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#so i of course started shoveling it into my mouth - free food! but their manager caught us
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the absolutely Vivid reality based chronological dream i had last night. man
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lizzie-is-here · 1 year
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lonely is a man without love
part i- the mission
“and i say to myself: a moon will rise from my darkness.” - mahmoud darwish
summary: you’re an ex-black widow, assigned to observe marc spector. instead, you find steven grant
wordcount: 1.4k
warnings: language, violence, idk british people?
a/n: and so it begins again :)))) this series won’t be very long, but i’m gonna have fun with a black widow reader. if you’d like to be added to the taglist, feel free to ask! love you, hope you enjoy! <3333
taglist: @thefictionalgemini @ravenz-hope
series masterlist | next part
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“Britain? Come on, Rogers, seriously?”
You groan as you throw the file down on the kitchen counter. After several months of recovering from all of the shit with the Blip, Thanos, Tony’s recovery, and catching up after being fucking dust for five years, you finally got to go back on missions.
And they send you to fucking. Britain. London, to be more specific.
“Steve, the food is absolute shit. They eat like they’re still rationing their food for the war,” you rant. The man raises a brow at the mention of his past, but shrugs.
“It’s something easy to start you back up. We can’t send you guns blazing into space.” He sets a yogurt bowl and some fruit in front of you. “Eat your breakfast.”
You roll your eyes, thanking him as you grab the food. “Thanks, grandpa.” You flip through the file. “Who’s the mark?”
“Not a mark, a target,” Nat corrects.
You shrug. “Same thing.”
“He’s some vigilante called Marc Spector,” she says without looking up from her phone. She’s texting Yelena, no doubt. Likely planning the younger girl’s visit. You haven’t seen her since your own escape from the Red Room, but you’re more than thrilled to meet up.
The two of you had been inseparable, even with Dreykov’s strict rule. And now that Nat had gotten into contact with her again, it was only a matter of time before you got together to cause trouble.
And make mac and cheese. ‘Lena made really good mac and cheese.
“He used to be in the Army, but went AWOL and started working as a merc,” she continues. “Seems enhanced.”
Shoveling the yogurt into your mouth, you narrow your eyes. “So is this, like, a ‘Clint-style-recruitment’ situation or a ‘beat-his-ass’ situation?”
Steve hesitates, considering the question. “Uh, depends. Entirely up to you.”
“Great, you’re very prepared.” You set the bowls in the sink. “So, how long until I fly out?”
———————————————————————
You’re good at your job. Amazing, really. And you know it.
Of course you are. The Red Room didn’t make second-bests, and you’d been cycled through three separate times. You and Yelena headed missions, racked up kills, and obliterated organizations with ease.
When Nat had destroyed the Red Room back in 2016 and Yelena, Alexei, and Melina had left to free the other widows, the redhead offered you a place with the Avengers. You weren’t stupid, so you’d accepted.
Then you’d disappeared in Wakanda and woken up five years later.
This was very jarring (no shit), so the team had ordered a 3-month recovery for anyone who had been dusted.
No one else seemed very enthusiastic to get back to missions, but you were.
So, when you touch down in a bustling airport, you send the jet back to the compound, grab your ID, and sling your bag over your shoulder. TSA lets you by with ease, despite the absurd amount of weapons you have, and you work on blending in with the crowd until you can reach your rented motorcycle.
Your Russian accent makes it a bit hard, but you manage a convincing enough Cockney accent to slip under the radar.
Now to find the target. Your coordinates lead you to a small apartment building (you will NOT call them flats), and a fake enough smile and forged documents gets you a flat one floor above the target room.
Huffing as you unpack, you set out countless guns, knives, and weapons that would really suck to be killed by. A loud thump resonates from the floor.
You slip one gun into your waistband and a knife in your boot before listening closely. Annoyed British mumbling follows.
“Oh, jeez, I’ve gotta clean up. This is such a mess…”
That doesn’t sound like a mercenary. Maybe he’ll surprise you, you suppose.
You sneak down the stairs, finding the correct apartment and raising your hand to the door. A quick but effective knock later, the door opens.
“Uh, hi?” The guy is cute. A bit disheveled, but when you peer inside his home, you see no weapons, no signs of a violent hobby.
“Hi,” you greet, bouncing on the balls of your feet. “My name is (Y/N), I just moved into the apartment upstairs. Figured I’d greet my new neighbors.”
He looks shocked. “Oh, I didn’t know we were getting any new residents. It’s nice to meet you.” You notice that his accent seems a bit… off. “I’m sorry if I’m not the most quiet neighbor. I’ve got a sleep disorder.”
You nod, noting his posture and how close he holds his hands to his body. He notices your silence and jumps.
“Oh, God, I’m sorry, I’m Steven Grant. I work at the London Museum.”
Luckily, the team took enough precedence to give you a fake job. After explaining that you worked from home doing digital marketing, you exchange goodbyes and head back upstairs.
“Ах, дерьмо [Ah, shit],” you sigh, collapsing on the bed. Yes, you’re thrilled to be back in the game, but this?
This was a waiting game, not a hunt-down-a-target-and-snipe-them-from-the-roof kind of game.
And you’ve never been patient.
———————————————————————
It’s a long month, even with Steven becoming your sort-of friend. You’ve scouted out his routine, polished your weapons, and even kept some muggers off his tail.
After visiting him at the museum, you’ve discovered his passion for Egyptology. He knows more than the guides, but is confined to the souvenir shop by his asshole boss.
You offer to kill her, only half joking, and he declines. It’s a shame.
But you’re starting to think he’s the wrong guy.
He lacks any basic survival skills, much less any fighting prowess. A dude held him at knifepoint and he gave him his wallet and phone. Luckily, you’d been just around the corner to grab the guy and knock him on his ass with little fuss.
“Holy shit, how’d you do that?” Steven had asked, gratefully taking back his things. The thief had booked it after you’d judo-flipped him and tugged his arm hard enough to dislocate.
“Do what?” you’d asked, watching him laugh.
He had waved a hand down the street. “Beat that guy up! You were flipping everywhere, and-“
It was your turn to laugh. “I did lots of martial arts as a kid. Good to know they’re coming in handy.”
It’s not a lie. Not really.
Despite Steven’s apparent innocence, you’re still suspicious. There’s always noise in the apartment below you, and the door will open and slam shut at odd hours. When you inquire about it, your target/friend (it’s complicated) claims to have no idea.
Except he’s telling the truth. You know when someone’s lying to you. You’ve never been wrong. And Steven isn’t lying.
He really doesn’t know anything about the sounds from his own flat.
One day, you’re sitting at your table with mac and cheese and polishing your favorite knife, when the door below you shuts. A voice comes up from the floorboards, like it does so often.
Instead of Steven’s fishy British accent talking to himself about Egypt or his goldfish, something else comes up.
That’s a Chicago accent.
You shove a gun into the waistband of your sweatpants, hurrying down the stairs. Without hesitation, you pick the lock and kick open the door.
Clicking the safety off of your gun and gripping it with both hands, you step in the apartment.
“Shit,” you whisper, real accent slipping through as you revert to your training.
You clear the main room of the apartment, methodical and precise.
A sound comes from the bathroom and you see the familiar figure. Hiding your gun, you sigh in relief.
You lean against the wall. “Sorry, I thought someone else was in-“
The man whips around, clearly shocked you’re there. He grabs a knife.
Oh, shit.
When he lunges forward, you dodge, grab his wrist, elbow his shoulder to loosen his grip, and grab the tactical knife. With a flick of the wrist, you lodge it in the door you just picked.
“Who are you?” the man demands, readying his fists. He looks like Steven, but acts like the complete opposite.
His posture is confident, tall. He glares at you through the sweat and blood on his face.
“My name is (Y/N), I know Steven?” The man sighs, annoyed.
“Great. Fucking great, now there’s a civilian involved.” You don’t bother to correct him.
You wave your hands around. “Well, who are you? Why are you from Chicago?”
“Why are you Russian?”
“I asked first!”
“Fine, fine.” He raises his hands in surrender. “I’m Marc. Spector.”
Your target. The file scrolls through your mind. Ex-Marine, high ranking. Went AWOL and reportedly killed a whole team of archeologists and researchers. Born March 9, 1987. Not dusted. Suspected enhanced, unknown powers.
This just got a lot more complicated.
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miraculousficsarchive · 6 months
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Blueberry Sugar
Chapter 1: Not Exactly a First Meeting
🫐
Marinette busted her ass all day every day and no one could deny that. Having it be your parents diner and all, you'd think that would mean you could slack off sometimes. Marinette? No way. She put 100% of herself into this job regardless of what was thrown at her. She always said, "Being a waitress isn’t for the faint of heart". Between the teenagers that try not to pay, couples who fight, and old people who think they're entitled to free food because she got their order wrong -which she totally didn't do but whatever- it was hard to keep a smile on all day. Mari managed. And truth be told, the only thing that kept her going was her school. Every paycheck she got, most of it went towards her tuition. After all, the best fashion school in Paris wasn't cheap. Sure, balancing classes and shifts at the diner and superhero work is a pain in the ass. But if she could just break into the industry, this would all be worth it. All the disaster tables she had to clean, every child throwing food on the floor, and all the awkward old men hitting on her would all pay off. Don't get her wrong, being Ladybug is a dream come true and all, but it doesn't pay the bills.
So in the meantime, her home is DC's diner.
Her long hair was pulled into a large bun on top of her head, bright red ribbon keeping it in place. She smiled at the young woman in front of her as she paid her bill and left the diner. The second the door closed she dropped her smile and her head, leaning across the counter.
"Alyaaaaaa, I'm dead."
Her friend laughed from across the room.
"You and me both. Look at this mess. What's with kids throwing food everywhere? I think I stepped in macaroni."
Marinette perked up and examined the bottom of her own shoes.
"Gross."
After Alya was done cleaning the floor and Marinette had finished wiping countertops and tables, Alya took off her apron and said goodbye to her friend. Mari always stayed late to close up, partially because she's the only one that her parents trust to do it, and partially because she liked the quiet after a long day of noise.
As she said goodbye to the cooks and started counting the register, she heard the chime of the front door opening. Not looking up from the money, she called to whoever walked in.
"Sorry but our cooks just left. We're closing up."
"Awe man, I heard you guys have the best pie here. I was aching to get my claws on some."
Marinette's eyes whipped up to see big shoulders, blonde hair and cat ears.
"O-oh! Chat Noir!"
She quickly stuffed the money back in the register to count later. Fixing her uniform and hair, she motioned for him to sit at the counter. What was he doing here? Did he find her out? She thought he'd gave that up years ago. They haven't talked about secret identities in forever. Did he follow her here? He's supposed to be on patrol right now.
"We still have some left. What kind would you like?"
His eyes grew as he sat on the stool in front of the pie shelf.
"Blueberry, of course. Gotta start with the classics."
He flashed her his signature smile and she had to force her eyes away before they rolled into the back of her head. She grabbed him a slice and set it in front of him.
"Hope you like it."
He took a bite and looked her in the eyes.
"This is the most delicious thing I've ever eaten."
As much as she would try to deny it, her face started to show a hint of pink. She smiled and suddenly found interest in the strings hanging from her apron.
"Thank you. They're made in house every morning. The blueberry is my favorite to make."
He planted both hands on the counter and leaned forward.
"You made this?!"
She laughed and nodded, watching him shovel a big bite into his mouth.
"I'm glad you like it."
"Oh, now I've gotta try them all. How late can you stay open?"
Marinette put a hand on her hip and pointed at the menu on the wall above her. He followed her finger to see a list of prices for the wall of pies behind her.
"Heroes only get one free slice a day. You buying?
He gave a nervous laugh and his ears bent down.
"Oh. I forgot my wallet at home."
She crossed her arms and smiled.
"Sorry, Mr Noir. Our pies get donated to charity every night, and as far as I can tell, you're not needy." She gently poked his chest as she spoke, a little surprised with how firm it was. Was he flexing?
"You donate your pies? That's really nice."
She turned back to counting the money in the cash register to avoid his gaze.
"Yeah. We always have leftovers and it's not right to throw them away. We take them to the nearby community center and they're given to people that are struggling."
He looked at her as she closed the register and then scribbled on a piece of paper. She ripped it off and slid it over to him.
He picked it up to see an address.
"Feel free to swing by sometime. I'm sure they'd love to meet the famous Chat Noir."
He smiled and tucked the paper into his bell.
"I just might take you up on that, Miss-" he leaned in to read her name tag.
"Marinette."
Her heart skipped a beat when her civilian name fell out of his mouth. This was weird. Did she like hearing that? Surely not. He was annoying. A good partner? Yes. But still annoying. Why did she invite him to the community center? They shouldn't have contact as civilians. It's dangerou-
"Are you here every day?"
She realized she'd been standing there silent and nervously flashed him a smile.
"Uh, yeah. Just about."
"Well, it looks like I just found my new favorite pie place."
He walked to the door and waved as he extended his staff. He placed it on the ground and put one foot on the side of it.
"Goodnight Marinette!"
Fully extending it, he launched himself into the night sky.
Mari quickly ran over to the door and locked it, leaning her back on the door as if it would prevent him from returning.
"What was that!?"
🫐
Index | Next
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beann-e · 3 years
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Arranged Marriages With Stoic Guys
female pronouns used for this one !
“ y/n you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to “
“ are you stupid of course I have to “ you snapped at your father who stood hovering over you a slight smirk on his face “ eh thought you’d want to hear what you wanna hear “
you scoffed trying to push his arm off your shoulders this was all stupid you didn’t want to do any of this
“ honestly i’m doing what’s best for you y/n you need this — we need this “ he sighed “ I mean don’t you want to help your family and yourself think about how well set up you’ll be “his eyes went stone on yours “ you need this “
you flinched at the way his sureness slipped into his tone there was no way you were gonna get out of this “ no you need this there is no we right now “
his face hardened as he held out his arm for you to grab “ shut up and grab my arm “
“ i’m not going out there with you “
“ yes “ his voice was threatening and quiet “ you are “
“ I said im no— “
“ look you’ve been weighing this family down for years yet, we’ve said nothing— and now you finally have the chance to help us — to show you belong in this world and you won’t ? are you serious “
His face flew up into a look of annoyance “ you have no other purpose than to help us that is why you were born to be shoved into a family rich enough to secure your own and your families needs and now you mean to tell me you don’t want to do what you were created for “
your mouth snapped shut at his claims
“ are you that disgusting that you can’t even help your family “
you felt your body go cold as he continued to press into you
“ you preach how we’re the bad people yet you do evil shit like this“
he scoffed looking down on you “ i feel nothing but pure disgust to even have to go out there and call you my daughter “
he shook his head in disappointment before putting his arm out for you to grab again “ grab it “ his voice raised “ and you better go out there and put on that glorious look of innocence his father liked “
you gulped as he directed you quickly out the doors and draped the piece of fabric that you wore on your head. Placing it over your eyes and walking you down the aisle that had been so beautifully decorated
you were suppose to be getting married today not that you wanted to but, you had to.
you were the only girl in a family full of knuckle headed boys who just weren’t smart enough for an arranged marriage.
This was your fourth time being close enough to being married off though you hated the other 2 there was one that stuck out to you and that was number three
Your third boyfriend was one your family never liked they saw him as disgusting, vile, and too dirty with his language.
To you he was caring and open and rarely ever talked too harshly to you as long as you managed to never piss him off. You were happy with him and he was the only one you could ever see yourself settling down with until he told you He would take care of you and only you.
That was the nail in the coffin when you brought him over to dinner one night and out of the blue he spoke loudly so everyone could hear him “ look — with this whole marriage thing when I do marry your shitty daughter “
his eyes coming over to look at you and sending a look of reassurance your way making sure you knew he didn’t mean it. Them falling back to look at everyone around the dinner table who moved comfortably in their seats not caring how he talked to you as long as they would get to live lavish
“ i’m not taking care of you guys “ he scooped up the leftover food on his plate “ i’m only going out of the way for her and her only — the rest of you are on your own “
he shoveled the food in his mouth speaking carefully and making sure to watch his words knowing how serious he had to be with them in order for him to be heard by your parents “ you guys are using her for money and I don’t like that i’m not taking care of shitty parents and two brothers who act like they can’t even tell me how to spell yen “
him laughing and turning to your eldest brother a small smile on his face “ hey jerk face “
“ uh huh “ your brothers body wiggled in excitement to be acknowledged “ what’s up “
“ spell yen for me real quick “
“ babe don—“
“ shutup needa prove a point for your asshole parents “
“ hmmm “ your brother thought out loud as your other one jumped in the conversation “ hey dude what’s yen anyways “
your boyfriends mouth flying open as he slammed his hand on the table “ actually scratch that — i’m gonna pay for them both to go to elementary school and be two tall ass bodyguards that talk and say dumb shit like this to scare the kids into learning “
he pushed himself out of his chair kissing you softly before leaving the room. The door slamming as your father followed him anger swirling off his body at not only your boyfriends attitude for not wanting to help them but for coming in his house and making a fool of his family
you never got any of what your third boyfriend promised because he never got the opportunity to come back and your father made sure to have you cut off all contact with him.
So lucky you
free wedding , new guy
“ smile “ you felt your face do what you were told immediately as your feet shuffled down the aisle anyone could tell this was painful or at least anyone who actually knew you and not the 100 paid citizens of japan who sat in your wedding chairs
The guy you were marrying is a hero so, you can see how easy this is for him to pay for. He had to keep this little ordeal in the papers but only so, his father could stay relevant or at least that’s how they explained it to you no one explained that this was your e—
“ y/n“ your fathers voice was sharp “ take his hand“ you blinked finally realizing you were at the end of the carefully laid out carpet “ pay attention don’t make us look stupid “
you smiled carefully at the male before you dragged your foot stepping up and using his outstretched hand across from you “ thank—thank you “
it was silent which you immediately understood you knew he felt no need to talk to you ‘ maybe he’s not that into talking in public maybe he’s a private kind of person ‘
yeah he was so private that he said nothing but his I do’s and his occasional mhmm’s when you tried to get to know him with this continuing all night you never got to. This was all set up between his father and your own. you and him had no knowledge you were getting married today from what your father told you
“ so how— how is hero work “ you questioned as you two sat in the busy hall waiting for the doors to open up to allow people outside into the courtyard for pictures “ I hear you are one — a hero I mean “
you looked up to him as he faced forward his mouth making no attempt to move “ what really no it’s that hard ? “ you looked off speaking to yourself “ wouldnt think hero work could ever be hard“
“ did i just witness you ask and answer your own question “
your body shook as you felt heat rise up in your body your temperature high hands starting to feel sweaty “ oh uh “
“ if we have to get you checked for mental health problems i’d like to do so early “ he never broke his gaze from in front of him even when the doors opened “ I do not want to wake up with a knife to my chest or walk in on you talking to your imaginary friend after work “
you face dropped you understanding you were getting no where in communication with this man. You grabbed his outstretched hand and let him weave you carefully through the many people you didn’t know finally he stopped only to grip your hand tightly “ don’t move and wait quietly please“
you nodded your head as you watched him talk to the photographer guessing they were discussing where you were gonna take your pictures
“ hello there y/n “ you heard a booming voice say turning around only to bump square into a hard chest
“ or should I say daughter in law “ his voice scared you it was something about the way he was so sure of himself something felt wrong here
“ oh um do I— I know you “
“ of course you do “ he pointed to your new husband smiling “ you married my son an hour ago “
you shook your head uncomfortable with being left alone with now not only one person you didn’t know but also two plus a room full of people you couldn’t even name “ excuse me if I seem a bit “
“— lost , ditzy, bimbo like “
“ w-what bimbo? excuse me “
“ it’s ok as long as your quirk is as good as your father tells me I am fine with your intelligence level not being up to par my son is fully equipped with the knowledge to take care of a woman and provide like a man should “
“ I-“ you thought for a moment deciding on if you should go all out on the male that stood before you retracting into yourself when you thought of your father
“ oh y/n i know — it’s the bimbo tendencies? yeah here i’ll make it easier for you is there something you wanted to say“
you flinched at the statement smiling and presenting yourself happily as he smirked down on you ‘ he knows what hes doing ‘
“ no no nothing at all “ you said feeling his large hand pat you on your back “ good girl— get over there my sons kinda dense when it comes to talking to people “
you smiled to hold all the hostility in your voice “ yes i’ve seen so much of his density in our one hour together I find myself wondering how he can provide for me without proper communication skills “
the males eyebrow raising at your ability to speak back to an elder “ hmm he suffers with interaction due to lack of affection— childhood trauma as people your age like to say “
his smile tight and not fully reaching his ears “ I do expect that you’ll show him the proper amount of affection no matter if you got dragged into this or not “
you turned on your heel leaving the annoyed male to his own thoughts your hands coming up to interlock over your new ‘husbands’ shoulders “ hi shoto “
he bristled at your touch his shoulder moving to drop your hands as he pretended to stretch his arm in a small circle side eyeing you carefully alerting you to not touch him without permission again before he turned back to the male in front of him voice low “ I do not understand why I cannot take the photos the way I want to “
“ your father sai— “
“ their my spouse ? “ he was direct with everything he said “ it’s my wedding “
you could feel the questioning in every word he said voice low almost threatening the male in front of you “are you going to believe a 90 year old geezer who just found out beating kids is wrong or are you going to believe your beloved pro hero ? “
you could hear the teasing he held at the very end that even made you want to move just as fast as the photographer in front of you and follow after him
“ how do you want to take the photos y/n “ Shotos eyes looked down on you expectedly as you shook your head in confusion ‘ how did I end up picking our poses he wanted to change the generic one that was preplanned‘
you looked into his face as his eyes morphed into a look you couldn’t quite figure out “ i’m guessing you did this for me ? “
he shook his head slightly “ oh so you thought I would want something different from the basic ph— ok um “ you smiled as you turned to the front “ can we just do a um — maybe a hug but he hugs my waist that’s always a pretty marriage picture “
you moved to look back at him as the photographer agreed shoto moving carefully to stand behind you and wrap his arms around your waist hesitantly “ you can — it’s ok “ you felt as his shaky arms snaked around and sat in the spot that you guided them to your arms moving over them as your hands tried to soothe his jumpy ones
“ hey calm down “ you laughed “ just a picture — not me waging war on you family “
he looked down on your smiling face his own going through so many emotions not able to tell which one he wanted to show “ at least not the rest of them — your father maybe “ he watched as you turned back around the camera clicking as a genuine look of interest for you passed over his face
“ do you guys want to take another one “
“ um I think we’re good he doesn’t um— he doesn’t seem like a photo- e guy and i’m not very photogenic “
the photographer shook his head in understanding letting out a sigh of relief that he held as you moved to walk off your husbands grip tightening on you “ hey I — you can let go now sh— “
“ do you remember earlier “ he questioned “ when I told you to stay put “
your body flamed as you knew you’d done something wrong immediately feeling like you should try to defend yourself
“ why did you walk off “ his eyebrows furrowed “ how — why did you disobey orders “
“ I just—- I didn’t — your father— he — he came up and he— “
“ either way you didn’t listen you moved from the spot I placed you in” his eyes were staring holes into yours daggers really “so no matter who spoke to you — you were in the wrong “
“ I — it’s my body I can move “
“ yes you can in the spot I placed you “
“ I don’t even know you I don’t have t— “
“ that’s how it works “ his voice roared looking to the ground eyebrows furrowed as he was trying so desperately to understand you “ that is how it works in a marriage you listen to me —when I tell you to do something you do it and when I tel— “
“ no it’s not what — I” your face made up in confusion “ who told you these things —- this is ? i’m not a kid I am your wife now—we’re on two equal playing fiel— “
“ no “ you gnawed at your lip as he waited for a rebuttal seeing as though you had been answering him back after everything he said standing up straighter when he seen your tightly closed mouth “ i’m done with this argument I was just curious of something and you answered it “ he unwrapped himself from your body and turned to leave tugging at his suit
you not knowing wether to follow him or leave him be choosing the first option when he turned over his shoulder and stopped his movement
voice coming out short you were so confused with your new ‘husbands’ behavior he expected almost everything from you as if you could read his mind without words “ sorry — sorry “
he shook his head in understanding as he went to get his car from the valet opening the door for you as he opened his own getting in and setting himself up properly for a nice drive
your back hitting the seat hard when he took off your mind racing thinking this may be punishment for your words and anger towards him earlier.
‘ maybe he’s gonna play fast and furious while i’m In the car to get me to shut up ‘
“ I do not intend to scare you if that is what you are thinking “
he looked into his side mirror as he got over into another lane “ but I do intend to build structure where I see there is none “
you knew you should be quiet right now is not the time to fight for your rights in this new relationship not when he was driving like he’d never heard of a car accident
“ and I am not sure about you but I do feel right now is the best time to set that in place seeing as though I don’t know you and I doubt you even want to know me “
he waited on your answer “ when I stop talking that signifies you may speak “
“ sorry yes— no I do want—want to know you “
“ that’s interesting “ he sat back in the drivers seat as he eyed the road carefully slowing down a bit when taking in your answer “ i’d like to think that we were both forced into this “
“ ye-“
“ but that is simply not true “
your eyes refused to blink “ neither of us were “ he slowed the car down even more as he pulled into an underground parking garage “ you were handpicked by myself because I was asked to find a spouse to spark some uproar in the headlines or else i’d lose my title of number three hero and I am not too keen on giving that up right now with my father being number four and only living to climb the ranks “
he turned his car off as he turned to you “ i do not want to give him that enjoyment— “ he sighed “ you are not necessarily wanted nor needed— the only thing I can ask of you is to uphold this facade out there and i will give you and your family— everything i originally signed to in the contract“
he opened his car door as he stood fixing his suit again “ in here — my house you either follow my set of rules or you will be asked to leave and id honestly hate to ask you to leave “
you heart fluttered so he was interested in you
“ because then i’d have to talk to the media and I do hate when they ask me questions they have the material to supply themselves an answer with “
you heard the slam of the car door as you got out yourself hearing the two beeps from his car when locking it following him up the stairs as your eyes blinked several times
no
no no
no
you followed him up the elevator images flashing In your mind as you looked to the buttons remembering the number all too clear as he stepped out and onto the floor opening the door to the pent house your sweaty hands fiddling with the bottom half of your dress
“ shoto”
“ todoroki inside please my love — also “ he moved to his kitchen stripping off his jacket “ baby goes for me —my love goes for you in or out I don’t care — but do not overuse it — you will only annoy me “
you smiled softly trying to rush to ask your overwhelming question that was buzzing around inyour mind “ baby do you um— by any chance do you happen to have a rooma — “
“ who the fuck left the door open “ you heard the voice your ears had missed so much your body wanting to drop to the floor after hearing it “ shitty icy hot always coming in places and just leaving shit open— it’s like you don’t even know privacy “
“ well that is true I have never been awarded such thing as privacy I was off throwing up on tile after a long hard restless day of beatings “
“tch always so quick to spill your shitty trauma — wheres the bitch you set yourself up to marry “ he scoffed as you heard him nearing the kitchen “ marry for hire I mean “
shoto nodded as if the male could see it closing his fridge making his way over to you pushing you to follow him towards the loud deep voice “ she’s here actually though she’s going to be busy in a moment — you’ll have some time to meet her afterwards I promise “
“ god — if it goes on all night I swear — still can’t believe you hired some weird bitch to marry you and the whor—holy fuck “
Your eyes rose to meet his as you saw the tall blond drop his grenades he held in his gloved hands the loud clang echoing throughout the house “ my god I do ask bakugou if we’re going to stay together due to the department , that you do watch how you mess up our house , you have free range to destroy anything you want inside your own room “
“ shut —shut the fuck up ice tray“ his eyes narrowed on yours as he pointed at you “ this is the — the bitch you went to marry today — the one you picked out “
“ yes — I — is there a problem “ shoto turned to look you up and down “ though I did suspect some mental health challenges earlier i’m sure you can’t notice them up front right “
bakugous body shivered as he took a step back from you his body prepared to run
“ bakugou i’ve never seen you this “ your grip tightened on your dress pulling it up in the back hand dipping low to grab at your cell phone knowing you would have to call for help if he decided to be the bakugou you knew and kill you your ears listening closely as shoto spoke “ this afraid it’s quite eventful “
“ you— you dumbass “ he kept his eyes on you “ get the fuck out this isn’t the place for you— go back to your run down shitty cottage or something “
shoto stood confused as bakugou ran to grab you his hand tight on your arm his body stopping eyes made up in sadness face dropping as he felt himself wanting to scream and cry all at the same time. Hand only gripping harder onto your figure
“ what is the meaning of this —- I find this disgustingly rude — bakugou “
he shook his head eyes dropping to the floor your heart breaking he won’t even look at you that’s how bad your father screwed things up for you
Him pushing you away from him and towards the door as he spoke low hurt and pain ripping through his voice “ she’s gotta go “ his body moving to walk away “ now “ he screamed “ unmarry her or some shit—I don’t wanna see that bitch when I come back out here “
“ katsu— “
“ don’t you dare say my name not like that not with tears in your fucking eyes and sounding all sad and shit the last time you said it was the best time dont make me forget that shit “
your body shook in fear as his eyes weighed heavy on you shotos voice pouring out “ god bakugou please what are you saying your just being a bit of an— excuse my language my love but an — asshole aren’t you ? “
his body stalling when he thought back to a few moments ago “ wait how — how do you know his name “
your heart broke as you looked between the two men.
Just your luck that you would have to choose between a man who would most likely give you nothing but pure gentle love and supply your family the same only for one small thing in return or one that you missed so much every night you went to sleep
then again you would have no choice but to be married to someone that you’d already signed away your life to in a binding contract that stated your family and yourself would be very well taken care of and who were you to choose love over protection ?
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after-witch · 4 years
Text
Birthday Gift Part 2 (Yandere Overhaul x Reader)
Title: Birthday Gift (Part 2) (Yandere Overhaul x Reader)
Synopsis: You finally get up the nerve to ask your captor for a special gift--a birthday gift. Continuation of Birthday Gift Part 1.
Word Count: 3053
Notes: Yandere, emotional manipulation
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“Kai, there’s…” You struggle to find the words. You hadn’t exactly felt confident about your request before, but faced with his deceptively impassive gaze, it is difficult to muster the courage to even ask.
He raises his eyebrows, and waits for you to collect yourself.  
You take a deep breath and fold your hands neatly in your lap. You start to feel prim, good–deserving, even, of what you’re about to ask for.
“I wanted to ask about my birthday…”
His expression brightens--well, you think it does. You like to think that you’ve gotten good at reading his face over the past few months, and it’s helped you navigate your more… difficult moments. Emboldened, you continue.
“I want to see my mom.”
The words come out fast and unsteady. You wish your tone had been stronger, but maybe he’ll like that you don’t seem too demanding.
“Just for a visit, I mean,” you continue, looking to the side. You’re afraid to see his response. “Not forever or anything.” You scrape the bottom of your lip with your teeth, a quick and nervous gesture. “I just want her to know I’m okay?”
You glance back at his face and see that he looks… contemplative. Not angry, which is a plus.
Then, he sighs--in resignation, you think. And the thought is enough to make your heart feel like it’s jumping as you practically chirp at him from across the table. “Oh, thank you thank you! I promise it won’t be for very long, and, and maybe we could--I mean you could meet her, you know? If you want to?” You trip and stumble over your words, because you hadn’t had time to rehearse any farther than your initial request. You never imagined you’d get his approval and--
“Absolutely not.”
Your face falls and a knot develops instantly in your stomach. “Oh.” Your teeth gnaw on your lip again. “I don’t understand?”
You feel your cheeks heat up in humiliation and disappointment and suppressed anger as you watch his face go from impassive to--and you’re sure of it, this time--disappointment.
“I thought you had gotten past this, (Y/N). I really did.”
You swallow, thick and scratchy. “Past what?”
His eyes aren’t cold, but stern. The look he usually gets when he wants to lecture you. You don’t know if you can handle a lecture right now. “Past this silly desire to leave.”
The accusation stings, somehow. You didn’t say you wanted to leave. “That’s not--” you sit up straighter in your chair and force yourself to look him in the eyes. You want to be taken seriously, you want him to take you seriously. “I don’t want to leave.” (But you do, you DO.) “I just--I want to visit my mom.”
Your eyes flick around his face, searching for a sign of something. Compassion, pity even. But he keeps his look as paternalistic as before. Like you’re some silly girl who doesn’t know what she wants or what she needs, like you should know that asking for something like wanting to leave your captor’s fortress and visit your mom who thinks you’re missing or dead already rotting somewhere so she can stop worrying is ridiculous. You feel your carefully suppressed anger bubbling and you clench your fists until your neatly trimmed nails are pinching your skin.
“It’s out of the question,” he says. His voice turns softer. “It’s not safe for you out there. You know that.”
Your breath hitches. “But if you come with me, I’ll be safe, right?”
He smiles. But you know it doesn’t mean anything. “You’re always safe with me, angel. But I can’t risk losing you.”
You smile back, desperate, raising your shoulders up and leaning in across the table. “But you won’t lose me! You’ll be in the car--or in the same room or, or whatever you want! I’ll, I’ll--” your eyes flick to the table, trying to think of things that might appease him, might appeal to him. “I’ll stay by your side the whole time!”
Kai’s smile quirks slightly. It’s a mixture of pity and condescension now. Silly, silly (Y/N), it seems to say.
“(Y/N)… I gave you my answer. Please don’t drag this out any further.” You move to reply, and he cuts you off. “You can have something else for your birthday. New books. Some decorations. Something to start a new hobby, perhaps?”
You swallow again, but the look on his face and his tone tells you what you need to know: he won’t be moved, he won’t change his mind. You really are a silly, silly (Y/N), you think.
The tears that you didn’t know had built up spill over your reddened cheeks, hot and bitter.
“I want my mom,” you say, softly, bitterly. “I want to see my mom on my birthday. That’s what I want for my birthday.”
You wipe away fat tears and stare at him to see his reaction. He doesn’t answer you. He merely watches you, watches your breath hitching, watches the tears spill, silently. His mouth takes on a thin line, a look that says the discussion is over and that you’re being dramatic and ridiculous and childish and--it’s so damn domineering and hurtful that you want to scream.
Then he folds his hands together and rests his chin on them, like he’s waiting for you to stop having a tantrum.
That’s the tipping point. You can’t take it. You stand up, suddenly, and press your nails harder into your palm.
“I fucking hate this,” you spit. You search around blindly, looking for something, anything to release your pent-up anger onto. You settle for your chair, which you push onto the ground. It’s a feeble, ridiculous gesture, and you know this. The realization of how stupid you look makes your cheeks burn in embarrassment and you cover your face with both hands.
“I want my mom,” you force out. Your voice is tight and thin and scratchy. “I want to go--go get a pizza and watch a shitty horror movie in a shitty movie theater, I want to go to work and come home and do the dishes.” You sob into your hands as your knees buckle under you, and you collapse on the ground. “I want to leave.”
You sob uncontrollably until you feel a firm hand on your shoulder. The sudden touch flinches you out of your sobbing fit, and your hands jerk down, only to see Kai crouched in front of you. His gloved hand is on your shoulder, firm and grounding. You immediately begin to tremble as you realize what you just did. You had a fit and you swore and god, worst of all, you admitted that you wanted to leave. You knew what he would do--send you into solitary confinement. You’ll be all alone without books or baths and the fear makes you cry harder.
He shushes you, soft but commanding, and wipes away your tears methodically, until your cheeks are wet and empty.
“I know it hurts, angel. I know. But we don’t always get what we want, do we?”
You quietly tremble until your realize that he wants an answer.
“No,” you whisper.
His hand gently strokes your cheek. You can barely make eye contact.
“I take care of you. I make sure you’re healthy, don’t I?”
You don’t want to say it. But his questions leave no room to argue.
“... Yes, you do.” You can’t manage to bring your voice above a whisper.
“I give you plenty of things to do, ways to occupy yourself, keep you entertained?”
“Yes,” you force out. You want to shut your eyes.
“I’ve never hurt you, have I?”
You look away. The pause is uncomfortable. He hasn’t hit you, no, he hasn’t done the things you saw him do that night in the alleyway. But there’s more than one kind of hurt.
“No,” you finally whisper. You have no energy to argue. And you can’t go back in that room, you just can’t.
His finger lifts your chin until you look at him.
“Then you need to understand that I only do what’s best for you. That’s why you can’t have a visit for your birthday. You understand that, don’t you?”
You’re about to answer when his phone goes off. He swears under his breath and releases your chin before checking the screen. He sighs, clearly annoyed, and you wonder if the sender of the text message will end up in pieces.
“I have to leave, (Y/N). We’ll talk more before your bath tonight. Please finish your meal.” He picks up your chair and sets it upright. Then he holds out his hand, offering to help you up. You stare for a moment before taking it, and he easily hoists you to your feet. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze before letting go, and swiftly walking through the door to his office. You hear the lock click behind him.
You sit down in the now-upright chair and stare down at your plate. You hate it. You hate that he calculates your nutrition out as perfectly as possible. You hate that he sometimes gives you a tiny paper cup with less than a dozen M&Ms as a reward for being on your best behavior. You hate the frustrating realization that you do feel healthier, physically, now that you’re not constantly eating junk and have free access to fresh, healthy food.
You shovel the food in your mouth, barely tasting it. Your silent tears mingle with most of the bites, anyway. After finishing every bite, a wave of exhaustion crashes over you. You’re not supposed to take naps after a certain time, but arguing and hopelessness is too tiring to resist; you curl up on your bed and drift into unconsciousness quickly after.
You gasp as you jerk out of a cloudy dream that slips from your mind in seconds. It’s dim in your room, and you quickly realize that someone (Kai, of course, only Kai ever comes in) has turned off your overhead room light. You blink away your sleep and confusion. The bathroom light gives you enough brightness to see something sitting on your desk--an unassuming cream colored envelope.
You slide your legs over the edge of the bed and sit, staring at the note in the low light. In addition to your mind feeling hazy from an unplanned nap that likely went on for too long, you feel confused for another reason: Kai didn’t wake you up to get you ready for your bath. Or for bed. You glance at the clock kept securely high on the wall. It’s after bedtime. Yet instead of freshly cleaned and clothed in whatever nightgown he’d picked out for you, you’re in your day clothes and, you realize, slightly damp from sweat. The break in your routine is surprisingly disorienting.
As you waken up more fully, the dull ache of pain from his rejection of your request resurfaces. You push down thoughts of your mom and home and stand up. You might as well open the note. It’s for you, after all, and it’s something to do--something else new, in addition to the unusual change in routine. Something to distract you.
As you sit at the table, you wonder if you should just go back to bed. You don’t want to read the note, but that doesn’t stop you from carefully opening the little envelope--no spit-seal, of course, Kai would never--and unfold the note inside.
“(Y/N). I know it is difficult to adjust. You are doing so well. You may take your birthday trip next year, if you continue to behave so beautifully. You can do your own bedtime routine tonight. I will see you in the morning.”
You can feel your stomach curdling, the dinner you��d had earlier threatening to make its acidic way back up. Next year… another year here… with him. The realization that he doesn’t even consider that you could escape between now and then scares you. The realization that might continue “behaving so beautifully” scares you even more. You shakily set the note down, and rest your cheek against the cool desk.
You can feel sweat trickle down your back. Stress must have made your warm. You want a bath. He said you could do your own routine tonight, after all. But the idea comes with complications, the number one issue being the water has to be turned on by Kai--so you’ll have to ask him to turn it on when you’re ready. Maybe you could write a note and slip it under the door? But he might not see it, which means you’ll have to knock on the door anyway. The idea of taking your own bath, a bath of your own design, briefly animates you.
You quietly knock on the door to his office. It takes a moment to hear a response, and you briefly wonder if you should be doing this at all. Maybe he’s gone to sleep in his own room. Maybe he decided you were being insufferable and that’s why he didn’t want to do your routine tonight. Maybe he--
The door opens slowly, and you crane your head to get a quicker look at Kai as he comes into view. His mask is back on, and his eyes widen, just a touch. He seems… surprised?
“(Y/N)?” He asks, and you can tell by his tone that he didn’t expect to see you until the next morning.
“I was just wondering if you…” You fidget a little. You can feel your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “I wanted a bath.”
“Ah,” he says. “And you need the water turned on?”
You nod, and bite the inside of your cheek. “And the um, the stuff from the cabinets, too.”
“Of course.”
You hear him walk back into his office and retrieve the keys, which jingle slightly as he comes back to the door. You step out of his way and tentatively follow him as he walks in your bathroom, briefly glancing at the note he’d left on the way. There’s a strange anxious tension in the air that’s making you feel nervous, and you can’t shake the odd feeling that you’re being punished somehow, that Kai is annoyed or mad with you.
Even though he’s said nothing to that effect. He simply inserts the keys into the customized water panel and turns the water on for you. He then crouches down and unlocks the cabinet, taking out the basket of supplies--shampoos and soaps and little balls of bath bombs--and setting them on the countertop.
“You can use the hot or cold taps freely. Let me know when you’re finished and I’ll clean up.”
“Kai--” you say, without realizing it. It feels instinctive.
He looks straight at you, eyes impassive as ever. “Yes?”
His gaze makes you stare at the ground. You fiddle with your shirt sleeve. You don’t know why you say it. But it comes out quickly, softly--helplessly.
“Would you… would you set up my bath, like normal? And pick out my clothes?” You look up at him with what you hope are pleading eyes.
He raises his eyebrows.
“Please?” you say, barely above a whisper. “If you’re not busy?”
He waits another moment before answering you from behind his mask. “You want your normal routine?”
You nod, again chewing your lip. You feel childish, ridiculous, but… the routine has become comforting, and you want to be comforted. You want the dull ache in your heart to go away, even if it’s just for a few minutes.
The sight of Kai reaching up to take off his mask makes you want to cry. As he slips it off, you see he’s wearing a small, but approving, smile.
“Of course, angel. Now you just sit on your bed while I set everything just how you like it.”
You can’t help the weak, relieved smile on your face as you sigh and leave the bathroom, ready to sit on your bed and--as he wrote in his note, behave so beautifully. He wasn’t mad at you, he wasn’t annoyed, and things would slip back into normalcy any minute now.
The sound of the running bath, the promise of the gentle heat and rose-scented shampoo that awaits, covers up the pain in your chest. It makes it all the easier to rebury the awful realization that you’re well and truly trapped in this little world he’s created for you.
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glitxhwayventeen · 3 years
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A Different Kind Of Love…
Wonwoo: Chapter 3 (Save Your Tears)
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Characters: Wonwoo x female reader
Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, angst, fluff, cheating (again, sort of), FOOD mentions, Mood Swings. Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written.
Author’s Note: Here it is friends! A chapter with almost complete fluff. Who would’ve thunk huh? Anyways I hope you guys like the chapter. I had quite a bit of fun writing it for some reason…
Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!
Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts
Mostly domestic ☁️ & barely any 🥀
A Different Kind Of Love… Master List
Chapter 3: Save Your Tears
It had been exactly three months since you had been marked by Wonwoo and finally completely integrated yourself into your new pack. You hadn’t seen or heard from Song since that night, but you still felt VERY uneasy about the whole situation. People didn’t just get together the way you and your mate did and get a sweet happy little ending.
Wonwoo and you were doing great personally though. You now slept in the same room, ‘slept’ together, and just all around loved each other. You were starting to have a hard time remembering what life was like before you had gotten attacked by that angry mob now that you were with him. He made time stop and fast forward all at once. Everything seemed to go on forever and yet so quickly when you were with him. And you loved every single second of it. Even if you had a hard time showing him that sometimes.
You were downstairs in the kitchen making breakfast for all the boys, someone had to. They literally could not seem to take care of themselves even if they were grown ass men. So you kind of took on the part of den mother to them, you were the only responsible girl they had around after all. None of the Alphas had mates yet, in fact, no one older than Jihoon had found theirs yet. It was only the younger ones. And while their mates were great, they just very much acted like their wolf counter parts, which meant fun all day everyday without a second thought. So that left you being one of the few, other than Seungcheol and Joshua, who knew when enough shenanigans was enough. You didn’t mind, you liked having a big family again.
Many of the boys reminded you of your brothers. Especially Mingyu, who ate and played just as much and as rough as they did. It caused the both of you to become very close, even to the point where he felt like one of your biological brothers, he reminded you a lot of Mako. And of course, Wonwoo was absolutely delighted that the member he considered his best friend and his mate got along so much. He trusted Mingyu around you more than anyone else, so much so that he refused to even let you leave the house without either Gyu or himself by your side.
You had been having your nightmares again which was relatively normal for you. However, Wonwoo had started having them himself, which as a seer was very much not normal or good in meaning in anyway. He wouldn’t tell you what they were about, he always said you didn’t need to worry or be bothered with them as there was nothing to mention. But the way he clung to you, and the way he forced Mingyu to stay with you when he couldn’t, started having you think that maybe things weren’t as alright as they seemed…
You still just brushed it off, trying your best to just enjoy your little honeymoon bliss with your mate and continued to flip pancakes. Everything would work out. That’s what your voices said, so that’s what you believed. Soon enough, your mate had woken up to an empty bed and marched his way downstairs with a pout adorned on his face.
“(Y/N), why are you downstairs stirring batter instead of upstairs snoring in my arms?” He let out in an annoyed huff as he came to stand beside you, watching your actions with playfully narrowed eyes.
“Because Wonu, 1.) everyone will need breakfast soon and I hate that Seungcheol’s always left to be the one to do it and 2.) you take forever and I hate waiting for you to wake up. And HEY I do NOT snore!” You ranted, smacking his toned chest with your free hand in the process, the other firmly gripped onto your whisk as you made more mix for more pancakes.
You had gotten comfortable with him to the point of joking. Which not only made you proud, but made Wonwoo’s heart soar. He was glad he could coax you out of your shell a bit.
“Yeah yeah sure. And Soonyoung isn’t a little sexual deviant.” He chuckled and kissed the top of your rat’s nest covered head.
“Hey! I heard that!” Soonyoung shouted from his room in the higher portion of the house.
“Yeah I know.” Wonwoo smiled, dipping his finger in the batter you had just added some strawberry syrup to to add more flavor and plopping it directly into his mouth.
“Whatever that weird stuff is is good. But don’t think I’m still not upset that my mate left the bed without me this morning.” He assessed, sitting himself down on the counter next to you while you started pouring batter onto your skillet.
“Well get over it my love. It’s not the first time it’s happened and we both know with the way you sleep, it’s not gonna be the last. And my pancakes are not weird! They are delicious.” You declared, flipping a newly heated pancake over so it’s other side would begin to cook.
That’s something he had come to realize about you: you were always very prideful of being able to do household things well. And certain things like your hair for that matter. You always had high personal standards, though you only seemed to hold yourself to them as you didn’t care if anyone else lived up to them, just you. He chalked it up to your tribe’s old family centered traditions. He thought it was cute, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t tease you a bit about it.
Wonwoo smirked and bit his lip at the gratification you showed in your cooking, “They are. They’re still weird as shit though. Who puts the syrup INTO the batter?”
“I do. It makes them taste better” You insisted before you put the finished pancake with the rest of the cooked stack you had managed to create before your mate came to bother you.
“You know maybe you just don’t know how to cook.” You pointed at him with your spatula in a teasing manner.
“Maybe not” He shrugged, ducking his form down a bit to get closer to you, “But I DO know that when you’re done cooking them, you’re just gonna eat them plain like a freak.”
Just as he finished his sentence, half a dozen wolves made their way into the kitchen. You hadn’t even realized anyone other than Soonyoung was really even up yet do to you focusing all your senses and attention on your mate. That had taken you a lot of practice as, in the wilderness, you had to pay attention to everything and everyone around you.
“Mmm smells good (Y/N), what’s cooking?” Seungkwan questioned as he fought Soonyoung for a seat that was positioned closer to the food.
“Pancakes. I made loads of them” You stated, looking towards the two bickering werewolves before you and turned the stovetop off.
“And it is NOT freaky to eat them without syrup. Lots of people do it. Plus, the extra syrup’s so sugary it’s been making me feel sick lately so I would rather just eat it without to avoid it.” You spoke to Wonwoo, who had finally brought himself down from the counter and sat himself down on a chair to grab food with the other boys.
He just laughed in response to your stubbornness and pulled you to sit on his lap with a kiss to your cheek, “Whatever you say baby. I still think it’s weird to eat a plain pancake.”
It had taken you quite a while to warm up to this kind of PDA. When you first came to them, something like that would have you wiggle your way to sit alone and have to hide your burning cheeks. You’d really come a long way. Well, at least with Wonu
“Oh yeah no that’s suuuuper weird (Y/N). You may be a sociopath.” Jeonghan chuckled as he plopped another large bite of a pancake into his mouth, smiling.
“Yeah that’s weird as shit. Who the hell eats a plain pancake?” Soonyoung snickered, shoveling a whole syrup filled circle into his mouth.
“Look, what do any of you know? Most of you had never even eaten a pancake before I came around because Koreans don’t typically eat them for breakfast. So shut up!” You spit out, your feelings starting to get hurt at the constant teasing of the others.
“Who’s the weirdo eating plain pancakes?” Joshua, the American, asked from the stairs as he slowly made his was down towards the rest of the pack to eat.
“Well the Westerner thinks it’s weird so…” Chan said with a shrug and a shit eating grin.
The boys all busted out laughing, some so hard they had to hold their sides. Wonwoo started to choke a laugh back into your shoulder as you sat there and folded your arms over your chest.
“You guys suck. I try and be NICE to you and I get laughed at for my eating habits. I don’t want to have to sit here for this” You huffed, getting up from your mate’s lap and walking upstairs to your shared bedroom, closing the door a bit louder than you probably should’ve when so many people were still sleeping.
“Damn, what crawled up her ass?” Hansol, who you had stomped past on the way to your room said, finally getting himself situated in the kitchen.
Wonwoo let out a frustrated sigh before he stood up from his place, grabbing a plate of pancakes in the process. He was still trying to figure out when his teasing was too much for you. And he probably would’ve been fine had the others not decided to join in. You liked them, you did, but you weren’t as comfortable around them just yet. Them taunting you probably really upset you and he was just the dumbass who let them continue to do it.
“Me. I’m an idiot. I’ll go talk to her and see if I can get her to come back down.” He said as he begrudgingly made his way to the stairs, slightly kicking himself internally for upsetting you over something so little and stupid.
-
Once he made it to your bedroom door, he tried to turn the handle, only to realize it was locked.
“(Y/N)? Baby? Can you please open the door?” He whined out, not realizing he had upset you to the point of you wanting even HIM to leave you alone.
You always wanted him around you. Even when you first came to the pack, you still would rather be near him. Even when he was with Song, you still liked having him close by. Even when you were angry at him, you’d rather be angry at him with his arms wrapped around you than be angry at him alone somewhere. You never locked the door. His inner wolf groaned at the thought.
“No.” You bluntly spit out, wanting him as far away from you as possible and trying to suppress a stomach growl all in one go.
“I brought pancakes…” Wonwoo all but sung out, having heard your angry stomach and knowing damn well you would give into him if he had food.
After hearing a small groan from the other side of the barrier, he heard a little click of metal before the door swung open. In front of him was a very angry looking you, your cheeks were stained with tears and it caused a small whimper to emit from his chest. He had caused you to cry and it crushed him.
You had your hand out in expectancy as he had promised sustenance in exchange for entry. He dutifully handed you the plate and closed the door behind him. He watched as you scarfed down a full pancake in one go. Damn, you were more hungry than he thought.
“What do you want?” You sniffled at him once you had cleared your airway of food.
You sat the plate down on the nightstand before you stood and turned your attention back to your mate, grabbing another pancake and taking small bites in the process. You were never really this hungry or ate this much, but when you got sad lately, you just felt like eating. Probably not the best habit, but you weren’t that good with your feelings, you always just followed your instincts instead. They always kept you alive, and right now they were telling you to eat, so you ate.
“I wanted to apologize baby. I didn’t mean to upset you. It really was just a joke. I didn’t mean to make you cry. You’re not weird. Plain pancakes are fine. I should’ve just kept my big mouth shut.” He groveled, wrapping his arms around your small frame.
“Yes. Yes, you should’ve.” You agreed, finally swallowing the remains of your food and crossing your arms in annoyance, slightly leaning away from his touch to wipe your tears away.
You wanted him to touch you. God, you wanted him to touch you. But you didn’t want to give in so easily, because once you gave in, you knew he’d get all smug and then you’d want to punch his smug face. You wanted him to genuinely feel bad before you crashed your lips to his and ripped each other clothes off. It was only fair.
Wonwoo could smell the wetness already beginning to form between your legs. He suppressed a smirk threatening to appear on his face for getting you this worked up by literally doing almost nothing, but he knew being cocky wasn’t a good way to get you to stop being mad at him. So he stuck with his original plan: begging for forgiveness.
He easily lifted you up and secured your legs around his waist, holding onto your back so you wouldn’t lose your balance and fall, “I really am sorry. I won’t do it again baby. I promise.” He spoke as he leaned his forehead against yours with his best pout, tugging at your heartstrings.
You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to contain your excitement for what was about to come, but failed miserably and let a happy smile creep up on your lips. You locked your hands behind his head, giggled at him and bit your lip.
“You’re forgiven. This time. BUT you have to make it up to me.” You decided, eyes looking up for a moment in thought to tease him. He slowly started moving towards the bed that was in the center of the room before he spoke up.
“And how would you like me to make it up to you baby?” He said as he began kissing your neck softly, trailing around your mate mark with a grin plastered on his face.
“Well for starters, you can fuck me senseless until I forget what I was even mad at you for to begin with.” You confirmed, tilting your head to the side to give him a bit more access to your exposed neck.
“With pleasure my love.” And with that, he fell to the bed with you in his arms, careful not to crush you in the process before he got to work on his promise.
(Updated 8/23)
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ghostlywritten · 3 years
Text
If Only I Had Stayed In The Shadows - Chapter Seven
James Potter x OC
Words: 6k
Prologue  Chapter One   Chapter Two  Chapter Three  Chapter Four  Chapter Five  Chapter Six
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"Where have you been last night?" Alice asked as I sat down at the breakfast table the next day.
"Eh...with James," I mumbled, stuffing my face with cinnamon rolls as hers, Marlene's and Lily's eyes bulged in shock.
"What?" Marlene exclaimed, dropping her cup, "Already?"
I furrowed my eyebrows, "Yeah?"
She smirked widely, "You little...who would have thought you to be so quick?"
"Quick with what?"
"Letting him pop your cherry of course!" Alice giggled along with Marlene whilst Lily and I went beet red.
"We did not do that!" I protested, shaking my head vehemently.
"Aww, why not?" Marlene pouted into her cup.
"Because I ain't that easy," I retaliated, shooting her a look.
"What? You think I'm easy?" she asked, peeved.
"Well, you do get along with boys very fast," Alice pointed out matter-of-factly whilst Lily nodded next to her. Marlene grumbled under her breath, "Can you blame me when they basically throw themselves on me?" She flipped her hair and I smiled at Alice's giggling.
"How was your dinner with Potter then?" Lily asked suddenly, keeping her eyes on her porridge with intent.
"Quite nice, actually," I replied, my smile widening as I remembered last night, "We talked about a lot of things until it got way too late."
"Boring!" Marlene commented, causing the red head next to her to snicker. "Is that everything?" Lily asked amused and I raised my eyebrows in confusion, "Have you at least kissed or something?"
"Well, no. I didn't want to," I defended myself.
"Oh please, who doesn't want to snog him or the Marauders in general?" Marlene rolled her eyes, "Except for Lily perhaps." Said person's smile dropped an inch before she composed herself. "Exactly. Seems like he is not that into you, after all." I tried not to frown at her words but that stung quite a lot. So what if we hadn't kissed? Was that even normal on a first date? In fact, I hadn't even known it was a date until the end. I couldn't help but feel insecure now, keeping quiet as Lily awaited my answer. Guilt slowly spread on her face when she noted the hurt I was trying to hide.
"When is your second date then?" Alice asked, breaking the sudden silence between us after she shot a knowing look at her green-eyed friend.
"Not sure," I shrugged, rolling my breakfast around on my plate. I didn't feel like talking about it anymore so I changed the topic, "Marlene, what's up with you and my worst enemy?"
"Oh Adrian!" Marlene immediately perked up and started chatting about her shenanigens, successfully giving me a reason to not talk anymore until breakfast was over and we left for class.
"...and he can be surprisingly sweet. Like that one time we were alone and I was so frustrated because McGonagall scolded me again for not getting a spell right...," Marlene kept blabbering whilst we sat down for History of Magic and I almost regretted opening that Pandora Box of a mouth - just kidding - as she gushed about the boy I resented deeply...on the Quidditch pitch. Outside of it we simply ignored each other, really. I sighed, thinking about how I actually had to get along with him after Christmas when he became a part of Team A.
"Alright there, Cec?" James plopped down on the free seat next to me and I blinked. Glancing back, I noticed Sirius settling next to Remus and Peter sitting beside some Ravenclaw bloke. Weird.
"You're not sitting with Sirius?" I asked in surprise.
"Now, why would I want that when I could sit next to you?" he asked with a grin but raised his eyebrows at the squeals emitting from Marlene and Alice in front of us.
"Cheesy," I commented, trying to regain control of my racing heart.
"Only for you," he winked. What a liar. I knew for a fact that he had always been cheesy. Especially when it came to a certain red head, who right now kept glimpsing over her shoulder at us. Her words from breakfast earlier caught up to me and I wondered once again about our 'boring' first date. I had not even for a second thought about our night that way but what if he did?
Shooting a look at the handsome boy next to me mindlessly chatting about some prank he was preparing whilst taking out his stuff I tried to detect any sign of boredom on his features. He was gesturing animatedly with his hands, which caused him to take longer than necessary to get his books out. It appeared like he was having fun. His brown eyes were sparkling even in the dim light of Professor Binn's classroom and I noticed the golden undertones in his rich-coloured irises. In fact, there were a lot of things I was suddenly noticing in that moment; How his glasses kept slipping due to his excited movements, forcing him to nudge them back up on the bridge of his slightly pointed nose, how his dimples popped up from time to time, accentuating his boyish features in an adorable way and how he ran a hand through his thick hair...every five seconds.
"Oi, Cec. Are you even listening?" the boy in my thoughts complained as he flicked my forehead.
"Ouch, yes I am," I said, rubbing the sore spot. Thank Merlin, he snapped me out of it though, I was getting near obsessed with the analysis of his features.
"Seems more like you were obsessed with my looks," James said with a wolfish grin and I did everything in my power to keep myself from turning into a tomato.
"What? I wasn't!" I almost shrieked, busying myself with my stuff erratically, "You just have a booger on your face, that's all."
"Sure, Cec," he replied offhandedly but I grinned as he tried to inconspiculously rub his nose. "So, I was thinking that the Hogsmeade trip next weekend could be our second date," James suggested and by now I was a master in controlling my spit to stop myself from choking on it whenever he randomly decided to make my heart burst.
'But that meant that he did enjoy our first date, right?' I thought, feeling slightly hopeful as I opened my mouth to agree.
"Hell no," Marlene made a sliding tackle, turning around in her seat, "She can't." I shot her an incredulous look whilst Alice kicked her under table.
"Why not?" James asked, as clueless as we all. Though he looked so cute being clue- Merlin, I was whipped.
"Hogsmeade is a traditional girls' trip," Marlene said matter-of-factly, "You don't want to break a three-year long tradition, James. Trust me."
"I guess not...," he trailed off, probably weirded off by the threatening looks Alice and I were shooting at the brown-haired beauty, "Well, some other time then, Cec."
"Sure," Marlene answered for me again and I was almost speechless.
"What the hell was that?" I immediately bombared her as soon as class ended and I saw the last of James' and his mates' heads leaving for lunch.
"Yeah, what did you do that for?" Alice wondered, "Why would you prevent a second date?"
"Yes, why?!" I asked almost hysterically, "That's probably the only boy in this school, who would be interested in a second date with me," I started slapping her arm with each word, " and...you...rejected...him...because...of...a...tradition-"
"Ouch! Merlin, stop!" Marlene backed away from me, hiding behind Alice.
"-that doesn't even exist!"
"Excuse me, the Hogsmeade trips were always our thing," Marlene pointed out.
"Yeah, as long as you didn't have a date!"
"Irrelevant details," she waved off and I wished I could say her blatant disregard of her hypocrisy would be a new thing, "Besides, I was doing you a favour."
"A favour?" I furrowed my eyebrows, "How does scaring an interested boy away doing me a favour?"
"You are being too easy on him," Marlene said and I could feel the beginning of one of her dating lectures, "You have to make a boy work for you, Cec. Make him prove he is worth your time before you give in. That's what keeps them interested in you. They like a good chase but you were just going to hand yourself in for the next date at the first try."
"You have a great way of making me feel like a slut," I commented dryly.
"You are welcome," she grinned back.
"I wasn't being sirius," I almost groaned, resisting the urge to slap her again. I was being unusually violent these days, "So what if they like a good chase? I've been chasing boys in my dreams for years and quite frankly I'm just glad someone as nice as James wants to go out with me again."
"Nice? James?" Lily snorted, speaking up for the first time since class, "He's rude. And mean. Just look at all the pranks he pesters people with."
"He's just joking," I said, though it was only half-heartedly. I knew he was just joking but even I had to admit through my 'lovesick' eyes that his pranks could be quite cruel. Lily just scoffed, probably having read my mind. With her skills I wouldn't put it past her if she had already managed Legilimency.
"James is the textbook example of boys chasing girls," Marlene continued as if our side-conversation didn't even happen, "Look at how long he chased Lily for without rest-"
"Yeah, and then he gave up," I pointed out, watching the red head shift inbetween her steps.
"-I know, but the point is. He chased her for years! He likes this game." Marlene placed a hand on my shoulder, "I'm telling you; let him chase you a little. Not for too long obviously, but enough to keep him on his toes."
I tried to dismiss her words as crazy but in some kind of twisted way it made sense. And she was more experienced and especially more successful in terms of boys than I ever would. Who was I to argue against her?
"That's the most ridiculous-" Alice started but I cut her off.
"What do I do?" she gave me a shocked look whilst Marlene grinned thriumphantly. Throwing an arm over my shoulder, she started leading me towards the Great Hall for lunch.
"Alright, the first step is called 'Ignoring Him'," Marlene started, walking into the Hall, where the students were busy shoveling their mouths with food and chatting about nonesense, "You don't want to appear as desperate as you have this whole time-"
"I wasn't being desperate," I said indignantly.
"But you were easy," she countered, "Always immediately responding to him. Going on a first date without even a little resistance. Staring at him like a puppy-"
"Okay, okay," I relented before throwing her a look, "I should probably feel creeped out with your stalking."
"But you don't because everyone does a little bit of stalking," Marlene remarked and I had to agree...internally, "Luckily for you, I planted the first step by preventing that second date you wanted to immediately agree on," she gave me a reprimanding look my mother would be proud of, "Now, what you have to do is this: Whenever he tries to initiate any kind of contact, you give him your most disinterested glance that lasts precisely 1,5 seconds and give him the shortest amount of words in only one sentence that you can manage."
I let her words sink in, "Siriusly? 1,5 seconds?"
"I've never been more sirius in my life," Marlene said siriusly and I was strangely convinced.
"Trust me, it works," she said as we walked along the Gryffindor table and I noticed we were nearing the Marauders.
"If you say so...," I muttered, wondering how to do that as James looked up with a grin, turning slightly in his seat.
"Hey, Cec. Do you want to sit-" he started.
"What's up, James?" I waved at him without looking as we passed by to settle a few seats away.
"Oi, that was not bad for a beginner," Marlene praised impressed as we sat down and I almost didn't feel ashamed at the pride that filled me at her words. "Now, don't even dare glance at him once. I will count how many times he looks over."
"Alright." To say, lunch was torture was an understatement. Who knew it could be so hard to not look at someone when you were precisely forbidden to. Human nature; always craving the forbidden. It was natural to say I heaved a huge sigh of relief after it was over.
"Fifteen times!" Marlene squealed as we left, heading towards Herbology, "He was staring almost constantly."
"It actually worked?" I asked in surprise and even Alice nodded.
"Yeah, he seemed pretty confused," she commented and his adorably clueless face from earlier flashed through my mind. I sighed blissfully.
"Of course it worked!" Marlened boasted, tugging my arm into hers, "Girl, I'm gonna make you irresistable."
"Where have you been my whole life?" I asked and we giggled, causing Alice and Lily to shake their heads at us with small smiles.
December came and the first half of the month passed by in a blur of Quidditch, Hogsmeade, avoiding James for fun and dreading the upcoming break. I had yet not received a single letter from my parents as expected but now that the day of my doom was heading closer, I was starting to regret the Gryffindor bravery in me that had decided to write them in the first place, happy that the school would be protecting me from their wrath for at least a few weeks.
"Come on, they can't be too angry," Lily reassured, watching me pace around the dorm. Marlene had started packing a bit of her stuff before bed, which once again reminded me of the school break and I had started to walk around nervously, "It's not like it's your fault that Madam Pomfrey won't take any interns."
"You don't know my parents, Lils," I replied, my voice wavering, "They will find some way to blame me for it." She gave me a pitying look over the book she was reading on her bed.
"But you know that you are not at fault," Alice tried this time as she braided her hair, "That's what counts."
"I don't know, maybe I should have tried harder," I mumbled even though it would have been pointless anyways.
"You bribed her with Honeydukes," Marlene pointed out as a row of clothes were magically folded into her bag. I always wondered why she needed that many clothes if she probably had ten times more at home. "If that didn't work, nothing will."
"I guess, you are right," I sighed, plopping down on my bed and burying my face in my pillow, "I wish I could just stay at Hogwarts."
"Don't say that," Lily reprimanded me, "You should be happy, you have a family to go home to." Her voice softened slightly, "Not everyone does anymore." It went silent as we all let her words sink in. We knew what she was hinting at; people were missing, the newspapers were filled with deaths and strange marks on the night sky. The world outside of school was becoming darker and gloomier, our hearts growing heavy each time the owls flew down from the ceiling of the sky and a student once again ran out of the hall in tears.
No one wanted to talk about it, refusing to let it take over our minds but...we were all scared. Deep down, the fear for our family and loved ones was planted in us ever since we were old enough to know that the word 'War' was not just something you read in books and in past tense. It had been in our presence before we had even started school, a Dark Lord rising up from the shadows.
"I think, I'm gonna head out for a bit," I broke silence, the room suddenly stuffy and lacking air.
"Where are you going? It's past curfew," Lily wondered softly, still in her own mind. She had a lot to worry about, her parents being part of the main targets; Muggles. My heart squeezed harshly at the fear that she couldn't quite mask in her green eyes as she usually did and I wished I knew what to say to help her.
Smiling faintly, I picked up a book, "Just to the Common Room for some reading. You girls go to sleep." They bid me 'good nights' and I waited for them to settle in their sheets before I waved my wand to dim the candles.
The Common Room was empty as usual around this time and I settled down in front of the fireplace, opening the book on my lap. Sighing quietly, I tried to ignore the heavy feeling in my chest as I dove into the story, letting my mind focus solely on it to escape reality for at least a little while.
An hour must have passed before the portrait of the Fat Lady swung to the side, light shedding from the hole. But no one came in. Puzzled, I stared at the hole until I heard the slight padding of several feet, causing my eyes to widen in panic. 'What the hell?'
Suddenly James' head appeared out of thin air and I bit my lip just in time to prevent an ear-piercing scream. "J-James? Wha-"
"Hey Cec," he greeted me sheepishly, Sirius head popping up from behind him and this time I did yelp a little.
"You alright there, Grant?" he asked with a grin as if it was normal to stand around with just a head and the rest of his body missing.
"Can we get out now?" Peter's muffled voice reached my ears.
"Oh, yeah. Sure." James threw off what seemed to be a cloak, revealing three of the four Marauders.
"Uff, finally," Peter breathed out a sigh of relief, "I swear it gets more and more stuffy every time we get under it."
"It's because, your stomach gets wider and wider," Sirius teased, prodding his belly, "Relationships make you lazy, Wormtail."
"Do not," he pouted, causing the taller one to ruffle his hair.
"Come on, let's head to bed," the dark-haired handsome boy announced with a yawn, stretching around comfortably as if it nothing out of ordinary had happened.
"Right, good night, Grant." Peter waved at me, Sirius echoing him as they passed by.
"You guys go ahead," James called after them, his friends waving him off as if they had already known.
"Care to tell me what just happened?" I asked, momentarily forgetting that I was supposed to ignore him.
"Oh, Cec. You should know of our nightly adventures by now," James said off-handedly.
"Not that," I rolled my eyes, pointing at the shimmering cloth in his hand, "I mean that."
"Oh this?" He held the cloth up, light reflecting from it slightly. I wouldn't know how to explain it but that cloth practically oozed magic, "This is an Invisibility Cloak."
"You...have an Invisibility Cloak?" I asked incredulously, eyes shining wide.
"Sure, I do," he said proudly as he came closer, plopping down on the couch next to me. He raised his arm, "You wanna try?"
"Hell yes!" I immediately snatched the cloak from his hands, standing up to dive under it, "Can you see me? Can you see me?"
"Obviously not," James chuckled, squinting in the direction he presumed me to be. I was glad I was only wearing socks as I slowly moved to his other side. "Boo!"
"Woah!" he yelped, jumping an inch as he whirled his head around, a hand on his heart, "Bloody hell, woman!"
I snickered, letting the cloak fall from my head. "This is so crazy!" I remarked as I looked down at my nonexistent body, "No wonder, it's so easy for you to sneak away from any trouble."
"Hey now," James said offended, "It takes a lot of skill to keep quiet under that cloak. Especially if three others are under it with you."
"How does that even work?" I wondered, spreading my arms to test the length of the piece of cloth, "It looks too small for you alone, already."
"Yeah, to be honest our growth spurt has been an issue for a while now," James stated, puffing his chest as he felt his biceps, "Can't help the muscles."
I rolled my eyes. "Sure."
James giggled, his manliness dissovling into nothing and I grinned at his cuteness. "It still works for now." He lifted the hem of the cloak and draped it over himself. My breath hitched at the sudden proximity, his chest only inches away from my face. I had to crane my neck to look up at his only to see him stare down at me with his hazelnut brown eyes, the cloak dimming the lights outside. Sweat was forming in my palms and I hoped he couldn't hear my pounding heart.
"See, you and I fit in here, too," he said softly and I imagined his hand brushing against mine ever so slightly, "We could go anywhere we want now..."
"To the kitchens," I suggested, slightly breathless.
He chuckled quietly and my heart sang in joy at the sound, "Or the Quidditch Pitch."
My eyes lightened up at the suggestion. I had never flown around the pitch in the night. Or over the Black Sea or around the towers of Hogwarts. Just imagining the cool air and the darkness of the night with merely the moon illuminating the world made me sigh blissfully.
"Or Hogsmeade if we need to go to Honeydukes," I thought out loud before I gasped in realisation, "That's how you always got the sweets before the first trip!"
"Busted," James grinned, feeling a sense of pride at the admiring look on my face.
"That's so exciting...," I commented quietly, a smile on my face as I grasped the cloak between my thumb and index finger, feeling the satin touch, "All the awesome things you can do with this."
"You haven't even heard half of it," James remarked with a sly grin before his features softened, the warmth pooling from his eyes, "...We can do all of that together...if you want."
It took me second to detect the slight hint of insecurity in his face as he nervously awaited my answer. Biting my lip to keep myself from grinning too wide I squealed internally. This was probably the first time he kind of asked me out for real instead of just swiping me off to a date as if it were obvious I would say yes.
I wondered if I should decline this time as well like my inner-Marlene was screaming at me to do but one glance at his hopeful eyes made me nod almost eagerly. He rewarded me with a wide smile, his eyes crinkling slightly in excitement. "Shall we go catch up on our Hogsmeade date, then?"
My eyebrows rose, feeling slightly unsure. It was in the middle of the night after all and I had never snuck out of the castle before. "Eh...should we, really? It's late and-"
"Come on, Cec," James soothed and this time I knew I wasn't imagining the brush of our hands as he slightly cupped his around mine, his thumb stroking the back of my hand, "I've done this a thousand times already and never got caught. You can trust me."
I gave in, figuring we wouldn't get caught as long as we stayed under the cloak. "Where could we even go? Everything should be closed by now."
"The Three Broomsticks are always open," James responded as he led me out of the Common Room. I shivered slightly in my pyjamas but welcomed the fresh air in the hallways, the wide open windows letting in a cool breeze from time to time. My heart skipped a beat once again as James draped his arm around me, keeping me close for some warmth.
"Have you forgotten you are a wizard again?" I asked teasingly, pointing at his wand. I knew he could easily cast a Heating Charm. I would have done it myself but my wand was on my nightstand. Come to think of it, it was probably not so smart to walk around without a wand but in my defense I had no idea I would wander around the castle at this time.
"I haven't," James replied easily as he led us down a set of staircases, "But maybe I just want to get closer to you." I blushed deeply. "Especially after it's been so long since you were this accepting of me."
"I do not know what you speak of," I said ignorantly, though I felt nervousness built up in me. Marlene had not told me yet what I should answer if I were to be directly confronted about me playing hard-to-get.
"You've been ignoring me," James stated indifferently but I noticed his jaw clenching as he fiddled around with his wand.
"Not true," I mumbled, quickly changing the subject, "What are we doing on the fourth floor?"
James narrowed his eyes slightly and I knew he would only let me off the hook for now, "There is a mirror at the end of the hallway."
"So?" I pressed as we reached said object, startled slightly that I couldn't see myself in it due to the cloak. 'And here I was hoping to check my appearance,' I thought to myself, brushing a hand through my tangled hair strands, 'Marlene would kill me if she saw me right now.'
"This little mirror hides a way that has led us to a lot of adventures already," James announced gravely as he flicked his wand, causing the mirror to swing to the side and reveal a dark hole in the wall. I raised my eyebrows in surprise, "Does this-"
"Lead us to Hogsmeade? Yes," James confirmed, ducking out of the cloak and casting a silent 'Lumos'. He squinted in my direction before he pulled off the piece of cloth from my head, smiling. "Keep it on, it's gonna keep you warm." And with that he climbed up the secret passageway.
"You could still cast a Heating Charm," I said into the hole before I climbed it up as well, slightly weirded out by my visible hands with my invisible arms. James waited for me, already a couple of feet ahead. I looked back at the mirror. "What about the entrance? One of the Prefects might se- nevermind," I mumbled as he shut it with a swish of his wand.
"When did you learn to cast nonverbal spells?" I asked in wonder as we trudged through the way.
"What can I say? I'm just naturally talented at everything," James boasted unashamedly and I rolled my eyes at the over-confidence oozing from his every pore.
"Alright, Mr. Superwizard," I relented, "Where is this passage leading to exactly?"
"We are underground right now. The passageway will lead us out through a gully near the Three Broomsticks."
"We are going through a sewer tunnel?" I asked, looking down at my socks, "You do realise I don't even have shoes on."
"You do realise I'm a wizard, right?" James retaliated with a grin over his shoulder.
"That's questionable sometimes," I muttered, glad it was dark in the tunnel as my cheeks felt on fire. Finally, after about ten minutes of walking and occasionally dipping into the wastewater (disgusting) James directed the light of his wand towards a ladder. Climbing it up, I was greeted by the sight of snow, wind and the small huts in Hogsmeade.
"Wicked," I breathed, taking James' outstretched hand as he helped me up and took the cloak from me to reveal the rest of myself. I immediately started shivering violently, realising how warm the cloak must have kept me. James took off his robe this time, draping it around my shoulders. "You gonna look dumb to people when you walk around here in pyjamas," he explained before casting a Heating Charm.
I shot him a look, "Who was the one suggesting this out of nowhere?"
"Who was the one agreeing on this?" he asked back as he rolled his Invisibility Cloak into a ball and tugged it under his arm, "Now, come on. Let's get some Butterbeer."
I breathed a sigh of relief as soon as we entered the pub, the wind finally ceasing to smash my hair into my face every five seconds. One glance around showed me how empty this place could be in comparison to Hogsmeade weekends where you could hardly find one empty chair.
"James Potter," Madam Rosmerta, the owner of the pub, greeted us from behind the bar where she was doing some cleaning, "What on Merlin's grave are you doing here again at this time?"
"Madam Rosmerta," James greeted chivalrously as he led us over to her, "Just taking out my future girlfriend for the best Butterbeer worldwide."
"Future girlfriend?" I questioned with a raised eyebrow, trying not to blush at his wink.
"Best Butterbeer worldwide? Well, aren't you a charmer?" Madam Rosmerta commented, shooting a grin towards me as well, "Almost as bad as your other friend. Black, was it?"
"Sirius, yes," James laughed.
The woman shook her head as she took out two pewter tankards to fill them with her infamous butterbeer, "Over-confident, little boy. Too handsome for his own good."
"Sounds like him," I remarked, causing her lips to twitch in amusement.
"Oi that's my best friend you are talking about," James complained as he paid - to my embarrassment - for both of us since I had no money on me. He took the tankards with a thanks before turning to me again, "But you are right." I giggled at his statement before we went to take a seat at the windows, Madam Rosmerta shouting a "If you get caught, I had no idea you were here!" after us.
Settling down, I cupped my tankard with my hands as I glanced at the boy in front of me, suddenly nervous. It had been a while since we had been alone, I was almost not used to it anymore. But James being James knew exactly how to break the silence as he started chatting about how he found out about this passageway and the way he had managed to convince Madam Rosmerta to let them occasionally take a drink here with his friends.
He had begged.
"So, enough about that," he eventually ended though despite his constant talking I had a feeling I could listen to him forever. He had a way with his words and the excitement in his voice that could keep anyone interested in what he had to say. It was an admiring trait actually. I probably sounded like Professor Binn's whenever I talked. "Tell me what's been keeping you so busy that you actually dared to ignore me for so long?" he asked with a teasing tilt in his voice to indicate he wasn't being sirius.
I had a feeling he would confront me about it again, but I had hoped he wouldn't tonight. "Eh, you know. School stuff," I muttered, taking a sip of my drink to prolong my answer. When he still waited for more, I got a little defensive of my lie, "You know, some people have to actually study for their grades."
"Oh please," he waved me off, "You could pass every class with your eyes closed. You are just too scared."
"What makes you say that?" I asked with furrowed eyebrows.
James gave me a look, "Everyone knows you are smart, Cec. Everyone but you," he poked my forehead with a soft smile, "You just get crazy about exams. Like Evans."
I thought back on all the study sessions Lily and I had at the library or the Common Room right before the exams, frantically trying to get everything into our heads. "I guess..."
"It's not like you need to start this early. So, will you just stop studying too much and spend time with me again?" James asked, giving me his puppy look. I resisted the urge to immediately say yes, thinking back on what Marlene had taught me.
"Well..."
"Exams aren't due until a few months. Why would you need to study already?" he almost whined and I cringed at my own lie. Too be honest, I hadn't started studying outside of class besides the assignements we had to do. I was surprised he had actually believed that but then again, I had been spending a lot of time snoozing in the library to escape the onslaught of rumours.
"I guess, I can skip a few study sessions," I feigned a thoughtful look and he beamed, "Or you could just study with me." He deflated.
"Studying is boring though."
I was just glad he thought so, too.
"Not if we make it fun," I pointed out and he gave me a sour look, "You sound like Professor Flitwick," he stated, causing both of us to laugh. We spent the rest of the night talking and catching up on each other's life. We talked about the most irrelevant nonesense but also what had been going on outside of Hogwarts. He stated that his parents were both purebloods but he was still worried they were in danger because they refused to support the Dark Lord. My parents were both magical as well but my mother was Muggleborn, which made me worry for her safety even though she was mostly at work and St. Mungo's could be considered almost as safe as Hogwarts. We ended up trying to reassure the other and I was surprised how good he was at it, filling my heart with ease during the time we spent together as he switched back to a more lighter topic.
I realised how much I had missed these casual nights together and him...I had especially missed him. A lot. It was crazy how much a few months with him made me want to be around him all the time. I had been able to stay away the few weeks due to the exciting imagination of him chasing after me but now that I noticed what I had been missing this whole time I could curse myself for declining him everytime he suggested to hang out or do something together. In a way, what Marlene had taught me had worked against me; now, I was craving his presence more than ever.
"This was great," James sighed, stretching his arms over his head in content as we walked down a hallway to the entrance of the Gryffindor Tower, daringly without a cloak. It was almost 7 am, the others would be starting to wake up. I couldn't believe we had managed to stay up a whole night simply talking.
"Yeah," I agreed, smiling at him as we went through the portrait hole and stopping in front of it. The Common Room was still empty, the fireplace burning with new vigor. The woods must have been replaced sometime over night. I wondered briefly if the Elves were also responsible for that.
"I missed this. Let's do this again...sooner?" James asked almost insecurely and I nodded immediately this time, not wanting to play Marlene's way again. This night showed me that I had just been miserable the past weeks without him.
Looking up at him I opened my mouth to bid him goodnight but his intent gaze made me shut it back tonelessly. His eyes were burning with new vigor just like the fireplace, hazel eyes flickering with gold as he glanced slightly over my shoulder before he drew close, closer than under the Invisibilty Cloak and took my hands in his. I stook stockstill as he leaned down, his forehead grazing mine. "Can I kiss you?" he whispered and hadn't I been so close I probably wouldn't have heard him.
My throat went dry and I barely managed a nod before he placed his lips on mine, blissfully unaware of a pair of green eyes.
Chapter Eight
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whumpmatsus · 3 years
Note
Ooo my bad, maybe Jyushi gets a stomach ache and Kara tends to him? Giving him water or something to ease the pain. Or getting him to lay down and rest!
aaaaaaa I love them 😭
-
To be completely fair to Karamatsu, his choice of restaurant isn’t really to blame for Jyushimatsu’s appetite.
In fact, it’s debatable that even Jyushimatsu is to blame for his appetite. It’s more the fact that he just eats so fastthat it would be a miracle if his brain registers that he’s had a whole meal before he goes back for more. Typically by the time he processes that he’s full, he’s had two or three more servings.
It’s no wonder that he often ends up with a stomachache if he’s given the chance to inhale more food than he really should. Most of the time, though, it quiets down after a little bit of relaxing and maybe a tummy rub from one of his brothers.
Of course, while the two of them are out at a fast food place, it’s not like they can just lie down in the middle of the floor and try to chill. … Well, they could,but they’d probably end up getting kicked out before making any significant progress.
So the second Jyushimatsu gets a little pale and complains that he’s not feeling too well, Karamatsu’s first immediate thought is along the lines of, We’re fucked.
And in Jyushimatsu’s defense, Karamatsu should have been a better big brother and cautioned him against ordering as much food as he did. Even if he had, however, what else could he have done except give a warning? Jyushimatsu’s an adult, it’s his money from the allowance Dad gave him, and he can make his own choices, can’t he? Or at least he should be expected to. He probably wouldn’t take being bossed around and told what to do, and it’s not like anyone can forcehim.
As usual, though, Karamatsu has let one of his little brothers down. The least he can do is try to make it up by figuring a quick way out of the situation. He springs to his feet, setting a hand down on Jyushimatsu’s shoulder. If they need to move fast, he should be prepared. “Alright, you don’t feel well. Understood, dear brother. Is it your stomach?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Alright… how bad does it feel?”
Jyushimatsu ponders the question for a second, before holding up both hands, covered by his condiment-stained sleeves, over his mouth. “Um. Gonna… gonna throw up.”
Shit.Karamatsu knows his little brother wouldn’t say something so decisive without knowing that yeah, he’s about to hurl. “Alright, let’s get up. Do you want to go to the bathroom here or try to make it to the car where I believe I have a plastic bag?”
It almost looks like he’s considering the possibility that he could make it to the car, then suddenly his face turns a bit green. “― Bathroom!”
That one word combined with his younger brother’s urgent expression and tone of voice spur Karamatsu into action. He moves like lightning, pulling Jyushimatsu to his feet and practically dragging the other man toward the tiny partition on the other side of the counter.
A three-part harmony shriek of horror tells him he probably should have paid more attention to the signs on the doors. He offers a hasty apology to the offended ladies inside as he yanks his brother away from the door. (Although he knows Jyushimatsu is desperate, even this kind of emergency doesn’t constitute staying in the women’s restroomto puke.) As soon as he does, Jyushimatsu gags into his hands and Karamatsu knows they don’t have much time. Once Jyushimatsu starts making audible sounds like that, the full event isn’t too far away.
“I-it’s alright, it’s alright,” he tries to reassure as he tugs Jyushimatsu into the men’s restroom. “If you can wait a second, we’re nearly there!”
He does his best, but they never even make it into a stall. Once the door closes, Jyushimatsu stumbles toward the mirrors… and proceeds to vomit into the sink. Geez.Karamatsu feels himself wince at the thought of the poor worker making like ¥100 an hour who’ll have to clean this up.
Well, he can’t focus on that part right now. This can’t be pleasant for Jyushimatsu either, obviously.
The sound of everything he’s just eaten splattering against the edges of the sink is no match for the way he’s retching and sputtering. It looks like he started out trying to brace himself with both hands clutching the countertop; now, he’s sunk to only having his elbows propping him up, both hands up against the side of his head.
Karamatsu sets a gentle hand on his brother’s back, trying to be of some little comfort while his entire meal comes back up. Though he can’t remember Jyushimatsu ever eating himself sick like this before, he supposes it was bound to happen sooner or later with the way the fifth oldest tends to shovel food down.
He wants to think this memory of his stomach turning itself inside out will serve as a lesson to slow down in the future. To be mindful of how fast and how much he’s eating. Even someone as hopelessly delusional as Karamatsu has to acknowledge that’s a long shot, though.
After a moment the gagging and heaving finally dies down. Jyushimatsu is left gasping as he tries to get his breath back. When Karamatsu peeks over, he sees that there are tears starting to roll down his little brother’s face.
That earns an extra few seconds of back-rubbing from Karamatsu out of pure pity that this was either emotionally draining or physically forceful enough to make Jyushimatsu cry. “Aaah, my little Jyushimatsu,” he hums. “Does it feel a little better now that you’ve been sick?”
He nods weakly. “A little. I… think I ate too much, Karamatsu-nii-san.”
“Hmph, I think so, too.” Karamatsu reaches over to grab a handful of paper towels, pressing them to Jyushimatsu’s mouth. “Next time you might eat a bit slower or listen to your big brother telling you not to eat so much. But… it’s alright. What else are big brothers for, but to care for their younger brothers? I think perhaps we should go home.”
“Mhm, yeah. I wanna lie down and snuggle a pillow against my stomach.”
Well, that certainly sounds like a plan. “Alright, then. How about a drink for the ride home? Something easy to settle your stomach.”
“Ooh… Sprite?”
“Mh, I think they have that.” He gives an affectionate squeeze to Jyushimatsu’s shoulder. “Will you be okay by yourself for a moment while I go get that and dispose of the trash we left on the table?”
“Yeah, mhm. I’ll hold onto the counter.”
Ah. Yeah. That’s a relief. At least it’ll keep him from getting dizzy or passing out if he tries to move on his own. “Good! I’ll be back before you know it.”
Karamatsu can’t apologize enough to the person working at the counter of this place, telling them that his baby brother threw up in the bathroom sink and he’d clean it up if he could but he should get his brother home just in case andalsoasmallSpritetogoplease?
For once, he can kind of understand why people think he’s painful. The cashier has this blank look before muttering, “Excruciating…”and ringing him out for the drink. He kind of wishes the floor would open up and swallow him and he’s pretty sure he now knows how Ichimatsu feels when talking to people all the damn time. He’s surprised he doesn’t just burst into flames from the sheer awkwardness.
After a bunch of apologies, he manages to herd Jyushimatsu into the car so they can head home. He does find a plastic bag for his brother to hold, just in case he feels like throwing up again, just until they get back.
To his credit, Jyushimatsu is calm as can be on the ride home. He sips at his Sprite and closes his eyes so he doesn’t feel motion sick and hums along quietly to the radio. He’s so cooperative Karamatsu wants to ask who the hell he is and what he’s done with Jyushimatsu.
When they walk into the house, he ushers Jyushimatsu through the main rooms, up the stairs, and onto the couch in the spare room. The others save for Totty are spread out among the floor; Choromatsu and Osomatsu seem to be reading, and Ichimatsu has a cat cradled up in his arms… wrapped in one of Karamatsu’s shirts. Fantastic. Nothing like cat hair all over his clothes so he’ll be all itchy and sneezy when he decides to try and steal it back.
As he tries to get his brother set up on the couch, Choromatsu seems to fully realize what’s going on. “Oh, hey, you two are back. That was pretty fast. Uh… is Jyushimatsu okay?”
Jyushimatsu waves his hands in the air. “I threw up!”
“Tch.” Ichimatsu shifts in position, stretching one leg out. “That’s what you guys get for going to a shitty burger place. Next time just eat here where the food’s free and won’t make you hurl.”
Karamatsu plops down onto the floor in front of the couch, and is promptly slapped over the shoulder by one of Jyushimatsu’s jellylike arms. “Hmph… as I’m still spectacular, you should already know it wasn’t the food. Sweet little Jyushimatsu just ate too much of it.”
“Geez,” Choromatsu chuckles as he gets up, “someone’s eyes are bigger than his stomach. Well, you guys are home now, so you can relax and maybe start feeling better.” He brushes a hand over Jyushimatsu’s stomach and earns a soft mewl of gratitude before pulling away. “How about I make you some ginger tea?”
Karamatsu moves to get up almost immediately. “Oh, no, Choromatsu, I’ll get it! All the rest of my dearest brothers were already relaxing, so allow me to―”
“Nooooooooo,” Jyushimatsu interrupts with a whine, pulling him back down with now both arms. In a. Very. Tight hold. “I want you to stay with me, Karamatsu-nii-san!”
“Ah…! Okay, alright…” He tries to take a breath and pats lightly at his brother’s hands. “A-ah, my sweet little Jyushimatsu… let go… ahahaha… b-big brother’s not going anywhere, I promise, so you can let go of him!”
“Aaaaaah.” Jyushimatsu’s arms go lax, though he starts tugging on Karamatsu’s hand while his brother tries to get a decent breath in. “Belly rubs?”
“Hmph… sure, anything for my dearest younger brother. Just let me know if I’m being too rough; I would never want to hurt you.” He adjust himself so he can still be in a comfortable position while being able to reach Jyushimatsu’s stomach, giving tender strokes as well as he’s able.
The door slides open and Choromatsu gives a quiet hum at the scene. “Well, you both try to chill out, then. I’ll go get that tea, alright?”
“Heyyyyy,” Osomatsu suddenly speaks up. “Can you make some for me, too?? Or maybe a beer? I’m thirsty!”
All he gets in response is the sound of the door shutting.
The eldest pouts. “Hey, I know you heard me!! You’re such an ass! Grab me a beer, Fappymatsu!!”
Karamatsu lets out a low laugh and continues to carefully rub at his little brother’s stomach. “Hmph, so things are totally normal around here. At least that’s a comfort, isn’t it, Jyushimatsu?”
“Ah-hah! I’d feel weird if we got home and everyone was being all nice to each other.”
“Heh.” He leans his head back with a soft sigh. “That’s right. You only need onebig brother to be nice to you and that’s me. Any other requests besides the tummy rubs, you beautiful bastard?”
Jyushimatsu giggles and nestles his head closer against Karamatsu’s. “Hmmm… nope! I think I’m good just like this.”
Karamatsu closes his eyes. “You know… I think I am, too.”
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give-grian-rights · 3 years
Text
Bets Against The Void c5
@petrichormeraki bet you forgot I even had this fic ! Thank you again for the gift that is Whitelist AU, which feels like a lifetime ago (For Tommy it was !)
Chapter 1 Here
Last Chapter Here
Next Chapter Here
and AO3 Crossposted!
Ask to tag and give me a headsup on any typos ! c!Tubbo in my interpretation is they/them and blind.
The Hobbit Hole was more than Tommy expected. Birch-and-spruce windows poked out throughout the hillside, a round entrance carefully carved from the wood. Poking his head inside, the blond’s eyes darted across the spruce-built interior skeptically.
“..Thanks.” Tommy halfhartedly grumble, pulling his hand off the entrance. He warily stepped in, his hand resting on the doorway entrance for a moment as he investigated for potential traps.
“You’re..Sure we can just- stay here?” Tubbo asked once more, their head turned back towards the dirty blond stood aside the messy front garden.
“Of course, I swear, I don’t need another place to hoard stuff! Chances are, I’ll only be out here if I finally get around to moving my villagers out of their old setup.”  The older brit confirmed once more, his tone light. “Seriously, it’s not a big deal. Promise.”
Hesitantly nodding, Tubbo offered an appreciative smile his way before they turned back towards Tommy. “How’s it looking, then, Big Man?” They hummed, tilting their head.
“Fuckin’ cool as shit-” He glanced around, apprehensively surveying the ground for any traps.
“It needs a bit of cleanin’ up,” Stress chirped, sending a lighthearted glare towards Grian as he stuck out his tongue with a snicker. “We’d all be happy to help.” She finished, with a warm smile.
Tubbo politely nodded. “I think we’ll handle it. Thank you, again.” They ran their hand over the wooden arc in the entrance.
Grian shook his head. “Really, don’t worry about it. Stay here. Get settled. Either of us may be over to check up. Across the lake’s my neighbor, Scar, who you might see. But he shouldn’t come around here.” 
With a bit of exasperation, ready to be left alone, Tommy wordlessly nodded as he bounced his leg. 
Clearing his throat, Grian nodded. “Alright, then we’ll be out. We’ll see you two soon. Cya, Stress, thanks for the help!” He dipped his head towards the short brunette, who grinned bubbly back.
“See ya! Bye, loves.” Stress cooed, before deploying her glowing skeletal wings and ascending off with a quick poof of smoke.
Instinctively when the item had come to her hand, Tommy had thrown his arms around Tubbo’s ears- an action that didn’t go unnoticed by the sandy brunett man.
Grian simply put his hands up pacifying, as Tubbo was shrunk back curled, shielded away from where the brief poof was. “They’re duds, almost all fireworks here are duds.” He had calmly spoke, his tone soft. “I’ll come back to check up on you guys soon, ‘n make sure you have the supplies you need. You have free reign of that base!” Were his parting words, before he trotted off into the woodland.
Tommy uncurled himself from Tubbo. “You good, Bigman?” The blond tilted his head.
“Yeah,” Tubbo chuckled halfheartedly. “It doesn’t really.. Scare me it just- it startles me? Hearing it? ‘Cause I don’t really have time to prepare myself for the noise..Even if it’s not the same as- the kind from. Then.” Their voice wavered for a moment, before they took a shuttering breath. “Yeah, I’m fine, Man.”
“..Mhm..Alright.  Well, this set-up is better than just ‘bout half the shit on’ the SMP.” Tommy diverted the subject, sweeping his foot over the top of the floor, watching the small streak it left beneath a thin coat of dust.
Tubbo tilted their head. “Really? It smells..Very dusty-” They sneezed into their arm, sniffling. “I.. feel like it might need a bit of work, yeah?”
The blond boy shrugged. “Yeah.. We can see ‘bout gettin’ a towel wet or something and wiping all ths shit down?”
Humming in agreement, Tubbo felt around, listening to the words their Comm robotically had been reading off.
“I’ll see ‘bout findin’ shit. They’ve gotta have wool in some of these chests,”
With a bit of digging,  the two teens had gotten to work. Not everywhere in the practically abandoned place was dusty or dirty. A small lush crevice was fresh and clean- or, relatively so. Bright feathers had littered the area around it. A path from a window seal, which had been opened, and to said crevice was nearly spotless of debris outside of such molting feathers or a few leaves.
Now without dust on the outside, the two messed with the chests, rummaging through what could be found.
..Which was a lot. Just not in the places they had expected.
Out of the chests they had searched through, they managed to find almost a doublechest full of various stacked enchanted books-
“How..How did he just leave all of this here?” “Well, he has enough he defenitely won’t notice a few gone!”
A totem of undying in a michalanious chest-
“Woah.. WHAT THE SHIT..” “Dude… This is.. A gamechanger”
A golden apple held by an item frame-
“Finders keepers! This counts, its on a chest.” “Sick!”
Bafflingly, a diamond in the food chest-
“What the actual shit. WHAT THE ACTUAL SHIT-” “What? W- WHAT? WHY?”
Two enchanted, nearly broken bows with enchants- “Better than nothing, I’ll see about combinin’ them unless you feel like pinnin’ the tail on the donkey.” “..Sounds like a good plan, yah.”
And in the middle of the room, a chest with an enchanted diamond axe-
“..Fuck. Wow- There’s just a wholeass enchanted axe! What the fuck is the point of the itemframes if theres no system here?”
“Whats it enchanted with..?” “..Fortune? What a waste. Uhh, some efficiency, too.”
There wasnt much in the main storage room, but they werent quite willing to push their luck and explore too far. At least not until they got some food and set up some sort of gameplan.
The two teens distributed some of the loot they scavanged, damaged iron armor going to Tommy, a shovel to Tubbo and a spare shovel to Tommy, The totem of undying to Tubbo, and the two diamonds they scavenged turned into a diamond sword for Tubbo as well, with the axe and golden apple going to Tommy.
They turned their focus to food. The two sat beneath the support pillars against the walls, taking the time to eat  a handful of watermelon slices.
The wall of chests ahead of them had been broken, exposing the opened window with feathers trailing from it. It was an oddly live scene in the otherwise abandoned wooden hole.
Neither of them quite enjoyed the feeling of being holed in, or the small nature of the wall-home. Nor did either teen mention it.
Tommy explained the varying entrance ways from the mainroom. They had decided on splitting up soon, letting Tubbo find a place to dig out a room for the two of them, with Tommy going off and rummaging through more chests.
Tubbo found a dead-end room beneath a spruce-log room on the second story, and had begun trying to carve it out, as the other teen worked through more and more chests.
The blond eventually worked his way outside and into yard infront of the entrance, rummaging his way through the bits and pieces- the best so far, being another golden apple which he happily held onto.
Half way through his second chest, something caught his attention- or, more like, he caught something’s attention.
A blue, yellow-cheeked bird had fluttered around him, its head quirked curiously as it stared him down. Tommy shrinked.
“What the fuck do you want?” He squinted at the parrot as it lowered itself down onto the top of the open chest, hopping along the edge.
“F⚍ᓵꖌ!” The bird cooed in responded incoherently, chirping at him.
Tommy paused, eyes lighting up in realization. “Oi! You’re the one that flies into the house, huh?” 
In response, it turned it’s head away, nodding. “Hobbit!” It shrilled.
As Tommy had opened his mouth to respond, the hobbit himself, Grian, had flown down, sweeping down with a soft thud.
“Sorry! Uh, Professor Beak has a little spot in there. He likes to go n stay there most days, its a lot cozier than the mansion,” The older Brit chuckled apologetically, putting out his hand for the parrot. 
The blond boy snorted. “‘Professor Beak?’” He’d raise a brow.
The named bird chirped, stepping onto Grian’s wrist without hesitation. “Professor Ellen Taurtis Beak!” It cooed, its voice mimicking that of Grian himself.
It was… A strange display, to be sure.
Sheepishly, Grian hummed, running his spare hand through the bird’s feathers. “They may try ‘n break back in, they’re a pesky bird like that. I’m sorry for bothering you, though. You two doing good?”
“..Hm,,Yeah, thanks. Are you..Like, fuckin’ aware of all the stuff you’re leavin’?” Tommy eyed the strange man, folding his arms.
Grian merely gave a shrug. “Not really? But that just means they’re nothing important. If they help you both get started, they’re yours.”
Huh. Well, that was easy enough.
“..Right. Cool. Bye.” Tommy watched the man, as he easily nodded, striding off with his bird held by his chest.
The blond let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.
“..This place is fucking weird.”
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chaseatinydream · 3 years
Text
pirate king (27) || atz
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You’ve learned that Hongjoong’s determination knows no bounds.
Because a week after that terrible little fiasco, he and Yeosang have gotten straight into planning how to slip into Nassau once again.
“Are you serious?” You had asked them, leaning over the map that they’re studying as you brought their dinner to them, Seonghwa’s masterpiece, beef stew. Hongjoong takes the bowl from you gratefully and starts to shovel the food down his throat, never once looking away from his map.
It’s a map of Nassau Island, with several navigational notes to it that you don’t understand, talking about tides, depth of the ocean and what not. Yeosang is pointing out a patch of map off the eastern coast of Nassau that is painted a darker blue than the rest.
“We could drop anchor here.” Yeosang says, gesturing to it. “And have two people take a rowboat out to the beach that Chin Hae and Wooyoung swam to the last time. They could retrace their steps from there.”
Captain nods as he studies the map intently, but his brow is furrowed. “I worry about the tide, though. It should be coming in, but anything could change.”
Yeosang shrugs, taking his meal from you with a grateful smile. “Thank you, Chin Hae. We can’t really do anything about the tide, since nature itself controls it as it will, but that’s a risk Seonghwa will have to take.”
Hongjoong nods once. “It’s final. This is what we’re going to do..” The navigator gets up, rolling the maps and tidal charts up, before giving you a quick smile. “I’ll go over the plan with Seonghwa, then. See you, Chin Hae!”
His fingers grasp yours as he leaves. Ever since the two of you had brushed death hand in hand, you find his fingers have instinctively begun seeking yours. It’s cute, the two of you are almost like twins now, two people cut from the same cloth.
The door swings shut behind you, and then you and Captain are the only two people left in the cabin since the time the crew discovered you are a woman.
Your captain looks at you for a moment as he unconsciously flexes the fingers of his right hand, the one he had crushed after San had told him of Yeosang’s condition.
It occurs to you that since waking up, you haven’t apologised to him yet.
You muster up all the courage you have in you, bowing before your captain deeply.
“I’m sorry, captain.”
Hongjoong must know what you’re apologising about, because his face stiffens a little. Then it relaxes, ever so slightly as he reclines in his chair, San having healed the damage done to his back during the week you were unconscious.
He opens his mouth to speak.
“I don’t accept your apology.”
Your heart stops in your chest. He doesn’t… accept your apology? You lift your head just a little to stare at him, and he gazes back it you, green eye firm and unyielding. When he speaks again, his voice is gentle, a little sad, a little hurt.
“I need to know why you lied to me, lied to all of us. I could have understood if you’d told us you were hiding the truth from us because you were afraid that we would leave you behind if we found out about your identity, but after you became part of our crew, there is no excuse, Chin Hae.”
All sorts of emotions swirl in you, the most prominent one guilt. You’ve hurt your captain, lied to the crew, and now you need to give them an explanation, except that you have none that makes sense.
“I…” You begin hesitantly, fingers fiddling with the hairpin at your belt. Its touch is cool and comforting, even if the man who gave it to you hasn’t said a word to you since you woke up. “I was afraid at first. Afraid that if you found out who I was, you’d leave me behind. But as I started to grow closer to all of you…”
The words choke in your throat.
Hongjoong’s expression is soft as he urges you to continue. “Go on.” The dam in you breaks, tears slipping past your eyes as the feelings that you’ve kept in so long spills out of you.
“I didn’t know how you’d react! I saw how all of you trusted me as one of your own and I was so afraid what you’d do if I told you I had been lying to you the whole time! I didn’t want you to be hurt, I didn’t want you to hate me! I just wanted to keep being Chin Hae, your crewmate! And now, everything has changed!” A sob leaves you and your eyes squeeze tight, unable to look your captain in the eye. You don’t want to see the look on his face as he tells you that this is a stupid reason, that you should have just come clean at the start.
But he doesn’t.
There is silence for a moment, then the scraping sound of a chair behind pulled out. You hear soft footsteps on the cabin floor approaching you, and for a moment, you’re actually afraid that your captain might hit you.
Instead, two warm hands come to rest gently on your shoulders.
“What has changed?” He asks softly. You look up in shock to see your captain’s faces mere inches from yours, so close that you can count the stitches on his eye patch. You’ve always wondered why your captain needs an eye patch, just like how you’ve questioned why Wooyoung always wear shirts with longs sleeves even on the hottest of days and why he wears shackles around his wrists like a slave. But this isn’t the time for those questions.
“I don’t understand-”
“Nothing has changed.” Your captain tells you firmly, not a trace of doubt in his voice. “You are Choi Chin Hae, you are and have always been since the day I gave you that name. You are still part of the Treasure, part of my crew, one of my family. Even if you are a woman, a clay one, instead of a man of flesh, neither of those things change for me.”
Warm tears run down your eyes. You finally have something you had been searching for your whole life, a family who loved you like no other.
“Why I wish you had told us earlier… is because we could have protected you better, made your life easier on this ship instead of having you live a lie.” Hongjoong says honestly, his hands are gentle as he squeezes your shoulders. Something in his voice cracks. “I regret, with every fibre of my being, being unable to protect you from that commander back in Nassau.”
You don’t understand your captain. He was getting whipped within an inch of his life because of you, and the thing that weighed most heavily on his mind was being unable to protect you?
“I’m… sorry, captain.” You manage to stutter, still utterly in shock. But your captain shakes his head, his green eye staring at you meaningfully.
“I believe that apology is better saved for someone else, Chin Hae.”
You immediately know who he’s speaking about. Your fingers touch the silver sea flower wrought into the head of the hairpin.
“I will.” You tell your captain, determined to make amends. Even if he doesn’t forgive you for betraying him, you still owe him an apology, at the very least. “But I’m still sorry for causing you all this burden, captain.”
Hongjoong laughs, stepping back as his hands fall from your shoulders.
“Didn’t you hear what I said to Seonghwa the last time? I want you to tell me all your problems, burden me with everything, share life with me and the crew. We’re a family.”
The tears that slip from your eyes, this time, are ones of happiness.
“Yes, captain.” You manage choke out, and before you’re overcome with emotion, you move for the door, intent on finding the head gunner. But when you’re out of the cabin, stepping onto the main deck, a call from your captain makes you whirl back to look at him.
“Chin Hae?”
You’re a little confused by what he wants to say. He seems to be pondering something, rolling the thought around in his mind. You prompt him, curious about why he seems to be so hesitant.
“Captain?”
Finally, he smiles, and your breath catches in your throat from how it highlights every part of his face even in the gloom of his cabin.
“Call me Hongjoong.”
And with that, the door closes in your face with a soft click.
A happy laugh leaves through your tears. The words seem almost instinctive to you now, more free on your tongue than they have ever been. Before, you had been part of the crew, but now, you are part of the family.
“Of course… captain.”
A light feeling blossoming in your heart, you wipe the tears from your eyes and look up to the sky with a smile.
And you see a dark shape in the rigging, swaying back and forth with the wind, looking utterly alone.
Concern wells in your chest. San had told you that Wooyoung had been been remaining in the rigging for the past week you had been unconscious, only visiting your bedside once. During that time, he had refused his meals, snapped at everyone who had attempted to talk to him and had literally drunk himself half to death. In fact, he probably would have, San had told you grimly, if he hadn’t gotten into a massive fist fight with Jongho.
The maknae had tied a rope around Wooyoung’s waist, picked him up and thrown him into the sea to sober off. After that, the gunner had stopped downing alcohol like he was trying to drown himself in it, but it evidently wasn’t enough to stop him from separating himself from everyone like he had the plague.
Worse of all, Yunho had confided in you, eyes worried, that Wooyoung seemed to be regressing back into the behaviour he had exhibited when he had first come to the ship. He had ignored Hongjoong’s orders, which simply doesn’t happen on this ship, and had even refused to speak to Yunho or Yeosang.
Lonely, afraid and terrified of interacting with anyone around him.
You need to apologise.
Crossing the main deck, you make your way to the foremast, climbing up to the forecastle deck. The dark shape above you continues swaying precariously in the ropes above, uncaring of anything below it.
You exhale deeply, trying to muster up the courage to speak.
“Wooyoung!”
The dark shape jerks, almost tumbling out of the rigging, to your horror. But his hand flashes out instinctively from years in the ropes, gripping tight onto the sheets, and he rights himself, glancing down.
His eyes meet yours for a second, and in that moment, your heart shatters.
You honestly don’t know what you were expecting when you met him face to face again. You remembered, more than anything else, that his face had been the last thing you’d seen when you slipped into your tangle with death itself, streaked with tears and grief. You couldn’t exactly recall what he’d said or you’d said, but you had seen his face in your dreams more times than you could count.
But in none of them had he looked like this.
The person staring back at you looks like a man haunted, as if he’s just surfaced from a terrifying nightmare, trapped in the shadows of his own mind, desperately wondering if he’s still merely wandering about in the darkness. His normally immaculate purple hair is mussed, as if he hasn’t bothered with it for weeks, and his mouth hangs open in shock.
Then he smooths it over the best he can, but you can see the wounded, terrified look in his eyes right before it slips away behind his mask. Hiding his true self in front of your eyes.
“I’m coming up.” You call, and you don’t think you’ve seen him more panicked your entire life.
His eyes fly wide in horror and he opens his mouth to protest, but then immediately shuts it before a word can escape him, much to your confusion. You place your hands on the rope, the thick lengths twisting under your grasp as you begin to haul yourself up.
It’s been a long time since you’ve touched the ropes, but you’re sure it’ll come back to you soon. You’re just not sure whether it’ll come back fast enough to catch Wooyoung, who’s scurrying away from you up the mast like a terrified monkey. Honestly, your limbs are still weak from your long bedrest and you doubt that you can catch the man who’s practically lived in the ropes for half his life, but you need to at least make an effort for all the pain you’ve put him through.
“Wooyoung, wait!” You shout, chasing him up as fast as you can. He doesn’t look back once, scrambling as fast as he can to avoid you at all costs. But there’s only one way he can go, and that is up. Eventually, he reaches the top of the mast, and there’s nowhere else for him to go. His eyes widen as he realises this and he glances at your approaching figure like it’s the devil itself come for him.
Then his eyes flicker to the side and you gape, a swear starting to emerge from your mouth. “Wooyoung, no-”
But it’s too late. He’s already jumped across the rigging, catching onto the ropes of the main mast and hiding from your sight behind the wooden pillar.
“Are you serious, Wooyoung?” You grumble, grabbing a rope from the side and swinging across to him. The wind and warmth of the sun caresses your face as you grab onto the ropes of the main mast, barely catching a glimpse of his eyes as he leaps to the mizzenmast.
Honestly, if you follow him again, he’s probably just going to jump into the ocean to avoid you and you’ll never get to apologise to him. Then a dumb, reckless plan pops into your mind and you start climbing higher and higher, as fast as you can.
“Do you trust me?” Wooyoung had asked you once.
You had replied with a joking ‘not at all’, but deep in you, the words still stayed the same, no matter what had happened between the two of you.
With my life.
“Wooyoung!” You call, and from your time together in the rigging, learning about the way each other thinks, moves, breathes, he can sense something in the air. One eye peeks around the wood of the mast, only to widen in horror as he sees you stand at the highest yardarm, arms outstretched, only holding on to a single length of rope in hand.
It’s a trick that the two of you had developed, before the mission, before Nassau, before any of this had happened. It had just been the two of you, you resting against him in the crow’s nest, your intertwined hands in his coat pocket for warmth as you had watched the sun vanish behind the sea and the stars twinkle to life in the night sky.
You want, for a moment so desperately it hurts, to return to that time.
“No, don’t do it-” You see him begin to shout in raging alarm and panic, but you simply grin at him, wild and breathless from the sheer stupidity and recklessness of what you’re about to do. You’ve never done it from this high before, but you place your faith in Wooyoung, closing your eyes.
“Catch me.”
With that, you jump.
Wind rushes past you for a second as you seems to hang in free fall, but you’re not the least bit scared like you should be. In a single breath, something warm slams into your body, sending you flying backwards. Strong arms wrap around you, one around your waist and the other catches the rigging behind you. Your entire body jerks as you come to an abrupt stop, tangled in the ropes and in Wooyoung’s arms.
His body is warm against yours, pressing you to him. For a moment, relief sags in you.  
Your eyes fly open, only to see Wooyoung’s eyes staring straight into yours, pupils still dilated from fear.
Then his mouth opens, and from incensed look on his face, you’re about to get a tongue lashing.
“What were you thinking-” He rants, furious at your actions. But you aren’t paying attention to his scolding, instead, your eyes flicker over the sickly, bloodless pallor of his face, the way his jawline looks too sharp from lack of proper eating, skin stretched over his bones, how gaunt he looks with sunken cheeks. There’s a healing bruise on his cheekbone, still fresh, put there presumably by Jongho.
Your heart breaks clean in half when you study the dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, as if he hasn’t slept the entire week, how the white colouring of his skin makes them look like dark bruises.
“And do you know how dangerous that little stunt was? What would you have done if I hadn’t gotten to you in time? I can’t believe-” His words are cut off in a breathless gasp as your hands reach up to cradle his face gentle, thumbs brushing the soft skin under his eyes. He stares at you with wide eyes, terrified but so desperately unwilling to pull away from your touch, a war raging in his heart.
“You haven’t been sleeping well?” You murmur softly, tracing his cheeks and for a second, in a moment of weakness, he gives into your warmth, pressing his face into your hand. For a while, everything is right again with you and him, two people seeking comfort in each other.
That’s what the two of you have always been, a refuge for the other.
Then he catches himself and yanks himself from you, clapping one hand over his mouth, turning away so that you can no longer see his face.
“Go.” You hear him choke out, the words muffled by his hand as he sits down on the yardarm, unwilling to look at you in the eye. But you’ve had enough.
“Stop running from me, Jung Wooyoung!”
He seizes up at his full name. Nobody on board this ship calls him that, aware that his family name isn’t a real one. It’s something Hongjoong gifted him with when he had become one of the crew, a precious treasure of incomparable worth to him. But when you use it, he knows you understand the weight of it.
Having a name, when before you had none.
You see him shake his head and bury his face in his hands, knees curled up to himself. He doesn’t want to speak.
Crossing over to him, you crouch before his form. Initially, you had thought he was angry at you and merely didn’t want to talk to you out of fury at being lied to like that, but now you feel like it runs so much deeper than that.
“Wooyoung, talk to me, please.”
He shakes his head again, a little more frantic this time. You hear a sob torn from his chest and the sound of pain, anguish, agony makes yours ache in return.
“I’m begging you, Wooyoung. Please. Please talk to me.”
He remains completely still apart from the silent cries you can hear trapped in his chest. You’ve never seen him this vulnerable before, like a child who wants nothing more than to run to his parents for comfort, but doesn’t have any.
Someone who doesn’t know how to be told that it’s all going to be okay.
You rack your brains furiously for what happened to make him like this. Back and back and back, to that moment in the captain’s room, to when Wooyoung looked at you with eyes burning with ice cold fury. You see his lips move, and then you remember what he had said to you.
I wish… I wish you had died that first battle after Raguza... I wish you had never come to this ship.
“I didn’t mean it…” You hear Wooyoung’s soft whimpers as his body is wracked with the force of his sobs. Your heart breaks as you finally realise why he’s afraid of speaking to you any longer, why he won’t look at you in the eye. “I never wanted for any of that to happen… I never wanted for you to get hurt like that…”
A tear escapes you, a single drop rolling down your cheek.
He blames himself for what you had done.
Then you move forward, arms wrapping around him. His entire body stiffens in shock at your touch and he tries to shy away, but you cling to him, unwilling to let him go this time. Your chin rests on his shoulder, so close to him you can hear his heartbeat in your ears.
“I forgive you, Jung Wooyoung.”
“Don’t-” He chokes past tears, and another shudder runs through his entire body. “Don’t forgive me.”
You smile at him fondly even if you know he can’t see it. “Then you forgive me for lying to you.”
“I don’t blame you for that.” He sniffs, wiping his eyes but face still hidden in his arms. “You had every reason not to tell me. I had no right to say anything like that to you.”
“If you don’t let me forgive you, Wooyoung, I’m going to jump off the mast right this second.” You tell him, pulling away. Wooyoung’s hands rush to grab your wrists, pulling you tight to him, his chains jingling in your ears.
“Forgive me, forgive me-” He chokes out, wheezing from the heart attack he has almost gotten. You laugh, curling yourself into his chest where you’ve always sat before as you watch the sun begin to set before your eyes, turning the sky golden and blue.
This time, you take his hand in yours and place it in your pocket.
“I do.”
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everlastingdreams · 3 years
Text
Weeping Monk x Reader : Playing With Fire     chapter 15
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Story Summary:  The Huntsman, that is what they called your brother. A name he had earned by hunting down the fey for coin. Coin that is given by Father Carden for his services. You refuse to stand aside and watch how your brother hunts down those who are fey. When you start to warn the fey camps your brother wishes to attack, you find yourself behind enemy lines. But when the Weeping Monk becomes suspicious of you, you realise you are playing with fire.
Chapter Summary: You sneak the Monk and Percival into Mirstone. Helping the Monk proves difficult as his stubborness matches your own.
Notes: Let me know what you think, please. ^.^ And sorry for some of the next chapters to come. And yep I am re-using some of the gifs I made. Also this chapter was absolute hell to write, I had like five different versions to piece this together whelp
Warnings:  Trauma, mentions of selfharm, mentions of past abusive violence.
Word count: 2841 words in this chapter.
Chapter:  15/ 33+ something (buckle up, it’s a wild ride.)
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Night had already fallen when you arrived at Mirstone, both of you had agreed that it would be wise to leave the horses in a safe place nearby just in case. You knew you would have to sneak them into the village, preferably without being spotted, you did have a fey boy with you. Luckily you had lived here long and guided the Monk and Percival past the tents and homes with ease. The Monk suddenly stopped you in your tracks when he spotted one of your brother's men "Over there." You looked at where he was pointing at. Your eyes narrowed when you saw him. Ah. Brogan. "We will have to wait until he leaves." The Monk let out a pained groan, starting to regret coming here at all. Brogan was drinking from his flask, filled with ale no doubt. As the Monk lowered to his knees to rest for a moment you took his moment of faltered alertness to move away from him and the boy. Percival noticed, you brought a finger to your lips gesturing for him to remain silent. He gave a short nod but watched with wary eyes as you picked up a shovel that was leaning against a tent. You sneaked up to Brogan who had his back turned to you, only then did the Monk become aware of your absence. He immediately looked up only to see you slam the metal of the shovel against the back of Brogan's head. Brogan hit the ground as he fell unconcious. You grabbed that stupid ragged hat from his head and shoved it in his mouth before removing his belt and using it to tie his hands behind his back. It gave you a sick sense of gratification "I should have done that much earlier..." You beckoned for Percival and the Monk to come your way. The latter looked impressed but not happy with your action. You supported him again as you helped him to your home. "That was reckless." He actually scolded you. "Says the man that tried to free a woman and boy, and ended up having to fight the Trinity Guards." You shot back. "I won..." He quietly protested and actually smirked at the memory. "Barely." You quipped nodding to him, to the state he was in. He rolled his eyes at your comment, knowing it was true. He wouldn't have survived. He didn't plan to survive the fight. He had given you an oppurtunity to run away with the boy. Never had he expected that you would risk your lives to help him. And yet, here you were, dragging him to your home. The last time he was there he had held his sword to your throat and now you were helping him. With some difficulty you were able to open the door, it's hinges were terribly rusty. It creaked open and you helped him inside, it would be a stupid thing to help him downstairs. The door let into the kitchen immediately, if someone were to look inside through the windows they would discover you instantly.
“We should go to my bedchamber. They could see us through the windows down here.” You looked at the Monk apologetic.
He moved away from you and leaned against the wall, clearly not looking forward to having to climb a set of stairs.
“Percival, you go first. Don't want you to be behind us in case he falls down. Okay ?” There was a possibility it would happen.
“Alright, fine. Do I help ?” The boy looked up at you and the Monk.
You shook your head “No, thank you. This could get dangerous.”
The boy nodded in understanding and hurried up the stairs, looking down at you now “Well, come on then !”
You nodded to the Monk, not able to suppress the chuckle coming from you “You heard him. Do you need my help ?”
The Monk seemed to consider your offer, alerting you that he was indeed not fit to climb the stairs on his own in his state. You didn't wait for his answer and moved his arm over your shoulder and wrapped your arm around his back. He was taken aback by your action but let you help him up the stairs this way. It took a while but you managed to get him upstairs without tumbling down the steps. He leaned against the doorway breathing heavily, as he regained his composure. Now came the awkward part, for you to be able to help him and stitch up his wounds, you would have to see them. And by the uncomfortable silence in the room you knew the Monk was aware of it.
“It is hard to treat wounds you can't see...” You broke the silence and tried to sound casual.
The Monk gave a nod, not looking at you. You looked at the boy who quirked a brow and shrugged. You cleared your throat and awkwardly held out a hand towards the Monk. The situation was uncomfortable for both of you but this was not speeding things up at all. His eyes focused on you now, he send you an inquiring look. You straightened your back, not wanting to show how nervous you were “Shall I take your cloak ?”
Being straightforward proved fruitful as he finally started to take off his cloak, he handed it to you and you put it aside while he started to peel off the other layers that covered his torso.
You averted your eyes and looked to the boy instead “Are you hungry ?”
His eyes widened and he nodded, you quickly went downstairs to grab some bread and leftovers you could find before going back to your room. You gave the food to the boy who uttered a 'thank you' as he shoved some bread in his mouth. You had also brought something to eat for the Monk, and put it aside. You finally looked at the Monk and felt your breath hitch in your throat. Sure, you had seen a man's torso before but none of the people in your village looked like this. The Monk was far more muscular then you could have guessed. Of course he would be, with all that fighting he did. You hated to admit that even with the dark bruises and the bleeding wounds he looked good. If he had been anyone else you would have complimented him, but this was the person who had threatened your life not long ago in the room downstairs. The Monk had not noticed you staring at him, he was busy examining the wounds on his abdomen. When he turned a little to examine one on the side of his body right below his rib cage your gaze fell on his back and you swallowed back a gasp. Scars were scattered all over his back, recent wounds were mixed between them. Your brother often 'joked' how the Red Paladins were Father Carden's whipped hounds. That was his way of saying some of them engaged in self-flagellation to cleanse themselves. The amount of scars shocked you, you doubted the other paladins would have this many of them. Deep down you knew this was because the Monk felt he needed to cleanse himself over something he could not control, his fey heritage.
Most were healed but there were recent ones that looked no longer then a day old. Had he done this to himself the day he saved you and the boy ? Had he felt so much inner turmoil that he felt he needed to suffer for it ? He turned to look at you, having picked up on the uncomfortable silence. You averted your eyes, trying not to show that you had been staring but he had caught you doing it. "I can see if I have something for those..." You quietly spoke and gestured to his back. The Monk quietly shook his head even though the wounds on his back were burning "There is not enough time. It will be dawn soon."
He went to sit down on the edge of your bed. You gave a nod in understanding, you knew it would be dawn soon but something told you that that wasn't the real reason why he had refused your help. You grabbed the bowl of water you had on the table next to your bed and wetted the piece of cloth, preparing to clean the wounds so you could treat them.
“How did you get those ?” The boy suddenly asked and you saw the Monk's expression change. He swallowed thickly not acknowledging the question. How could he even start to explain it to the boy ?
You picked up on his reluctance to answer and turned to the boy "Percival, will you help me ?" He quickly nodded and you started to give him instructions. "Thank you, listen well. Go downstairs, crawl under the table. One of the floorboards is loose, under there you will find a small chest with some bottles with fey medicine and herbs. Will you bring me that chest, please ?" The boy had left the room to fetch the items without replying. 
"He's eager to help..." You let out a chuckle unaware the Monk was staring at you.
When you looked at him, you shrugged your shoulders "What ?"
He scoffed and shook his head, not believing how reckless you had been "You keep fey items in your home ? If they had known they would have killed you just for that."
You rinsed the extra water out of the cloth and he held his hand out to take the cloth from you, he wasn't looking at you, his attention was on one of the wounds on his torso now.
"That's why they were hidden." You casually said before reaching out with your hand to his bare arm, close to the deep gash he had there. He had removed your scarf to examine it. You had just wanted to clean away the blood to look at the wound but he flinched when he felt the damp cloth touch his arm, never expecting you to take it upon yourself to help him like this.
"I...can do it." So few words and yet he stumbled over them.
You raised a brow looking at him in doubt “Don't take this the wrong way, but you already hit the ground not long ago and I almost had to carry you up those few steps. If you insist on doing this alone you will still be here when the sun rises.”
The Monk scoffed at your comment and shook his head muttering “...carry me..”
You ignored him and tried to touch his arm so you could help him.
He moved so he stayed out of your reach, some of the blood running down his arm landed on your sheets.
"Stop moving and stop bleeding !" You said in frustration.
It made him look at you, eyes slightly widened. It made you realise how strange that probably sounded to him. "You're ruining my sheets, blood isn't easy to wash out you know ?" You almost pouted at the red now staining your white sheets.
"I'm aware." He stated the obvious as he looked at the sheets now.
Finally you sighed and spoke, your voice dripping with sarcasm "Would you be more at ease if you had your sword in your hands ? You weren't this uncomfortable when you visited my home the last time."
He stared at you for a moment and then he understood what you were talking about. The night he had warned you to stop warning the fey. He had felt strange when he had to hold you into place back then too, it had felt almost intimate then as well. But now you were trying to touch his bare skin and he didn't know why it made him so nervous, as if it was almost sinful. Which was ridiculous because you were just trying to help. It was his upbringing that caused him to react like this, he knew it was.
"You were not trying to help me that night if I recall." He deadpanned.
You frowned at that "You are more comfortable with me hitting you with a pan, then me helping you ?"
In truth, he was used to violence. He was not used to soft hands carefully touching him. So you were not far from the truth when you had asked that.
He answered with a hint of sarcasm "People don't usually touch me to help me."
"I wonder why." You shot back.
He looked up at you at that, noting the smirk that disappeared a second later.
"I mean... you are not making it easy for me here..." You gestured to him, damp cloth still in your hands "Did you never see a healer ?"
He had, even though he always tried to avoid getting an injury bad enough that he would need a healer "I have."
"Well, think of me as a healer then...it's the same thing." You tried your best to convince him.
He scoffed at that, knowing it was not the same at all. He never spoke to the healers, he didn't know anything about them and none of them were women.
"It's not the same." He replied, sounding a bit shorter then he had intented.
You were getting frustrated, this was going nowhere "Why ? What's the difference between me helping you or another stranger ?"
"You are." The words spilled out of him and he wished he had kept his mouth shut.
You were silent now as you thought about that statement.
He really did not wish to elaborate further on that, what would he even say ? That you touching his skin made him feel...strange ? A foreign feeling, something he had not felt before. Something he could not place. Only that it did not feel bad. That was perhaps the problem, it felt pleasant. It was something he believed he shouldn't feel.
Then you came to your own conclusion "You don't trust me to help you..."
He looked up at you right away, one thing he did know for certain was that he trusted you. Sure, you had lied to him about having stopped with warning the fey, but otherwise you had always been honest. Blatantly and recklessly honest sometimes. And you could have left him to die alone in the forest, instead you had brought him into your home to help him.
"I trust you." It was a statement that he needed you to hear.
You were not expecting to hear that coming from the Monk.
You were a bit taken aback "If you do, then please let me help you before you bleed to death on my bed."
He avoided looking at you, the conflict inside of him was clawing at him.
You took his silence as refusal “An infection could kill you ! Don't you care if you live or die ?!" "Not really. No." The truth came from his mouth faster then he could prevent it. "I care ! So stop moving and let me help you !" You were exasperated at this point. It appears that the more frustrated you became, the more stubborn he got so you tried a different approach.
You let out a deep sigh “Please, let me help you... Lancelot.” It was strange saying his name out loud for the first time.
And unbeknownst to you, hearing you call him by his actual name for the first time was why he finally gave in. He had only ever heard you call him 'Monk' until now. Finally he caved in, he looked at you and slowly nodded.
You cautiously took his arm in your hand and started to clean away the blood. You couldn't help but feel nervous, you couldn't push the thought away that you were washing blood off of someone who could easily kill you if he wanted to.
You tried to push the thought away, so far he had not threatened you anymore. You tried to be gentle but time was of the essence, this had to be finished before dawn. And in your haste you accidentally rubbed against the wound too roughly. He actually let out a short pained yell and you jumped and flinched as if he had hit you even though he had not laid a hand on you. You had sewn up your brother before, before you knew how he got his wounds. After you found out the truth about the origin of his wounds you had sewed him up one last time and did such a terrible job that he no longer demanded you to do so. But you were so used to your brother hitting you when you accidentally hurt him while sewing him up that it caused you to panic now. And you did what you had always done in that situation, you apologized.
“I'm sorry..I...I didn't mean to...” Your voice shook and your hands trembled.
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a-smol-chub · 3 years
Text
He can’t be THAT good...
(Hinakamuegi stuffing)
Na.egi Ma.koto frowns as he lets out a sigh. His pudgy stomach surges forward, pushing the zipper of his pants down. He had tried everything, sucking in, laying down, he simply couldn’t get his work pants to button. “...Kamu.kura..?” He calls out hesitantly.
Izu.ru Kamu.kura steps into the doorway almost immediately. His face remains calm and composed, even though Na.egi is flushed red, and looking down in shame. “Uh… can- can you get me some new work clothes…? Mine aren’t fitting anymore…”
Kamu.kura nods and steps into the room, opening a drawer and pulling out a pair of black work pants. “These should fit better,” he states before leaving. Na.egi swallows thickly and peels off the offending pants before pulling the other pair on. They were a little small, but at least they would button. He quickly slips a white work shirt on before grabbing his suit jacket on his way out of the apartment. “Love you!” he shouts before heading out. As soon as the door closes, Kamu.kura ties his hair up and slips an apron on. It was time to start cooking dinner.
Na.egi sighs and plops down in his office chair. He knew he had been gaining weight recently, but Kamu.kura either didn’t notice, or just hadn’t pointed it out yet. He absentmindedly runs a hand over his stomach as he hears a knock at the door. He blushes slightly. “Come in!”
A young intern walks in, holding a stack of files. “Um… Kiri.giri-san asked me to bring these to you, Na.egi-san.” 
“Oh, thanks Hin.ata-kun!” Na.egi beams up at the intern. Coincidentally, Na.egi had met his current boyfriend through this coworker, Ha.jime Hin.ata. Hinata had introduced them at a party celebrating Kamu.kura’s big promotion a few months ago. 
“Oh… she also wanted me to give you this,” Hin.ata adds, holding out a single sheet of paper. Na.egi frowns, taking it. “It’s a form for a new uniform. She said yours isn’t fitting that well anymore…”
Na.egi flushes and looks down. “It- it’s not my fault…” he mutters weakly. “It’s Kamu.kura, he’s way too good at cooking.” Hin.ata lets out a snort and rolls his eyes.
“Look, that bastard is way too good at most things, but it’s hard to believe he’d actually put that much effort into cooking for anyone. He hates cooking.”
Na.egi pouts and crosses his arms. “Then why don’t you come over some day? So you can see just how much he cooks lately.”
“He must have changed a lot for you to be telling the truth. Oh, I guess I’m mildly interested. When are you guys free?” he asks.
Na.egi pulls out a small pocket calendar from a desk drawer and flips through the pages. “Hmm… looks like we’re both good this Tuesday and Wednesday. Which works better for you?”
“Ah, I have a doctor’s appointment on Tuesday. Let’s do Wednesday,” he says. Na.egi nods excitedly and puts the pocket book back. He couldn’t wait for Hin.ata to find out just how wrong he was.
The rest of the work day is dull, Na.egi flipping through hours of mindless paperwork, signing things, and passing them up to management. He stands up from his desk and blushes as his stomach brushes past the edge of his desk. There had been free donuts and cupcakes in the employee lounge, and he had had way more than he originally thought. He swears internally and hopes that Kamu.kura didn’t have another large dinner planned for him.
----
He was wrong, of course.
After multiple large courses of mouth-watering lasagna, bowls upon bowls of creamy alfredo, and heaping plates of Italian meatballs, Na.egi lets out a quiet whimper and his arms flop to his side. “Kamu.kura… th- these dinners…. I’ve been putting on a lot of weight lately…” he whines.
Kamu.kura frowns and kneels down next to him, rubbing circles on his overfed belly. “Is it upsetting you?” he asks. As always, his face conveys no emotions, no hint of what he was thinking.
Na.egi blushes and sputters, trying to respond, but his mind feels fuzzy. Kamu.kura’s hands kneading his painfully stuffed belly made him feel weak, as he squirmed slightly. He lets out a quiet belch into his fist and looks away. “Everyone in the office just thinks… the- they think I’m doing this myself…”
“You are, are you not? I only provide food for you, but you are the one who stuffs yourself to this capacity.”
Kamu.kura’s words do not help the situation. Na.egi can’t necessarily deny that, even though he sure tries. He can’t justify it even to himself, because Kamu.kura was right and he knew it. He sighs. “Hin.ata-kun doesn’t believe that your cooking is this good… so I told him he could come over for dinner on Wednesday to prove him wrong.”
Kamu.kura pouts, pressing a finger roughly into Na.egi’s stomach. The noise Na.egi lets out makes him stutter and cover his mouth with embarrassment. “Wh- what was that for?”
“I did not give you permission to invite Hin.ata over.”
Na.egi huffs and tries to rub at his own stomach to soothe it. “He- he started talking about the weight I’d gained, and he said I needed a new uniform and I tried to explain that this only happened because of your cooking! But… he didn’t believe me…”
Kamu.kura lets out a quiet chuckle and plants a gentle kiss on Naegi’s neck. “We have been over this. This is not my doing, but yours. You need to start taking responsibility for your own gluttony,” he states monotonously. Na.egi blushes again, looking down. “I… can cancel with him if you want me to… I’m sorry, I should have asked you first.”
“He may come over, but I will need time to prepare dinner for the both of you.”
Na.egi perks up, leaning forward to kiss Kamu.kura in excitement. But his tummy weighs him down, and he flops back into the chair with a small huff. 
Kamu.kura gently wraps his arm around Na.egi’s waist and pulls him up, helping him walk down the hallway and into the bedroom. He pulls Na.egi’s work clothes off his grossly overstuffed form, tossing the basically worthless scraps on the floor. He crawls in bed next to his soft lover and pulls a blanket over them both, turning light out.
-----
The days leading up to Hin.ata’s visit were fairly uneventful. Na.egi would wake up, struggle to get dressed, go to work, snack all day, and come home to Kamu.kura’s unfairly good cooking. This continued until Tuesday evening, after work, when Hin.ata walked into Na.egi’s office at the end of his shift. “Hey Na.egi-san. You ready to head out?”
Na.egi presses the power button on his monitor and nods, standing up with a quiet ‘oof’. Damn… he had overdone it today, too. He feels his center of balance shift as he stands, and he rests a hand on his stomach. “Yeah, just let me grab my jacket.”
Hin.ata watches him, silently judging the shorter boy for eating so much at work. He had seen Na.egi sneak into the break room multiple times to bring food to eat mindlessly at his desk. He had seen Na.egi make trips to the vending machine, buying multiple sugary drinks and fattening snacks to stock pile in a drawer. He knew Na.egi was blaming his weight gain on his new partner, Kamu.kura, but seeing how Naegi acts at work, Hin.ata sincerely doubts that. 
The two brunettes make their way downstairs to the street to hail a cab together. They both climb in the back of the taxi, and Na.egi leans forward to give the address to the driver. The ride only takes around 10 minutes. Hin.ata passes a couple of dollars to his coworker, who adds his own half, and gives it to the driver. They both thank the driver and step out onto the sidewalk.
Na.egi climbs up the stairs to the apartment and unlocks the door. Hin.ata stands behind him, and is taken aback when the strong aromas of Kamu.kura’s cooking hit him square in the face. Na.egi giggles as he sees Hin.ata stumble forward, not even bothering to take his work jacket off, and sit down at the dining table. Having been subject to this before, Na.egi has enough self control to take his shoes and jacket off before sitting down and filling his plate. 
----
He had doubted every word, up until that damn door was opened.
Hin.ata had known Kamu.kura since they were both kids, and they had grown up together. Kamu.kura was apathetic, cold, and didn’t have any motivation to do anything. To hear that his old acquaintance (Hinata wasn’t sure he could call him a friend, exactly) had changed so much as to start cooking this much for Na.egi, for Na.egi to have gained this much weight…
It didn’t make any sense.
He had sincerely doubted it.
He knew he was wrong the second the door opened. 
His mouth starts drooling before he even sits down. He sits down at the dining table, grabbing a plate and piling it high with everything in reach. He vaguely registers Na.egi sitting down next to him, grabbing his own plate and filling it with whatever he can. 
Hin.ata’s mind is a complete blur. All he can process is the continual flow of food being stuffed down his throat. Tender roast that melts in his mouth, creamy potatoes that slide down his throat, freshly buttered rolls with a perfectly crispy crust. He continues shoveling everything in reach into his gullet, without regard for how quickly he’s filling up. His stomach balloons forward, pushing against the buttons on his shirt. His fork hits the bottom of his plate, and his mind clears for a moment. He lets out a quiet groan and presses a hand against his stomach, trying to comfort it. 
“K-Kamu.kura…” he whines, squirming in his seat. Na.egi continues shoving food into his mouth, not hearing Hin.ata. He was already on his third plate. Kamu.kura steps forward, a ghost of a smirk present on his face. “Is there a problem, Hin.ata?”
“It- it hurts… it’s too much…” he moans. Kamu.kura kneels down beside his chair and presses a warm hand against his flesh. Hin.ata’s face flushes and he turns away.
“Then stop,” Kamu.kura says simply. “That’s all you have to do. Don’t fill your plate again, and don’t keep going.”
Even with direct instruction not to, Hin.ata finds himself sitting forward and piling more food onto his plate. Kamu.kura watches with a smirk, continuing to rub circles on his belly. Hin.ata feels and hears his belly gurgle in protest, but he can’t stop his hands from moving. 
Na.egi slumps back, groaning, and looks over at Hin.ata and Kamu.kura with bleary eyes. “Is… he alright..?” Na.egi asks between heavy pants. Kamu.kura nods, continuing to rub Hin.ata’s bloated tummy. Hin.ata moans around a particularly large bite of pasta, and he hears a loud ping. He looks down and blushes deeply as he stomach surges forward. He had actually eaten so much that a button had popped off of his shirt.
“Do.. you see what I mean..?” Na.egi asks quietly.
Hin.ata doesn’t have the strength to give a snappy response.
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Idiot (Affectionate) ~ A Bad Samaritan Fic
CHAPTER ONE: FIRST DAY
When your cousin Sean and his friend start up a valet business at Nino’s, where you work as a waitress, you don’t expect it to lead to any of what happens next.
Pairing: Derek Sandoval x Reader Word Count: 1893 Rating: T - mild language, reference to harassment
Masterlist
“So, how does it feel, your first big boy job?” you teased, elbowing your cousin in the ribs. 
“Oh haha,” Sean drawled, swatting at you. “You’re hilarious.”
“And adorable.” You dodged out his reach, and the two of you proceeded to chase each other around the podium for several minutes.
“I’m serious though, Sean. Suggesting Nino start doing valet parking, organizing the whole thing. I think it’s great. Better than car washes and dog walking. It shows initiative, and it’ll get Don off your back a bit.”
“How’d you know that was one of the goals?”
“Because I know you. Really, my only disappointment is that you brought him along.” You gestured over your shoulder to Derek who was just walking up. 
“Hey, come on now!” he cried.
“Derek’s my best mate, you know that Y/N,” Sean sighed. “And I think you two would get along if you gave him a chance.”
“Yeah, but he’s so...him,” you sighed, making a face of mock disgust. 
“Yo, hold up, what’s that supposed to mean?” 
“Are you sure you want me to answer that question?” You cocked an eyebrow at him, whether he took it as a warning or challenge was up to him.
“Yeah. If you got a problem with me, I wanna know what it is.” 
“I don’t have a problem with you, per se. It’s just that...you’re arrogant, and loud. Not even your voice, just, the way you are. You act like you’re hot shit, but you’re not half as clever as you think.”
He scoffed in disbelief and even though you knew you should leave it there, something made you want to keep pushing, almost to see what happened if you got him riled enough. 
“If you were, you wouldn’t be working nothing but a string of dead-end jobs.” You shrugged. “Frankly, I think both of you are wasting considerable talent being valets instead of looking at the bigger picture.”
“Wait, hang on!” Sean protested. “A minute ago you were praising my initiative.”
“Better to start your own idea than working someone else’s, sure, but I was mostly trying to be nice.” You flashed an apologetic grimace, nose wrinkling. “You’re my favorite cousin and I love you?” you continued in a rush, hoping to cover up your admission of insincerity with charm.
Sean rolled his eyes fondly at you.
“Well if you’re so smart, how come you ain’t doin any better? You’re just like us, Miss Waitress,” Derek said mockingly.
“Except I’m doing this because textbooks cost like four hundred bucks a piece and I don’t have an extra kidney to sell. Unless you’re going to give me yours?” You gave him another challenging look before sighing. “As soon as I have that degree in my hand, I am outta here.”
“Some of us got families to take care of, can’t just run away when we get bored.”
“I…” you took a deep breath, deflating. “I didn’t mean it like that. All I was trying to say is I know Sean’s got talent and someone else is bound to notice eventually, and there’s probably a brain in that head of yours somewhere. I find it hard to believe that you want to do this for life. Family first sure, I get it, but don’t you want...don’t you deserve more?”
Derek and Sean both frowned, unsure of how to answer you. Of course neither of them wanted to be valets or car washers or grocery baggers forever. But they had bills to pay, food and rent and electricity to afford. If they didn’t keep up with here and now, all the bigger picture thinking and dreaming of the future in the world wasn’t going to help. 
Something inside the restaurant caught your eye and you shook your head.
“I should probably get in there. Nino’s got Val doing place settings, and we probably don’t want to be auctioning off butter knives.” You shoved your hands in the pockets of your black slacks and flashed them both a smile. “Good luck tonight.”
Derek made no secret of staring at your ass as you walked away, a fact that Sean definitely noticed. 
“Come on, seriously?” he asked his friend, making a gesture of both annoyance and defeat.
“What dawg? Your cousin’s kind of a bitch sometimes, but she’s hot as hell. I’m just appreciating.”
~
“Nino,” one of the chefs asked a few days later. “How come you don’t feed those two boys parking cars? You feed everyone else. They must be starved out there all night.”
Nino looked thoughtful, as if it hadn’t occurred to him before. You frowned, loading your tray with table seven’s appetizers. 
“Well, they don’t really work for Nino like the rest of us, do they? They’re independent contractors,” you pointed out.
“Cold, Y/N,” the busboy, John, teased. “Throwing your cousin under the bus.”
You shrugged, weaving your way out of the kitchen. “If he wants food he should learn to put it in his contract.”
About an hour later, Nino was flagging you over, for the third time that night.
“Y/N, Y/N,” he said, rushed. “No one is eating the lasagna.”
“I can try to push more of it, talk it up or something?” you offered, not sure why he was telling you.
“No, no. It’s fine. I just don’t want to see it go to waste.” He smiled like an idea was suddenly dawning on him. “Why don’t you take some to the boys out front. David is right, they must be hungry.”
You rolled your eyes with a laugh. You should have suspected as soon as it was brought up that Nino would cave. Nodding, you went back to the kitchen to relay the order and wait.
With the two plates, rolled silverware tucked in your apron pocket, you made easy work of weaving through the restaurant and elbowing open the doors, only to grimace uncomfortably when you realized it was just Derek at their podium.
“Hey,” you said awkwardly, making him jump in surprise. “Uh...Nino thought you might be hungry and no one was eating the lasagna so he sent me out with some for you and Sean...where is Sean?”
“He’s just parking somebody, he’ll be back in a minute. Nino’s givin' us free food?” you tried to suppress a smile at the excitement in his voice. 
“No, I just brought these out to taunt you,” you joked, rolling your eyes as you handed him one of the plates and dug into your pocket for his fork. 
You were silent for a minute, shifting awkwardly, from foot to foot, still holding Sean’s plate and not sure what to do with it.
“About what I said the other night,” you said finally, chewing on your lip. 
Derek stopped, fork halfway to his mouth and looked at you.
“I may have been...unreasonably harsh…” you said hesitantly. “And I…”
The words died on your throat as you found yourself wondering if you were actually sorry. You felt guilty, but you still meant what you said. Sean and Derek were both smart people, and you thought they could do better. You had been working at Nino’s since you were nineteen, and had seen so many people insist that a job was just temporary, only to still be there almost a decade later. You didn’t want to see that happen to either of them. 
You were trying to remind yourself that it wasn’t about you, when Derek cut through your thoughts.
“Don’t sweat it, I’ve already forgotten,” he said. “It’s all good bro.”
“Oh.” He seemed so genuine in his reassurance and you weren’t sure what to do with that. Instead you changed the subject. “Where is Sean? Shouldn’t he be able to park a car quickly if he’s going to be a valet?”
“I can just hold onto his food, if you gotta get back in there.”
“Please,” you shook your head. “I’m in no rush to return to Awkward First Date, Going to Ask for a Divorce Any Second, or Family With the Twins from The Shining.” 
“How come you only got three tables when the place is packed? Don’t you handle five or six like a breeze?”
 “I got moved off two, one of them was my fault. So instead I get anyone that wants to eat at the bar. And my section has the last empty table. How’d you know how many tables I usually have?”
“Uh...I overheard some people talking when I went for a smoke break.” His eyes shifted to the side, avoiding your curious look.
“Riight.” You nodded exaggeratedly. There was no way in hell you believed that, unless they’d been gossiping about you losing tables, but he didn’t seem to know about that. 
“Anyway, why’d they get pulled?”
“The one that was my fault or the one that wasn’t?”
“Both,” he sighed, making a somewhat impatient gesture. “Sean is out parking the first car that’s showed up in an hour. Talkin’ to you’s at least something to do.”
“Glad to know I rank above staring at the sidewalk or counting the windows across the street.” You rolled your eyes.
“That’s not what I meant.” 
You leaned back, resting your elbows against the edge of the podium, bringing your faces surprisingly close together. He shoveled a bite of food into his mouth to distract himself from that fact, and the things he was thinking he could do.
“Couple of suit-and-ties celebrating some sort of business deal. One of them asked the new kid if she was on the menu, a few other lewd comments. They made her really uncomfortable, so Nino switched us around, figuring I could handle it.” You shrugged. “Same guy got a little...grabby for things that aren’t his. Nino spotted it and decided to take over the table himself. That’s one down.”
Derek frowned. He’d known plenty of people that worked in restaurants. Managers, and owners especially, didn’t typically move someone off a table for a little handsiness. But maybe Nino was one of the rare ones that went above and beyond for his staff. And if not and you didn’t want to tell him the whole thing, who was he to judge?
“The other was a complaint that I was ‘belligerent.’”
“But you’re cuddlier than a kitten, how could they ever think that?” he laughed. 
You stuck your tongue out at him childishly, laughing along. 
“All I did was correct them on my name,” you protested. “...every time they called me Sweetcheeks.”
For some reason, this only made Derek laugh harder, nearly choking on a mouthful of pasta. 
“Definitely not hostile.”
“Whatever, you dick.” You shoved him playfully and suddenly the two of you froze.
This was a shift in dynamic, a tipping point. Would he let you get away with it and tilt the scale from acquaintance to friendship? Or would he take offense? 
Sean found you in that waiting tension, shattering it with his greeting as he finally returned from parking the car. You awkwardly explained the meal delivery and sighed that you had to get back to work, someone would come get the dishes in a bit. 
Derek locked eyes with you as you turned to go. You flashed a quick smile back. 
“Did I miss something?” you heard Sean ask, lilt exaggerated by his confusion.
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naomiidaniielle · 3 years
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His Rules, Her Touch
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[the Mandalorian x f!reader]  Word Count: 5.9k (not sorry :’] ) Warnings: 18 + SMUT, sexual tension, language, oral sex (female receiving), slight cock warming (you’ll miss it if you blink), prostitution Summary: He didn’t fall in love but you caught his eye, elegantly spread across the surface of display. He knew right there and then, he had to have you. Author’s Note: This is my first Mando x reader story so I’m a little nervous. I’m planning on making this a series so this is like the introduction to it all so I apologize if it’s a little slow. I got inspiration to do this story from one of my favorite fanfics “Rough Day” by @no-droids and the amazing artwork done by @followwhereshegoes. You should go check them out if you haven’t but without further ado-  This is for my best friend and number one supporter, @xxbeebee8xx​, I love you <3 Your fingers trace the water’s surface, the aroma of bath salts fill your nose and gives you a sense of tranquility. You rest your head over the back of the bath with your eyes closed. The bustling and voices down below float their way through the floor and it made you hold your breath. You had been in the prostitution business since you were a girl, serving the rich people in the capital of Canto Bight. You had started out working in the stables with other children and taking care of the fathiers. Your sexual appeal had begun to show and you were brought up from shoveling shit to pleasing gamblers, war profiteers, and stuck up money spenders.  The life you had been forced into had eventually become numb to you and did everything you could to stay alive. Sleeping and resting during the day, serving drinks and letting men fuck you during the night. Even if the job wasn’t something you wanted to particularly do, the money payed well and you lived somewhat comfortably. That was enough for you. You open your eyes to the sound of a knock outside your door. Your name was muffled through the door and you knew that your alone time was up and you had to get ready. The water pours over the edge as you get up to wrap yourself in a towel and over to the divider to change into your outfit. The shimmering fabric barely covered your body but why argue when that was the whole point of being a prostitute in Canto Bight. Your hair fell into a messy braid down your tan, bare back. A grunt of slight discomfort comes from your lips when you adjust the golden bra top. “Why do they have to make these so uncomfortable?” you grumble under your breath before turning to walk out the door. The voices in the casino below was much louder and you carefully walk down the glass stairs. The loud music, smell of food being cooked, the screams and hollers of gamblers were all the usual to you. You saunter over to the bar and you give the bartender a nod. He grumbles before turning around to make your usual drink. It was the only way to get you through your long nights. You look around the casino and bar, many familiar customers sitting in their usual spots with women seated on their laps. Most of them were gamblers or pirates which to a degree paid a lot more than the rich bastards did. Your drink was handed to you and you take it over to your luring spot.  The drink was devoured quicker than you wished but you didn’t have time to be unavailable. It seemed to be a busy night so you had no time to waste. Laying out across the center piece of the roulette, eyes were drawn over to you as you arch your back to lure with your sexual appeal.
Your mouth was slightly hanging open with your fingers tangling with your braided hair. A certain figure caught you and was quick to move through the crowd. “Hello, gorgeous. Good to see you again.” he stands in front of you and lifts your chin up to face him with his cold fingers. You gasp from the blunt jerk of your head but whimper out softly. “Good evening, sir. I missed you.” you force the words out of your mouth and ignore the disgusting notion stirring in the pits of your stomach.  His black eyes take in your body and he licks his lips in pure lust. “Don’t worry, I’m here now.” he leans down to kiss your lips and you let him do it. - His eyes stare at you through the visor of his helmet. He was supposed to be watching the target but when he ambled over to you, his attention was no longer on him. Din’s arm rests on the table and he was bordering the edge of his seat as he wanted to go over there and take you all for himself. He had never seen a beauty such as you and he has been everywhere. You were like a crystal shimmering in the deepest, darkest caves of Dagobah. Love wasn’t something that was in the Mandalorian’s vocabulary and he tends to push anyone away that intends to get close to him. He already lost way too much to lose it again. But there was something about you that he couldn’t just let go.
On sudden impulse, Din rises from his seat and makes his way over to you and the bounty he was due to collect. The way his lips were attached to yours made his blood boil. The shouts of rage and cheers of gambling was ignored by Din as he doesn’t stop at nothing to get over to where you were. “Let her go,” his voice is low in warning. You suddenly pulled back from Darro and sit up to face the new stranger. A tight knot forms in your throat as you take in the Mandalorian and you couldn’t help but be excited by him. Being interrupted left Darro in displeasure and he turns to face Din with a hard glare. “What do you want, Mandalorian?” he ushers out the word rather harshly as he reaches out to grab your arm so you don’t rush away. “Can’t you see we were a little busy? Go find your own whore to fuck.” Din couldn’t help but feel extremely pissed off at how he was treating you and the other working women in the casino. “I said let her go, I won’t repeat myself for a third time.” his gloved hand was hovering over his blaster resting in its holster. Darro draws his eyes down to see that he was serious and he scoffs. “What? Are you going to kill me? Newsflash, it’s her job to please me. I’m not bothering her. If she wanted to be left alone she wouldn’t have chosen this job in the first place.” his grip tightens and he pulls you off the table and against him almost possessively. The Mandalorian’s jaw clenches underneath his helmet as he knew he couldn’t just shoot him without causing a panic in the casino. “Fine,” he decides and moves his hand off his blaster. “let’s play a game.” His deep, mysterious voice sent thrill down your spine as you look to Darro of what he was going to do. The pale man’s mouth closes as he snorts quietly in disbelief. “I hate to say it but you don’t look like much of a gambling man.” Din doesn’t move as he faces Darro with an intimidating stance. “Wanna bet?” Darro’s grip lets go and you move back and out of the way. The two men silently converse before going to sit down at one of the empty tables to play sabacc. “You sure you know what you’re doing, Mando?” Darro questions the armored man. Din doesn’t say anything as he settles himself down, waiting for the dealer to deals them their cards. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him the whole time they waited for the game to start. He was dressed from head to toe in beskar armor and couldn’t catch a single glimpse of skin. To you, it was extremely hot but you couldn’t say anything. You were always taught that you were to not demand but receive. The cards for sabacc were distributed out to Darro and Din and you were sitting behind Darro, with a curious eye.  You didn’t realize it but Din’s eyes were on you instead of his opponent. A clear of the throat brought him back to reality and facing Darro fully. “You ready to play, Mando?” “...Of course,” his voice was raspy through the modulator and he holds his cards up, Darro smirking in front of him. - The game lasts forever and you were growing bored. People were gathering up around the table with the two opponents facing each other off. A bunch of the working girls were gathered together in a tight circle and their attention was on the Mandalorian. You blow a raspberry as you sit back against the wall behind Darro. “You never said what was at stake, Mando.” Darro brings up as the dealer deals in more cards. “What exactly are the bets here?” Din’s hands rest on the table top as he waits for his cards. He was silent as he thinks, his gaze wandering to you in the background. “I let you go but you have to give me the girl.” Both you and Darro nearly choke on air. What did he want with you? What was so special that he placed you on the cards, assuming he wins. Darro’s eyebrows narrow at the Mandalorian before scoffing. “I don’t own her. You’ll have to bring it up with the owner and manager of the casino.” “If I win, give her to me and I will overlook the price on your head, Darro Kilis.” the Mandalorian’s voice was deep in warning as he leans over the table to get his point across with his blaster pressing against Darro’s knee underneath. Darro’s body stiffens and his fists clench together, clearly caught in the middle of a difficult situation. After a moment, he nods his head to agree. “Okay, fine. If you win, you get the girl and I walk free. What if I win?” Din takes a steady breath his blaster still pressed to Darro. “I let you walk away with your life. Unless you give me a reason to shoot you.” the safety on his blaster clicks off and Darro reaches down to grab the barrel of his blaster. “Okay, okay!” he panics. “ I understand and agree to your terms! Let’s just get this game over with.” You couldn’t help but chuckle quietly under your breath. Even your laugh was angelic. Din couldn’t tear his eyes away from you before looking to the cards in his hand. Din and Darro sit in silence from across each other as they hold their cards in hand. The people surrounding them curious on who was going to put down first. Darro’s knee bounces nervously under the table as he holds his cards tightly in hand. “I’m gonna call, straight staves.” he lays his cards down and looks to Din with a cocked eyebrow. “Sorry, Mando, must be embarrassing to lose like that. Looks like not every hero gets the girl after all.” he cackles deeply and you felt your heart drop down into your stomach. The Mandalorian looks at the cards laid out before him a sigh heard faintly through his modulator. “Good play but not good enough, I’m afraid.” Din lays his cards down. “Full sabacc.” Cheers and surprised shouts rose around the table and Darro’s sneer falls from his face. Din leans back in the chair, an all knowing smirk hidden under his helmet. “Shit!” Darro slams his hand down on the table and wiping his shame away with his hands. You couldn’t help but feel a victorious smile grow on your face as you watch your savior stand to his feet. He brushes on past Darro, stopping to place the credits down beside him before going over to you. You swallow thickly as he towers above you, seeing how much bigger than you he was. “Well played, Mando. I have no way of expressing how grateful I am that you won me my freedom.” you bow your head and shiver when you feel his fingers lift your chin. “You may be free but I am not leaving you here.” Din says gruffly as he stares down at you. “You’re coming back with me.” You stutter in slight surprise before he was dragging you through the casino and out the golden-rimmed doors. “Wait-” you didn’t know where he was taking you but you felt a bit of thrill and excitement of being taken off this god forsaken planet. - The ocean breeze of Cantonica left goosebumps on your bare arms and back, sending an alarming shudder through your body. “Kriff, it’s cold...” you mumble as you walk alongside the Mandalorian to what you guess is his ship.  He doesn’t say anything as he looks down to the side at you. His next action leaves you surprised. A sudden blanket of warmth wraps around your shoulders and you realize that he enclosed your body with his cape. “Oh, Mando, you didn’t have to but thank you.” you offer him a smile in which he says nothing in return. Typical. He opens the cargo bay door to his ship and stands to the side to let you go in first. The ship was quite impressive in your eyes. The was beginning to rust but you could see all the scratches and dents that apprises a foretold story of many battles. Once you were inside, Din trails in after you and closes the cargo bay door. “Change into something more appropriate. We’re taking off.” he informs you before climbing up to the cock pit. You were left alone in the cargo bay and you look at your surroundings. “So he’s a bounty hunter,” you take notice of his wall of blasters and weapons, reaching into to spectate it a little closer. You accidentally bump one of the daggers off and are quick to reach out for it before it hit the ground. “Don’t touch anything.” Din’s voice shouts down below to you and you blush in embarrassment. “Sorry,” you call back up to him before putting it back where it belonged. You continue to wander around a little, stopping to heed the fresher. A good washing might do you some good as you step inside to clean up. The water felt nice and released your tensed muscles from the night. The ship had lifted off and it had taken everything in your power to not trip and fall in the fresher. Your body was boxed around in the narrow, tight room and it was starting to vex you. One you were able to wash properly, you step out of the fresher only dressed in a towel. Mando hadn’t told you where any clean clothes were so you guessed you had to find them yourself. A closed door stands around the corner and you figure you could search in there. You press a button and the hatch opens to reveal... a little green creature? You step back in surprise, yelping when you trip over your own feet with your ass hitting the hard floor. Mando must’ve heard you because he’s racing down the ladder in a matter of seconds by your side. “What happened?” he looks to see the Child giggling happily from his cot. A sigh of relief is heard through his helmet and he looks back down to you. “Are you okay?” Din reaches a hand down to pull you up, looking away when he noticed you were only wrapped in a towel. “Uh, yes, sorry.” you apologize, blushing a deep red in embarrassment when you take a look at your state. Holding the towel tighter around you, you ask, “Is he...yours?” Din walks over to the Child and picks him up carefully before turning back to you. “He is my foundling. I am tasked to reunite him with one of his kind. There’s an extra pair of clothes there.” Din points to some spare clothing on his bedside. He walks past you and back towards the ladder that led up to the cockpit.  You watch him ascend back up to the cockpit, most likely leaving you to change in privacy. Your heart was pounding wildly in your chest when your eyes land on his ass, noticing how it showed through his pants. With a shake of your head, you focus on the task at hand and go to get changed with the clothes Mando had pointed out to you. They were a bit big but they would have to do until you can go buy yourself something more your size.  Once dressed, you stepped out of the small hangar and tucking the shirt into the pants. “Kriff, these are ginormous on me.” you sigh before going to climb up the ladder to the cockpit. You could hear child laughter emitting from the main compartment of the ship and the door opens for you. Din hears you enter and turns his head slightly to you. “Sorry, clothing options are scarce. Once we hit Nevarro, I’ll buy you something.” he offers before turning back to piloting the ship. The way his hands were wrapped around the controls of the ship had you distracted. You could only imagine how those fingers felt wrapped around your throat...squeezing tightly... “Oh, no problem. Thank you.” you say, clearing your dirty mind and sitting down in an empty seat. For a short while, you both sit in complete silence but nothing about it was awkward, in fact, the air felt intimate. Din’s rigid shoulders had your eyes drawn to him as you wished nothing more than to feel how broad he was under all that armor.  “We’ll reach Nevarro by tomorrow,” Din’s voice interrupts your thoughts. “I suggest you get some rest.” You weren’t tired, you were far from it. You couldn’t stop thinking about him. The way his body stood tall and preserved only made you want him even more. “Cyar’ika,” your gaze snaps to his, afraid you missed him saying something when you were in your trance. “get some rest.” You swallow and nod your head, leaning back in the chair. “Okay, wake me up in case anything happens. Also, Mando...I really want to say thank you for...freeing me back on Canto Bight.” you say gratefully. Din was slightly surprised but it made his heart flutter in his chest. “...You’re welcome.” - A sudden jolt around you startles you awake and you look to the pilot seat. “Mando?” Din was sitting in his seat and pilots his way carefully through an asteroid belt field. “It’s alright, just some asteroids.” he reassures carefully, easily getting them out. You sigh in relief, rubbing the sleepiness out of your eyes. “How long was I asleep for?” you ask, getting up and standing behind his seat. The ache for him was getting more and more louder and you didn’t know how much longer you could hide your desire for him anymore. You were a prostitute for crying out loud...well, ex-prostitute. Bringing pleasure for others and yourself had become part of your daily routine and you had to admit that it was weird to not be bent over every form of surface, demanded to submit. Your thighs rub together, greedily seeking friction when your hand comes into contact with Din’s cool beskar. You could feel him go rigid under your tough but he doesn’t pull away. “For maybe an hour or two.” he tells you, his voice sounding strained. You nod your head, your hands slipping further down his armored shoulder and to rest at his chest. “How much longer until we reach Nevarro?” you lean in and your lips hover close to the side of his helmet, your voice lowering an octave in desire.  His gloved hand reaches up to stop you from going any further. “What are you doing, cyar’ika?” his voice turns gruff and arduous, choosing to ignore your question.  “Just...thought I might repay you for saving me.” you told him simply as your other hand wraps around the leather chair to his lower stomach and lingering up by his belt.  Din inwardly groans, holding himself back from turning around and kissing you. “I don’t think that’s a smart idea. Once we get to Nevarro, we’re going our separate ways.” he didn’t know why he was saying those words to you. The only reason why he bothered to buy you off was so that he could have you all to himself but he didn’t want to hold you captive for his own selfish reasons. Your movements stop as you stare down at his shiny helmet. He didn’t move and you couldn’t see his expression, to know if he was serious or not. “Okay, I understand.” your hands glide back to your side and you turn to walk out of the cockpit. “Goodnight, Mando.” you knew if you were to stay up in the cockpit with the Mandalorian, it would be proven difficult to keep your hands to yourself. Before you could walk through the door, you hear the chair spin and heavy footsteps behind you. You go to turn around but rough hands hold you captive, pressing your body firmly to the cool steel and making your nipples hard through the thin fabric of the shirt. The helmet was hovering above you and you couldn’t see the pair of eyes through the dark visor.  “Did you need something?” you ask him silently, keeping in mind the Child sleeping right beside the two of you. There was a sly smirk growing on your face and you could feel how tense the Mandalorian was before you. Din’s grip is tight around your hips as no words were formed. He wanted to shut you up because your cocky attitude was really pissing him off with that all knowing glint in your eye. He wanted to wipe that smirk off your face when he fucked you hard into the ground, your body whining and broken underneath him. “Just so you know, I don’t fall in love with people. So you can’t expect anything more than this, cyar’ika.” The new nickname for you sends shiver down your spine and straight to your aching core. You really didn’t mind that if this were to happen, you both couldn’t fall in love with each other. “So he has rules.” You liked a challenge. “We’ll see, Mando. You haven’t had me yet.” A growl emits from Din’s helmet as he roughly shoves you up against the cockpit walls. A whimper escapes your lips from the blunt force of the cold wall to your back. “Go to my sleeping quarters. I’ll be down in a moment.” At Din’s words, he releases you and you make your way down the cargo bay hastily. The desire between your legs was getting more and more prominent so you open the hatch to the hangar quickly. Heavy footsteps are heard coming down the ladder and it strikes you eager to finally get what you’ve been desiring since you saw him. Din steps into the bunk, quickly removing his boots. You were sitting back on his cot, watching his every move while he crawls up above you. “Turn the lights off, cyar’ika.” he tells you and you raise a brow. “You can’t see me without my helmet on.” That’s right. He was a Mandalorian and it was part of their creed to not show their face to anyone. You reach behind you to turn the lights off in the small room and it turns pitch black. You can hear the removal of beskar, the noise ringing in your ears when it hits the floor. A gloved hand pulls you close but you were facing down when you felt something around your eyes. “I’m going to blindfold you,” his gruff voice echoes to her ears and you felt your arousal increase. You’ve never been blindfolded it before but you kind of liked it, it sent a certain thrill to the pits of your stomach. Once the blindfold was on, you start working on taking off your own clothing while Din works on his. The sound of oxygen release is loud in your ears and you figure that he had removed his helmet. You were left in your underwear and the cool air of the ship pokes at your skin like needles. Din’s heavy breathing was above you and you shudder at the thought of the face he was making above you, taking in your form. Feeling brave, your hand traces down his abdomen and stop at the elastic band of his boxers. Your breath hitches in your throat when you reach to cup his groin, the heavy and hot weight of his cock in your small hand. You could hear Din above you, strained groans release from his mouth and he grinds into your hand. His eagerness for friction makes you roll your hips.  You lay there underneath him for a little longer, neither you or him exchanging any words to each other. All you did was continue to pleasure him through his boxers. “Afraid for me to hear your raw voice, Mando?” the thought of him getting more vocal while you stroke his cock excited you. A low grunt answers for you and he grabs your wrist, stopping your movements completely. His hands roughly work on your bra, tossing it aside. Din starts working on pleasuring your pert nipples, making you gasp from the roughness. A low chuckle makes your heart drop to your dripping pussy as he takes a nipple in his mouth. He sucks on it while continuing to pleasure the other one. As much as you loved the attention to your breasts, you wanted all of it directed down to your throbbing cunt. It seems Din picked up on it because he stopped playing with your nipples and goes to pull your panties away. Din moves along your body, leaving trails of kisses along your stomach, stopping short of your panty line. You couldn’t see through the blindfold but you could feel Din’s hot breath on your pussy lips and it made the hair on your arm stand. Nothing happens and you were getting ansty underneath him. “Hey, I’m waiting. Why aren’t you touching me?” you huff impatiently as you reach down to touch him but his hand stops you.  “If you can’t be patient, then I won’t fuck you, cyar’ika.” his voice sounded completely different without the helmet and it made your cunt throb. Fuck. You swallow as you rely on your other senses to guide you. “Yes, Mando,” “Din,” he reminds you harshly, his hands moving to caress your thighs and memorizing how you feel to his touch. “you call me Din when I’m fucking you, cyar’ika. Unless there’s a reason not for you to call me by my real name...” The feeling of his bare skin on your thighs make your body arch, impatiently craving to feel his mouth in between your thighs where your aching cunt begs to be touched. “Y-yes, Din...” His lips meets yours in yearning and he lifts your hips up to rest on top of his shoulders. You gasp at the sudden change of position, his hot breath back on your cunt. You couldn’t see anything but the thrill was prodigious.  “D-Din...” you moan his name softly as his lips trail along the inner part of your thigh. His mustache tickles your skin and your hips grind up, seeking for the dissatisfaction to be taken care of.  His hands squeeze your hips, deciding to not tease you anymore and buries his tongue in your soaking cunt. Your head tilts to the side, moans of pure bliss egging Din to continue. He finds your clit and sucks down hard. You writhe in his grasp to almost get away from the over stimulation but his grip pulls you back into him roughly. “Easy, cyar’ika,” he groans as he takes one of his fingers and plays at the entrance of your pussy. You pant, your mouth clenches shut and wrap your fingers in his hair, tugging gently. The way he feels between your thighs only reminds you that he was still human underneath all that armor. “F-fuck, Din...” you whimper, gasping when a second finger was added, spreading you wide. “just...like that.”  Din holds back a moan at the feeling of your pussy walls squeezing his fingers. “Hear that, cyar’ika?” he pulls his fingers slowly back before plunging them back into you. It draws another whimper from you and it makes Din’s cock jolt in fever. “You’re so fucking wet for me...” You mewl when his fingertips rub that spot deep inside you that make your toes curl in exhilaration. “Y-yes...all for you.” A cry of desperation leaves your lips when Din stops pleasuring you with his fingers and goes to wriggle out of his boxers. He pulls you into his lap, his cock trapped in between your hot and sweaty bodies.  Din’s leaves open mouthed kisses to your chest before gradually moving up to kiss your neck. If you didn’t have the blindfold on, the ecstasy you were feeling would make you see stars. “D-Din...take me already...” Your needy whimper makes Din chuckle against your skin and it makes you grind into him in desperation. “Okay...hold onto me, cyar’ika...” he tells you and you don’t hesitate to wrap your arms tightly around his neck. The feeling of the blunt head of his cock pressing against your entrance sends a thrill of elation through your veins. You stutter at the feeling of Din stretching your walls. Once he was fully seated inside you, the both of you just sit still in complete bliss of how you felt against each other. Your nails scratch along Din’s bare back and he groans from the slight pain. Seeing you a complete, writhing mess in his lap has him wanting more. He wants to hear you scream his name...cry it out...tell the world how good his cock was deep inside of you. He couldn’t get enough of your touch, it was your touch that was stirring a wave of chaos inside of him. It was addicting and he wanted more of it.  “...cyar’ika-” Din moans, holding your hips down and starts thrusting up into your awaiting pussy. With every hard thrust, a grunt rumbles in his chest and he rests his forehead against your chest. You were taken back by surprise as the Mandalorian fucks you in urgency. You go completely cock dumb, your hips meeting Din’s thrusts to feel him against your sweet spot. Din chuckles, his teeth grazing your soft skin and leaving possessive bites all along your body. “What happened to you, cyar’ika? Have nothing to say now?” His teasing demeanor made you huff in slight annoyance but quickly dispersed as he speeds up his thrusting. The small bunk was filled with the sounds of your mixed breathing, squeaking of the cot, and resonating thrust of Din’s hips against yours. You could feel your orgasm edging closer and closer with every deep stroke. You couldn’t remember the last time a man made you cum. “...Din...I’m close-...” you swallow your words, trying to hold on for a little bit longer. Din groans, laying you down gently onto your back. He holds your ass to keep your legs in place around his waist. His body towers over you and he leans down to whisper in your ear. “...I’m going to make you cum so hard...you won’t be able to get out of bed in the morning without my help, cyar’ika...” Your breath hitches in your chest and your stomach lurches in excitement at his promise. “Fine...you better keep your word...” Din smirks as his hands carve out your sides, taking in your goddess-like form. “The first thing you should know about the Mandalorians, cyar’ika...” his sentence trails off as he pulls back a little before thrusting back into you roughly. “...we always keep our word...” The cot creaks underneath the unbearable weight of both of your bodies and the way Din was drive you into the thin mattress. “O-oh, fuck-” you curse, reaching behind you to hold onto the edge of the frame. Your body leaps when Din’s fingers tangle with yours. You couldn’t see his face but the feeling of his hot breath over your face was enough to tell you how much pleasure you were giving him.  “Cum for me, Din...” you whisper, leaning up a little to capture his lips with yours. He kisses you back but you could tell you caught him off guard because his body went rigid again. “...I want to feel you to cum for me...” A worn groan is muffled by your kiss as his thrusting became sloppy. “As you wish, cyar’ika,” his free hand works in between your close bodies and starts to rub and pinch your neglected clit. “only if you cum first...” You yelp in shock from the sensitivity and can already feel the dam start to shatter. “I...I’m gonna cum...Din...” you whimper out as he goes faster. It was like a tsunami washes over your body and you release on his cock. Your body falls into an abyss of complete ecstasy and you felt like you were floating in air from the mind shattering orgasm. Your cunt walls squeezing him tightly. Din groans before he feels himself following behind you. “O-oh, Maker, shit-!” you cry out, arching into his body and your muscles going into a spasm. With a few more thrusts, he pulls out and releases on your stomach and forces out a groan while trying to milk his cock with his hand. “...cyar’ika...” the word is ghosting on his lips. It took everything in his power to not stuff you full with his cum. The both of you were exhausted and the musky smell of sweat and sex fills your nose. Once he was able to catch his breath, Din goes to sit on the edge of the cot. His helmet was at his feet and he picks it up to set it beside him. No words exchanged between you two and you were slightly confused. You could only hope that it wasn’t a bad experience for him, it sure as hell wasn’t for you. “Here,” he tosses you something to clean yourself up with. “clean yourself up. I’m going to go wash up.” that’s all he says before he’s walking out of the bunk and to the fresher. You take this as a signal to remove your blindfold. You’re sitting up in the cot and see that he had given you his shirt to clean off the remains of your scandalous activity. A sigh rests on your tongue as you keep your disappointment down. You knew the rules and you should be grateful that he actually fucked you. Once you were cleaned up, you changed back into your clothes and watching yourself when he stood. At least Din kept his promise...you couldn’t feel your legs. You see the steam seeping through the door of the fresher room, telling you that he was still in the shower. You were hoping to say goodnight to him but you couldn’t wait around for him. Sleep was trying to bring you down so you decided to comply and lay down to sleep. Your body curls up tightly to warm up your body and your mind went hazy. All you could think about was him. After some time, Din exits the fresher, dressed from head to toe in his armor again. While in the fresher, he had time to recollect his thoughts. After having you, he had a hard time of thinking about anything else. He didn’t know what kind of power you held over him but he wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. “Cyar’ika-” Din goes to say, opening the hatch to the bunk. You were fast asleep on his cot and he pauses. Even asleep, you were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen...and that made you dangerous. He closes the door and turns to walk back up the cock pit. Your lingering touch on his skin burned him and he couldn’t get the thought out of his head of what your face would have looked like when he made you cum.  Kriff, what is she doing to me?
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litwitlady · 4 years
Text
What We Carry With Us
CW: Alex experiences a combat flashback in this fic. There’s mild depictions of blood and violence. Please read responsibly.
The snowstorm hits earlier than forecasted. Alex hadn’t expected to be locked away in Michael’s bunker while the snow accumulated up above. Hadn’t expected three feet of snow to fall so quickly with at least three more on the way. Hadn’t expected to be snowed in with no one but Michael Guerin for the foreseeable future.
Michael manages to shovel a path from the bunker to his airstream with his telekinesis. They hole up in the trailer for warmth, the generator prepared for a few lingering cold days. Alex doesn’t know what he and Michael are at the moment. Only knows they’ve been spending a lot of time together. Meals at the Crashdown, long discussions about Caulfield and family legacy down in the bunker, drinks at the Pony. Maybe it’s just friendship. Maybe it’s more. Maybe it’s both.
The point is – he doesn’t know. And there’s danger in not knowing.
Michael throws himself on his bed, kicking off his boots and propping himself up on his pillows. Arm thrown lazily behind his head. Alex watches out of the corner of his eye, still taken all these years later at the long, lean form he paints against crisp, clean sheets. It’s one of the main reasons his sheets never stay crisp or clean for very long.
Alex doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s standing awkwardly, shoulder sloping into Michael’s makeshift closet. The door nothing but prettied up plywood that scarcely holds his weight. He tries to act natural, but his brain keeps attacking him with explicit images of the last night he spent here. How he’d climbed behind Michael and fucked him so hard the thin bedframe started to splinter. And then waking up the next morning to Isobel and those goddamn bagels.
There’s a clock somewhere ticking, echoing loudly in the narrow trailer. Alex feels his eye start to twitch. Tries to think of something to say – anything to break this uncomfortable silence. He dares a glance at Michael. His eyes are closed, his breathing has deepened. Alex wonders at his ability to fall asleep in a moment this rife with tension. But then Michael’s hand pats the bed next to him. ‘You can sit down, Alex. I’m not going to bite unless you ask me to.’ He doesn’t bother opening his eyes, but his lips quirk up. Doesn’t need to see Alex to know the effect he has on him – will always have on him.
It's a risk. Getting that close. But then Michael looks at him, eyes filled with a naked need, and Alex is moving as quickly as he can to close the distance between them. Falling on the flat mattress at Michael’s feet. He hates himself just a little. For all the ways he never says ‘no’. For all the ways he always says ‘no’. And how quickly he manages the contradiction.
But he’s trying to change that.
Michael pushes himself up a little higher on his pillows. ‘Can I ask you a question?’ Lines are suddenly furrowed across his forehead. They put Alex on edge immediately.
‘Okay.’ Alex sounds hesitant, worried. And he is those things, but he’s also curious. He watches Michael bite at his bottom lip, running the question back and forth in his mind. Working out the kinks and formulating the perfect calculus.
‘You’re going to think this is weird. And it probably is. So, feel free to tell me to fuck off.’ He’s fiddling with the bottom button on his shirt, pushing and pulling through the wrong buttonhole. Alex can’t help but fixate on the small patches of skin he keeps exposing. He knows every inch of Michael’s body, can feel that precise stretch of skin yawn beneath his fingertips, and yet he’s still such a marvel.
Alex settles back against the headboard that doubles as a kitchen wall. ‘Whatever I’m imaging in my head right now is probably way worse.’ He shrugs and picks at his cuticles. Heartrate slightly elevated. He notices how close their knees are, wonders what would happen if his leg crossed that invisible barrier to rub against Michael’s. Would there be any room left in the airstream for questions? For any words at all?
The yellowed newspaper normally taped to the window has come loose and is flapping softly against the glass. Michael reaches up to flatten the corner back into place, but the act is futile. ‘What was it like over there? In the Middle East?’
Immediately, a distant desert landscape unfolds in Alex’s mind. He’s back in Iraq, at that tiny village market. A bright Friday morning. Sun so low he can feel his skin burn. The hustle and bustle of people kicking up the dirt and dust, his eyes watering. In the muddy road, there’s a boy kicking a soccer ball. A little girl cries in her mother’s arms. Several dogs sniff the food stalls. A group of men are having tea outside a small bakery. And then the world is upside down. The earth shakes with so much screaming. The spray of someone’s blood soaking through his fatigues. A sudden, searing heat and his skin on fire.
He comes to with Michael violently shaking him. Shouting his name in frantic whispers. But Alex can’t hear him. There are tears falling down his face, dotting his t-shirt with little minuscule constellations. His hands are shaking and his breathing ragged. Michael’s hands have moved from his shoulders into his hair, pulling their foreheads together. Alex concentrates on the jagged edges of Michael’s half-chewed fingernails scraping across the sensitive skin of his scalp. Syncs his breathing to that soothing back and forth scratch.
When sound returns, Michael is saying sorry on repeat. Alex takes several deep breaths and puts his hands on Michael’s chest, pushing gently. Wanting to calm him but also needing space. Alex reaches up and rips the flapping newspaper from the window, flattening his palm across the freezing glass. The cold grounding him in time and place. He continues to breath for several more minutes. Michael has gone silent.
Alex’s heartrate slowly returns to normal and he grabs Michael’s hand. ‘I’m okay. I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting that. Just got caught off-guard. That hasn’t happened in months.’
‘No, Alex, I shouldn’t have asked. And with no warning. I’m so, so sorry.’ Michael’s hands reach out for Alex but stop short. The rules have changed, and he doesn’t want to make another mistake. Doesn’t want to end up hurting Alex more than he already has. He balls his hands into fists and drops them at his side. ‘Do you need anything? Some water?’
‘Water would be good.’ His throat is dry, and he knows Michael needs something to do. While Michael digs through his mini-fridge, Alex hugs his good knee to his chest and stares down at the indent in his jeans where his prosthesis ends. He tries to curl the toes on his right foot, but, of course, nothing happens. He hates how much his chest still aches at the disappointment. He’s never told anyone about that day. Decides to change that as Michael returns with bottled water.
‘Thanks.’ He uncaps the water and gulps down half the bottle in one go. He swipes at his mouth with the back of his hand and tugs Michael back down onto the bed. They sit facing each other, legs touching at every point possible – Alex no longer needing or wanting the extra space. Just the opposite, actually. He places the water down behind his head and grabs for Michael’s hands. ‘I’m glad you asked – despite what just happened. I feel like if I was allowed to talk about it more, I might be able to heal better. But no one ever wants the truth about my service, about my leg. Everyone just wants a hero to martyr on main street. A celebration and a parade. A purple heart for the front-page picture. And in all that, I get lost.’
Michael pushes a stray lock of Alex’s hair behind his ear. ‘You’re never lost to me. I always see you. Maybe sometimes I just don’t know how to ask. I guess that’s pretty obvious by now.’
Alex smiles at him and puts his hands on Michael’s knees, using them to center his focus for what he’s about to say. ‘You know, war is often boring. You sit in makeshift buildings in crumbling old air bases or bake beneath the desert sun in stitched together tent cities. You talk about home and play cards. Go on routine missions that result in fucking nothing. Wake up, repeat. Wake up, repeat. And so much of that was not bad. So much of that was forging an odd sense of family. Which felt good.’
Outside the snow has briefly turned to ice. The wind has picked up and the trailer sways. The temperature has dropped despite the generator’s best work. Michael grabs a blanket from beneath them and spreads it across their laps. Searches underneath for Alex’s hands on his knees. Waits for him to continue.
Alex inhales deeply, squeezes Michael’s knees and keeps going. ‘There are maybe a handful of days when anything big happens on purpose. Missions you understand are likely to go south sooner rather than later. Moments when you stare at a living, breathing person. Finger on a trigger. And every time you squeeze that trigger, so much time spent trying to convince yourself you’ve saved American lives. But you haven’t. All you’ve done is commit murder. And all you are is a murderer.’
He feels Michael flinch at that word – ‘murderer’. But it’s the truth Alex has to live with for the rest of his life. And now, so does Michael. Michael, the not so secret alien. Alex, the not so secret murderer. One of those things decidedly worse than the other.
‘You’re not –,’
Michael tries, but Alex will not let him. ‘I am. And no one – especially not you – gets to pretend otherwise.’ Alex is staring him down. Eyes wide and as serious as he’s ever been. Holding his breath waiting for Michael’s acceptance. Otherwise, the conversation is over. And perhaps so much more.
There’s a showdown happening between them. He can feel Michael’s resistance. Is surprised when Michael slides impossibly closer, practically climbing into his lap. Large, familiar hands on his cheeks – his head held steady, golden-hazel eyes boring into his own. ‘You’ve killed people, Alex. I get that. I do. And I hate the fucking military, so I know there was no noble reason for what you did. That American patriotism is a scourge upon this planet. It preys upon the most vulnerable among us. Scared kids with nowhere else to go. I have understood that since the day you left for basic. Better than you, even. I have never and will never see you as a murderer. I have never and will never love you any less.’
They are both right and they are both wrong. And for the first time, that’s okay.
Michael places his hand on Alex’s right leg. At the exact spot where what remains of his leg gives way to his prosthesis. ‘You don’t have to tell me now. But I’d like to know what happened when you’re ready.’
Alex rubs the sore muscles in his thigh. ‘Suicide bomber. Well, three suicide bombers. We weren’t on mission. Just visiting a village market on a quiet Friday morning.’
Michael shoves Alex’s hands aside, replacing them with his own. Massaging the knots out with his talented fingers.
He sighs and continues. ‘I don’t remember much other than the putrid smell of burning flesh. May not have even been my own. Everything erupted into chaos. My ankle had been severed by a burning piece of twisted metal. They had to field amputate my foot. I woke up in Germany with a bad infection. More surgery, less leg. But I was lucky. We were a squadron of ten and then we were three.’
Neither says anything for a long time. What is there to say anyway?
Alex yawns. Michael can see the exhaustion settling in around his eyes. ‘You should sleep. It’s getting late.’ The sun long since disappeared beyond the horizon. ‘Take the bed. I’ll crash in my chair.’
But Alex won’t let him leave. ‘Help me with the prosthetic.’ Together they remove Alex’s pants and free his leg. Michael strips down to just his boxer briefs. Alex follows suit. They curl together underneath the wool blanket. Michael tucking Alex into the crook of his shoulder. Alex’s arm tossed across Michael’s stomach, fingers stroking at the soft skin along his ribcage.
‘Thank you for telling me.’ Michael whispers the words into Alex’s hair, following them with a kiss. Alex stretches his neck up and Michael bends down to kiss him on the mouth. Slow and easy.
There’s a clock somewhere ticking, rhythmic and lulling. And as the snow piles up outside, they fall into the best sleep of their lives.
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