.

So you did. You went to (and still do go to) the university one town over from Horseshoe Bay, and your apartment is right smack in the middle. Ace could still get to the Claw, major props to the reliable Florence for that, and you could still get to school.

It was perfect. Studying to be a nurse was exhausting, and trying to protect your sister was so hard. She never wanted any help, she was so focused on pushing everyone away. It was hard, but Ace was there for you. As he always was (and is).

When you woke up the next morning, you were in your bed, snuggled up with Ace. Honestly, if you hadn’t already known he was the one, you did then. He’s caring and sweet, funny too. Not to mention he’s super attractive.

And that year was one of the best you’d ever had. It had been relatively uneventful, aside from finally reconnecting with your father. And any day you spent with Ace, those were always an adventure. But it was amazing. And that was the year you and Ace really locked in your future together.

Late night talks, dinner dates, lazy Sundays, even the silly arguments. All of it was irreplaceable.

You smile at the thought, and Ace holds up the picture you’ve been searching for. Two Halloweens ago. You almost wonder why your dad, Carson, wants it, but when you really look at the photo, you know. You and Ace look so happy in your stupid costumes.

“Tell me the two of you aren’t dressed up as those kids from that stupid fairy cartoon.”

“Why would we tell you that, George? We clearly are.”

The pair of you had laughed. You had thought the pink hat on Ace’s head and your outfit made it obvious. Bess, on the other hand, was loving the outfits. The lot of you were hanging around in the Claw, waiting for Nick to show up so you could head to the party. The joys of carpooling.

“Are you dressed as Timmy Turner?” Nick had walked through the door wearing a really fancy looking suit, and come over to join the group.

An interesting combo: Ace and Y/n as Timmy and Trixie from the Fairly Odd Parents, Nancy as Sherlock Holmes, as usual, George as herself- which she was calling Kim Possible (but you all knew she just threw on a close enough outfit because didn’t really want to dress up), Bess as Cher from Clueless, and Nick as a magician. So yeah. Wacko. But now that Nick had shown, you could head out to the real party.

“Hey, hold on!” You held up your camera that you’d been keeping in Ace’s car (Florence). “Come on guys, pictures before we go!”

You set up the timer and took a few different group shots, then decided to head out. You handed the camera to Nancy, who had a purse on her. Little did you know that she had taken a snapshot of you and Ace talking.

The party was crazy fun, aside from a guest appearance from some girl with a surprisingly realistic sea ghost costume. No one ever really talked about that again, for some reason.

When you headed out, you and Ace had decided to spend the night in your childhood home. The drive was just too long for that night, since it was already so late. When you and Ace had curled up on the couch, Nancy handed you the photo.

It was perfect. You and Ace laughing about having the same favourite cartoon, your expressions were pure joy.

“Are you really the kids from that stupid fairy show?!” You make fun of George’s comment. “Coming from the one who didn’t dress up,” you finish with a laugh. Ace laughs with you, shifting slightly so he can glance at your face. It’s a little awkward because of the way you’re laying, but cute nonetheless.

“That night was crazy. Do you think sea-ghost-girl was Dead Lucy?”

“I never thought about it.” Your eyes widen, and you pause. “You think?”

“Nah,” both of you say with a laugh, brushing off the idea. You sit up, setting the Halloween photo aside.

“We’ll make a copy for Mr. D, yeah?” Ace props himself up on his elbows, half sitting up. He fully enjoys the view of you, fully immersed in looking over these photos. You’re so entranced with the memories that it’s like your in another world. He sits up all the way, pushing back your hair.

“I’m sure my dad would love copies of all of these,” you say softly, eyes settling on some old photos of you and your mom, Nancy and your mom, or even you and Ace with mom. “Oh- Maybe not this one!” You laugh as you slip a more scandalous photo out of the album, handing it to Ace.

He blushes profusely, running his hand through his hair with a chuckle.

“Oh god!” Ace looks down quickly, probably imagining your dad seeing. “If he saw this he would kill me!” Both of you laugh, glancing at each other.

Ace planted a kiss at the base of your neck, and you laughed as you tried to finish writing the answer to a question on your notes.

“Ace,” you mumbled. He didn’t respond, he was wrapped up in the moment. You took his chin, pulling his face so that his eyes meet yours. “Can I finish this sheet?”

“No.”

He gave you that look, and you gave in instantly.

“I mean, I don’t have class tomorrow.” You glanced at him, and he was smiling like an idiot. Without a second thought, you grabbed the camera off the coffee table and snap a photo of his stupid grin. Both of you laughed as the flash illuminated his face, and you went to put the camera down.

“Nah,” Ace had whispered softly, leaning in. “Bring it.”

Then he swung you into his arms and carried you toward your bedroom.

When you manage to compose yourself and bring your thoughts to the present moment, you can feel the heat of your face. You just hope Ace doesn’t pick up on it, because he’ll tease you about this for days.

“Hey, you better keep that somewhere that no one will see,” you laugh.

“Oh I fully intend on doing that.” He tucks the small photo into the chest pocket of his shirt, giving it a pat once it’s hidden in the fabric. “Hey, it’s not that late yet. We may as well drive in tonight and hand deliver the photos.”

“That sounds so good,” you say with a smile, looking over at Ace. “We’ve still got like two hours of daylight left. Plus we could maybe stop at our spot for sunset. We haven’t done that in a while.”

“We should, it’s been like six months since we spent sunset on the bluffs.” He gazes over at you, watching as you stack up the photos. You glance over and he pretends he wasn’t just staring at you. Obviously you know he was, but you think it’s adorable that he still has his shy moments.

“Can I drive?”

“No. You can take a nap in the front seat, because I know you’re tired.” He kisses your cheek, standing in front of you.

“You just don’t want me to drive Florence,” you laugh.

“Not true.”

“Is too!”

“Nah-uh.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“No-“ he cuts himself off by kissing you. You kiss back, of course. You weren’t seriously arguing with him, just playing. “You’re telling me you don’t want a nap?” He pulls back slightly, looking into your eyes.

“Oh I definitely want a nap. I’m just being funny,” you tease.

“Alright then, you’re hilarious.” He rolls his eyes playfully, and you pretend to be hurt by his faux-annoyance. “You wanna head out now?” He takes your hand, dragging you off the couch. You stand in front of him, glancing up slightly.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

After you get changed and Ace puts away the dishes, the pair of you make your way to the car- sorry, Florence, and put the box of photos in the backseat. Before long, you’re on the road, Ace’s playlist drifting through the speakers of the car. You try to stay awake, but you’re just so tired. As absurd as it sounds, you fall asleep to an AC/DC song that he likes.

Ace wakes you up nearly an hour later, and as you wake up you realize where you are.

“Dad’s place?”

“Yeah. I made a stop and copied the photos in town so you could sleep,” he tells you quickly. “Come on, he doesn’t know we’re here. I want to surprise him.”

It doesn’t take you long to fully wake up. There’s a sort of salty smell to the air, the water of the bay blowing in on the wind. It’s the energy of Horseshoe Bay that you’ve missed so dearly, and it has you awake in an instant. You stretch, looking around quickly. Nothing on the street has changed since you left, and that’s comforting. Ace leads the way, envelope full of the copies in his hand.

The door is opened before you even reach the stairs. Carson Drew stands in the doorway, a bright smile written on his face.

“What are you guys doing here?! I thought you were busy until the end of the month!”

“We had some spare time tonight and our weekend plans fell through,” Ace says happily, walking up the stairs. You follow, only a step behind. “It’s great to see you, Mr. D!”

Your father has the pair of you wrapped in a warm embrace before you can even greet him. He’s overjoyed that you’re home, especially with how busy your life has been lately. He’s happy that you’re taking a weekend off.

“Hey dad,” you say softly. He lets you go, and Ace steps back so that you can enter the house first. “It’s good to be back.” You walk through the doorway, Ace and your dad following.

In the house, you give your dad a proper hug before you spot your sister, Nancy, on the couch. Ace and your dad start talking behind you when you’ve let go of him, and you head into the living room.

“Hey, Red.” You use your old nickname for your red-haired sister, a smile tugging at your lips.

Nancy’s head jerks up at the sound of your voice. A grin spreads over her face and she removes her headphones. Standing quickly, she yanks you into a hug.

“You’re back?!”

“Yeah. Weekend off,” you explain, hugging your sister tightly. It’s nice to actually hug her again.

The last few times you were in Horseshoe Bay she was off trying to find some missing jewellery, or solve some sort of embezzlement mystery? You don’t really remember. Ever since things have been good with you and Nancy again, she’s been busy. Not that you’re complaining, you’re just glad she’s back to liking you.

“Hey, what’s Ace got?” She glances over at the kitchen and you remove yourself from her embrace to follow her gaze.

“The picture dad asked for. And some extras.”

“Right. Did you guys bring the Christmas one? Dad was looking for a duplicate of it the other day.” Nancy looks at you, watching you admiring Ace.

“Uh, I think we keep the Christmas ones separate, we didn’t look at them today. Which one was he looking for?”

You glance over at Nancy, and she picks up her phone, flipping it over. There’s a Polaroid in her case. You can see because she has a clear case, the picture sits sandwiched between the phone and the plastic of the case.

This photo is of you, Ace, Carson, and Nancy on Christmas. The four of you are standing in the front yard, which is covered in snow. Everyone’s bundled up and there’s a bunch of sleds around Ace.

“Come on, please?!”

“Y/n, we’ll be late,” your dad chuckled, walking over to where you want everyone standing despite his remark. He never seriously objected to photos anyway. He likes having keepsakes.

“Aw, come on Mr. D, we’ll add you to our Christmas card!”

“Ace, we don’t even have a Christmas card!” You set up the camera against the fence, laughing at your boyfriend as you set a timer. You turned, taking in the scene for a split second before you rushed to join them.

Carson stood with an arm around Nancy, and Ace was beside them, four sleds leaning against him. You chuckled slightly, jogging over to join them. You’d have called it running, but the snow slows you down. You threw your arms around Ace, laughing as he dropped the sleds to catch you. The camera clicked, and everyone was smiling.

When you fetched the camera, you ended up with a beautiful photo of you and Ace laughing with sleds on the ground in front of you, and Carson and Nancy laughing at you, leaning against each other. It was perfect. It was your family.

Sledding at the local park is an annual tradition in Horseshoe Bay. There’s even a race on the 23rd, two days before Christmas. That’s where you were headed.

The four of you were walking, the hill was attached to a park not far away from your Dad’s house. Ace and your dad were talking about your dad’s work, Ace always was genuinely interested in the whole lawyer thing. You’d just been watching contently, glad that Ace got along with Carson.

“Y/n,” Nancy said quietly, bringing your attention to her.

“Yeah?”

“I know you’ve only been out of our house for like a year, but I had a lot of time to think.”

“That’s never good,” you tease. She rolls her eyes but continues.

“When mom died, I pushed you away. I forgot you were losing someone too, and I was horrible to you and dad. I’m sorry.”

“Nance, you never have to apologize to me. I’m your big sister. I’m here to protect you and forgive you no matter what. It was rough for all of us. I understand why you felt like that.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Nope. Of course not. I’m your sister. We’re good. We’ll always be good.”

“Thanks, Y/n.”

“Love you, crapface.”

“Love you too.”

Nancy pretended to be exasperated with the nickname, but you both knew how happy she was that you weren’t upset. She’d let you back in, and you’d taken the opening that was offered. That Christmas was the first one since your mom died that you and Nancy were fully on good terms.

“You still have that one?” You look at your sister, who nods. She doesn’t say anything, just watches your face. When she notices that you’re still thinking, she speaks up.

“I, uh, keep it in my phone case so that I can have you and dad close. Whenever I’m stuck on a case, I ask what you’d tell me to do. It always helps.”

“Of course it helps, I am a genius, after all.”

“Shut up!” Nancy gently punches your arm. The two of you laugh, sitting on the couch to catch up.

After maybe an hour of everyone talking and catching up, Ace stands. You check the time, realizing it’s eight o’clock. The sun is setting.

“Oh, sorry guys. We actually have one more thing we need to do,” you tell your dad and sister, standing to join Ace.

“We’ll be back before too long,” Ace reassures them, taking your hand.

You find it odd that Ace is reassuring them, given that he seems nervous today. Especially right now. You shrug it off as stress, deciding to just enjoy the night. You can ask about it tomorrow. You almost don’t notice the nervous glance Ace throws at your dad before you go out the door. You still do notice, but choose to ignore that too. You will have a nice sunset date at the bluffs, and that’s that.

Apparently, you’re actually going to have a windy sunset date at the bluffs. It’s still beautiful, and the sunset is the clearest sky you’ve seen from the bluffs in years. It’s just a little windy.

“Hey, smile.” Ace pulls his phone from his pocket and snaps a photo of you, smiling cheekily. You reach over and knock the hood off his head. He pretends to be offended as he sits back and scoots close to you. “You cold?” Ace puts an arm around you, feeling goosebumps on your skin from the wind.

“It’s not that bad, just the wind.”

He doesn’t really listen though, he takes off his jacket and drapes it over you. Not that you’d complain. The dark jacket is comfortable and warm, and smells like Ace’s cologne.

“You know, one of the things I love about you is that you’re an awful liar.” Ace watches as you slide your arms into the jacket.

“Oh really? What about that time I lied us out of getting arrested?”

“Okay, That was different. And we were just breaking and entering. They weren’t actually gonna hold us.”

“Fair enough,” you say with a laugh.

“Another thing I love about you is that you care about everyone. And you’re not selfish.”

“Neither are you.” You look over at him nervously, wondering why he’s telling you this. Your vision is slightly spotty from staring at the sunset, and you have to blink a few times to make sure you’re seeing correctly.

Ace is kneeling beside you, in his hands. A gorgeous ring fills the spot in the velvet box, but honestly, that’s almost the last thing you care about right now.

“Oh,” you gasp, genuinely so shocked that this is happening. Yeah, you and Ace have been together for years, but for some reason you’re still surprised.

“Y/n Drew, you are the bravest, kindest, smartest, coolest, funniest, cutest person I know. You’re beautiful beyond words and I love everything about you. I love how you take pictures of everything, I love the way you see the world. I love that even after a long day you still come home happy.” Ace takes your hand in one of his, and you scoot closer.

“Ace,” you whisper, a smile spreading on your face.

“I love that whenever anyone mentions love I think of you and me. Y/n, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” You launch yourself into his arms, kissing him passionately as the mist of the bay blows against your faces.

When you pull away, he slides the ring onto your finger, before kissing you again. The pair of you watch the rest of the sunset, wrapped in each other’s arms.

You were so glad to finish your third year of university. The stress was over and you could finally hang out in Horseshoe Bay for the summer.

The first night you and Ace arrived was spent with your friends, and part of the night with your dad, telling him about everything that had happened in the last couple weeks of the school year.

The second night was you and Ace on the bluffs, watching the sunset. The mist was blowing in slightly, dampening your faces. It was welcome though, the day had been so hot and you were both sweating.

As the night went on, the wind picked up slightly, leaving you shivering. Ace had of course offered up his jacket, and you ended up wrapped up in it. The pair of you watched the sunset together, like you had so many times before, snuggled up against each other.

You take out your phone as it starts to really get dark and you turn on the flashlight. When you swipe back to the home screen, you see the photo of yours and Ace’s hands, intertwined with the cliff and sunset in the background. The photo from the moment you were just thinking of.

“What are you smiling at?”

“My screen.”

“Should we head back? Everyone’s gonna go crazy.”

“Sounds fun,” you chuckle. “Ace. I love you.”

“I love you.” He kisses you for possibly the millionth time today (not that you mind), and helps you to your feet.

“Hold on,” you tell him, pulling up the camera on your phone. You take his hand and replicate the pose on your lock screen, taking a photo with the flash on.

Instead of the sunset, the night sky is in the background, but it’s just as beautiful. There are so many stars visible that it looks like the sky is glittering, and the flash makes the ring sparkle. You smile at the picture, more than happy with the results. More than happy with everything. You’ve got Ace, your family, your friends, and you’re well on your way to graduating nursing school.

Soon enough you’re back in Florence, headed back to your childhood home. Your favourite song is playing over the radio and you and Ace are singing obnoxiously loudly and horribly. But it’s amazing. The pair of you have never been happier.

When you get back to the house, you and Ace walk in the door, met with your sister and dad in the living room. Nancy and Carson watch you intently, and you extend your hand.

“Did you do it?! You did it!” Your dad pulls you into a crushing hug, before doing the same to Ace. Your sister makes her way over, smiling widely. She glances proudly at Ace before taking your hand to admire the ring.

“I thought he’d chicken out,” she laughs. “I’m impressed.” She pulls you into another hug, and you savour the embrace. It’s a feeling you’ve missed, the true warmth and happiness that you’re feeling right now. It’s good to have Nancy back.

The night progresses, and Ace drags you all to the Claw so he can show off to his friends. And so everyone can celebrate. You suppose they’re your friends too, but they’re closer with him.

“Hey! They’re here guys!” Nick turns to the door as you and Ace walk in, and you see George and Bess standing at the bar. They smile when you come in, deciding to come over when you stop to visit with Nick.

It’s hugs all around, even from George. It’s been a while, so even though she hates to admit it: she missed you. Bess is more than happy to admit she’s been missing you, and she nearly breaks a rib (your rib) when she hugs you. Nick’s hug is soft but secure, and when it’s Ace’s turn to embrace Nick, Nick goes for the bro hug. Ace isn’t having that and engulfs him in a full on bear hug, which results in laughter from everyone else.

It’s good to really see everyone again. Time really gets away from you with school, so it’s hard to get out to Horseshoe Bay. But when you manage to get out here, it’s always great.

The door swings open suddenly, getting everyone’s attention and in walk Ace’s parents. Your heart swells at the sight of Ace’s mom and Thom. They come over to where you sit and you embrace each of them before they take a seat.

“I felt like it was only fitting to announce it here because so many of our best nights were here.” Ace takes your hand, pulling you against him and showing off the ring.

“We’re getting married!” You grin widely, watching as everyone except Carson freaks out. He pretends to be surprised and he’s clearly truly happy, but it’s so obvious that he already knew.

“Oh my god! We need to celebrate, let me go see if we have any good food!” Bess takes off, headed to the storeroom.

“I’m gonna make sure she doesn’t break anything. It’s been awhile since she waitressed.” George heads the same way as Bess, and you turn back to your remaining family and friends.

Ace’s mom is ecstatic and crushes you into a hug, sobbing about how happy you’re making her son. How you’re soulmates. Thom also hugs you, but he’s more gentle. Like he’s afraid to break you. He’s in disbelief, he didn’t think Ace would ask you so soon.

“Welcome to the family,” he signs. You smile, nodding gratefully. Gently taking Ace’s hand, you move it away from yours.

“Thank you, Thom,” you sign back, “I’m honoured.”

If Thom wasn’t crying before, he sure is now. Last he saw, your ASL was a work in progress... but like before it was really a work. It was rough. Baby steps. You’ve been practicing though, and Ace is mind blown.

“When did you learn that?”

“I’ve been practicing.”

Ace watches you in awe for a second as you smile at his parents again. Thom pulls you in for another embrace, teary eyed. You chuckle gently, tears welling in your own eyes, before pulling away from Ace’s dad. You look over to your dad and Nancy, who are smiling like idiots. Not that your face is any different.

“Okay, bad news, there’s no good food.” Bess returns, George in tow.

“Good news, we found a groupon for The Bay Bakery.” George holds up the ticket, displaying the bakery’s logo.

“Sounds good,” Ace agrees with a laugh.

“You kids have fun,” Carson says. “We’ll sit this one out.” He gestures to himself and Ace’s parents, a smile still on his face. Your dad pats your back slightly and you smile at him.

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

That’s that. You and Ace lead the group out the door, and the four remaining pile into their vehicles. It’s all smiles and laughter and it’s decided that you’ll all meet there in a bit. You and Ace climb into his car, sitting in a happy silence for a second.

“Ace, there’s one more person I want to tell.”

Next thing you know, you’re kneeling in front of a slab of rock. Katherine Drew is carved gracefully into the stone. Ace kneels beside you, putting an arm over your shoulder. It’s peaceful. Chilling, but peaceful. Not what you expected, especially since it’s dark out.

“Hey mom,” you whisper. “I, uh, still don’t know if you can hear me or not.” You pause, letting out a small chuckle and trying to blink away the tears brimming your eyes. “I mean at this point you’d think I’d stop leading with that. But nope. Old habits I guess.”

You pause, glancing up at Ace. He cups your face in his hand, brushing away a tear with his thumb.

“Keep going, I’m sure she’ll want to hear.” He gives you a reassuring smile and presses a soft kiss to your temple.

“Mom, Ace proposed to me. We’re going to get married.” It’s odd not hearing a response, but you put your hand against the stone for a second as if it will connect you to her energy once again. Strangely enough, it comforts you. “I miss you, mom.”

“I miss you too, Mrs. D,” Ace adds softly. You let out a small laugh at the nickname, leaning against Ace.

“I’ll visit again soon mom, okay? We’re going to go celebrate right now. I just wanted to tell you first.” You feel a little silly, explaining yourself to a rock, but you know that if your mom is out there somehow, if she could hear anything, this is where she’d hear it.

A short drive later, you’re reconnected with Bess, Nick, George, and Nancy. They’ve already collected some delicious looking snacks and taken a seat on the patio. The employees inside are cleaning up for closing, and the patio is softly lit up by the fairy lights around the patio.

You and Ace sit, joining them in their conversation. You laugh and sit back, a smile burned onto your lips. You’ve got your friends, your family, your Ace. You’re well on your way to finishing school. You’re ready to marry Ace and you’re more than happy. Everything is perfect.

Life is good.

Tags: @ananad1 @remmysrecs @bookish-bucky @sahi-raa @peakyrogers

#nancy drew #nancy drew cw #ace nancy drew #ace nancy drew x reader #ace x reader #ace nancy drew imagine #ace nancy drew fic

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voidsteffy · 3 years

Note

Nancy Drew and Carson Drew for the Character Asks!

Thank you for asking!

For Nancy Drew:

What I love about her: She represents a modern rendition of the beloved character. As much as I hate to say it, the original character was mostly two-dimensional - she could do no wrong and always had things in order. But I love that Kennedy's Nancy is perfectly flawed. Dark and twisted if I may say so.

What I hate about her: Surprisingly, Nancy Drew is the first character in a while that I've found nothing to hate about. Though I dislike how severe (rightfully so) some of her reactions and defense mechanisms were, I don't hate that about her. Her journey that started in second season about needing help and to not be afraid to reach out for it was beautifully. But if that aspect hadn't been introduced, I'm afraid Nancy Drew could turn into a character like Elena Gilbert (tvdu) in time.

Fav moment/quote: (despite the age-gap and the suddenness with which it was introduced, I liked Nowen a bit) (more like I liked Owen lol) so my fav Nancy quote is "It's not always about a guy" It's an underrated one but it kind of sums her character up lol

Needs more focus on: I know they just started the storyline, but I would like there to be more focus on her mental health and actually dealing with her trauma (Kate died, Lucy died, Celia died, Owen died, Carson got arrested bcz of her, the Wraith, the Roadback etc.) with proper therapy. It sets a good example and carves a character around asking for help when they need it.

Needs less focus on: I can't think of anything, because between actually solving mysteries and shacking up, there can be a lot more of Nancy's past dealt with. So nothing for this. I need more, as always lmao

Friendship: Nancy-Bess-George (Nessorge you might say ;P )- the ship has evolved wonderfully in the least screen time given. Bess is almost like an adoptive sister, she even let herself be punched for Bess. George grew from 'I will not hug you' to plopping together on the couch like 'Have you seriously been thinking of flatlining me?' aaah development...

NOTP: Though they're both hot and the actors might have chemistry, I have to say Namura. BECAUSE HE IS QUITE OLDER THAN HER. I absolutely would hate to see another Marrish type situation arise. Tamura is older and it is not romantic, but creepy for a police officer like him get together with a 19 year old young woman. It only seems good on paper (sometimes) but if this happened irl, just.... NO PLS

Headcanon: This is kind of a Nace headcanon but whale here we go: On their drive to New York in Florence, Nancy refuses to sleep in fear that she will never wake up (morbid). But Ace finally convinces her to catch a wink. When he moves his hand to change the gear, his hand brushes against Nancy's, so paying no heed to the driving inconvenience, Ace holds Nancy's hand with his right, driving mostly one handed till New York.

For Carson Drew:

What I love about him: He is the most patient man to ever exist. I mean, he gets arrested because of his daughter AND HE'S STILL OKAY WITH IT AND SMILES WHEN HE'S HOME. He's also so patient with Bess (ugh just adopt her already) and also Ryan. I mean, I now understand why Kate married him cz damn!

What I hate about him: Nothing. The man is literally dad-material. He's sweet, kind, caring, patient, forgiving, space-giving, possessive, defensive about his daughter's care (lol I should put this in the 'love about him' section but...) HE IS PERFECT YOU HEAR ME? If I got into jail for B&E, my dad would disown my ass, unlike Carson who TALKS to her.

Fav moment/quote: For angst purposes, my favorite moment is when Carson admits that the moment Lucy placed Nancy in his and Kate's arms, Nancy was his daughter. (no one cried in that scene nu-uh, no one.) But for humor purposes, my fav moment is when he asks Ryan for a dollar to reengage his services and Ryan's turns on his rich mode. My favorite quote is when McGinnis has to start a ceremony in the house and Nancy explains why. He's like "There are many things we need to discuss"

Needs more focus on: His thoughts about Nancy walking into supernatural danger (and the trailer does show that we will be seeing more of protective dad mode from Mr. D) I also wouldn't be opposed to a thousand more scenes with Ryan as co-dads.

Needs less focus on: Nothing. As I said it earlier, the man is perfect and nothing should be reduced from his scene-length or characterisation.

Friendship: I'm conflicted between Carson-Ace and Carson-Bess. Both the friendships are so precious!

NOTP: I'm obligated to say Karen because she violated my baby Nancy's privacy and ARRESTED CARSON (WTF KAREN).

Headcanon: Right after Nancy caught Nathan Gomber, Carson and Kate wanted to sleep with Nancy in their bed to keep her close. But she refused, saying that she was fine. Still, both Carson and Kate used to take shifts and camp right outside Nancy's room every night for a few weeks so that they would be there if Nancy had any nightmares or night terrors. (ugh my brain works in mysterious ways)

#nancy drew #asks #character opinions #notp #headcanons #ships #friendships #otp #george fan #bess marvin #kennedy's nancy drew #nancy drew cw #finally a place where my overactive analysis comes to use #carson drew #carson drew is the ultimate dad #he is the sweetest guy to ever exist in any fictional universe #ugh i just love the nancy drew crew okay?#can't help it

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chrisevansgoodgirl · 4 years

Text

give me all your venom, i love that shit

summary: i do apologize. no one asked for this...but i accidentally watched assassination nation. okay, it was intentional the first time. but the twenty times after that while i was writing this were accidental. anyway...smut stuff. webcam smut with love of my life Andrew Barber.

warnings: cheating. age gap. andy gets a little dark. this is prob as dark as i would ever write this perfect, beautiful man. a million and one pet names also.

word count: around 11,100 lol oops

pairing: andy barber x reader

a/n: so yes, age gap. it’s unclear what that is. go ahead and do what you will. it’s truly none of my business. also...one day, i’ll write in my tags ‘i’m gonna post tonight’ and actually post that night. not 300 nights later!

Laurie was a great woman, pretty much the kind of woman that you had always wished your mom would just wake up one day and feel completely compelled to act like. She was always so nice when she spoke to you, even the times you were clearly a little drunk and practically falling out of your tiny skirts.

She chalked it up to youth, so you’d once been told. That was huge in the little town you lived in. Mostly, if people saw all the skin you were showing, what they thought of you was clearly written all over their faces.

Laurie just liked talking to you. About anything. Everything. School, friends, boys, the future. This interest that she took in you didn’t end when you stopped babysitting for the Barbers, if anything, it made your conversations warmer. It was evident that the little time she could get with you was precious to her.

Jacob was the sweetest kid in the world. You had been apprehensive when she first called you. One reason only: babysitting boys was the worst. They were little demons and their parents either were blissfully unaware or did know and just didn’t care. You’d seen the same show for several years.

Not Jacob. And definitely not the Barbers. They were all so perfect and well-adjusted. You hadn’t been sure what to make of them those first few months. You had briefly suspected that both Laurie and Andy were total sociopaths who’d spawned another little sociopath. Come to find out, you just actually had such a fucked-up family situation.

Jacob loved playing video games with you, even though you were terrible at them. He never got upset when you made him lose, he just insisted that you needed to practice. Around the time you left, you’d started to get a little decent at them. He also enjoyed coloring and reading, two of your preferred babysitting activities.

Still, he was also an energetic little boy and that meant that he had dragged you outside sometimes to play very distracted versions of soccer, basketball, baseball a few times, and football once. Only once.

You’d both ended up covered in mud, it had been raining that morning but neither of you wanted to be deterred by that. When Laurie found you, she was horrified. Maybe a tad amused, seeing as she needed several pictures of the two of you.

You had wanted to walk home that night, the same thing you did after most shifts. The problem was, they had arrived home a bit later than usual. Laurie first, Andy about 10 minutes later. You didn’t want to walk through the house, so while Laurie was still threatening to hose off Jacob outside, you made your way around to the front porch.

Just as Andy was unlocking the front door.

Andy. He was easily the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. Mostly, he was in these perfect god damn suits because he was a lawyer. Other times, he didn’t shy away from tight shirts that clung to his arms and chest, and jeans that did the same for his ass.

The coveted position of babysitting for the perfect, loving Andy and Laurie Baber. It was hilarious that it went to you because you were the only one who hadn’t been desperately trying to get it. All your friends would bend over backward, even though a friend of a friend of a friend, Julia Something, had claimed that Jacob was an utter hellion.

But what it came down to was the fact that Andy looked like he had been made by someone trying to create the perfect human being. Everyone was just looking for a way in and when you got it, no one could believe it. You hadn’t been as serious about babysitting. You liked the families you liked and tended to stick to three to five, but Laurie got your number from one of those mothers. How could you say no?

According to many of your friends, you should have. It was a betrayal, but one they couldn’t be too mad about because only an idiot would turn down an offer like that. They tended to pay generously also, so it took a total of three seconds to decide you were in.

He arched an eyebrow at you. “Back door locked?”

“No, I just didn’t want to walk through the house.”

“Right.” He gave you a once over before turning down to his phone. “Do I even want to know?”

That would officially mark the most words he’d ever said to you in one conversation. Laurie loved you, Jacob claimed that he was never, ever going to allow another babysitter to step inside his house, but Andy hardly even looked at you. That wasn’t uncommon. Most of the dads didn’t care, but those were the families that you didn’t stick with for too long.

“Football,” you explained.

He gave you a surprised look.

“But don’t get your hopes up or anything. Jacob sucks.”

He scoffed.

“Can you grab my bag? It’s just right by the door.”

“Heading home?”

“I should. My parents hate when I work this late, they’ve probably been texting me for the past two hours now.”

“Yeah, one sec.”

He didn’t close the door after him so you could hear Jacob excitedly screaming about his father being home. Andy was a great dad and Jacob idolized him just as much as he idolized Laurie. It was a beautiful family dynamic that sometimes still baffled you. Your family looked much different.

He returned with your bag.

“Thanks.” You took it and turned.

“Y/N!”

You looked back as Laurie was rushing out.

“Oh, don’t walk home, dear. Andy will drive you.”

The look on his face told you that he had not offered and that she hadn’t even run it by him before that moment.

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” you attempted to decline. “Honestly.”

“It’s late and cold.”

“I don’t want to get mud all over the car.” It was an expensive fucking car.

“Nonsense, it’s just a car,” Laurie insisted. “Besides, I paint the house a lot. I’m sure we have a few tarps still. Andy, will you go get one?”

He didn’t need further prompt to disappear inside. Laurie apologized for being late, you told her not to worry about it—more time with Jacob was never a bad thing. She thanked you for everything you did for them and you shyly accepted. She asked about your parents then, and before you had to give an elaborate answer, Andy was back with the tarp.

The drive was awkward.

It had started silent and you tried to hide away in your phone, but apparently, no one felt like texting you in that moment. Prior, your friends had been trying to talk to you nonstop, but wasn’t life just funny like that?

You felt like an idiot just staring out the window. This wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen around a thousand times before; he wasn’t even driving a different way. It looked like you were trying to avoid him and this insane, aggressive part of you just hated to appear weak or caught off guard.

Maybe it was your fault then. You were the one who spoke first and after that, things were just different. “How was work?”

It took him a moment to come up with a reply, and what a reply it was. “Fine. I guess.”

“Cool…” you sighed, clicked your tongue a couple of times, then glanced at him. He was staring forward, eyebrows pulled together, confused. Sure, he’d never taken much of an interest in you, and up to that point, as far as he knew, you’d never taken an interest in him. “What kind of lawyer are you?”

“What kind?”

“Like…a wife kills her husband for all of his money. Where are you in the courtroom?”

He chuckled. “I’m a public defender. I don’t normally get cases like that, unless my boss is trying to get on the good side of some irritating, rich people.”

You hummed. “You like it?”

“I do.”

“Cool.”

“Why all the questions? You want to be a lawyer?”

You snorted. “I was just curious. I don’t really hear you talk about work.”

He didn’t say anything else and you felt shot down in a sense. Most fathers were easy to talk to. They loved to hear their own voice and they loved how you pretended to like to hear every word. Obviously, Andy wasn’t in that group. At least a few of your friends had responded to your texts so it wasn’t terribly awkward. He said goodnight when you climbed out of the car, you said it back and closed the door.

You thought that was that.

After that, any time you babysat, he would drive you home. Laurie didn’t even have to say anything, it was just expected that he would do it. He was the one who spoke on the second drive because you weren’t going to try again. It was just stupid stuff. How you were doing with school. How your family was. How your friends were. How your boyfriend was. Because you had a boyfriend, right? He had asked but you knew that he knew you did, Laurie asked about him a lot. Andy never seemed to be paying attention.

That was how it was for almost a month. Then something just changed. The conversations became something else. He asked you where you wanted to go, you weren’t sure you wanted to leave Massachusetts, but you knew you wanted to put some miles between you and your family. He asked you about the future, where you saw yourself. He told you a little about himself, only what he had wanted his life to look like when he was your age.

He had believed he was going to be a high school history teacher.

It wasn’t weird. You didn’t talk to any of the other fathers like this, but it didn’t feel like something you shouldn’t be doing. He just liked talking to you and he actually wanted to hear what you had to say, what you thought about things.

It was innocent. Even when he started coming home early just to make sure he could drive you home. Even when you started taking your jacket off in the car or crossing your legs and pretending you didn’t notice that your skirt was riding up. Even when he looked at you and you acted like you didn’t see it. Even when you would end up sitting in his car, parked down the street from your house, just talking because he knew you didn’t want to go inside.

Perfectly innocent. For almost six months.

You were walking home from school when you got a text from Jacob. He couldn’t find his science project that you had helped him work on. You could have just told him where it was, but then you wouldn’t get the chance to stop by the Barber house. You showed up and Laurie happily invited you in. It was in the garage, something you pretended to remember after about an hour. Jacob had a play date so when his friend’s parents picked him up, Laurie asked you to stay for coffee.

You did. You wanted to extend your time there because even if he didn’t come home soon, Laurie would tell him you had been there. She would mention you and he would be thinking about you. Which is all you ever really wanted.

But sometimes your plans didn’t really work out. You had been turning down jobs, better-paying jobs, jobs you’d had far longer than the Barbers. They had been friends of your parents, it was how you met them, so typically, word got back to your mother. She felt you were the most irresponsible person in the world and didn’t fail to remind you of those feelings when she sent you seven texts and ordered you to get home.

You didn’t want to deal with the chaos of making her angry by spending any more time trying to see Andy. It was a failed attempt at getting closer to him, and as you were walking down the street, you were almost thankful. What the hell were you doing? Why were you trying to get closer to him? Jacob’s father, Laurie’s husband, your boss. That was it. That was all he could be.

But then, much earlier than you’d ever seen him, he was driving by you. You smiled, waved, but kept going. He was the one who circled back and told you to get in. You didn’t need to be told twice. You wanted to talk anyway, you wanted to tell him what was going on with your mother.

He parked down the street again. It wasn’t dark like it usually was but there was no one around. Everyone was staying warm inside. The heaters were on and you had draped your jacket over your legs. It was freezing but leaving the car was the last thing you wanted to do.

He only spoke when you had finished venting. And it wasn’t in the direction you had thought it would go. “You’ve been turning down jobs?”

Shit. You just shrugged. “A few, I guess.”

“Why?”

“I’m busy.”

“You’ve been around the house a lot more lately,” he pointed out. “Is that how you’ve been so busy lately? With Jacob? With us?”

“I…I just don’t feel like babysitting for them anymore.”

“Because you just want to babysit for us.”

“I don’t know,” you finally said. “I don’t know why I’ve been turning them down.”

“I know.”

You lifted your eyebrows.

He placed his hand on your thigh with absolutely no hesitation.

You couldn’t explain how good his skin felt against yours. Like after running a mile and then finally catching your breath. Or waking up and seeing that you still have hours before your alarm clock goes off. Like when you’re walking down the streets during October and the houses are all decorated. Like when you’re starving and you finally eat something you’ve been craving.

“You want to see me.”

“I like seeing Jacob,” you muttered. You saw his hand move up before you felt it, your breath audibly caught and you shuddered. Pathetic. Weak. Desperate.

“You come over almost every day.”

You turned up to him, trying to keep your voice level. “You come home early every day.”

“I want to see you,” he assured. “Just like you want to see me…right?”

You nodded.

“Because you feel something for me.”

You wanted him, that was the best way to describe it. So fucking bad, so bad you couldn’t think straight sometimes. So bad that when your boyfriend touched you, you nearly got physically sick sometimes. So bad that in your bed, at night, with your hand between your legs, you pictured Andy and no one else.

“And you feel something for me,” you countered.

“I do.”

Before you could respond, his phone was ringing. Laurie, oh god. He saw the look on your face but clearly had no interest in letting those logical emotions—shame, guilt, disgust—grow. “Give me your phone.”

You weren’t sure why you did so. He handed it back to you with a new contact. Under the name: Daddy. You closed your thighs, rubbing them together, catching his fingers where they were still laid over your leg. You were so wet, desperate for some friction.

“You’re going to go inside,” he started. “You’re going to go to your bedroom, strip down, get in front of your mirror, and fuck your fingers. You’re going to watch the whole time. Then, when you can’t take another orgasm, you’re going to send me a picture.”

“Of what?”

“Whatever you want.”

Your mind was reeling. You had never sent naked pictures before, but that was because you knew what would happen if you did. They would get shown to everyone. Andy couldn’t show anyone. Andy wouldn’t show everyone even if he could.

“Okay.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

You swallowed thickly. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Give me your panties,” he ordered. “I want to take them home.”

You wondered if he had done this before, if he did it often maybe. But did it matter? At the end of the day, that wasn’t going to make either of you any less terrible than you were being.

But there was just one problem with his request. “I’m not wearing any.”

His eyes dropped down. “You aren’t wearing panties?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“I…I don’t know.”

“I think you do. Now, you didn’t plan on fucking me tonight. That’s too much too soon. But I am the reason…it wasn’t because you thought my fingers would end up buried in your pussy, not yet… Daddy wants an answer, baby girl.”

Baby girl. Oh, fuck. Instead of speaking again, you spread your thighs and brought your own hand up your skirt. You were soaking, something he could hear when you pressed your fingers down. Which was why you had decided to skip underwear. Any time he was around, in a suit, you were wet.

His hold tightened on your thigh and you let out this small whimper. It was almost deafening in that car.

You pulled your hand back and brought your drenched fingers up to the steering wheel. You just wanted to leave something for him without risking anyone seeing you both in a weird situation.

He leaned forward almost instantly, inhaling as his eyes shut. “Fuck, you smell exactly like I thought you would.” His tongue dipped out just slightly and he licked the slick off the steering wheel, groaning gently. “And you fucking taste…”

Your phone buzzed and you both startled. “Shit.”

Andy sat up, clearing his throat. “Go. Do what I said.”

You went to reach for the door, but he cleared his throat. Oh, god. After what you just did, could you even pretend that you hadn’t surrendered completely? “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

After that, it was all kind of just a blur. You quit babysitting, which was very hard. You really did love Jacob and you were sad for a very long time every moment you remembered that you weren’t going over there to see him. You were never going to that house again, at least that was what you had told yourself.

That meant you didn’t see Andy quite as often, which was probably for the best. But he saw you. Often. Very naked. You sent him nearly hundreds of pictures a month, dozens almost every night. He was never too busy for you and maybe you liked that, maybe that was what made you feel so special. Maybe it was just him, the way he looked at you during those awkward exchanges when your mother dragged you to the grocery store with her and you ran into them. Maybe it was when he would call you even though he was at the office once you got home because he wanted to hear you orgasm. Maybe it was after your boyfriend would drop you off at home—and Andy always knew because you told him, you weren’t going to lie, you had no reason to—and he would ask you if he touched you, if he made you come.

He was your age. Andy was much older. More experienced. He never failed to remind you that that meant he could make you feel so much better. You weren’t sure what you were doing, why you didn’t just break up with him. Security, probably. If Andy ever decided to end this. Whatever it was. At least you wouldn’t be alone.

When Laurie wanted something, she got it. It wasn’t because she was aggressive or just didn’t take no for answer. It was because she was such a good person, how could anyone feel okay disappointing her? You certainly couldn’t.

When she insisted that you come over for dinner, you knew it was wrong. You knew she would rightfully hate you if she knew what you were doing with her husband. You knew she would feel hurt by the both of you, betrayed, outraged, disgusted. But you went anyway, and it wasn’t to flirt with Andy. Sure, you had done that once or twice in the past, but not this time. This time was for Laurie because she missed you. You had quit so suddenly and then it was like you didn’t exist to her at all. You owed her this dinner.

The look on his face when he saw you in the living room told you that he hadn’t been told about this. He looked terrified, worried.

“Look who I ran into this morning!” Laurie called out from the kitchen. She was over the stove stirring some pasta and you were at the table looking at all of Jacob’s drawings he had done in the past few months since you’d last seen him.

You gave him a look. He should know better than anyone why this was something you couldn’t just get out of. He couldn’t be mad at you. And he better not be accusing you of playing with Laurie like this.

He nodded once, just slightly. “Y/N.”

“Mr. Barber,” you returned.

Then nothing, he went upstairs and you returned your undivided attention to Jacob. Around a half-hour later, Laurie had to go upstairs and drag him downstairs, both trying and failing to hide their irritation.

She asked you about the usual after you had all settled in a bit. School was always the start. Laurie told you that school was the most important thing in the world. She had graduated but with a degree that she didn’t utilize. She loved her life, but she had her regrets and she didn’t want you to make the same mistakes.

She moved to family next. You always kept the answers light around Jacob, knowing that Laurie could read between the lines anyway. Your mother joined two different book clubs. Laurie knew that meant she was just trying to avoid your father.

Then your boyfriend. Another thing she wanted you to be careful about. She wasn’t expecting to get pregnant with Jacob when she had. She loved both Andy and Jacob, but she would have loved to hold off for a few years. She told you to take care of yourself first. Take care of your dreams, your future, your body, your identity before you worried about anyone else. Be selfish, be ambitious. She was like a mom; one you never even knew existed outside of television. You often wished she weren’t so nice to you. You knew you didn’t deserve it.

She just wanted to know how he was. How long had you guys been together, again? Right, that was quite a long time, she claimed. Where was he working? The same place still? You felt Andy’s eyes on you the entire time. He hadn’t looked at you for the whole dinner until Laurie mentioned your boyfriend.

Did you know about his politics? She promised it was better to know before it was too late. She knew his parents, knew that they were rather conservative. Everyone there was, though. The chances of finding a perfect man? Well, Andy was already taken.

Had you guys spoken about the future? Not really, not cohesively, but that wasn’t the answer you gave. You knew what he wanted and he pretended that he didn’t know what you wanted, pretended that one day you would just wake up and see it all his way. What does he want to do?

You were thinking about Andy. His hands, his mouth, his beard. You thought about making him mad, jealous. You thought about how he would be short over text and make you send him pictures and videos until he was less angry, then he would call and his voice would be so deep, he would growl orders at you. Fuck. “Yeah…he wants a huge family.”

“Oh.” Laurie nodded, clearly it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. “Well…what do you want?”

“I don’t know.” That wasn’t necessarily a lie, but Andy would give you hell for it later. He told you that was one of the sexiest things about you. That you knew what you wanted. Basically, he just meant it was sexy that you were selfish enough to be getting involved with him.

“Well, just make sure you know before you make any choices that can’t be undone.”

If only someone had given Andy this lecture all the way back. You wondered how things would be if he wasn’t married, if he had never met Laurie, but If he was still here. You wondered what relationship you would have with him.

“You want to stay in Massachusetts?”

You shrugged. Andy wouldn’t let you come later, until you promised you were going to stay. You just had this deep, sinking feeling he wasn’t going to be kind about it either. Good. It had been so long since he was rough with you. Even over text, he was dominant and in total control. He owned you but you were worried he was getting comfortable with that, you worried that he was under the impression that he could be less possessive. Hell no. You were his, undeniably, but only so long as he was going to claim you as his.

“Well, you’re young…the possibilities are endless.”

“Well, I hope you guys break up,” Jacob bluntly stated.

You and Laurie both turned to him with wide-eyed looks. Andy was stunned for a moment, then had to hide his smile by sipping at his beer.

“Jacob,” Laurie scolded. “Don’t say things like that. That was very mean.”

“Well,” he huffed, ‘if she has more time, she can come back to babysit me.”

You scoffed.

He turned to you. “Is it because of him?”

“No, I promise. I’m just…busy.”

“Busy?” He rolled his eyes. “Adults are always “busy”.”

“You know, I think it’s time I put him to sleep,” Laurie scoffed.

“No,” Jacob whined. “I never get to see her anymore!”

Laurie sighed. “Jacob—”

“I’m not going to bed until you promise to come back,” he declared.

“Jacob,” you pleaded.

He crossed his arms over his chest, brow furrowed. “I’ll stay awake forever if I have to.” Then he set his jaw and turned forward. He had never looked more like Andy, where usually, he looked eerily like Laurie.

You really did miss him. Not that you would ever tell Andy, but a part of you did resent him for the fact that you had to quit. It wasn’t all on him, but if he had never let this start, things would still be the same.

Laurie looked completely exasperated and it wasn’t like you didn’t have enough guilt where she was concerned. “Okay, Jacob, if you go to bed, I will try to come back for the summer. You know, I won’t be so busy.” You glanced at Laurie who appeared just as hopeful. “You know, maybe at least a couple of days while you guys are at work.”

“Well, I was going to do this later because I didn’t want you to feel like this was the only reason that I asked you here. We miss you and I just wanted to see you, but…” she glanced at Andy. “I just found out that I’m going to be taking a work trip this summer.”

“Work trip?” you inquired. You weren’t aware that her job would ever require traveling.

“Yeah, just this conference, kind of, for people who work with children. This is the first time we have been invited to it, so it’s really important but I’m just not okay leaving Andy and Jacob alone. Andy’s job…”

“I told you, I could take the summer off,” Andy assured.

Laurie gave him a look. Yeah, that was highly unlikely. Andy wouldn’t know what to do with himself after probably the first three weeks. She faced you. “I don’t want to put any pressure on you. If you can’t come back, we understand. The Rifkins were telling us about your friend, the one who also babysits. Her name is Lily…something?”

Your eyes instinctively went to Andy. He was giving you a knowing look. All your friends would fuck him in a heartbeat. You shouldn’t have cared. If he fucked anyone, you should have had the plan to just walk away. You doubted your ability to do that, unfortunately. And you couldn’t stand the thought of him touching her. Anyone but her.

“I’ll think about it,” you promised Jacob.

He smiled widely. “Okay, I’ll go to bed now. I’m exhausted.”

You smiled.

Laurie took Jacob upstairs after saying goodnight to you. That left you alone with Andy for what you both knew would be just enough time for anything, but you had your limits. Not in the house. Not while Laurie and Jacob were here. You decided it was time to call it a night and he decided he was going to walk you to your car. It was dark after all.

You just rolled your eyes and marched out the front door. You tried to stay in front of him so you could get inside your car first, so he couldn’t grab you or talk to you. You just needed to get out of there, anything that needed to be said would have to wait for that night when he texted you.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get my kid’s hopes up.”

That was how he wanted to start? You looked back at him; eyebrows lifted. “You mean yours.”

“Jacob misses you—”

“And you?”

He sighed at you. “What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing, just don’t try to use Jacob against me. I will think about it…there are just things…that could go wrong.”

“Like what?”

“You know what, Andy—”

His eyebrows shot up. “What did you call me?”

You crossed your arms, silently staring up at him. Your back faced the driver’s side door, the handle perfectly in your reach if you needed it.

“Baby,” he warned. “Don’t start acting up right now just because you know I can’t do anything about it.”

“I’m not acting up—”

“Then what did you just call me?”

“Nothing,” you muttered. “I’m sorry, I meant to call you daddy.”

He moved closer then, either hand on the car door behind you.

Your eyes widened in sheer panic and you immediately looked around. It was too dark to see anything, and this was Andy Barber. He was a trusted and well-respected man. No one would think anything even if they did walk out and saw this with their own eyes. He was a damn good lawyer and could convince anyone of anything.

It had been months since you spent so much time with him, but even still, the closest the two of you had ever been was in the car. There was an invisible line that neither of you crossed because you never wanted to get caught. It was always so light out, your creepy neighbors would just sit on the porch from sunrise to sunset because they were desperate for anything.

This was different. There was no one around. There was nothing to stop either of you from taking this further than you ever had. This was the extent of your relationship. Stealing moments. Secrets. But he had never touched you, he’d never kissed you. It was all you could think about in that moment.

“What was all of that?” he asked.

“What?”

“All that bullshit? You lied to Laurie.”

You scoffed. “No, actually, I didn’t.”

“Really? That’s what you want to fucking do with your life? Just be some god damn trophy for that boyfriend of yours?”

You shrugged. “I would love to be a trophy.”

He glared. “You’re smart, okay? And you’re interesting—”

“So, instead of being a trophy, I should be a spectacle? I should entertain people—”

“That is not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“That I’m fucking angry.”

“About what?!”

“Him!”

Well, mission accomplished. It wasn’t that you were surprised he felt that way, you just weren’t expecting to hear him say it.

He sighed, turning up. He was probably watching the window to make sure Laurie hadn’t heard anything.

“What are you even angry about?”

“I work with his fucking father.”

“And?” you demanded.

He looked down at you after several seconds of staring at the window. “He always fucking talks about you. He thinks you’re going to marry his son.”

You shrugged. “Maybe I will.”

“Don’t.”

“Why not?” you pressed. “Maybe I fucking will, Andy.”

“He’s an asshole. You tell me all the time. And if you think I’m going to let you—”

“Let me?” you scoffed. “You’re married. You can’t do shit.”

The look he gave you told you that was the last thing you should have said. He grabbed your shoulders and turned you away from him, pushing you into the car door.

“Andy—”

You were in a tiny pair of shorts, despite how freezing it was that night. That must have been what gave him the idea to smack you, more so your thigh than your ass, but it hurt, nonetheless. You slammed your hands over your mouth to stifle your yelp.

There were times when you thought you were going to die if he didn’t touch you. Obviously, you were always wrong, but you didn’t care. Sometimes, when you would plead to whatever or whoever it was up there, that you just needed him to touch you, just a touch, you would claim you didn’t care how. This worked. Even though it really fucking hurt and the cold air was still stinging your skin, this was what you wanted.

“You know what you need to be calling me, honey.” His hand was at the button of your denim shorts and you panicked.

You tried to catch his wrist, but he was much stronger than you. Before you said a word, he had yanked them open, the zipper too. But no, not now, not here. “Daddy, stop—”

“You still think I can’t do anything?”

“Please, not here—”

His fingers pressed against your stomach and traveled down. You instantly lost your ability to speak or think. When he reached the band of your underwear, he scoffed. “Wearing panties? Why?”

What kind of question was that?

“You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?” he cooed. “Such a sweet girl.”

“Daddy,” you whispered.

“Daddy will stop,” he promised. “But only if you want him to. Do you want daddy to stop?”

“Please.” Yes, please. But also, maybe please, don’t. Please, keep going. Please, touch me more because you never have. Please, touch me where we both want you to so bad.

“Okay, but first, I’m going to check if you’re wet. If you aren’t, fine. If you are, well, you know you’re not supposed to lie to me.”

“I’m not lying,” you promised. “But—”

“Shh, baby.” He pressed his fingers down and you felt like you were dying. Honestly, like your life was on the verge of ending because nothing had ever felt so good and nothing should feel so good.

He didn’t go inside your underwear, of course not. He was always teasing you. Instead, he moved down until he felt the material was damp and made a soft, disapproving sound.

“I wasn’t lying,” you insisted, trying not to move too much. If he thought you were enjoying this too much, he might decide to get cruel.

“So, you want daddy to stop right now?”

You wanted to say yes, you wished you could make yourself. However, you stayed silent because you knew he would stop, you knew he would completely withdraw from you until you were begging him. Mostly, you couldn’t force yourself to want him to stop touching you no matter how wrong you knew it was.

“You know, baby girl, daddy wants something from you.”

You almost promised him anything he wanted but thankfully, forming coherent words was still something beyond you.

“Daddy wants you to come back this summer.”

No. That wasn’t going to happen. You knew now that it couldn’t happen. You knew now that if you were ever in a room with Andy, that both of you would get as close as you possibly could, that you would try to touch in any way that wouldn’t raise concern. And if no one was home? If Jacob was upstairs and you and Andy were downstairs? No, you wouldn’t do that to Laurie. Not in her house.

“I can’t.”

“Yes, you can.”

You shook your head. “You know I can’t.”

“All I know is that I don’t like it when you tell me no.”

Which is something he wouldn’t actually know because you had never told him no. This was different. This was about hurting someone who had only ever been good to you. And Jacob—god, Jacob. If you were caught, Laurie would leave Andy and that was the last thing you wanted for Jacob.

“I’m saying no,” you insisted, but your voice was hardly more than a mutter.

He said nothing for several terribly long seconds, then pulled aside your panties and finally touched your pussy.

Your eyes fell shut and you pressed your forehead against the car window. His fingers moved higher until he circled them around your clit and you shuddered. Even biting your lip couldn’t completely muffle the sounds you were making.

He shushed you, a completely patronizing gesture as he was the reason you were being so loud.

“Daddy,” you gasped. “Daddy, please.”

“You want to come on daddy’s fingers?”

You nodded fast. “So bad, daddy.”

“Mm. Well, daddy wants you back, princess.”

“Daddy,” you whined. This couldn’t happen, not now. Where was his fear? Anyone could walk out. Laurie could just glance out the window and see everything.

“Daddy wants to see you back in the house every day. Playing on the floor in your tiny little skirts and your tiny little shirts that you never wear a bra with. Daddy wants to see you biting your lip and pressing your thighs together when you’re watching me, when you think I don’t notice.”

Fuck. You genuinely had thought you were being discreet. He was clearly discreet, however, because you had never noticed that he was watching so closely.

“But more than anything, I want to have you all to myself, baby girl.”

“I…would be babysitting,” you reminded.

“Jacob has a lot of friends. I’ll schedule him some play dates. Say yes.”

“No, daddy, please—”

“Say yes,” he ordered.

“I can’t.”

“I’m not going to let you come until you do.”

The noise you made was a cross between a cry and a whimper, something truly pathetic. He had you scared and he knew it, so he thrust two fingers inside you and when your mouth opened to scream, he wrapped his opposite hand around your neck.

You swore you would come just like that if he didn’t stop. You had dreamt about his hands around your throat. You would try choking yourself when you were making videos for him, but you knew it wasn’t like the real thing. When he would call you, you would always beg choke me, daddy.

His fingers were thick enough to stretch you even though you were dripping. Your mind wandered to his cock. You could feel it against your ass, and even through his pants, you could tell he was big. But it was little more than a theory. You’d never seen his cock because he didn’t send you pictures. Most of your relationship with Andy had been set around your imagination.

He kept you quiet with his hold around your neck, but his fingers fucked into you so hard that the wet sounds echoed down the empty street. If anyone found the two of you, you would be completely humiliated by how evidently desperate you were.

“Daddy,” you gasped when you felt yourself just right there, so close to that edge. Maybe you were biased in the moment in thinking that this was going to be the best orgasm you had ever had. You had toys, Andy had made sure of that, and some of them did the trick. But it was never like this. Close, at times, but only ever when you were making videos for him or talking to him on the phone. It was all Andy, he hadn’t been exaggerating when he was telling you no one else could make you feel so good.

“You close, princess?”

You hummed a confirmation and just like that, he pulled his hand away altogether. The one around your neck was keeping you quiet but your pussy was completely neglected. It was absolutely devastating.

Stupidly, you’d forgotten his grand plan of forcing you to say yes. You weren’t going to, this was so much bigger than this stupid affair. You could live with yourself knowing you were a whore, you could live knowing you were a homewrecker so long as no one else knew, but you could not and would not even attempt to be okay with sheer stupidity. And stupidity was playing this game. You didn’t understand why he wanted to either.

“How do you feel now?”

“No,” you snapped.

“Watch the tone,” he warned.

“God,” you huffed tiredly. “I can’t. No, I’m saying no.”

He simply hummed and with no warning, buried his fingers inside you once more. “Then I guess we’re going to be here for quite a while.”

A whine caught in your throat and you practically choked trying to talk to him. “Daddy, we’re going to get caught.”

“Then say yes. You think you can have an attitude and mouth off and I’m just going to let it go because we might get caught?”

Well, honestly, yes, you had expected that. This was bad and you knew you were fucked up because that was making it feel better. He was pressed against you, hiding you from any eyes that may look outside because he was insanely possessive and didn’t want anyone else seeing you naked. He was holding you so tight that it actually hurt and he was barely letting you breathe, you were getting dizzy and lightheaded and you just needed to come.

He did this to you so many times that you lost track. The only thing you did know was that it wasn’t taking long even though it felt like it. It was Tuesday night and you had been here enough at this time to know that this was a busy night for these rich people. You’d walked out of the house at 7:46. The bathroom light was still on and would be for another 30 minutes at least, because Jacob was a menace when he wanted to be—but never with you. Mrs. Johnson always came home from her cooking club at 8:20 to 8:30. Mr. Garcia would always come out at around 8:15 to leave his trash or recycling, depending on the night of the week. Sometimes, Mrs. Wilson’s grandchildren would stop by for late visits. They were all doctors and lawyers, at least, that was the reason they gave for never coming at a reasonable hour, but they actually just wanted money and knew she would be too tired to say no. Mrs. Taylor’s twin demons you once had the displeasure of devoting your Monday and Friday nights to had to go out every night at 8:30 until 10:00 because of some stupid project they were doing on stars.

Andy had to know all of this also, so you understood that he was just trying to call your bluff.

Well, fuck, it was going to work. You were terrified. There were so many variables, anyone could show up early. Or hell, there had to be some people here with drinking addictions, an affliction for pills, a house fire could start. Or a revealed affair could lead to a staged murder that looked like something else. Andy being so calm was almost worrisome.

But you were more worried about Laurie. Apparently, you weren’t like him. You couldn’t just shut off your guilt surrounding her. You knew you had to try one more time to get out of this. Andy was pretending right now to be so hard, but he was more than soft for you. He spoiled the hell out of you and let you be very bratty even though he put on a whole show that he couldn’t stand it. But you knew that when you gave him a look, when you softened your voice just enough, when you said the right things, that man would give you the world if he could.

In your littlest, whiny voice, you begged him. “Daddy, please.”

He froze for a moment, letting his hand fall away only to take your shoulders and turn you back to him. He was looking at you curiously, also a tad suspiciously.

You simply stared at him with pleading eyes. He couldn’t honestly think this was a good idea. “We can’t do this. Not around Jacob. Not in the house.”

Realization showed on his face and he scoffed. “Oh, baby, you really are the sweetest thing.” He leaned in to press you flat to the car door once more and brought his hand up, slipping his fingers into your mouth. His eyes were on yours the entire time, as you sucked and licked, and then as he started shoving them down your throat. You gagged, tears were running down your cheeks, and you had started rolling your hips, grinding against the bulge in his pants.

“You are the most beautiful little girl in the world, you know that?”

You hummed, thankful that you didn’t actually have to put an answer to that. He never stopped telling you that you were beautiful, that he’d never see someone else like you, but when you really had to think about it, you were just the average insecure person.

“You’re my little girl, yeah?” He pulled his fingers from your mouth, touching your swollen lips. “Tell me.”

“I’m your little girl.”

“Do you know how badly daddy wants to eat your pussy?”

It took you a moment, but when you realized that he wanted an answer, you shook your head. He didn’t talk about it much. He just liked to listen to you, he liked to tell you that he just wanted to be inside you, that he couldn’t wait to feel you around him.

“Mm…I do. I want to lick you for hours until your begging me to stop. I want you to come in my mouth. I want you to grind your pussy all over my face. You have to know how badly daddy wants you on his cock, though?”

“Yes.”

“Say you’ll come back, gorgeous. Of course, Jacob can never know, this isn’t a game. I just miss seeing you. I miss smelling your perfume and hearing you laugh. I miss having you so close.”

“I miss you, too,” you promised. But. There was still a but, even if you didn’t come right out and say it.

You felt his hands moving against your stomach and then you heard the zipper of his pants. Oh, god. He took your hand and slipped it down his boxers, you both shuddered as your skin touched his.

His eyes fell shut and he took a deep breath in. He tightened his hand around yours and began slowly jerking your hand up and down his cock. “What do you think, baby girl?”

“You’re really big, daddy.” And so fucking thick, you were going crazy just picturing yourself trying to ride him. He was much bigger than your boyfriend, much bigger than anyone else you’d ever fucked.

“Imagine my cock inside your beautiful little cunt. I bet it’ll hurt so much that you cry. And I am going to pound that pussy until you are so stretched and used that your boyfriend won’t be able to make you come at all.”

You wanted nothing more, but you also wanted to have a little bit of fun. “I said you were big…but I didn’t say you were bigger than him.”

He pulled his hand and yours out of his pants and the next second, he was on you. His hand was around your neck, his other holding your jaw, and his face just inches away from yours. “You fucking little brat. You’re lucky I don’t make you get on your knees and choke you on my cock.”

“Kiss me, daddy.”

And just like that, he was no longer upset with you. It was hilarious how easily you could push this man into anything you wanted. And he didn’t even care, he just wanted to give you everything you could think to ask for.

He sighed, glancing around. “I can’t do that, baby, not here.”

Then where? That was when you finally understood. He wanted you back so badly, because where else would you be able to do this? He could get a hotel room but if anyone ever saw you, there would be no defense. It would be apparent what you guys were doing. Your house? Your parents were always around. That only left his house and if Laurie was going to be gone…maybe you didn’t see much harm in that.

“Say yes,” he whispered.

You should have never turned around to look at him. He had won, there was no way you could deny him anymore. You nodded. “Yes, daddy.”

He smiled and your heart stuttered. He was the most beautiful man in the world. “I’ll let Laurie know...I’ll tell her this was why I was out here so long. And you, angel, need to go straight home, shove a toy in that pussy, and make some videos for daddy.”

It was weeks later than Andy told you he had a surprise for you. A few months had gone by. You hadn’t returned to the Barber home since the dinner and you kept your usual contact with Andy. Just more sending pictures and videos and texting every second it was possible.

He was still thrilled that you were going back for the summer and regularly checked in just to make sure that you didn’t change your mind about it. You still had a few months and he was constantly worried you would feel a sudden burst of guilt. It wasn’t too farfetched, actually.

When you got home, your mother informed you that you had received a package. She claimed it didn’t say who it was from. You knew what that meant. You had checked your phone that morning and saw a text informing you to expect something.

You texted Andy, I got it, then you went to your drawers to pick out something skimpy and lacy.

Good. Take off all your clothes.

Odd, he usually wanted you wearing something. You did as was asked of you and let him know when you were ready for more instruction.

Go to your bathroom with the box.

Once more, you let him know when you’d complied with his orders.

Open the box.

Inside was another smaller box, a picture clearly displaying the product. He bought you a dildo, a rather large one. You didn’t normally get toys this size, they were harder to film with.

Before you could respond, he texted again. Get it out of the box and clean it really well, then stick it to the floor.

Again, you followed his directions. Once it was set up and immovable, you let him know.

Get your laptop, we’re going to Skype.

That left you naked in front of your laptop that was a few feet away. He had you sitting with your legs bent and spread wide so he could see your pussy.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, that was the first thing you noticed. The second was his background, you didn’t recognize it.

“Where are you, daddy?”

“Home. My office. Laurie’s sister is in town so they both went out to see her. Focus, baby. I’m going to send you some videos that I want you to watch.”

“Videos?” You had a feeling you already knew what he meant. And mere seconds later, got confirmation through the email link he sent to you. Porn. Not surprising and you weren’t really opposed.

The videos he sent you were all starred older men, many roleplaying as the stepfather, and younger women playing the innocent, naïve daughter. Older than you mostly, but still significantly younger than the men they were fucking. The videos started tame, small, just cheesy scenarios and rough sex following. But as he sent you more, the men became more dominant. They would choke, pull hair, spank, call her degrading names. You didn’t hate any of it.

He wouldn’t let you touch yourself and he didn’t touch himself. He just watched you the entire time, sometimes talking and asking you questions, but he mainly just wanted you focusing on this. He made you keep your legs open so he could make sure you weren’t being sneaky, which was slightly humiliating. You felt that voicing that, however, would be considered talking back.

It was nearly an hour later that he requested you show him how wet you were. Your fingers frantically ran through your cunt and you held them out toward the camera. He told you to pause the video and get on the dildo. You gracelessly rolled onto your knees, your legs just a little tired from the uncomfortable position he’d directed you to hold for so long. You climbed over the toy, one hand holding it as you straddled it.

“Just take it slow, baby girl.”

You carefully spread your knees further, bringing your pussy closer to the head of the fake cock. You heard him shifting as soon as if touched your skin. You weren’t as nervous as you should have been, you figured you were wet enough to take it all. That insatiable longing to be filled and ruthlessly fucked by him clouded your mind.

As soon as it was inside you by what probably wasn’t even an inch, you froze. Yes, bigger than anything you’d ever taken. It stung a little, yet you didn’t want to pull off completely. You kind of liked the pain anyway.

“Keep going.”

“It hurts.”

“Just try for me, angel.”

You set your hands to the floor, once again spreading your legs wider. The ache didn’t dull as you kept going. “Daddy, I think it’s too big.”

“I’m bigger, that’s why I want you to get used to it.”

Bigger? Even though you were struggling to handle this, you wanted him instead of the toy. You wanted him on top, forcing you to take his cock, cooing to you and kissing your face the whole time. This was a flawed plan that he came up with because you were going to need some major convincing to get any further on this thing.

“Take a minute,” he decided, and you needed no further prompt to pull off.

You hissed lightly, looking at it. You had barely made it down the head. So, this was going to be one of those long calls.

“Use your mouth,” he instructed.

That you could do. You leaned over it, immediately dropping down until it hit the back of your throat. Your eyes flickered up to the screen where you saw his arm moving so slowly, back and forth. You would ask later if you could see him, when you didn’t have something in your mouth.

“Baby doll, you are fucking beautiful.”

You hummed, pulling back and then sliding back down.

“Gag on it. I want to hear you choking.”

You prepped your throat by bobbing up and down, taking it a little further each time. It wasn’t until your nose was hovering just above the floor that you gagged loudly. You backed off hurriedly but did it once more, a second time, a third, a fourth, until he told you to stop.

“Stay there, sweetheart, keep it down your throat. Try swallowing around it. I want you to get used to that, too. That’s how I love having my cock sucked.”

You obeyed, attempting to swallow around the thick piece of silicone. Those tries were followed by a lot of short coughs, gagging noises, and your body moving almost violently every time you got just a little too ahead of yourself. You were suddenly very thankful that you’d woken up late, since you’d stayed up until almost 5 in the morning talking to him, and hadn’t had time to eat anything.

“You think you can do it now?”

You hummed and hoped he wouldn’t press for more. You weren’t sure. You were nervous to try but it wasn’t like he was going to let you off that easy.

“Okay, try again.”

Positioning yourself over it, you realized you were much wetter now. Getting the head inside was easy enough but just as soon, it started to hurt again.

“You okay, princess?”

“Yeah.” You turned your attention down and tried to force yourself to relax. You were nervous, double that now because you didn’t want to fail in front of Andy. You wanted to show him that you knew what you were doing and that when he finally fucked you, it was going to be perfect. You didn’t want him to think of you as some inexperienced little girl.

“Remember, take it easy. Don’t hurt yourself.”

You never thought you would have an issue with him babying you. “I wish this was your cock, daddy.”

He hummed as if it was a question but was much more focused on your comfort than your attempts to distract him.

“Mhm,” you returned. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me. I can’t wait to be filled up and dripping with your cum.”

“I’ll cover you in my cum, sweetheart. You wanna try taking a little more?”

You hadn’t moved and it was still aching, but your mind was getting hazy. You were thinking about Andy and how good he was going to fuck you. You wanted it so hard and so fast that you didn’t think the dildo would even suffice. You lowered a tad too fast, earning a disapproving sound from him.

And yes, it hurt, but admitting any type of defeat was beyond out of the question. “Fuck, daddy, it’s so big,” you sighed. You didn’t pull off, but you tried shifting your hips to get a little more comfortable.

“Fuck yourself with it.”

You used your arms for balance and began pulling back carefully before dropping back down. You did this several more times until it was no longer uncomfortably painful. “Daddy?”

“Yes, baby?”

You pushed yourself up, balancing on your knees as your hands came up to your breasts. “Can I see you?”

He arched an eyebrow at you. “You wanna see me?”

You nodded. “Please?”

He sat up, pushing the laptop back as he stood. You finally got to see that hard stomach you had been pressed against that night and it did not disappoint. You had no idea that he was going to look so strong and beautiful—and honestly, what the hell was he doing with you? You were confident enough and sometimes, some days when things were just going your way, you even loved how you looked. But Andy was inhumanly, unfairly breathtaking.

Then you saw his cock and you instantly whimpered. He was so big, bigger than the toy just as he’d claimed. You’d suspected he was exaggerating, most men did. He laid his cock out on the desk, tip leaking, skin angry and red.

“Daddy,” you whispered.

“What, honey?”

“I can’t wait for summer. I need you now.”

“Just be patient. You need to get a little more accustomed to the toy first because I’m not sure I’m going to be able to be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be gentle.”

“You want daddy to make it hurt?”

“Yes.”

“Touch your clit, princess. I want to see you come.”

Your hand snapped down to your cunt, mindlessly searching for, and at times successfully catching, that hypersensitive spot. As soon as you heard him grunting, jerking himself off to the sight of you, you knew you weren’t going to last long.

You watched his arm move, the way his muscles tensed, you noticed the veins. He wasn’t the kind of man to show off. His suits were always fitted and occasionally, he wore a short sleeve tee, but you were starting to realize he was rather modest. It was this secret that he finally told you, he was finally showing you parts of himself that you never would have known about had he not extended some type of trust to you.

You needed him to fuck you. You needed him wrapping his arms around you and holding you against his chest, hips thrusting into yours. You were bouncing on the dildo now, uncaring of how much it hurt, fingers still rubbing large, unskilled circles into your clit. You were high off him, completely entranced and focused on Andy. “Daddy…”

“You close?”

“Yes. Can I please come?”

“You can come, angel.” He stroked himself faster, opposite hand settling on the desk as he leaned over a little.

You took as much of the dildo as you could and stayed, just focusing on touching your clit. You whimpered and whined as you approached your finish, mewling ‘daddy’ at least a dozen times, and told him several times that you needed him inside you, and promised you would do anything for his cock. He was quiet even though he was still fucking his fist, wanting to hear every sound you were making for him.

You nearly collapsed when your orgasm hit. Thankfully, instead of down—because seriously, this was an obnoxiously large toy and there was still so much that wasn’t inside you yet—you fell forward and caught yourself with both hands. You continued to roll your hips, haphazardly moving your hair out of the way with one hand at a time so he could see your breasts move and just how far down you were getting. One feeling you never quite got rid of, no matter what you were doing, no matter how good whatever you were being fucked with was: his praise was even better than coming.

“Fuck, baby girl,” he blurted out. You heard one of his knees buckle, it hit the desk he was standing behind.

“Are you close, daddy?”

He hummed shortly.

“I wish I was there, daddy. I want to taste you so bad.”

And that was all he needed. With a slight groan, his cum streaked out onto the desk between him and his laptop. His hand slowed but didn’t fully stop until he was done coming. He fell back into his chair, chest rising and falling with his quick breaths.

“You want me to come over, daddy? I could help you clean your desk.”

He scoffed. “Come on, princess, don’t start being a tease.”

“I’m not,” you promised. “Really, I’ll come over if you want me to.”

He finally looked back at the screen, eyes moving over you as you pushed yourself back onto your knees. Though you still felt the toy was too big, it no longer hurt so you were counting this a success. If you continued to use it every day until you were working for him again, fucking him wouldn’t be so difficult. At least you hoped.

“You wanna come over? You’re not scared of getting caught anymore?”

You shrugged. Yes, you were still terrified but your pathetic desire to be touched by that man could make you do some pretty stupid things.

“Don’t be a brat,” he scoffed.

“Then you should come here. My parents won’t notice.”

“I’m not some uncontrollably horny teenage boy you can convince to sneak in through your window. Come on, you just gotta wait a little longer.”

You sighed. “But I want you.”

“I know, trust me, I want you…” His eyes lowered on the screen and he sighed. “I want to taste you, too. Especially after you just finished.”

You leaned forward to grab the edge of the laptop and pulled it closer. “Look, daddy, I took a lot.”

“You did, baby,” he agreed, voice still just a little light. You came down much faster than him. You had to stall and get him ready to go before he decided it was time to end the call. You wanted to see him. In person. And you were not opposed to playing dirty.

“Do you want me to try again? I can do more—”

“No, no, don’t worry about it, angel. You did good today, you need to rest before we do this again. Maybe take a day or two.”

A day or two? Fuck that. He couldn’t see your face, all he could actually see was the dildo still buried in your pussy. You looked down, finding your slick was dripping down the toy. This was going to be easy. You took your fingers and ran them up, collecting what had leaked out of you. You brought it up to your mouth and moaned lewdly—you had to be a little extra, just to make sure he knew.

“Sweetheart,” he warned.

“I wish you could taste me, too, daddy. I’m really good.”

“Come on,” he complained. “Stop it, right now.”

“I could get in my car right now, daddy. We could drive out to that dead-end street by the park. Just one quick, little taste and then I’ll come back home and get into bed and make some more videos for you.”

He said nothing, which you always knew actually meant that you were closer than he wanted to let on.

“Please, daddy? I just need something…summer is so far away.”

“Damn it,” he muttered, finally sitting up straight in the chair. “Damn it, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry, daddy but I really, really need you.” You started to pull your hips up and then slowly slid back down. “Can’t you hear how wet I still am?”

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Okay. Okay, fine.”

You shoved the laptop back, leaning down on your forearms. “Really?”

“But you’re going to keep that toy inside your pussy.”

“What?”

“Keep it right where it is. Get dressed. Drive to the dead-end street. Wait for me. Oh, bring a towel.”

“A towel?” You tried not to sound too excited, but you knew you’d failed. He wasn’t really planning on fucking you, was he? You wanted it, you would never say no to that man, but you hadn’t thought it would be so easy.

“You’ll need to bite down on something when I’m spanking you.”

Oh, fuck.

#andy barber x reader #always accepting andy requests just fyi #my writing

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crownshattered-moved · 2 years

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GENSHIN IMPACT VERSE INFO:

First off, keep in mind that I’ve built this verse around MY SISTERS�� TERRA, VENTUS, AND VANITAS. Things can be adjusted accordingly (like if you have a genshin verse for any of those muses lol).

Aqua is originally from Fontaine but left home at the age of eight and went to Inazuma. There, she studied under Master Eraqus with Terra until she was sixteen. She’s a catalyst user.

She got her vision, Hydro, one day when she saved her little brother from a pyro abyss mage. She took the water from the stream they were right next to and used it to extinguish the beast. However, she wanted to be able to use this power better now that she has it, so she went searching for a master. She heard that there was someone in Inazuma that could teach her, and she found him.

Ventus (10) joined the trio when Aqua was 13. I’ll give a BIT of info about the other characters related to her verse a little ways below.

When Aqua was 16, she and Terra were out adventuring (near an entrance to the Abyss….) when they were attacked by abyss mages. They both tried to fight them off, but in in end Terra was knocked unconscious. They tried to take Terra away and down to the Abyss, but Aqua jumped in after him. She used a water fountain spell to grab Terra and push him out, instead leaving her to plummet into the abyss in his stead.

Aqua stayed in the Abyss for 4 years (until the current time of the game) while all hell broke loose in Teyvat. Now, she’s 20 and escapes the Abyss through the gateway on Musk Reef, so now she’s in Mondstadt.

BACKGROUND INFO:

What happens: Terra doesn’t remember what happened to Aqua. He believes that she’s still in Inazuma, and he was trying to find her for those years….until the vision hunt decree was announced. His family fell apart when that decree was announced, as himself, Ven, and the Master had visions. They came to get Terra’s vision, but Eraqus defended him by saying that HE was the one with the vision, and he was killed instead. Meanwhile, Ventus was being chased by one of the members of the Kujou Clan, Kujou Vanitas.

In the end, Ventus escapes with Vanitas after turning him onto his side, while Terra joins the Tenryou Commission in an attempt to be able to find Aqua before someone else could find her and kill her for her vision. He has no idea that she’s not even in Teyvat.

CHARACTER INFO:

Terra info: Just kinda a normal dude! His master has a dendro vision and is kinda like his dad. He’s got Geo and a claymore and is now on the WRONG SIDE.

Ventus: THIS BOY DATES BACK TO THE MONDSTADT REVOLUTION. It was led by five people, the Bard, Amos, Gunnhildr, Diluc’s ancestor, and Ven. However, Ven was frozen by Decarabrian and stayed frozen for THOUSANDS of years until he was thawed out in Inazuma. He has an anemo vision and a spear. Doesn’t remember the Mondstadt Revolution. When he leaves with Vanitas, they go to Mondstadt.

Vanitas: He was born into this clan and was the one sent to deal with Ventus. He has a pyro vision and wears black armor with red accents. He’s a goodish guy now, but Aqua doesn’t trust him.

#|genshin impact|#| ᶦᶠ ᶦᵗ'ˢ ᵒᵘʳ ᵇᵒⁿᵈˢ ʷᵉ ˡᶦᵛᵉ ᵇʸ; ᶦ ʷᶦˡˡ ᵖᵘᵗ ᵐʸ ᶠᵃᶦᵗʰ ᶦⁿ ʸᵒᵘ /gi.aqua/ |#| ᶦ’ᵐ ᵗʰᵉ ˢʰᵉˡˡ ᵒᶠ ᵃ ᵍᶦʳˡ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶦ ᵘˢᵉᵈ ᵗᵒ ᵏⁿᵒʷ ʷᵉˡˡ [aqua hc] |

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okay-victoria · 3 years

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Random Personal Rant

For anyone somehow here not from the original thread, this started off me getting asked what finishing school is and me getting shit off my chest that is only mildly relevant about how I could both be of the social class that gets sent to finishing school and grows up on welfare.

With an understanding that in many parts of the world it wouldn't qualify as so, as far as the US goes, my dad is from what counts as a very old money family from Baltimore & Philadelphia. Both his siblings went to college and one now owns a major hedge fund, and his sister is married to a C-level executive at a huge conglomerate. His parents went to college. His grandparents went to college. All eight of his great grandparents went to college. My dad...did not go to college. He was not about that life, and while I don't mean it as an insult, when I say his primary occupation until I was ~5 was a drummer in a mediocre band I mean that he opened for a lot of great acts, and if you lived in the Boston to Atlanta area in the 80s you may have heard him play, but he was never a huge national name. But he wasn't an amateur band playing for free at some random local gig either.

My mom grew up on a chicken farm in a Mennonite family in Pennsylvania but also completely rejected her heritage and became a model, sort of like my father, of mediocre status. Not Giselle Bundchen, but had national contracts and if you have a Graco ad/box from 1990-1993 you might see both me and her on it. They met because my mom's friends placed bets, one each, on who could sleep with a member of their favorite local band first and my mom picked my dad and...my mom was actually supposed to go be a model in Tokyo and found out she was pregnant with me and couldn't go 😂

So, after my parents had two kids back to back with a third on the way and determined they needed lifestyles more in line with having three children, they became much poorer than they originally were because my mom stopped working and my dad, with a barely-passed-high-school education but needing a true "day job" worked day labor in construction. My dad's father was too proud to give us money/help if my dad didn't beg for it; despite having eventually four young children my dad never did so we ended up on all the state assistance programs one could imagine. My grandma jokes that dinners at my parents house were BYOC - bring your own chair, because we didn't own any.

My mother and paternal grandmother had no such pride issues and I live in eternal gratitude that my welfare childhood was not as crappy as it should have been because my grandmother would have my mom accompany her on grocery runs and buy us food without my father or grandfather knowing, and every Christmas and birthday my grandparents/godparents could give us the one big ticket gift all the kids wanted that year. But, on the other side, I once got stung by a bee inside my mouth because my brother threw a hairbrush through a cracked window at me and broke it and we couldn't afford to fix it for about two years and a hornet got in one day and rested himself in my coke can (my parents were the very American type that fed me coca-cola in baby bottles at age 8 when I was jealous of my younger siblings lol).

It is hard not to believe in "toxic masculinity" when two men warring over dumbass pride issues would rather their children/grandchildren go without food than suck it up and decide 'help' isn't the worst word in the English language, and you know you've only been saved by two women who came from totally different backgrounds and entirely disapproved of each other but reached out the hand to shake when it came down to toddlers getting the short end of the don't-bend-the-knee stick. It wasn't that either of the men were bad people, I loved them both and got along great with both, but on a societal level I feel they were socialized in a very fucked up way if that was the end result, as both claimed "male pride" in these instances [my dad took multiple thousands of dollars I'd saved from working during college from me during the 2008-2010 financial crisis and didn't tell me and that was the reason I was given for why I hadn't been informed/asked, because it would be too emotionally difficult for an adult man to ask a young woman. My graduation present was them repaying me 1/3 of the money they'd taken from me without asking because I'd like, trusted them when it had been in a joint account that was a holdover from when I was <18 and couldn't have my own bank account].

While in some ways my parents on the surface achieved the American dream of going from nothing to a bunch of money, the real factor in play was that my dad's father was the bank. My parents had no credit and couldn't get real loans. My dad worked construction and during the two major periods that flipping houses was very lucrative, he never had to get an actual loan or pay actual interest, he just had to ask his father to pay out cash and then repay him at a flat 2% interest rate that didn't even accrue over time, just...whenever you are ready, repay the value of the loan + 2%. Because my father was doing something productive, in these instances, my grandfather was happy to pay, because it wasn't giving away money, it was loaning it. I had a very weird situation of mostly being poor but like also getting taken to the "big donors" events at the Kennedy Center and my grandparents regularly buying me a dress as a child worth more than my mom's wedding dress and also needing to pretend I fit in with these people.

And look. When I say "these people"...honestly, by and large, most wealthy people, whether inherited or not, are not the assholes you want to imagine. Most of them are extremely nice. Most of them are generous when it comes to the less fortunate who are in their personal sphere of being. Most of them are just really out of touch. The 100% kindest of all of them that I know once relayed to me that she thought people would be happier if once a year they did what she did...go to the airport with a purse packed full of absolute necessities, buy a one way ticket to the most appealing destination on the flight board, buy your clothes and book your accommodations after you'd arrived, and come back after you felt you'd 'centered' yourself. She didn't understand why there were so many unhappy people who weren't taking this very obvious route to being happier. I didn't quite know how to explain that saying "most" people couldn't afford to do that either financially or from a job/career angle didn't even cover it, as "most" sounds like 70% instead of 99.7%.

I was both my parents eldest son and eldest daughter in the worst combination possible. I was the eldest son because I was the most stereotypically male of all my siblings, in everything from desire to physically fight the battles I was given to dislike of shopping/fashion to lack of emotional connection to my relationships, so I can now fix your average household plumbing/drywall/electrical issue better than most "city" guys I interact with and remain less clingy to them in the process. I was also very much the oldest daughter from a responsibility perspective, I managed our household and from age 10 - 24 managed the finances of our family business, my mom almost died giving birth to my youngest brother after a ruptured uterus that should never have happened in the first place if we had adequate insurance to get her a non-emergency C-section (I was just past 9 years old at the time) and I was informally withdrawn from school for two years to take care of the family when she couldn't because there is no paid parental leave in the US and we got double-fucked by the medical industry because she got a bad "mesh" put in and then had to have a further surgery to repair that which we also had to pay for and didn't have the money to win a lawsuit over.

I don't know quite how to put this, but in the deepest fuck you of the universe, my rich-immigrant-ggggg grandfather's money led to him owning banks, insurance companies, etc, and the family cashed out in a big way when their ownership was bought by and merged with what is now Cigna, one of the biggest US healthcare insurers, and my nuclear family specifically got screwed by the American health insurance industry, but anyway, we were the people selected for that karmic comeuppance so if you want to feel schadenfreude at my expense, I'll allow it without begrudging the sentiment, my family might have fucked up your family’s life too, not just their own.

I got up twice a night to feed my brother because my dad had to sleep unmolested in my room to get to work and my mom was too weak to carry my brother or even hold him against her while she nursed so I had to hold him up to her. Adjusting to living in a city and hearing lots of random noises all the time was not easy when I'd had mom sound instincts from age 9.

I learned to drive the fall my youngest bro was born because my mom couldn't and I had to get my middle brother to preschool and go the grocery store on my own. While I hold absolutely no ill will towards my father or grandfather for this and given that about 1/3 of my paternal family either has an autism diagnosis or should, I fully feel the struggles they both went through to be communicated with, my father wouldn't ask for help, and my grandmother that lived 20 minutes away couldn't give enough help because my grandfather refused to do a single dish on his own as that was outside their "marriage contract" type agreement and she couldn't ever stay with us overnight when there wasn't a clearly-communicated need, so they let the burden fall on a 9 - 11 year old child and that really shaped a lot of my life in both good and bad ways. My youngest brother is 22, and we have only just climbed out of the medical debt his birth left us with between my dad's life insurance and my oldest brother and I paying for the extra cost of out-of-state college tuition.

The irony of all of this is that because my father died before his father, when my grandmother dies, my siblings and I will all inherit enough money (as a non-blood relative my mom, despite keeping her vows to part at death and not having remarried in eight years, is cut out entirely) to make this a non-issue, but my grandfather couldn't conscience spotting his unluckiest child some money in the end of days to pay for my youngest two brothers' education and take that worry off my father as he was dying. The day before he died I had to hold him down in bed to keep him from trying to climb in his truck to go to work because he was so anxious about trying to provide for us in spite of his father having fuck you money, because his father didn't think it was fair to the other siblings (who, at the time, still owned a major hedge fund and were married to a C-level executive of a huge conglomerate). A day and a half later I went back to my job because at the time I was then the sole provider for the family and didn't want to risk asking for the standard week's bereavement leave when I knew I was capable of showing up at work the next day and was fresh out of college so hadn't built up a reputation yet.

My father worked the day each of us was born, so I suppose it is only fair and he smiled at the choice. In spite of what it may seem, I gave a baller and very heartfelt speech at his funeral to all his rich friends that over and above everything, he'd taught us how to be happy with our own lives no matter what, and multiple of them emailed my mom in the aftermath to say they'd reassessed their relationship with their children in light of it, although...tbh I kind of doubt that lasted and they probably changed nothing 😅. The last good talk I had with him, two weeks before he died [his liver was going and it sent toxins to his brain that de-personed him after that and he no longer recognized me as his daughter, but as his sister], I reassured him that though we would all be sad he'd gone, we'd live on just fine without him because that's how he'd raised us, and according to my mom that was what gave him the final bit of peace he needed. Although honestly, I don't think I will ever see the strength in another human again that it took my grandmother to sit next to him and stroke his hand and tell him to close his eyes and imagine he was happy on a beach and die, for God's sake, because he was unaware and in pain and just prolonging it for our sake by then.

That type of obsession my grandfather had with assessing his children and grandchildren on the basis of economic productivity and a very black and white idea of "fair" is one you don't easily forget, I promise you. My hedge fund uncle is currently positioning himself to screw us out of our inheritance because of janky writing in the will and I'm doing my fuck all best to gain the wherewithal to go toe-to-toe with this cold motherfucker in court as the oldest and representative member of my happily much nicer and softer younger brothers who I want to remain that way not because I even care that much about the money, I know what bills affect your credit first and what you can put off paying and all of us have good enough career prospects to do our own thing, but just because I want to give the middle finger to a man that was a multi-millionaire and drew lines on his milk and orange juice bottles when I came over so he knew if I drank what my parents couldn't afford when I was approximately six. Anyway, ask me why I support major reforms in wealth taxation. I don't care who it goes to, just not that guy, you feel?

Having expendable income was very exciting for a bit after I started working but once I got to the hateable point of assessing my annual bonus and internally complaining that I'd spent the money I should have spent on a Sauternes cellar to drop five digits on bedset materials (to be fair they are drop dead gorgeous, very comfy and the factory pays a living wage for people to handmake the sheets/duvets/pillows to people in San Francisco, which is not cheap, so maybe I did more good than harm with that), I two seconds later nodded to myself and went "the government needs to confiscate more money from me". The narrative is always that the "undeserving" will use it for dumb things they don't need like iPhones or refrigerators...?...but like...I could also have gone to Bed Bath and Beyond and bought a very nice sheet/comforter set for at most a tenth of what I paid so am I really spending it responsibly either....?....who is going to get more joy out of this misspent money....?....not me, that is for sure, I probably would have had more fun going to BBB and laying on all the demo beds and buying something there.

My lifelong dream, which may become possible if/when I do have something of an inheritance, is to provide food security for one of the many towns in the US were most residents don't have it. It's the thing I remember the most distinctly over the years. I never could quite believe it when I got to the point that I could just...pay to eat at a restaurant. One of the most disappointed my mother has ever been in me is when I was twenty five and confessed I actually had no idea how much a gallon of milk cost in a city grocery store besides that it was probably between $1 and $5, because I didn't have to know. For now I make a weekly drop off of my excess produce to a mom group I met under somewhat weird circumstances but I was walking through the cut-through that went through the low-income housing back to my apartment at like 2 AM on a Saturday and these moms were out there partying and smoking weed with their kids all strapped in strollers around or the older ones watched by a rotating member of the group and I felt very safe and like these moms had a very good vibe of both living their own lives [seriously for mental health parents but in most cases specifically mothers need to be able to keep up relationships with people their age] but keeping their children safe and accounted for while doing so and trying their fuckin' best against all the odds to figure out how to make that happen when life had dealt them a shit hand.

...anyway, looping way back to the original question of what finishing school is, when I was almost done with middle school my dad had built a legit construction business that then very quickly took off because we lived in a commutable zip code to the now-rich-in-their-own-right people he went to high school with who trusted him to redo their homes. We eventually moved to that zip code but I stayed and commuted back to my old high school. But, i was a pretty wild kid which my father appreciated for a long while because I would follow him around on jobs and enjoy doing physical labor, but once I was mid-puberty and also he had to maybe show me to his high school friends that did not fly.

I snapped - not broke, snapped - my left thumb and my parents had to trap me like a wild animal to get me to go the hospital. Then I got a deep cut that partially injured a tendon in my leg and at eleven I tried to beat the shit out of my dad to prevent him from picking me up to strap me in the car and go to the hopsital. Next I got a deep splinter due to my eternal-barefoot tendencies and it wouldn't come out so got infected and I refused to go to the doctor [another weird back story but I was minorly sexually assaulted [[to be clear, not raped or anything big traumatic]] when I was eight and had to stay in hospital for a week and my parents couldn't be with me all the time so I have a permanent heebie-jeebie about going to the hospital, not true anxiety, I will go if I know I need to and I don't breathe heavy or anything, and I'm actually not permanently weirded out by sex or anything, just doctors in hospitals specifically I kind of unconsciously try to justify not needing to the extent I can rationalize it] and my dad was tired of my antics so he was like "fine if you don't go I will slice your foot in half with a Swiss Army knife to get it out" and I called his bluff and laid down on the floor, stuck my foot on his lap, and he didn't really know what to do when a barely fourteen year old girl called his bluff so my brothers watched in fascinated but horrified awe as I got my foot sliced open spectacularly so that the infection/splinter could come out and I didn't even make a sound out of spite despite it being quite painful to my recollection almost twenty years later.

They saw me cry from pain exactly one time when while trying to break up a fight between all three of them (it was over ice cream) I got pushed and my ankle got dislocated and what actually made me cry was snapping it back in place and they realized it was not a joke. These dumb assholes that I love have ragged on me for "skipping" chores the day after I was in the hospital because the day before that I had to spend 18 hours running Thanksgiving as a good sub-hostess like I didn't have a serious infection that needed treating and couldn't rest because none of them were up to any task beyond peeling potatoes.

After the Swiss Army knife incident, my dad's discussion of sending me to finishing school became real, which I knew when my mom made me take a walk with her and talked about it. Finishing school is like...etiquette school....? In ye olden day when finishing high school was not the norm for anyone, wealthy men finished high school and wealthy women often went to "finishing" school to have a combined education on being a proper lady but also being able to hold a decent conversation with your presumably-educated husband, so it wasn't entirely etiquette non-academic. It was more just like "what a rich man wants in a wife" school, which was sort of household management and knowing enough about cleaning/cooking to correct the staff if they fucked up, how to be a polite hostess, and how to not entirely bore him when you were alone together and had done your five minutes of sex or whatever so actually had to have a conversation. In modern times it has obviously expanded to be less bleak.

I said miss me with that, I can be a girl on my own, so I went full throttle into the girliest sport they offer in high school and ever since have gained the inestimable advantage of knowing how to also use femininity to my advantage, which I am very grateful to my parents for making me learn. It would be great if we lived in a world where that didn't count, but it did/still does, and they really set me up to operate in all the worlds.

It is weird for me to tell the story to Internet strangers because it's one of those things that makes your parents sound terrible and abusive in the general tone of the Internet nowadays, and while I support gender nonconforming children I don't remember my childhood or parents that way. But, I feel like the bits and pieces of my life I've given don't always make a ton of sense together without the context, so here it is, and in the end, I think a number of parts of it are areas where you can probably understand where it makes me have the opinions I do when I write.

Anyhoo, this makes my life sound far worse than it is, I actually have a great life and I am not unhappy with it at all and feel I was on the whole blessed with many more turns of luck than unluck, so, please, do not take this as a depressed artist rant, it is more like a rant of a very energetic person who rants about a lot of things all the time and didn’t need to come out but just did because the question was asked and the time was right with my life being in a bit of flux to think about how I got where I am and where I want to go and why.

Always remember no matter what problems it seems like I have, if I didn’t solve them on my 2 year round the world traveling hiatus I took from working, it’s my own fault, I definitely had the time and money to solve them and just chose not to.

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xiaomomowrites · 3 years

Text

zhongli, come down

Genshin Impact | TartaLi/ZhongChi

Summary: “When I’m with you, I feel happy,” his eyes are fixated on the ceiling as he speaks. Childe, on the other hand, can’t look anywhere but at him. And although he speaks of his happiness, there are deep waves of sorrow rolling off of him. Zhongli’s makeup had washed off when he took a steaming shower, leaving Tartaglia to see the dark circles under his eyes and the faint wrinkles underneath. The light in his eyes had dulled without the bold presence of his usual red eyeliner, and it seemed as though his face appeared more sunken in when the light hit him at a certain angle.

Childe’s heart pangs in his chest. Sometimes, his husband really looks his age.

Or, Zhongli and Childe visit Snezhnaya, but there’s a certain adeptus on Zhongli’s mind.

Find it on Ao3!

WARNING: this fic contains mentions of death/minor character death. Read at your own risk!

This part takes place between act V and act VI, which is still in the works~

A/N: I had meant to get this out earlier, but I live in Texas so we’ve been having sporadic power outages for the past three or four days. I had spotty connection and it was freezing in my house so this ended up a little delayed! Plus, act VI really just doesn’t wanna be written :( I want it to be perfect before I post it though, I don’t wanna give y’all mediocre Tartali food lol. But I hope you all enjoy, I’ll be adding a little message at the end if you’re interested, so stay tuned. -u.n.

Zhongli felt another full-body shiver rack through him when the wind whistled by again ruthlessly. Archaic divinity and equity aside, he wanted nothing more but to spit and curse the harsh ice beneath his feet. He had all but lost feeling in his fingers and toes as he stood still in the snow, waiting for Childe to finish grabbing them coffee. The Harbinger had offered the drink out of the kindness of his heart when he had seen how badly Zhongli was shivering, as if they hadn’t come here together before. Zhongli accepted the coffee with enthusiasm, knowing it makes Childe happy when he accepts his gifts.

He found himself at the doorstep of Snezhnaya with Childe, visiting his family for the year as they did each November. Unfortunately, November through February seemed to be the harshest that the winters got. The weather would breach zero degrees and drop past negative ten, the wind would lash furiously past parkas and scarves and mittens and kiss bare skin. And Zhongli, in all his divine beauty, would miss the warm summer nights of Liyue so much that he needed to remind himself of how much he loved his husband just to agree to get on the train with him.

Childe, his darling ginger, simply hummed alongside him and tucked Zhongli’s arm beneath his own to keep him from slipping on the ice. His time in Liyue had not shaken his immunity to the cold at all. His other hand sipped at the warm coffee encapsulated in green cardboard, humming a happy noise from the back of his throat. Even if it was a one time occurrence years ago that ended with minor bruising along the ex-Archon’s back, Childe never let him live the moment down and swore to hold onto him every second they found themselves in his hometown. Zhongli had insisted that he need not pace himself just to walk alongside an old man like him, but he had just pinched his cheeks, kissed his nose, and reminded him that he wasn’t that old.

“You’ve got that sexy rich-middle-aged-man thing going on for you. Except, all your money comes from me, and you’re actually six thousand years old,” Tartaglia had told him then, beaming up at him so brightly it made Zhongli blink.

Soon enough, Zhongli finds himself at his in-law’s residence. He takes a deep breath, preparing for the onslaught of Childe’s siblings enthusiasm, and waits for Childe to knock. The Harbinger grins at his anticipation and raps his knuckles against the comforting wood. Not even a beat later and the oak swings open, revealing Teucer, Tonia, and Anthon. They’ve all gotten so big since he last saw them, watching them grow fills the ex-Archon with pride. Zhongli finds himself smiling, squeezing Childe’s hand partially because he’s overwhelmed with joy, and also so he doesn’t slip and fall on his ass too hard when he’s tackled.

Seconds later he finds himself with an armful of red headed siblings. He stumbles, but thankfully Childe’s there to steady him upright. Zhongli squeezes his hand again in thanks.

“Mr. Zhongli!” One of them screeches in his ear, “You’re back! Do you have any presents for us?”

“Mr. Zhongli!” Another one yells, “did you bring me a new book?”

Luckily, Tartaglia’s mother begins barking at her children to reign them back inside and to ‘leave the nice man alone’, so that he has time to readjust and step inside the warmth of their cozy abode. Zhongli smiles, cheeks red and ears redder, and bows as deep as he can.

“Thank you for having me,” the honey-like voice glides against the wooden walls like it belongs there, “it is a pleasure to see you all again.”

“Oh stop,” his mother-in-law gushes, “we’ve seen you every year for years now, honey, drop the formalities!” she waves him off while pulling her own son into a bone crushing hug. “And it’s good to see you too, hun.”

“Hi mom,” Childe responds sheepishly, careful not to squeeze her too hard, lest her back start cracking again. He raises a hand to cradle the back of her head with a fondness reserved only for her. “Where’s dad?”

The question hangs above their heads heavily. A beat of silence passes before she smiles warily and squeezes her son’s cheeks. “He’s at the fireplace, Ajax.”

Childe nods, and eyes the urn sitting high above the crackling fireplace. It’s a beautiful marble urn that Tartaglia paid for in full, with a single ruby gem nestled right beside his father’s name. Even in this state, his father has the largest presence in the house. It is a presence even Zhongli can acknowledge and respect. The thought pushes Zhongli to squeeze his hand and mutter, “Go?”

Tartaglia nods, and swallows hard. Zhongli urges him forward carefully with a gloved hand against the small of his back. His mother watches him go along with sullen and somber eyes. And it is only when Childe is stationed in front of the fire, a single gloved hand covering his mouth, when Zhongli breaks the silence.

“So,” Zhongli begins, turning to his in-law. “The last time we spoke, you promised me a recipe for that delicious meal you served us last year. Were you able to hold up your end of the contract?”

The red-headed woman beams up at him and grabs at his hands. Her hands are so small, so soft and delicate, Zhongli wishes nothing more but to protect this family with his life. And well, that makes two of them.

“Of course, dear,” she says excitedly, “come with me.”

The next hour or so consisted of Zhongli patiently waiting in the kitchen while his mother-in-law bustled around, excitedly explaining the process of dough rolling, frying, meat filling, and then frying again. Zhongli watched with fascination, always one to appreciate cultures from all around the world. He hummed and nodded in confirmation every once in a while when she would turn to him, asking him if he understood, and he smiled.

Tartaglia came padding into the kitchen later, eyes slightly red and puffy, and Zhongli didn’t need to ask if something was wrong to understand what was going on. He knew all too well of his feelings of conflict toward his father in the past. Now that the man himself was gone, Zhongli could only imagine the things Childe was feeling at the moment.

Zhongli never exactly had a family to grieve, anyway. As far as he knew, all the family he had was in this very house alone.

And Xiao, the voice in his head whispered, snapping him out of his reverie. Zhongli blinked the voice away. Now was not the time.

“Talking behind my back, Xiansheng?” Childe teases, coming up behind him to snake his arms around his waist. “That’s not very husband-like of you, you know.”

“Yes, yes,” Zhongli played along, “your mother and I were just discussing how unruly you are in the morning, and how you leave wet towels on the floor after you shower. Truly a horrendous habit, Tartaglia.”

The ginger pouts over his shoulder and leans in to bite his cheek, reveling in the way Zhongli squeezes one eye shut in a faux flinch. He quickly kisses the flesh he sunk his teeth into and settles back against his husband.

“Smells good, mom.”

“It always smells good, Ajax,” she tuts, waving her spoon in his face, “what do you think of your mother, huh?”

“Why am I being attacked,” Tartaglia pouts, the end of the sentence lilting upward in a whine. Zhongli clicks his tongue at his behavior and pats his head reassuringly.

“The food will be ready soon,” he reassures, “besides, she was just telling me all about a soup that I must try my hand at next year.”

Tartaglia groans dramatically and leans all his weight against Zhongli in response.

—

Night falls, and Childe finds himself lighting the fireplace in the room they stay in upstairs, letting the flames embrace the room in an auburn glow. His siblings are tucked in and finally quiet after Zhongli’s endless stories of Liyue. His mother had turned in an hour earlier after smothering the two in kisses, and the couple had stayed in the kitchen for a bit sipping wine and conversing in the moonlight. After downing a good amount and feeling a light buzz through their systems, they called it a night and headed upstairs, pinkies linked as always.

But Zhongli was off during the entire conversation. It may have seemed like he was himself to an outsider, but Tartaglia knew better. He knew when his husband was somewhere else. He had seen it too many times before.

So later, when Zhongli finds himself sitting on their windowsill rather melancholic, watching the snow fall, Childe regards him with a careful stare. The ex-Archon eyes the way the snow falls so tenderly yet so purposefully, as if they all held a secret that even an ancient being like him didn’t understand. He shivers at the cold that seeps in through the windows and kisses his fingertips where they meet the glass, and cradles his hand back to his chest slowly.

“Zhongli,” Childe calls. The said man turns from the window, eyes bright and oddly wet. Oh, Childe knows that look. “C’mere,” he beckons. Zhongli obeys and pads over to where his husband is situated on their bed. He crawls onto the mattress next to him and slumps against the headboard, still deep in his thoughts.

The Harbinger looks at him with concern and squirms over to where Zhongli sits. He uses his chest as a pillow, wrapping his arms around a lithe waist and tucking his nose in the crook of his neck. He breathes deeply the mature scent of silk flowers and feels his heart thump happily in his chest. Childe stays quiet for a moment, and allows himself to focus on the rise and fall of his sturdy chest. Zhongli runs the length of his palm up and down Tartaglia’s side as he ponders.

Childe decides to break the silence before he falls asleep. “What’s wrong?” he asks quietly, voice barely above a whisper. Zhongli’s hand comes up to his hair and scratches at his scalp the way he knows Childe likes it.

“Nothing. I am just… thinking.” His voice trails off pensively.

“Hmm. As usual,” he hums, “what about?” Childe prods gently, knowing there’s a fifty-fifty chance his husband will indulge him.

He’s quiet for a moment. Far too quiet. Childe wonders if he should drop the subject.

“Xiao, actually,” he says suddenly. “I am thinking of Xiao.”

“Xiao,” Childe parrots, confused as to why the legendary adeptus lingers in his beloved’s head at a time like this.

Zhongli sighs, and his shoulders hunch forward, eyebrows furrowing in mild discomfort. “Whenever I am with you, I cannot help but think of him.”

Childe’s eyebrows shoot up to his forehead. “Elaborate?” He’s only mildly offended, but he jests nonetheless in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere.

Zhongli chuckles and pushes a thumb between Childe’s frown. “Not like that. You know there’s no one in my heart except you. Besides, he’s like… family to me. I simply care deeply for his well being.”

Childe offers a wry smile. He knows, he’s just teasing. “So what’s wrong?”

“When I’m with you, I feel happy,” his eyes are fixated on the ceiling as he speaks. Childe, on the other hand, can’t look anywhere but at him. And although he speaks of his happiness, there are deep waves of sorrow rolling off of him. Zhongli’s makeup had washed off when he took a steaming shower, leaving Tartaglia to see the dark circles under his eyes and the faint wrinkles underneath. The light in his eyes had dulled without the bold presence of his usual red eyeliner, and it seemed as though his face appeared more sunken in when the light hit him at a certain angle.

Childe’s heart pangs in his chest. Sometimes, his husband really looks his age.

“When I’m with you, I forget all my troubles. My burdens are made lighter simply by your presence. I forget what it felt like to be a part of the Archon War, or what it was like having so much blood on my hands. When I’m with you, I forget all of that. And I am happy.” Zhongli’s tone of voice certainly does not match the topic he speaks of.

Still, Childe gulps. The ex-Archon can be too sappy for his own good, he might have a heart attack.

“Xiao, on the other hand, carries burdens almost heavier than mine,” he speaks as if it were an irrefutable fact. Although Childe wants to protest, he allows him to continue. “Millennia of suffering. Centuries of torture. Generations worth of karma building up on his plate. And he has no one he can turn to to help him forget; no one to help him bear it. Xiao is… alone.” His voice cracks pathetically.

Ah.

The wind turns colder. There’s a chill that goes through the room, and it seeps into Childe’s bones. The Harbinger’s eyes dart to the fireplace, almost accusing it of not doing its job. He’s mildly aware of the new presence outside of the window that reeks of karma and a heavy heart. The tidal waves of grief and remorse spill into the room, and Tartaglia almost wants to wave a hand in front of his face to waft the energy away. Nevertheless, Childe dismisses it knowing that it is harmless, and turns all of his attention on his partner.

“What about that traveler,” Childe offers, “Xiao seems to be fixated on him.”

Zhongli shakes his head. “Young Traveler is far too free spirited for that, and Xiao is the type to only give his heart when he is certain that the source is stable and everlasting.”

Childe nods in understanding. He’s the same way, after all. “He was right to give his heart to you.”

“And yet I betrayed him, did I not?” Zhongli asks.

Childe frowns once again. He wills his voice to not sound too accusing when he asks, “In what way?”

Zhongli waves his free hand in the air, trying his best to convey the emotions that had been eating at him all evening.

“I am here, parading away with my husband while he still watches over Liyue per my request. Even though our contract ended, he still persists. He still fights the demons of the gods I slayed myself. He still is trapped by the shackles of Liyue, cleaning up my mess, worshipping my name, while I lay here wondering if I want coffee or tea when the sun rises.”

His voice wavers. Childe’s heart tugs. The Harbinger shuffles closer and squeezes him tighter.

“I can’t help but feel as though I am responsible for his suffering. I am the one who summoned him, am I not? The fierce Yakshas… oh how truly amazing they were,” Zhongli rambles, fingers tightening their hold on Childe. “And now they are all…”

“Zhongli.” He cuts him off sternly. The man in question shakes out his reverie, glassy amber eyes meeting cerulean. Childe brings a hand to his cheek to caress the sinfully soft skin there. The ginger leans in, pressing his forehead against his temple and pleads.

“Stop,” he whispers, and then his hand finds purchase on his husband’s neck. “Stop.”

“I am not worthy of it any longer, Ajax,” Zhongli’s voice warbles, “all I want is for Young Xiao to rest and finally find peace. I no longer want him to have nightmares, asleep or not. I want to be the one to be rid of his burdens. I want him to be happy, Ajax, I want—“

“No,” Childe interrupts again, “there is nothing you can do, my love. And I’m so sorry you feel that way. I truly am. But his suffering has nothing to do with you anymore. Xiao looks up to you—“

“But he shouldn’t.”

“Xiao looks up to you,” he persists, “for a reason. He adores you, okay? No matter what you do. No matter what you say. No matter how you look. Even if you’re skin and bone and wrinkly with gray hair, Xiao would still admire you. Your strength has withstood the test of time, and so has his loyalty to you.” He brushes a stray hair from Zhongli’s face and continues.

“You were the one that saved him. Have you ever thought of that, old man? You saved him and named him. I mean, if someone were to pull me out of the abyss and give me a hug for god’s sake, I probably would have turned out different,” Zhongli’s eyes soften even more, but Childe refuses to make this about him. He thumps a fist against Zhongli’s chest in mock petulance. “Xiao respects you because you deserve it. It is as simple as that.”

Zhongli is quiet, pondering, so Tartaglia takes that as an invitation to continue.

“You have served your time bearing your burdens. You have saved souls and you have killed your own share of demons, and you fought to get where you are now. You deserve a break, Zhongli. And you don’t need to feel guilty that someone out there hasn’t been liberated of their own issues. You of all people understand Xiao’s strength. Probably more than Xiao himself, right? So have faith in him, Xiansheng. And know that you don’t have to carry the burden of freedom on your own. Burdens are meant to be shared, and I’m your husband, remember?”

“Oh, how could I forget,” Zhongli chuckles as he jests. His voice still warbles, but Tartaglia will take what he can get. Childe pinches his cheek playfully.

“Sooo,” Childe trails off, running a finger down the length of Zhongli’s pale neck. “With that being said, I think you should enjoy the time you have now, with me, instead of reminiscing about the past.”

Zhongli nods.

“After all, I won’t be here forever-”

“Do not.” Zhongli interrupts, looking away. His chest stops fluctuating, and it takes a moment for Childe to realize he was holding his breath. And just like that, his defensive wall is back up again. Tartaglia looks at him with wide eyes. Obviously he had struck a chord he hadn’t meant to. The grip Zhongli had around the back of his neck tightened like he meant to keep him close to his chest forever; greedy, selfish hands continue to grasp at the back of his shirt.

“Oh,” Tartaglia breathes, “I’m sorry, I was just joking.”

“I know,” Zhongli all but whimpers, “but my brain doesn’t exactly register those kinds of things as jokes.”

Tartaglia nods, unsure of what else to say. So, he ditches the thought of saying anything, and lifts a deft finger to tilt Zhongli’s face back to him. He abandons his words and leans in instead. He captures his God’s lips with his own and presses close, desperate to show him that he’s there. Tartaglia’s alive and well and very much in love, and he’s there. He’s not going anywhere; he wouldn’t even dare to think about going anywhere. Their marriage was more than a contract, it was a covenant. The vows that were sworn on that night kept them glued together, and only ‘til death do they part.

Well, until Ajax’s death, at least.

The thought makes Tartaglia’s head pound, and he shakes the thoughts away with determination.

“I’m here,” he reassures anyway when they part, kiss-bruised lips brush against his cheek as he speaks. “Let me prove it to you.”

Zhongli nods wordlessly, cupping Childe’s face with one hand and dragging the Harbinger onto his lap with the other. They press against each other, nice and close, so that one would not be able to decipher where one began and the other ended.

“I love you,” Tartaglia confesses into the dark, breathless. Zhongli drags him impossibly closer.

Xiao takes that as his cue to leave, the wind chill harsh and no longer gentle as he vanishes into thin air.

A/N: Okayy I’m gonna get a little serious in the end notes hehe so if you wanna skip out on that, thank you so much for reading! And I hope you have a wonderful week :) find me on twitter @/xiaoscribbles and AO3 @/unironicallynapping

I wanted to write this because I’ve been on my own journey to recovery lately. My family suffered many losses in 2020 and since then, I had been struggling to get back on path and find a healthy mindset. But there’s a passage that I read in a book I’ve been reading that covers the guilt we sometimes feel when we recover, knowing and know that there’s someone out there who is suffering, too. The guilt can become unbearable, but it doesn’t need to be felt. You can take your feelings of guilt and turn it into something good. You can enjoy the life of recovery you’re living while still being there for those who need it. You can show someone you love them while also reveling in the happiness that you deserve. You don’t need to feel like you don’t deserve it just because you recovered, and someone else hasn’t. Everyone is on their own path, so rejoice in the fact that you’ve made it to your own happiness!

I hope this fic/message spoke to some of you. It’s a really important message to me, and I just wanted to share :)

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #zhongli #childe #xiao #tartaglia #character study #domestic bliss #childe x zhongli #rex lapis #tartali #chili #zhongchi

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