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#(would their god help them deal with their patron once they notice? or leave them to the consequences of their actions?)
heniareth · 9 months
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A cleric or paladin so devoted to their mission they multiclass into warlock to be able to get spellslots back easier to dish out more guiding bolts and heals and divine smites and
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michwritesstuff · 1 year
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Knight in Shining Khakis (Top Gun: Maverick: Jake Seresin)
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a/n: something I wrote quickly since i’ve been in a writing slump, but I thought this was cute and fun so I hope you guys enjoy :)))
summary: female reader (she/her) x jake “hangman” seresin Another rowdy night at the Hard Deck leaves you searching for Rooster to come and save you from the unruly and horny patrons. But when Rooster is nowhere in sight, Hangman offers his assistance in helping you out. He turns out to be just as charming and cocky as you expected, but kinder than you thought.
notes/warnings: mentions of unwanted drunk attention and creepy men, age-gap, somewhat fake dating but not really
word count: 1.0k
It was a busier Saturday night at the Hard Deck with the influx of the spring break crowd in San Diego. A bunch of college-aged kids dying to test their luck and charm on the military men and women.
You understood, just a short 2 years ago you fell into the same category. Now you were studying for your Master’s in Social Work while working at the local bar in your free time.
You had grown close with the regulars, chatting with them while you served and sometimes meeting up during the day for coffee or just a beach hang out. They made it enjoyable. The only downside to working at the Hard Deck was the drunk men who thought being an asshole and making offensive comments would get them anywhere.
Hence your current state. You marched up to the dart board where Coyote and Hangman had been playing round after round for the past hour. Glancing back to the busy bar, you shuddered at the thought of having to deal with all the horny boys alone.
You rapidly tapped on Hangman’s shoulder after watching him hit his third bullseye in a row.
He turned around, a confused look on his face before his lips lifted into a small smirk at the notice of your presence, his eyes glancing down to your figure.
You were just a sight for sore eyes, he thought. Your ripped denim shorts hugging your hips and accentuating your waist in just the right ways, while still being short enough that it looked like your legs were never-ending. And don’t even get him started on the tank top that framed your collarbones in the most unbelievably sexy way.
You stood with your hands on your hips, foot tapping impatiently as you watched Hangman unashamedly look you over.
“Where’s Bradley? I need his help.”
“Snuck off with Phoenix a few minutes ago, pretty sure they left” he replied, taking a sip of his beer as his eyes quickly scanned your figure once more.
“Ugh of course he did,” you whispered under your breath, eyes scanning back behind you to the unattended bar where the unruly patrons whistled and waved over to you. The boys laughing and pushing each other in the process.
God, you really hated college boys.
“But how can I be of service sugar?”
To the untrained eye it may seem like you were having a regular conversation with Hangman, which couldn’t be any further from the truth. Out of the entire dagger squad you barely conversed with Hangman. He was always around, and you would steal glances back and forth, but you rarely ever chatted with him one on one.
Bradley was usually your go-to guy for this type of thing. It happened on accident one night when a guy was just a little to forward and wouldn’t leave you alone. All it took was for Bradley to say “Hey asshat! Leave my girl alone,” while dressed in his service khakis and the guy buggered off. From that point on Bradley would come around and chat you up, pretending to be your boyfriend and watch the guys walk away, pride on the floor and dick tucked away.
Any of the Dagger squad could pull it off really, even sweet-ole Bob who looked like he wouldn’t hurt a fly could be intimidating if he wanted to be, especially when he was in uniform. But Jake, he was intimidating all the time. Something about his icy green eyes pierced your soul and you found it harder than you thought to hold eye contact with him.
“I need you to pretend to bemyboyfriend,” you whispered, rushing and slurring your words at the end.
Hangman was pretty sure he heard you clearly. He knew what routine you and Bradley had going on. He had seen it time and time again while you worked at the Hard Deck. You would leave the bar, bringing Bradley his favorite draft beer and he would follow you back. Chatting you up for a few minutes, give you a wink and wave goodbye to the retreating backs of the men who had tried so hard to take you home.
He always wished it was him who you would’ve asked at the beginning.
And now here you were, looking cuter than ever and asking him for help.
“What was that darling?”
“Hangmannn,” you whined. Hearing you whine out to him did more to him than you would’ve thought. Of course he was going to help you, just wanted to see you get a little flustered first.
Of course he was being difficult right now. You knew he had heard you. You couldn’t believe that you were letting yourself inflate his ego even more. He was gorgeous, you couldn’t deny that, but he was cocky and arrogant. And be knew it, that somehow irritated you the most. He knew what he did to you and just couldn’t help himself.
“Alright, lets go sweets,” he smiled, placing his beer on the table and intertwining his fingers with yours as he led you back to the bar.
But when you went to let go of his hand, Hangman surprised you.
He followed you behind the bar, picking up a dish rag to wipe the spilled drinks that had accumulated during your time away.
“Hangman you don’t ha—”
“Jake,” he corrected, a playful grin reaching his eyes as he admired your confused face.
“Call me Jake.”
“Jake,” you smiled, nodding your head and turning away so he couldn’t catch another look at your flustered state. You enjoyed how his name rolled off your tongue, it felt personal. And little did you know, so did he.
Jake had far surpassed your expectations as a fake boyfriend. He wasn’t overbearing or showboating. He simply just talked, keeping your attention glued to him the entire night as he helped you serve the bar.  And it worked, you felt like you were in your own little world as the two of you continued conversation, the unruly patrons at the back of your memory as all you did was hand them a drink and a half-hearted smile.
From talking about your families and growing up to the most embarrassing moments of your college days, you talked for hours on end. You don’t think you’ve ever laughed so hard in your entire life.
And when your shift ended, Jake had helped you close up. He walked you to your car, hands intertwined, you don’t even remember whose hand reached for whose.
You dropped your hand from his, unlocking your door and giving him one final glance.
“Thanks Jake, I had fun tonight.”
“Anytime darlin” he dipped his head down to yours, pretending to dip a cowboy hat towards you.
You shook your head with a boisterous laugh before climbing into your car and reversing out of the parking lot.
Jake decided from that point on he would do anything and everything he could to make you laugh like that again, and you had a sneaking suspicion that you would let him.
check out the rest of my masterlist :))
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taeescript · 3 years
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29 + 1 (Part Two)
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𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother.
𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (squint harder than before for taehyung x reader) 
𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin; a dash of enemies to lovers au 
𝔴𝔠: 7.6k
𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: language; a plethora of drunk people, maybe a sext, and a ton of lying (possible implication of impending smut?!) 
𝔞/𝔫: this part came out longer than i thought it would be but *shrugs* feedback and thoughts always welcomed. enjoy (:  𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: DailyHive is real; this is not associated with it 
part one || part three 
The bright pop music that is blaring from the speakers does little to slow your animated talking. Bodies are packed into the small local bar, and students on summer break fill booths and form a snake of impatient, drunk (and horny) people. A slow trickle of the brazen has started to fill the dance floor as the evening morphs into the night.
  You whip your hair into a ponytail and dab at the sweat that is beading your forehead. You definitely should have worn that sleeveless top rather than this thicker t-shirt dress.
  “So, is he like your sugar daddy or something?” Taehyung asks, “Also drink.”
  Friday nights were usually spent at home, snuggled under the blankets in your pjs binging another rewatch of Friends. After work today, you could no longer hold onto your secret and invited Taehyung out for drinks. His girlfriend, Fei, was supposed to join but had been held back for overtime.
  You tip the shot back with no chase.
  “You’re a monster,” he comments as he bites into his lemon piece.
  The two of you had made a bet at the beginning of the evening: you each chose a pop song and each time it played, the nominee had to take a shot. That was your fourth of the night, and to say there was a bit of a buzz is an understatement.
  “It’s all throat technique, Tae,” you say with a bit of a slur, “Hit the back and swallow. No innuendo intended. Also, why the hell haven’t you had any to drink?”
  “You picked ‘Peaches’ for fuck’s sake.”
  “I told you I don’t listen to pop music. It was the first one playing.”
  “And shouldn’t that have told you something? Justin Bieber of all people?”
  “Shut up. It’s your song.” You nod at the pink-faced barista for another round. She slaps your order in front of the two of you without so much a glance.
You don’t even know what song is playing, but you feel quite satisfied watching Taehyung make a face as he downs it in one go.
  He clears his throat after the liquor has burned its way down to his stomach. “Back to my question: is he your sugar daddy?”
  You bark out a laugh. Was he? Perhaps the fact that he paid for fancy meals at lunch? Those have been his one o’clock meetings for the past two months.
  “I don’t know. I’d rather he buy me a car or pay my rent if anything. A casual 1k a week wouldn’t be so bad either. We just sit in his office and eat in secret, Tae. He’s ‘training me in the art of culinary cuisine’. I think it’s just so I don’t embarrass him by stuffing a shrimp cocktail up my nose.”
  “You do know – ”
“Yes, I know. And I would never. It’s a metaphor. It’s just that the position ‘intern’ is quite loosely defined at DailyHive, don’t you think?”
  Taehyung rinses his mouth with water before speaking. “So let me get this right. Mr. Kim calls you into his office, says he’s going to take you as his guest to the biggest tech event of the year, treats you to lunches and doesn’t ask for anything in return? No secret midnight meetups or shady business deals…”
  You shake your head.
  “Damn,” Taehyung says, resting his arm on the bar table, “Forget sugar daddy. He’s just daddy.”
  Sticking your tongue out, you gag visibly at his comment. “Do not ever call him that again, Tae; ev-er.”
  He laughs and watches you pensively. After a moment’s thought, he says, “Nobody has ever called me Tae.”
  “What do they call you then?” you reply, wrinkling your brows together. A cute brunette across the room catches your eyes and for the briefest of seconds, you wonder what a one-night-stand would feel like.
  He shrugs. “Just Taehyung.”
  The brunette waves in your direction. You are about to return his wave when an equally cute brunette runs up to him. He promptly kisses her before swivelling her around to join his group of friends.
  “Sorry. Do you want me to stop? I just assumed since we were out of the office…”
Oh Fate, how cruel you are. Life of twenty cats and solidarity, here you come. Maybe dogs. You feel like you could be more of a dog person.
  “No,” he stops you, “You can call me Tae. Whatever you want.”
  You turn your attention back on the also cute brunette in front of you. In all honestly, despite his youthful god-like countenance, he looks slightly out of place at this college bar with you in his upstanding business attire and dorkishly adorable thick-framed glasses.
  “Sure. How about Tee-Tee? Or Hyungie? The TaeMan?” You wiggle your brows with the suggestion.
  “God help me.”
  The two of you clink your shot glasses together even though neither of your songs are being played.
  His Apple watch lights up to indicate an incoming message. He relays the text to you, “Fei’s done work. She’s on her way now.” You can’t help but notice a shift in his previously excited demeanor.
  You nudge him with your elbow. “Aren’t you excited? She’ll need a glass of wine or two to destress after work. I might be projecting onto you for this part, but you’re buzzed. So after we get her to unwind I’m sure the overwhelming power of pheromones will get you lucky tonight.” You wink at him to emphasize your point.  
“She’s not a big drinker. She’s probably just going to come and ask to leave in five minutes. Bars like this aren’t really her thing either,” he states. He then unbuckles his watch and tucks it away into the pocket of his pants. Undoing the cuffs of his shirt, he rolls up the sleeves and continues to regard you solemnly. “Okay, next round is one me. Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to switch songs?”
  You notice how nice, long, and slender his fingers are. Plus the thing of girls liking when men have visible veins on their forearm? That had never really caught your attention until now.
  “She’s a bit of a bitch,” you say and immediately regret, “Shit, sorry. That just slipped out. Alcohol.”
  He offers you his water to drink.
  “I mean, she’s a little…uptight at times? But people can be completely different in and out of work. I can only imagine how stressful it is in her position. Working overtime until 9pm on a Saturday night seriously sucks,” you say to try and mend your wrongdoing.
  “Fei in the office is basically Fei at home,” he says softly, “It’s always work with her.”
  “We support career-driven women, yeah?” A smile is offered from you to him.
  He finally lets out a small one and nods. Out of the blue, he reaches over and covers your hand with his. Staring intently into your eyes, he says, “I know she makes you do her reports and occupies your time to do her coffee runs as well. You can say no to her. She may be my girlfriend, but you’re technically my intern, and I will stand on your side no matter what.”
  “Um, okay. Thanks, Tae,” you say. His sincerity has caught you off guard.
  At that moment, the sound of clicking heels pierce its way into your eardrums through the noise of the even busier bar. Taehyung quickly retracts his hand.
  Fei arrives, not a hair out of place in her tightly pulled bun. Her lips are painted a striking red against the paleness of her skin, and her manicured nails dig into the forearm of Taehyung when she reaches them. Even though she is wearing an otherwise drab office business suit, the curvature of her body draws quite a few glances from the younger men in the crowd.
  “It’s like a zoo here,” she sneers, turning away from a sacrificial lamb who had been bold enough step out of his circle of friends to greet her with a sleezy “hey”.
  “Hi, Fei. Busy night?” you greet her first.
  She gives you a tight-lipped smile. “Yes. I don’t know why you weren’t there. Isn’t it the intern’s job to complete reports?”
  Again, a loosely defined use of “intern” at DailyHive.
  You return her smile with a crisp one of your own.
  She turns away from you and regards Taehyung, who looks as if he had been the sacrificial lamb instead. “Teddybear, let’s go home. You know this type of place isn’t my vibe. I’m getting a headache already.”
  You raise an eyebrow at his pet name.
  He turns a little bit pinker, if that is possible under the current alcohol-induced glow of his cheeks, and says, “Um, sure. Y/N, are you going to be okay getting home?”
  Waving him off, you show him your phone. “30% left. I’ve got pepper spray in my bag and enough booze in me to not run from a fight. I’ll call an Uber home soon, don’t worry.”
  Fei has already begun to fight her way through the squirming, dancing bodies. Taehyung glances quickly at her and turns back to you once last time. “Text me that you’re home safe.”
  “Will do, boss,” you smile at him warmly.
  He lingers for just a moment more before running after his impatiently waiting girlfriend.
  You turn back to the bar and order another beer for yourself. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is perhaps the biggest perk of being single.
...
On the opposite side of town, sinking deeply into a soft lounge chair is Seokjin enjoying a rare evening out with his best friend. He has swapped his usual attire for a more relaxed fit of a white oversized crewneck and techwear bottoms. A heavy, exorbitant fur-lined long leather coat hangs on the coat rack beside the door to their private VVIP room. He swirls his glass of Chateau Lafite before sipping delicately.
  Outside, only a handful of patrons sit quietly engrossed in their own conversations. It is a relatively empty night at the high-end lounge. A lady sings sultrily on stage with the smooth background of a saxophone as accompaniment.
  Junho has poured himself another glass while he is talking to Seokjin. Seokjin had since slightly tuned out his friend’s rather elongated rendition of another celebrity sighting to occupy his mind with another individual.
  “Earth to Jin? When did you get so lightweight since I’ve been gone?” Junho waves a hand in front of Seokjin’s nose.
  Seokjin blinks to refocus.
  “The mansion I bought last year or the one I bought last month?” he reiterates. Sensing that Seokjin truly had no idea what the topic at hand had been, he tries again.
  “Where should I do my birthday party this year, man? I thought the mansion from last year since it’s closer to the city, but I feel like it’s been reused too many times. It’s not completely furnished yet, but the property I got last month is significantly bigger and I can probably host more people.”
  “The new place then,” Seokjin answers half-heartedly.
  Junho grumbles something intelligible.
  “What did you say?”
  “Nothing,” Junho sighs, “Tell me what’s new with you. How’s that little project of yours going? I still can’t believe you won’t let me know who you’re planning to take to the Gala.”
  Seokjin had refused to release even the slightest detail about you to Junho. Letting him know that Seokjin had agreed to one of his plans would be enough to inflate Junho’s ego for at least a little while.
  “It’s been going...”
  Junho waits for more of Seokjin’s answer, but his friend’s attention has been turned to a received text.
  10:17pm “Safe and sound, Teddy Bear.”
  10:17pm “Or should I say Taeddybear? 🥴”
10:18pm “That last beer done me rael godo.”
  10:18pm “Real good**”
  Seokjin raises a brow at the unknown number. He responds back.
  10:18pm “Who is this? I think you’ve got the wrong number.”
  Junho crosses his legs and sits back with a sigh. He presses the button to request for an attendant.
  10:19pm “You know who… Anyways, I just wanted to say thank you for saying you’ve got my back. It’s definitely appreciated.”
  The response doesn’t do much except to further pique Seokjin’s curiosity.
  “Sorry,” he says, sliding his phone back into his pocket, “Rogue text I think.”
  Junho shrugs. “Is that right? Seems to have caught your attention.” There is now a manner of indifference to his voice.
  “It’s going well, by the way – answering your question. I mean, all things considered. It’s not like I have to teach her how not to stuff a cocktail shrimp up your nose.”
  His friend snorts. “I’d be concerned and against this person if it’s who you’re planning to bring.”
  Seokjin’s phone buzzes again.
  10:21pm “Pray for me when I wake up with the worst hangover of my life. I’m going to bed now.”
  A moment of silence.
  10:21pm “I hope I didn’t piss off Fei tonight for stealing you for the evening.”
  10:22pm “Okay I’ll shut up now. Please don’t tell me you’re reading this. You should be getting some 😼💦.”
  The emoji makes Seokjin choke, liquid sputtering from his lips.
  Junho cusses. He angrily dabs at the speckle of red wine that has landed on his pearly white top.
  10:23pm Download attached image. “Just in case, here’s a little something to get the night started 😉”
  “What the hell man?” Junho gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. Luckily, the previously called attendant had arrived in time to escort him.
Seokjin barely notices that he is alone in room as he taps the download button. It isn’t until he has returned home and is looking at the picture one last time before bed that he realizes who his mysterious texter is.
  The employee nametag clipped to the collar of your workday shirt hanging on the arm of a chair can only be found when zoomed in past your painted toes and naked feet.
... 
You cannot hide your nervousness when you arrive at your “lunch meeting” the following Monday morning. All weekend, you had cursed yourself for not better checking who the recipient of your texts were before pressing send. Never had you thought that in your drunken stupor you would mix up “The Devil” in your contact list with “Taehyung Kim.” Curse you and your lack of friends beginning with the letter “T”.
  You balk before, a hand poised in perfect position for a knock. Maybe he didn’t download it? And even if he did, it was just a troll feet pic. You had made sure that it was as pg-13 as possible before you had sent it.
  “Hi,” you greet sheepishly when he has given you the go to enter.
  In a smart plain blue button-up and round frames that are almost certainly for the aesthetics, the CEO of the company and your boss sizes you up and down.
  “I know we’ve gotten to know each other better these past few weeks. But you’d think it’s still common courtesy to at least make eye contact,” he says. You look at him wide eyed without a word.
  He rolls his eyes but does not gesture to your usual seat. In fact, you don’t spy a take-out container in sight. He instead stands up and picks up his phone, walking to the door. He notices you have yet to move.
  “Let’s get moving. You’ve only got a 45 minute lunch.”
  You scramble to match his speed and catch Taehyung’s eye as you grab your jacket at your desk. Taehyung’s gaze follows you as you hurry to leave in pursuit of Seokjin’s coattail.
... 
The restaurant is a popular vegan establishment with a plethora of greenery crawling up its high ceilings and a window-framed overview of the city’s skyline. Waiters and waitresses who may just as well be walking New York Fashion Week serve you brunch mimosas on a golden plate; they attentively wait to the side in case you ever run out of water.
  Common topics are rare between the two of you. Initially, you respectfully kept quiet and only answered questions when asked, but you have never been one for awkward silence. Yes, it’s awkward only if you make it awkward; there is just no denying the hanging suspense that curls your toes each time. Recently, you have started with simple inquiries regarding the company, who they might meet at the Gala and everyday mundane topics.
  “You’re probably wondering why we’re out of the office,” Seokjin says. He continues shortly after taking a bite of his meal and ignores the look of your surprise at his initiation of a conversation. “My office has been getting stuffy with the warmer weather so I thought it’d be nice to get some fresh air. How’s the food?”
You nod, making small sounds of contentment as you chew on the Avocado Lime Tartare. Mmm… tart-y.
  He takes a deep breath in, stalling the incoming conversation. “It’s my friend’s birthday this next weekend.”
  “Oh,” you say, “Happy early birthday to him.”
  “He’s my best friend.”
  “Well… An extra happy early birthday to him.”
  A sigh. “Are you free next weekend?”
  Your chewing comes to a halt and you blink once at his question. Next weekend is the weekend before the Silver Gala. It is also the sole weekend before your birthday the following Friday after the Gala. You had hoped to spend it with Taehyung and maybe even Jimin who had promised to be in town on a long overdue vacation despite your chastising to visit your parents first.
  He senses your trepidation. Quickly, he explains himself, 
“He’s having a birthday party Saturday night. He has a place about an hour north of here. I can have somebody pick you up if that’s more convenient. I don’t have a birthday present for him and thought it’d be nice for you to meet him.”
  “You’re giving him me for a present?” you ask, incredulously.
  He bites his tongue. He never anticipated how awkward this conversation could go.
  “You’re going as my plus one. He really wants to meet you; in fact, he insisted that you be there. He’ll be at the gala too. I have something else planned for his birthday present,” he adds hastily, “Besides, you’re less than qualified as a present.”
  Musing silently to yourself, you wonder if in any situation should a human be qualified as a present. Despite that, you hate yourself as you agree on the spot.
  The rest of the lunch passes by quickly in dull silence. As Seokjin pays for the meal on the company card (and hands you the receipt for reimbursement), you note that there has been no comment made on any strange photos texted to him over the weekend.
  Perhaps being nonchalantly implied as a human birthday gift to a stranger is your karma for sending weird texts to your boss.
  Seokjin stays inside the car as he drops you off at the office after lunch, already preparing for his next business meeting. You nod your goodbye and step onto the pavement through the courteously held open door of the limousine.
“Y/N, try a soft pink. Fuchsia is not your colour,” he tells you as the door is closed.  
He then leaves you standing in front of the large office doors, staring at your chipped, week-old purple toenails.
... 
“I’m not exactly expecting a package in the mail or a dress laid out on the hotel bed – ”
“You guys are staying at a hotel?” Taehyung says over the phone.
  You are standing in your bedroom, an hour before when Seokjin is supposed to pick you up as an offering to his best friend. There are two dresses laid out on your Hello Kitty bed covers: a simple black dress you had worn once when you were a little bit more in shape and your prom dress.
  “No, I’m at home. But I mean, let me play into this movie metaphor.”
  “You suck at metaphors.”
  You have your phone propped up on some pillows so that you can see Taehyung as you debate your fashion decision. He is in a relaxed white tee, hair messily framing his face after a shower and a bowl of popcorn in his hands. You watch as a droplet of water runs down his face from his still-wet hair. He nonchalantly licks it off from the side of his mouth.
  “As I was saying, it wouldn’t hurt to get me something. He made it seem like it was a big deal. Like doesn’t the male lead usually surprise the female lead with a big bouquet of flowers and this over-the-top expensive dress which she wears and makes the male lead fall head over heels in love with her?”
  He chews silently on a kernel then probes, “You want Mr. Kim to fall in love with you?”
  “No,” you hastily correct, “It’s a metaphor. I think you’re the one who sucks at metaphors.”
  There is a beep on your phone to indicate you have another incoming call.
  “Tae, I’m going to have to call you back. My brother’s calling me,” you tell him. The black dress; your old prom dress is way too early 2000s. Black never hurts.
  “Okay. Have fun tonight. Pretend that it’s your birthday party. And then I’ll meet you for brunch tomorrow, my treat? You can tell me all about it,” he says. “Also the black. You look cute in that one.”
  “My party if I was 30, rich and successful. Oh wait, I’ll have one thing in common soon; that’s a start. Thanks though. I’ll call you tomorrow morning once I get up,” you say, then switch the call over to your brother. You had missed the flush of his cheeks as you busily swipe your phone.
Sticking the prom dress back into your closet, you rummage around the meager display of shoeboxes for a pair of high heels.
  “Hey, Jimin,” you greet over the phone.
  “Jesus, I do not need to be accosted by my half-naked sister,” he yells over the phone.
  You turn rapidly, seeing that you had accidentally continued a video call from when you had hung up on Taehyung. You throw a pillow over the camera in your haste to cover yourself up.
  “I was going to ask why you’re dressed like that but on second thought, I think I’ll leave your sexual exploits as your own secret.”
  Despite how disturbed you feel about this comment, his cheerful voice makes you smile.
  “So little sis, the weekend before the big three-oh!”
  “Please stop reminding me.”
  “Where do you want to meet tonight? I just got off the plane, but I can be ready to meet in about an hour. I booked a hotel close to the airport.”
  Shit. You forgot to tell Jimin. These heels will have to do.
  “Um… I, uh…”
  “What?”
  You clear your throat and begin to undress in front of the mirror. You have a sudden conscious thought that the dusty treadmill in your living room seems to be staring daggers at your back. 
  “I’ve got plans tonight.”
  “Plans? I wasn’t even aware you had friends here.”
  “Ouch, Jimin. But yes, I have friends. In fact, I am meeting a friend for brunch tomorrow if you want to join. I’m sure he’ll be okay with it.”
  “He?” Jimin repeats, “Should I put on my big brother boxing gloves? Give him a good talking to in case he’s interested in my baby sister?” Pause. “Was that who you were calling before?”  
You bite your answer back, not feeling the need to go down that rabbit hole.
  “He’s just a friend; A co-worker really,” you say, “He’s also unavailable. And before you suggest anything, his goalkeeper is technically one of my bosses so I do not want to try and shoot past her thank you very much.”
  Jimin laughs. “I wasn’t going to suggest anything. Well if you’re busy tonight, tomorrow morning works for me. Give me a call. I’ll spend the night in watching some good ol’ Netflix and enjoy this vacation time.”
  “Sorry again,” you apologize.
  “Go out and have fun,” he says, “You deserve it.”
  The two of you finish off the call with the usual goodbyes. You have forty-five minutes to dress the part of a sparkly birthday surprise for the co-founder of the company you work for. Throwing on your favourite throwback music, you get to work.
  Once satisfied, you snap a picture and sending it to Taehyung making special care that you have picked the right individual this time.
... 
The mansion is bigger than you could have ever imagined, and the amount of people present are…
  “You’re telling me I can do whatever I want tonight,” you ask Seokjin in the car.
  There is no denying that Seokjin knows how to dress for an event. In a velvety black and white suit, contrasted by his blonde hair which he has elected to temporarily dye for the evening, he looks very much the posh CEO magazines brand him out to be. You are glad you elected for the simple black dress as standing beside this Renaissance statue in a floral pastel yellow dress would be like planting dandelions in Kanye’s sculpture garden (if he ever wanted one).
  “The majority of people won’t recognize you after tonight. They’ll also be too drunk to even register anything you tell them,” Seokjin says.
  He cannot believe that you chose a simple black dress. Did you really not own anything remotely feminine besides the most generic clubbing outfit? Even if you had wanted to make an appearance as a hooker, at least make it an expensive-looking one. Maybe he should have bought you that Versace dress he spotted in the window the other day. Instead…
  “Take this. Your earrings are too gaudy for this event.”
  You touch the sparkly black cats you have put into your ears. Their eyes are made of crystal, and you thought it looked quite fetching in the light. Opening up the box, you see a dainty elegant pair of teardrop earrings that may or may not be of real diamonds.
  “Only Junho will know who you really are and then you can enjoy the rest of your night. I don’t want you to feel like you’re being held here against your will.”
  Putting them on, you note that even this simple change in attire has elevated the entirety of your presence. You felt as luxurious as this gift.
  “Thanks, Seokjin,” you try the first name basis he had insisted upon for this evening, “Not going to lie, I had imagined that maybe you’d send me a dress in the mail or something, but this is still very nice.”
  He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Like in the movies? Please, I run a start-up company. I’m not a millionaire and I don’t think you would appreciate my handouts.”
  You don’t respond, making your second note of the night on the Prada label on the cuff of his suit. “To clarify, I don’t introduce myself as your plus-one tonight.”
  “No. I don’t want you associated with me,” he curtly states. He watches as your smirk twitches and he hits himself mentally in the head again. “It’s to protect you. There are bound to be tons of paparazzi tonight at a party as big as this. I don’t want you to find yourself in the tabloids tomorrow morning. Just be smart.”
  The car pulls to a stop after inching its way up to the front door. People mill about outside in extravagant brands, holding glasses of champagne. The man of the hour is somewhere inside the building, charming his way into new business deals as well as making new friends.
  “Stay close to me. You can leave after we meet Junho. It is his birthday after all,” Seokjin offers a hand as you step out of the car.
  You take it, looping yourself into him so that your hand rests on his forearm. You are only 13 days younger than Junho, and yet this striking contrast in lifestyle hits you like a landslide while the two of you walk up the stairs and into the mansion.
  Inside, it is dim with disco lights flashing to the beat of amped party music. Upon entrance, the two of you are offered glasses of liquor (you take a swirling iridescent drink) to which you are then ushered to where the birthday boy lounges.
  Junho has an even more youthful face than Seokjin does. Where Seokjin’s features exude class and charm, Junho appears mischievous and looks to have stepped out of every girl’s bad boy dream.
  You stop Seokjin with a tug and make him look at you. “Tell me: do I look like a passable birthday offering?”
  Seokjin rolls his eyes and pulls you along with him.
  “Jin!” Junho hollers loudly across the room when spotting his oldest friend. There is a doll-like female magnetized to his side. “This is Clara, my date for the evening.”
  Seokjin shakes her hand and greets them. The female cannot seem to pry her eyes away from this handsome new stranger. He introduces himself chivalrously to her as Junho sides up to you and grips your hands in his. His breath smells strongly of mixed drinks, and you know that in about fifteen minutes the entire night will be a blur for him.
  “You must be Y/N!” he says excitedly, “Jin didn’t tell me that you were coming! What a surprise!”
  “I am,” you greet back with a large smile. “Although I’m also surprised. Seokjin told me that you had insisted I came.”
  Seokjin grits his teeth, annoyed at Junho. Would he ever learn when to keep his big mouth closed?
Laughing loudly, Junho grabs two drinks just as a waiter passes by and hands them to you. “Insist might be a strong word,” he says, drilling another hole unknowingly, “I honestly thought I’d have to play part-time wingman tonight. But I’m glad he’s got someone by his side.” He jabs you a little too hard in the ribs. “Next week’s gala is going to be fun! Okay, now there’s only one rule tonight: there are no rules!”
  The four of you clink your glasses together, while you do your best to hide an embarrassed smile on behalf of the birthday boy.
  “You bet I’m going around as your trophy wife tonight,” you whisper in Seokjin’s ear when Junho looks away.
  He whirls around to look at you, the tip of both your noses impossibly close together. He can taste the acidity of the wine when you breath out with a wicked smile. He barely has time to stop you as you peel yourself away to mingle with the crowds.
  Seokjin is about to follow you but Junho pulls him away, flamboyantly introducing his handsome best friend to a group of international models. He turns on his brightest smile, but his heart thunders in his chest at you calling yourself his wife.
... 
You twirl around in your dress, nobody noticing the small splash of champagne on the front of it in the quickly changing lights.
  “He bought this for me last week. Says it reminds him of the first night we met. Our eyes met across the waters in Tuscany where he was on a business trip. I’ll let you on a little secret, but I was his mistress for a little while.”
  Seokjin cannot make out the words you are saying to a small but growing group of people around you. He stands across from Junho, but looks over the latter’s shoulders to watch as you do another spin.
  “A little while, Charlotte? Are you still his mistress?” an older lady with an exuberant amount of jewels hanging off her body whispers with a keen interest in your expertly spun story.
  Charlotte Dior Laurent, an identity you are pretty sure is an amalgamation of French brands from the top of your mind. You continue to personify this character however.
“Don’t worry. He’s left her since. I know I know, my friends all say the same. ‘He’s already been divorced three times. How can you be sure he won’t leave you?’”
  At this point, you are in way over your head at having told this story to at least two other groups and a multitude of other renditions to whomever you have met tonight. But there is something powerful about liquid courage as it courses through your body.
  The lady lays a hand on your arm. “I don’t want your heart to break. You are still young.”
  Looking up between the heads of your audience, you catch Seokjin’s eyes. They are fiery and it sends a strange sensation up your toes to your abdomen. You give a titillating wave at him in which he does not return.
“He says I’m special and different. How can you say no to that?” you exclaim with exasperation, fully committing to the poor damsel just oh-so in love.
  There is a look of genuine concern on the lady’s face at your statement.
  Before you can dig yourself a deeper hole, you place your empty glass on the table and excuse yourself. You do not know if it’s the drinking on a relatively empty stomach or if the room is really much warmer due to the multitude of bodies, but you head out to the balcony.
  On your way out, you notice that the clock reads twenty minutes past midnight. This gives you a shock at how fast time has passed. Perhaps you should go find Seokjin if you are to get a decent amount of sleep before meeting with Taehyung and Jimin tomorrow. Speaking of Taehyung…
  You pull out your phone and see that there are two unread messages. The first is from Jimin, confirming that he is indeed invited to brunch tomorrow morning. The second is a response from Taehyung.
  11:09pm “Wow. You have me a little lost for words. I had imagined you’d look nice in the dress but… You really are beautiful.”
  Smiling, you type in your response.
  12:21am “Thanks, Tae. You’re up late.” You take a picture of the earrings Seokjin had gifted you and attach it to the message. “What do you think of these?”
Barely have you returned your phone into your bag when it buzzes again. This time you receive an attached image. Taehyung seems to be sitting in front of a monitor, as his face glows with a blue light and contorted into a pensive furrow of his brows.
  12:21am “A little different from your usual style. Are they new? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear those.”
  12:21am “Fei’s out with some friends tonight. She likes when I wait for her to come back before I sleep. To make sure she’s safe, I guess.”
  12:22am “Pooey. I should’ve brought you as my plus-one 😩. Also, Seokjin bought them for me for tonight. He says my other earrings are too gaudy.”
  12:24am “First name basis 🙃”
  12:25am “How is your night going? Having fun?”
  You are about give Taehyung a call for a detailed recounting of tonight’s escapades when someone speaks out from within the shadows.
  “A penny for your thoughts?” He walks into the moonlight. You flush, meeting the eyes of this particularly dashing gentleman, the phonecall immediately forgotten.
  Oh, Alcohol, you make even the smartest of people do dumb shit. And right now, your effects are even worse on this idiot.
  Your mouth hangs slightly open as you watch him puff out smoke from his cigar and offer it to you. He brushes up beside you, his fingers trailing up your hand which grips the balcony. You cannot seem to break away from his gaze.
  “Lung cancer has an increasing incidence rate particularly for females due to smoking. Are you sure you want to be condoning this type of behaviour?” Seokjin interjects himself between you and your Tuxedo Mask, pushing the outstretched cigar back towards its owner.
  There is a small stare down amongst the two men before the latter quietly exits the stage. Your eyes continue to linger on him even as he walks towards another female alone in the night enjoying the outdoor breeze.
  “You’ve just ruined by chance. I could have seduced then blackmailed him with the story of his illegitimate child to play Black Widow,” you whine.
  Seokjin takes the glass that had somehow magically appeared in your hand during the short walk from inside to outside on the balcony.
  “How many have you had since we came?” he asks.
  You sigh wistfully, still in your dangerous daydream. “I don’t know. I’ve lost count.” You turn your attention back to him eventually. “What are you doing here? Did you see me with him and get all jealous, hubby?” you tease.
  He scoffs, drinking from your glass and pulling a face. Once again, there is that twist and jump within his chest, but he attributes it to whatever nasty concoction he had just ingested. He pours its contents over the railing and into whatever shrubbery lies below. “You seriously went with being my trophy wife?”
  You shrug. “Of sorts. You’d better be right about people being too drunk slash not caring about me enough after tonight to remember the things I’ve said. ‘Cuz you’ve been divorced three times, had me along with another as your mistress, I think you’ve sired a few illegitimate children and all in all, a Games of Throne life. Damn, maybe I made you a little too badass.”
  “You’re having water for the rest of the night,” he says.
  You glare at him, contemplating on making a remark about his equally flushed face but decide against it. Instead, you lean onto the balcony and give a cat stretch. A large sigh escapes from you.
  Wordlessly, he shakes off his jacket and places it around your shoulder all the while averting his gaze on the unblemished skin of your upper thighs that had been exposed from your previous movement.
  Your blood feels like liquid fire coursing through your veins. Feeling overheated even in the evening breeze, you give him back his jacket. You note his reluctance to meet you even as you throw what could be a thousand dollar jacket in the air to him. “So what’s it like to live like this every day?” you say in wonder. You feel said breeze return and lean over the balcony to catch its chill.
  “Like what?” he asks. The warm summer night’s breeze blows through, settling his hair in a childish tousle.
  “Like rich,” you say. You sigh again. “Believe it or not, I’m the same age as your birthday boy best friend.
  And everything feels absolutely unreal right now. If I hadn’t agreed to come here tonight with you, I’d probably be at another dingy bar knocking back shots with my brother and friend.”
  “Are you a secret alcoholic?”
  You glare at him. “No,” you state matter-of-factly. “As I was trying to share, this type of lifestyle is something I could ever only imagine. I’m not ungrateful about spending time with them, but at the end of the night I’d go home, sweaty, drunk and gross, and then simply pass out. My bank account might be a couple hundred bucks lighter. Come Monday I’ll be working my ass off just to earn back what I had spent. Then cue the repeating cycle.”
  Resting your chin on your palm, your other hand sweeps your hair back behind your ear.
  “It’s amazing the difference a few life choices can have.”
  Seokjin remains silent beside you. Truthfully, he is at a loss of words. The moonlight plays across your face and caresses your nose down to your lips. You are arching your back once again to pull away the soreness that comes with wearing high heel the entire night. It is just a simple black dress but on you it made you look –
  “Well, you’re Mrs. Kim tonight,” he starts.
  “Charlotte Dior Laurent,” you correct him.
  He raises an eyebrow. “Okay… Ms. Charlotte Dior Laurent. Tonight you get to live like the rich, as you’ve put it. As a rich person, what would you like to do?”
  You ponder his question a few moments for the answer. “Hmm…I think I’d like to play golf. It’s a rich person’s sport. I want to play it on a private golf course, wearing cute golfing outfits and talk about million-dollar deals with a client without a care in the world. I want to order sangria by the gallon.”
  He laughs out loud. It takes a while for him to be able to speak again, but when he does you feel as if the night has been illuminated a few degrees brighter. “I personally don’t have a private golf course, but Junho does here in his backyard if you’re up for it. I can’t promise cute golfing outfits so you’ll have to do with your wine stained dress. And if you’re really up for it I can pretend to make business deals with you, that’s my job anyways.”
  You grin, taking the hand he has offered you. “Call.” The two of you shake upon his suggestion.
As he is leads you by the hand towards the dim gates of said golf course, you tug at him gently. “There’s something missing…” you say.
  He shakes his head and pulls you back in towards the party room. 
“I’ll see what they have at the bar.”
... 
As the hands of the clock continue to spin past another hour, the summer night takes a chilly turn. Seokjin has lent you his jacket but even that cannot stop your fingers from becoming numb. Your hands shake even as they tightly hold the golf club. Seokjin watches you in silence as you prepare to hit the golf ball, a beer in one hand and a few opened bottles littered on the grass beside him. The club hits the ball with a resounding “cling” but does little in propelling it a few centimeters.
  “This one doesn’t count,” you announce, “It’s too dark to see anything here.”
  Seokjin takes a swig as you readjust your position. You sway in the wind and the last tendrils of your hair come undone in its half up half down hairdo. Your hair now whips wildly around your face when another gust blows through.
  “Shit!” you exclaim, missing the ball again. “Why is golfing so hard?!”
  You throw your club down and trudge to Seokjin. The six pack the two of you had been sharing has officially been depleted. Seokjin offers you his half empty bottle. This time, you are the one watching as he goes to your spot and effortlessly swings his target into the darkness.
  He smirks from the spot.
  You grumble. “You’ve had years of practice. Not fair.”
  “You’ve got to do better than that, Mrs. Johnson,” he says, teasing you.
  Your grumble becomes more audible. You place the now empty bottle on the ground and cross your arms against your chest. Since telling him of your other American alias from tonight, he has not ceased to remind you of your strange choice of name.
  “Just so you know, Mrs. Johnson can afford both an affair and the consequential prenup,” you huff.
  “It’s still a stupid last name.”
  “It’s an American multinational corporation with an income in the billions, okay?”
  “Keep telling yourself that if it makes you sleep better at night. Now come on, I’ve got one last ball. Take a swing.”
  Groaning, you shuffle over. You wish you had not suggested golf. You had never been good at sports anyways – bad hand-eye coordination.
  He stands beside you this time, scrutinizing your every movement with hawk-like eyes. “No, not like that,” he says, “Have a wider stance and bend your knees. Better centre of gravity gives you a better swing. Also hold it with a neutral grip.”
  You readjust your positioning following his instructions.
  “Index finger down the center. Good. And three knuckles on each hand. No, that’s two. Okay your hands are just weird now. Three. I said three.”
  “Stop standing there and show me then, Mr. Know-It-All,” you say, your patience in this makeshift lesson also coming to an end.
  He walks closer to you, reaching out for the golf club. He retracts his hands in seeing that you have yet to let go. “You got to – ”
“You can touch me. I did tell you that Mrs. Johnson can afford an affair and prenup. Besides, I’m not going to be able to learn anything if I can’t even see you in this dark.”
  He comes behind you and puts a foot between yours to guide your stance. Wrapping his arms around you, he fixes the placement of your hands to grip the shaft of the club in the way he had previously instructed.
  Perhaps it is the mixture of wine, champagne and beer offered tonight, but being enveloped in the warmth of this embrace intoxicates you. The tingles that are sent down from his soft breathing on the base of your neck, make you shake like a leaf in the wind.
He inhales the sweet undertones of your perfume. The tendrils of your hair brush against his collarbone, sending a sensual kiss onto his skin. Unconsciously, he draws you closer to him, shielding you from another gust.
“Now you just want to swing,” he says, the words a mixture of a whisper and guttural grunt. His chest rumbles with it, passing the vibration through to your back.
  You remain as still as a statue and lean ever so slightly back into him until your entire backside is pressed upon him.
  You can’t stop yourself as you ask him, “Do you want to have sex with me?”
...
156 notes · View notes
spinster-sisters · 3 years
Text
Precious. JYN
restaurant worker! au (idk its just gengeral slice of life)
TW: size kink (this is yunho we are talking about) boob stuff (this is me we are talking about, praise, dom! yunho, sub! reader. there is some unwanted inappropriate touching done by an older guy but it doesnt last long.
WC: 5k
-
The very first thing you noticed about the restaurant you now worked at was how hot the manager interviewing you was. Yeah, you had worked with conventionally attractive people before, but most of them found a way to make themselves unappealing through words or actions. Not Yunho however, a month into working as a waitress you had to simply conclude that there was nothing not to love about him. Of course, he was dashing, that much was obvious, but it was so much more than that, he was unbelievably considerate of others and fiercely protective of his crew, he had a million-dollar smile and could charm his way out of any problem with a customer. Not to mention he was built like a God with both the height and muscles to make your mouth water. Yunho was lucky, and things just seemed to fall into place around him.
Of course, you were aware of this, as he made it impossible to forget.
As time progressed you became more accustomed to your coworkers and better at your job, soon you found a place in the tight-knit group of friends that worked together so work was usually fun.
Except for today. You have been at this job for 6 months now and somehow, with the exception of Yunho, you found yourself on a shift solely staffed by newbies without a clue. And it was a very busy night. You had lost count of the number of times one of your fellow waiters had to call you over to answer a guest question or how many times it was you who had to apologize to them for their server's mistake but it was starting to get to you.
You had a brief moment right in the middle of dinner service where all of your tables were eating happily and you would have a moment to rest. You knew that if you stood there for a moment longer you would be called over by one of the other waiters so you quickly made your way over to the bar where Yunho stood at the POS system. You used his size as an advantage and literally hid behind him. Of course, people could still see you, but at least you weren't standing directly in front of the waiter's station where you would surely be bothered.
You heard the man laugh quietly, and though you couldn't see his face you bet he was hiding a smile.
"Rough night?" He questioned, talking in a way as not to draw attention to you.
"Of course I would get stuck on a shift like this. Not a single person on the crew tonight knows what they're doing! I'm surprised you're even here, I thought the gods of the universe loved you too much" you finished your mini-rant in a mumbling tone, rubbing your eyes before looking out into the dining room just in time to watch the newest crew member, a thin gangly boy named Trevor, spill a glass of water all down the front of an older woman, and you groaned.
Yunho chose to laugh quietly again before speaking up, knowing that now that there was a new disaster your conversation would be cut short once the newbie found you.
"Don't be so hard on them, you were that stupid when you first started," he joked before looking back down at his screen.
"No, I was not!" You cried, "besides why is everyone bothering me? You're the manager shouldn't you be dealing with angry customers? That is above my pay grade." You finish as soon as the young waiter spotted you and began to make his way over.
"Because I told them to," Yunhi replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"And why would you do that?" You asked thoroughly annoyed. Coming out from behind the man as Trevor was about halfway across the dining room.
Yunho laughed his brightest laugh. The one that made your stomach swirl with butterflies. He turned finally and looked directly at you, just before the waiter was in earshot he spoke,
"Because you're cute when you're grumpy,"
And that is another thing about Yunho that was impossibly unfair. The man was a relentless flirt. And that wasn't just to you, anytime he made eye contact with anyone it's like he can't hold back the wink.
Finally, your peak time was over. After the incident with the water, the rest of the rush seemed to pass without a problem. There were only about two more hours till you could crawl back into the warmth of your bed and give your feet a real rest.
You had just finish bussing a table when the door chimed again. You could hear the host talking from where you were standing, and her words made your heart sink.
"Well of course Mr. Miller! You want your regular table I'm guessing,"
And then the reply in a groveling tone,
"She better be here tonight, I am starting to think she avoiding me,"
The "she" in question was you. And yes you were. Mr. Miller was a middle-aged sleazy man who came in close to close every Friday night demanding that you serve him. For the past few weeks you have asked Yunho if you could have Fridays off like he did, but due to some call-outs both of you had to come in.
You highly considered running to the back and feigning illness to go home, but it was too late.
"There she is!" The gargley voice called out. Admitting defeated you finally turned to look at him, and with the biggest fakes smile, you could muster you replied.
"Hey, Mr. Miller,"
From the moment he sat down he was already laying it on thick.
"Well, aren't you looking as nice as ever? Some might think you trying something," he winked at you. You had to hold back your vomit. The man was and had been since the moment he first sat at your table 6 months ago that you were his alone, if you spent too much time at another table instead of entering him he would throw a fit. If you didn't laugh at one of his jokes about your body he would throw some line like "come on, give me a smile." If you didn't fully play into the delusion that you were interested in him he would push even harder. And he didn't even tip.
So you played along "Well you know me, I always gotta look my best for you," you said trying to be friendly to appease him, but already knowing damn well that tonight he was going to be insufferable.
You took his drink order and escaped from him as quickly as you could. The other thing you hated about him was how long he stayed. Well after he finished his meal he would stick around for a while watching you. So you weren't even surprised when you felt his eyes on your body as you walked away.
Yunho was observing this interaction from afar completely confused. Friday was one of Yunho's days off every week so he had never seen this before, and he must have looked confused because the host had walked over to him to explain.
"It's weird, right? A child could see how much she hates him but every Friday he comes absolutely convinced that it's her favorite day of the week."
It was getting late, and there were barely any customers left in the dining room when you finally took his empty dinner plate from his table. Not that he was ready to leave yet.
"You know, I've been thinking" he starts before you can walk away, "how does someone as pretty as you end up working at a place like this?" He asks peering at you from over his glass of water.
"Well a girls gotta pay rent," you reply with the fakest giggle ever.
"If I had you, you wouldn't have to work a day in your life," he said, "what do you say, honey, you could quit this place for good," he asked setting his water down and grinning at you dangerously. This scared you. You couldn't help but let your smile falter for a moment, this you couldn't encourage.
"I don't know," was all you could say trying your hardest to make it all seem like a joke. You instinctively step back from the table. In a brief moment, you noticed his hand moving twords your body but it was too late, he had already put his bent fingers on your leg and gripped it.
"Come on, you know I could treat you right."
You physically recoiled but his grip was strong. You were legitimately terrified. He had suggested on a few occasions before that he would wait for you in his car after you close and watched you, he knew which car was yours and could easily follow you. It was clear he didn't take no for an answer.
You didn't know what to do, you simply stood there petrified with the man's grimy hand moving up your leg. Just when it was going to reach the hem of your uniform skirt you were pulled away behind the familiar height of Jung Yunho.
"Sir if you touch any of my employees again I will have you kicked out." Gone was the playful tone that permeated Yunhos normal speech. Instead, he was icy and cold no room for negotiation in his voice. But that didn't stop Mr. Miller from trying.
"Calm down son, me and my favorite girl were just having a polite conversation." He said looking at where you were peeking out from behind Yunho, clearly expecting you to back him up. Instead, you looked anywhere but at him.
"No sir, you were visibly harassing one of my waitresses. it is inappropriate to talk to anyone that way much less if they are working and unable to walk away. If you leave now there will be no further issue." He said, still trying to speak civilly despite his growing agitation. In your desperation to not look at the man you glanced around the room. All eyes, both employe, and patron were staring directly at you. This made it so much worse and chose to look directly at Yunho's side profile.
"Who are you to tell me what to do! I am a paying customer and a loyal patron. I will talk to whom I please!" The older man's voice began to rise clearly not liking the way this conversation was going.
"That girl behind you has been my waitresses for 6 months and if I want to touch her I will!" You heard a fist slam on the table. You jumped and Yunho pulled you farther behind himself. You couldn't help but fist the back of his shirt in terror when you heard the scrape of a chair on the floor. Mr. Miller was now standing, trying his hardest to get in Yunho's face despite how the younger man towered over him.
"If you don't walk away right now ill beat your ass boy!" Miller screamed, getting as close as possible to Yunho. You practically cowered into Yunho's back, still clinging onto the fabric of his black dress shirt like you would physically unravel if you let go.
Yunho stood stoic while the man yelled. Afterward, he took a pause, before speaking.
"Trevor, call the police and tell them we have a customer harassing our staff and threatening violence." He spoke with a defining certainty, no room for an argument from Trevor or Mr. Miller.
Yunho's gentle hand took hold of your upper arm to lead you away from the man. He turned you away from where he stood dumbfounded, and lead you back into the office, and locked the door.
Yunho lead you to one of the two chairs in the cramped room fumbled around for a bit with the water cooler, bringing you a small paper cup to drink from before finally taking a seat himself. The room was small, from the way you were sitting and Yunho's long limb his knees brushed against your own.
You stared and him and he did the same to you, neither saying a word. The man before you looked remarkably calm for the ordeal he just faced but based on the concern in his eyes you looked shaken. You hadn't realized you were crying till the drops landed on the shaky hand still grasping the paper cup for fear of life.
"Please don't cry" was all he said at first. He was silent for a moment but your tears didn't stop. He shifted a bit and the knee touching your own brushed the outermost part of your thigh. He sighed.
"Why didn't you tell anyone how bad he was? Why didn't you tell me?" He spoke calmly. He didn't sound mad in the slightest but his words brought a dry sob from your lips. He looked almost scared for a second before correcting himself in a pleading tone.
"Please don't think I blame you in the slightest. What happened was not your fault," one large hand came to rest almost timidly on your leg.
"I just wish I could have stopped this before it happened."
-
It has been a few weeks since the incident. News of what had happened had spread around the staff quickly and although Mr. Miller had fled the restaurant before the police arrived, everyone on the crew knew that he was not allowed on the premises and if his car so much as pulled into the parking lot the police assured us that he would be escorted off the property for trespassing.
Yunho had insisted that you take the next 5 days off afterward and even when you returned everyone was walking on eggshells around you, not wanting to do anything to upset you.
The closest circle of team members made it a point to have outings every so often as many of you were quite close outside of work, and although some of them (with your best interest at heart) didn't think you should come out, it was once again Yunho who advocated that spending time alone in your apartment would do you no good. So here you were at approximately 9 o'clock outside a small bar/club getting excited about your first night of relaxation since that day.
Once you found your way into the building it wasn't hard to spot your group. Many of them were already drunk from pre-gaming and the rest of them were well on the way. It brought a fond smile to your face. When you joined the group there were cries of excitement and soon you all fell into the groove of the evening.
You had noticed Yunho the moment you walked in because he seemed to be the only sober one of the bunch. Of course, he knew how to party better than anyone, but tonight he seemed satisfied to just watch the rowdiness unfold.
You weren't drinking cuz of the practical reason that you drove yourself here today. After making your rounds talking with every one of your friends you found yourself gravitating to Yunho as you always seemed to do. He was sitting in a circular booth so it was easy to slide in next to him.
"Not drinking tonight?" You asked.
"No. Someones gotta keep an eye on these crazy people" he replied as jovial as always, instead taking a sip of what appeared to be coke.
"Well I guess I will have to help you then"
After a few hours of talking happily with Yunho while also keeping a close eye on your friends, you found yourself, once again knee to knee with Yunho. Except this time instead of sitting in front of him, you were almost sitting on top of him. You honestly had no clue how this happened, but he didn't seem to mind. Actually, Yunho himself was now sitting with his long arm wrapped across your shoulders pulling you even closer to his side.
"YUNHO" one of your fellow waiters fell into the space beside you, but with their lack of coordination they ended up bumping into you enough that if Yunho hadn't pulled you fully into his lap you would have toppled onto the floor underneath the table. But once the crowd of crewmembers was alerted of your guys' presence they all simultaneously pushed into the booth so there was no room to sit back in your spot.
You were blushing now, thankful that your friends were too drunk to notice how Yunho's arm was wrapped around your waist keeping you securely in place. As the talking resumed Yunho leaned down to whisper into your ear,
"This is all right? I can get them to move if you want," though it was probably unintentional Yunhos breath was sending shivers down your spine, which only got stronger when you finally came to realize how much larger he was then you, effortlessly keeping your body snugly against his chest tight enough to feel each breath he took, the hand wrapped on your waist was large enough to palm your whole thigh if he wanted to. And that thought was exciting.
"No, I'm fine," though you sounded a bit shaky you snuggled yourself even further back onto his lap to show your appreciation. He chuckled lowly in your ear before returning to the conversation. But your mind could not be further from it. You had never realized before how incredibly safe you felt with Yunho or more specifically in his arms and chose to instead focus on the weight of his hand on you, the subtle shifting of his thighs underneath your own as he spoke, and the deep rumble that moved your body with his own every time he laughed.
When it came time for everyone to go home you didn't want to. You didn't like the idea of removing yourself from Yunho's lap at all. But alas, it had to be done.
As the two sober friends, you two were talked with calling cabs and making sure everyone got home safely. Until finally the two of you stood alone on the pavement. You felt the need to say something.
"I don't think I ever thanked you," you said turning to face the man in the cold air. He turned his body twords you as well.
"You don't need to thank me for sitting on my lap, trust me the pleasure was all mine," he joked, and you couldn't help but chuckle along with him.
"You know that's not what I meant," you said in a small voice.
"You don't need to thank me for that either, trust me," his big smile turning smaller but sweeter. This confused you.
"What do you mean?"
Yunho sighed with a smile.
"I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet," was all he said. But your confused face brought more words out of him. He took a step closer to you leaning down and speaking in a quiet voice he said,
"You, have always been very precious to me, and that day was no different. I would go to much greater lengths to keep you safe if I had to,"
His words, although spoken in the softest tone struck you straight through the heart. You had always dreamed of being with Yunho but you had never imagined he felt the same way. He took another step, leaving almost no room between you.
"Can I kiss you?" He asked, bringing a hand up to the back of your head. Words weren't forming so you chose to nod instead.
It only took a beat longer for him to lean down and press his plush lips into your own. Yunho wasn't one to beat around the bush and put all of his passion into the kiss, leading your lips with his own guiding your mouth to respond exactly as he wished.
You put your hands on his firm chest as his other arm circled your waist bringing you in even closer. Your mouths were so intertwined neither of you dared to break the kiss for quite a while, simply enjoy the feeling, but soon the need for oxygen won out. You pulled apart gasping, but still holding each other close.
-
You're not quite sure how exactly you ended up back at your apartment but that was unimportant, what mattered was keeping your mouth on Yunho's. You two had barely gotten through the door before your back was pressed against it in a quick motion.
Along with his considerable height, Yunho also had considerable strength, so when leaning down for you became uncomfortable he chose to instead wrap your legs around his waist and lift you.
In this new position, you were at the perfect height to move his lips to your neck. He found the perfect spot on it before sucking a dark purple mark into the skin, nibbling it a bit before licking it soothingly. The wet feeling of his tongue pulled a new sound from your lips,
"Yunho!" You whined into his ear.
He seemed overjoyed at this reaction and desperate to recreate it he rolled his hips into yours. You could feel his hard length pressing oh so perfectly into your clothed slit you desperate cry could probably be heard three doors down. The man was big.
"You sound so cute" Yunho giggled into your jaw, before pressing a sweet kiss into the skin.
One of his large hands slipped below the hem of your shirt and moved up to the cup of your bra. His long fingers groped your plush breast, holding the whole thing in his hand. The warmth of his fingers and the pleasant squeeze had you whining once again.
"Your so sensitive baby," he remarked, giving your breast another squeeze. In an attempt to keep your noises contained you reached out and pulled his head to meet your lips again. This kiss was much more desperate than the others both of your lips moving so fast it was hard to keep up, your teeth clacking together in the process. Yunho rolled his hips into yours again and you squealed into his lips.
Keeping you as firmly planted on the kiss as possible Yunho's hand fell from your chest back to your hips before pulling you completely off the wall and your arms instinctively clung to his broad shoulders.
Your apartment was only one bedroom so Yunho had bo problem blindly navigating the way to your bedroom. As soon as the door was open you were practically flung backward onto your bed. In an instant Yunho found his way onto your bed, once his back was pressed into the headboard Yunho took hold of your body and manhandled you onto his lap facing him, you were once again faced with just how big Yunho was. Both of his arms wrapped around your body pulling you close and positioning your heat directly over his dick, where an impressive tent in his jeans rubbed directly into you. The loose skirt you were wearing did nothing to cover your panties. You kneed into him finally taking the initiative to grind down repeatedly onto him.
"Awe, baby you look so cute like this, all flustered and needy. Look you're making a mess on me." You hadn't noticed how wet you were until this point but he was right, you were completely soaked through the thin material of your underwear, and with each roll of your hips, you were dampening his jeans.
"Yunho," you begged "please touch me,"
"But you look so good like this. I could watch this all day. Sitting pretty on my lap, just waiting for me to fuck you."
"Please?" You cried still desperately chasing the friction his jeans were giving your clit. He flashed his million-dollar smile before giving in, slipping one veiny hand into your panties cupping your whole heats in his hand for a moment, wetting his fingers before sliding two long digits into you. You showed your appreciation in a moan and clung to his broad shoulders again.
"Please Yunho! I want more. Please fuck me." You begged.
"Not yet, baby, I gotta open you up first. Don't want to hurt you do I." As he spoke he speaks the pace of his fingers scissoring them open inside of you stretching you wider. You bucked into his hand.
"My little baby is fucking herself into my hand. How cute," your exhaled loudly then dropped your head onto his shoulder tugging at his shirt begging him to remove it. Yunho chose to first use his free hand to slide your own top of your body before taking hold of your neck and pulling your upper body away from his. With your help eventually, his shirt was pulled from him leaving your view of his beautiful chest and bulging muscles open to admire.
You almost forgot about the hand moving inside of you while you ran your own up and down the Yunho's chest, trying to feel every bump and ridge there was. Your eyes were glazing over in wonder, but you were soon brought back to reality when another finger pushed inside of you, joining the others in your pulsing pussy. Your head rolled back in a moan.
"Like what you see baby? Because I am really enjoying this view." You were sitting so pretty on his lap your skirt had been pushed up and your soaked lacy panties matched your bra perfectly. In all the movement your chest was starting to spill out of your bra.
"Baby you look so fucked out and small right now and I haven't even done anything yet, are you sure you need me to fuck you?" He asked teasingly.
"Yunho, please," your nails began dragging down his golden skin leaving a trail of red lines, "please, please fuck me." Spewed past your lips. A wicked smile graced his lips.
"You want me to fuck you into the mattress?" He asked.
"Yes! Please!" This was almost embarrassing but if anything your flushed tone only made him happier.
"No, I don't think I will." He said pulling his finger out of you.
You whined.
Yunho undid his belt pushing his pants down just enough to pull his expressive length out of his boxers. You watched with bated breath as he stroked himself a few times before meeting your eyes.
"How about you ride me instead?"
You nodded eagerly almost lunging forward. Yunho helped support your body as you hovered over him, before lining you up and pulling your body down onto him. The stretch was painful at first, you could feel him deeper than anyone else had ever reached but you clenched down on him appreciatively. You took a moment to gather yourself, half expecting him to thrust into you, but he stayed perfectly still. You meet his eyes with your own going wide and he giggled.
"I'm not moving baby if you want to get fucked you have to do it yourself." As he spoke he pulled both hands off you, resting them on his thighs.
You sat breathless for a second longer, unable to form a coherent thought, but the sudden twitch of his dick inside you brought you back to the task at hand. Slowly but surely you began moving, lifting yourself till only his tip was inside you before falling back down. You both groaned satisfied but it only lasted a second before you repeated the action, and then again, and again, slowly building speed each time and realizing quite moans every time he filled you up completely.
You had now set a fast pace, you were unsure how long you could keep it but the growing pleasure filling your abdomen kept you moving. Yunho's eyes were trained on you, switching from your blessed out face, to your bouncing tits, to where his long dick was disappeared into your cunt each time it reappeared coated in your juries.
"Baby, if only you could see yourself right now," he spoke over the sounds of skin slapping and pretty moans, "honestly you look good enough to eat sweetheart"
His words of praise-filled your ears and encouraged you to move faster, desperately clenching on his dick feeling it twitch return along with his deep rumbling groan. Your hands were still firmly planted on his chest and you used this grip for support trying once again to increase your pace. Your thighs were beginning to burn but it felt too good to stop, not when you were this close.
"Yunho, please help me," you whined, your legs faltering in their attempt to keep moving.
"Oh? But you're doing so well baby," he said with an adoring smile watching your face.
"Please Yunho?" you asked running your palms down the ridges of his chest once again. Your building pleasure had started to plateau as you couldn't keep up the pace, your thighs starting to burn even harder. You were so close but you couldn't put yourself over the edge and if growing moans from the man in front of you were anything to go by then he was right there with you.
He seemed to consider this for a moment before chuckling.
"I guess my baby is just not strong enough to make herself cum. I suppose I could help with that."
You only had time to breathe a sigh of relief before you were thrown back onto the covers. Yunho's large frame loomed over you with a sinister smirk. You barely registered the anticipation in your body before he slammed his entire length back into you. Setting a brutal pace. You cried out instantly and your voice rang through the walls of the apartment like a symphony.
Each time Yunho's hips connected with your own he hit that perfect spot inside of you bringing more noises from you. One of his hands came down onto the mattress beside your head and the other took hold of your thigh using it to maneuver you into the exact position he wanted.
Now Yunho was grunting along with you trying hurtling both of your twords your orgasms at an incredible pace. Just as you were about to be thrown over the edge Yunho connected your lips again swallowing your moans. It only took one more perfectly timed thrust before you came toppling over the edge. Although your lips were still connected, it didn't do much to help the lewd sounds spilling out of you. The pleasure came from your core in waves, arching your back and making your legs twitch violently.
Not long after you came down from the high your body began pulling away from Yunho's thrust but he held you in place.
"Just a little longer baby, I promise."
And just when the buzzing pain of overstimulation subsided, Yunho filled pulled out of you and spilled his sticky cum across your body. He stood above you for a moment, you both were panting but you were clearly the more worn out of the two.
Yunho's eyes moved across your whole body once before meeting your own eyes.
"Your precious"
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Fic: What We Don't Know Can't Hurt Us
Fandom: Triple Frontier
Pairing: Frankie Morales x Librarian!Reader (cishet female) meet-cute
Warnings: No warnings really, some language and mention of masturbation and sex. Reader doesn't like kids. Yearning. Frankie is a TOTAL DILF SWEETHEART. Sad ending.
Summary: Reader is a librarian who has to temp at the kids' section desk from time to time which is a pain because she doesn't like kids. And who is a regular if not a very hot, scruffy-looking dad with the very polite and mild-mannered daughter? Sparks fly but some things maybe aren't meant to be.
Words: 5,155
a/n: Just to be clear, this one doesn't end well. I just wanted to write something sad, I guess.
Oh, shit, there he is again. The Hot Dad.
You straighten a little in your chair and once again curse the fact that you’re working in the children’s section at the library: the only desk that isn’t adjustable. You prefer to do your service desk duties standing up, not only for ergonomic reasons but because you hate how patrons look down on you – literally – when you’re seated by the desk. Also, you tend to slouch and it’s not an attractive look. And at the kids’ section, you’re all supposed to work on the same level as the little tykes. And you’re not particularly keen on those.
You are, however, keen on hot dads. God knows you only get them once in a blue moon and if they show up, it’s usually in tow of a whole clan of children and a wife. But this dad has been in once before when you’ve had desk duty and you saw him stop at the shelf for picture books about divorce and pick out a few. You also heard him tell his little girl that she shouldn’t bring the books she chose to her mom’s. Divorcee, so fantasizing was even more allowed – although he probably had a girlfriend. Guys like that always do.
“You don’t want to lose them, sweetie,” he had explained patiently to his daughter. “You can keep them in your room at my place but if you take them to your mom’s there’s a risk you lose them and that means I have to pay for them. You see, we’re only borrowing these books, that’s what you do in a library.”
You had smiled an inwards smile when listening to him. There was nothing you loved more than parents who actually seemed to understand that all the material in the library was free at one simple condition: return it in time, in the same condition as you borrowed it. A lot of people did not seem to grasp this and made a huge deal when they failed to meet these conditions and were faced with late fees or even had to compensate for lost books. But when parents who knew how to use a library include their offspring, explain how it all works for them, well, that’s how you foster a new generation of good library patrons.
This dad did just that. And he was very careful with the books, prompting his daughter to be the same. Every book she pulled out of the stacks, he helped her put back in the right place. That’s practically marriage material right there and it was enough to make you weak at the knees, to be honest. After almost ten years working in a public library, you were disillusioned about people in general and their intelligence in particular. Sure, you liked your job enough to not cry in the mornings when you had to leave bed, and you did enjoy the work itself (mostly), but… having to deal with people was exhausting. Having to deal with little people even more so, and the worst was having to deal with adult people who had little people with them. Parents.
Hence your absolute obsession with Hot Dad who was soft-spoken, really good with his kid, understood to appreciate the library and its services, nodded his hello to you when passing by the desk, didn’t make a mess, clearly read to his kid regularly and encouraged her to read for herself. You just didn’t get to see people like that so often, and it triggered your interest. You allowed yourself to daydream about him.
Francisco Morales. You remember his name from his last visit, when he and the kid came up to the desk with their haul. You always encouraged patrons to use the self-service check-out (the less you had to do deal with them, the better), but for this guy you were more than willing to go the extra service mile, even with the kid staring at your every move from across the desk as you registered all the loans. You silently gave her plus points for not trying to “help” like some kids did, and for the quiet but clear Thank you she gave you without prompting from her father.
You’re busying yourself with the returns, loading them onto a cart, when you hear a soft, deep voice go Excuse me behind your back. You twirl around and see Morales, pulling his baseball cap off his head to reveal curls that would make any hair model cry of envy.
“Sorry to bother you,” he offers. Take me now, you think to yourself but instead, you give him your brightest customer service smile, the one you rarely give patrons.
“No worries, how can I help?”
“We’re looking for picture books about farm animals. You don’t happen to have those separated? I noticed you have some subject areas separated.” He gestures back towards the picture book stacks where his daughter is quietly perusing.
“We don’t, but I think we have some Julia Donaldsons available, let me come and have a look.”
You don’t always offer. With most patrons, you’d tell them to look under D for Donaldson and then smile sweetly and ask them if they’re okay to do it themselves. You can’t do everything for everyone, that way they’ll never learn. But for Francisco Morales and his well-behaved little girl, you’re absolutely willing to make an exception.
There are some Donaldsons that the girl, whose name you learn is Sofia, eagerly accepts when you present her with them.
“I love fawm animals,” she sighs happily as she browses the first one. “Do you?”
“Who doesn’t love animals?” You make the effort to small talk although communicating with kids usually makes you awkward.
“What’s youw favowite? Mine is bunny. And howses. And lambs.”
“Goats! I love goats, they’re so cute and sweet and playful.” You almost add something about goats being the devil’s favorite animal as well but manage to stop yourself in time.
“Is there something else you want to ask the librarian?” Morales asks his daughter. “If not, I’m sure she has a lot of work to do, and we shouldn’t keep her any longer.”
“I’m here to help,” you shrug and give him a little smile: not a polite, impersonal one that you’d give a patron, but a more intimate one. A flirty smile. “You just need to ask.”
The smile he gives you back is warm and grateful, and you realize that he doesn’t have different facial expressions for different people. He doesn’t work in customer service because if he did, he’d know the difference. Not that you ever thought he worked in retail or anything like that, well, maybe a hardware store, but no. He just doesn’t seem like the type. The way he moves his body suggests something a lot more physical.
Oh, you’d like to get physical with him, alright…
All the sucky library-themed pick-up lines flash through your head. Can I check you out as an overnight loan? Can I insert my private collection into your empty stacks? My reference desk or yours? Am I being too loud, well, you’ll just have to shush me with your lips. You’re like an overdue library book because you have fine written all over you.
Worst part is, if Hot Dad Morales tried any of these on you, you’d probably forgive him and go for it. Maybe. You’re really not that simple, but a girl can dream, right?
The kid thanks you and you return to the relative safety of the desk and the mundane task of alphabetizing returns. You need to calm the fuck down and act professional. Daydreaming is fine but you’re barely toeing the line.
God, you need to get laid. As if that’s something that one can remedy just by walking into a store and ordering a medium dick with a side of hands and tongue.
📚📚📚
The next time you see Francisco and Sofia Morales, you’re taking your lunch break in the small park outside the library. It’s a sunny day and you didn’t fancy sitting in the breakroom with your salad, listening to colleagues talking about who cares what. So you took your lunch box, fork, and water bottle, and went to sit on the park bench the furthest away from the swing set and sandbox. The weather is nice and you enjoy yourself and your break from the library’s chat service. You never know what you’re gonna get when you work the chat: a stupid question about opening hours which anyone could google the answer to, or something more complicated like requests for books with partial or no titles, rarities, or subject areas that you don’t know much about. That’s when you get to use your whole competence and really dig deep, think outside the box, solve problems. You love it but it’s challenging at times, and takes a lot of energy. Your outdoor break is welcome.
“Hi!”
You hadn’t noticed the girl walking up to you and the greeting startles you.
“Oh, hi.”
“We’we wetuwning the animal books,” Sofia informs you seriously. You have to smile.
“Good job. You want more of those or something else this time?”
“Mowe. Will you help me find some?”
“I’m not working the desk at the children’s section today but my colleague there will absolutely help you. Just ask her.”
Now you see Morales walking towards you from the swing set, carrying the large, flowery canvas tote that says “book bag” he always brings to the library.
“Hello,” he nods with that warm smile that he definitely gives everyone. “Sofia, don’t disturb the lady on her break. I’m sure she wants some peace and quiet before she has to go back to work.”
Jesus fucking Christ. How does this man just know shit like this?
“I’m sowwy,” Sofia immediately offers. “I wanted to say hello.”
“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” you allow, although technically, he’s not wrong. “I’m almost done. It was nice to see you. I hope you have a good visit to the library.”
“Thank you!” She skips along and Morales chuckles as he takes off his baseball cap and scratches his head, swipes his long locks out of his forehead, then puts the hat back on.
“You’re her favorite, you know,” he tells you. When you raise your eyebrow, not comprehending, he hurries to elaborate. “Of the librarians. She says you’re the best.”
“Thank you, but whatever for?” You know you do a good enough job at your usual position and that your regulars appreciate you, but you are also very aware of not being at your finest in the kids’ section.
“You have to ask her,” Morales grins as he looks out for his kid, who has returned to the swing set and is pumping her legs on the swing, brows knitted in concentration. “But she’s very taken with you. I think it’s because you’re very calm and focused with her.”
Calm and focused??? You almost laugh out loud. That’s everything you’re not when you’re at the kids’ desk.
“Thanks,” you manage, because you have to say something.
“She’s also really interested in your tattoos and I definitely think she wants to get her nose pierced now,” Morales goes on. “I told her that we don’t comment on people’s appearance, but just a heads up, she might ask you about those.”
Ah, the unpredictability of children.
“I appreciate it.” You really do. You don’t mind talking about your tattoos or the septum ring you have but if a kid suddenly asks about it, you’d rather be prepared.
“Anyway, sorry to intrude on your lunch.”
“No worries,” you reassure him. “You can… sit down for a while if you want to? I have ten minutes left.”
Your heart beats faster at your proposal. It’s not exactly appropriate but you just want to enjoy his company for a moment. And discreetly sniff him because he smells so fucking good, woodsy and smokey but with a hint of… vanilla? You’re terrible at recognizing smells but it reminds you of some aroma reeds you had a couple of years ago that smelled like a wood cabin with vanilla sugar spilled on the floor. You loved it but like everything you love, it was discontinued.
Morales looks over at his daughter before nodding, the book bag slipping down from his shoulder as he places it next to the bench.
“If you’re sure?”
“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”
He likes your straightforward answer, you can tell from how his eyes crinkle a little and how relaxed his body language is when he sits down.
“I’m Frankie, by the way,” he says, like he just remembered that introductions are a normal part of human interaction. He extends his right hand to you and as you accept it and tell him your name, you can’t help but marvel at how huge his hand is. Big, warm, slightly damp but not in a weird way.
“Nice to meet you, Frankie.” Frankie. Francisco Morales is Frankie. It suits him better than Francisco, to be honest.
“And that’s Sofia.” He points to the girl who seems content swinging by herself. You realize you’re expected to say something nice about her to the proud dad.
“She seems sweet.”
“Yeah, she’s awesome. And she loves coming to the library, it’s all she talks about when I have her.” He clears his throat and adds: “Her mother and I got divorced quite recently. I only get her five days every other week.”
“Sorry to hear that.” Shit, it’s divorce and custody talk from the start. You have no idea how to respond to that.
“That’s life,” he shrugs, “but I figured that going to the library every time I get her could be a good routine to ground her. And then we have books that we can read together for her entire stay.”
It’s definitely a good routine as far as you can tell.
“When I was between nine and thirteen years old, my dad would take me to the local library every Monday evening,” you tell him, smiling at the memory. “My dad never opened a book in his life but he patiently read the auto and tech magazines while I collected half the kids’ section with me. When I went to tell him that I was done, he always pretended to object to the amounts, but then he’d help me carry it all to the car.”
As you tell him this, you’re looking at him, no, staring at the patchy, grey-splashed beard he’s sporting. It’s the most fascinating thing you’ve ever seen. What’s the story there, why doesn’t it grow evenly? Is this a thing? You don’t have enough experience in the field of facial hair. Is it genetic? Is it always like this?
He keeps looking at his daughter as he listens to you with a small smile on his face, clearly enjoying your little anecdote.
“That’s lovely,” he says, turning his attention back to you when you’re finished. “Dads and daughters, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
You pick up your phone to check the time. Shit. You have to return to the chat.
“I gotta go. Lunch break’s over.”
You collect your things and stand up, brushing off your skirt. Frankie stands up as well and picks up the book bag.
“I’ll see you in there?”
“I’m not a the desk today.”
“Oh.” He seems disappointed, his eyes flickering from you to the ground. “That’s too bad.”
“And the kids' section isn't my primary department.”
“The bad news just keep on coming, don't they,” he jokes as the two of you start to walk towards the entrance. Sofia jumps from the swing and comes running.
“She's not at the desk today, daddy,” she tells Frankie precociously.
“I know, mija. We'll have to ask someone else about the animal books, okay?”
Sofia doesn't seem too happy with this solution but nods. You take your leave before she has the opportunity to ask about your body modifications, and disappear through a door marked “Staff Only”.
📚📚📚
The following weeks you seem to see Frankie everywhere. You run into him at the supermarket and get drafted into advicing him on what cereal to buy for his kid. “Something healthy, but good so she'll actually eat it.” How the hell should I know? you want to scoff, but you're simping for him enough to help him choose something you'd never in a thousand years touch yourself. You see him in town one afternoon when you're running errands and he suggests you grab a coffee - holy hell, in your book that's a fucking date - but you decline as kindly as you can, citing a busy schedule when in fact you're mostly just scared out of your mind. The daydream is becoming a little too real and you're absolutely not ready for that, especially not because of the kid. If it wasn't for Sofia, you could have dared the leap, but dating a guy relatively fresh out of a marriage, and with a kid to boot? No, that's asking for trouble and you don't want trouble.
One afternoon at the kids' desk, you once again get to help Sofia find books, this time on sharks.
“She went from farm animals to sharks in one week,” Frankie confides in you when the girl is sitting quietly in a reading nook, carefully studying every page and occasionally widening her eyes at what you suspect is pictures of shark teeth. “It's sharks this and sharks that. She asks if there are sharks in every body of water she sees, from the pond in the park to the ditch outside my parents' house.”
“Have her watch Jaws and she will never want to think about sharks ever again,” you suggest, earning a laugh although the idea was probably a little bit on the morbid side.
“Maybe, but that would probably scar her for life. I actually want her to learn how to swim.”
“Then best not.”
You pick up a couple of books someone else left behind on a table and make a gesture that says I have to re-shelve these, come with and Frankie follows you to the right shelf.
“You know, she talks about you as her friend at the library.”
Now, some people would find that adorable but you don't. You're not friends with this kid, you're in a position where you could possibly influence her keenness to literature and literacy but you will always risk critique from her guardians. Being a children's librarian is like a hybrid between being in customer service, and being a teacher. You get to form young malleable minds but you are always subjected to criticism, even when you've done nothing wrong. Kids are patrons, like adults, and to have them see you as friends is only going to complicate things.
“That's nice,” you reply carefully, not really sure what else to say. It's so hard to talk to parents sometimes, one wrong words and you're basically Satan, you can't know because you don't have kids yourself, how dare you not worship the ground my offspring just vomited all over?
“You're definitely her favorite librarian.”
That you can take. You have a couple of adult patrons who come in regularly and prefer to get their reading recommendations from you. They always have time to discuss literature and they bring you a box of chocolates for Christmas.
“Well, she's easy to help. She always knows what she wants and she's polite. And quite easy to please,” you smile, meaning every word. You don't mention that the only time you like kids is when they're like Sofia is right now: reading quietly in a corner, handling the books with care.
“You're my favorite librarian as well,” Frankie adds, and now that sweet smile he's always wearing when you see him is shy. There's definitely a red tinge on his cheekbones as well and it makes you want to lean forward and kiss him on his goddamn mouth with that goddamn full lower lip that he sometimes sucks into his mouth or fucking licks...
“How many librarians do you know?” you ask and manage to sound easy-going, or at least you think so. The laugh Frankie produces is low and rolling and it makes your stomach coil in on itself. Fuck him and that deep voice he rode in on!
“Got me there. It's basically you and Mrs Wilkerson, the school librarian who scared the shit out of me when I was in elementary school. She made sure I didn't step foot in a library until, well, now.”
“Oh, I so wanted to be a librarian like that when I was a kid!” You grin at Frankie's horrified expression. “No, no, hear me out! I always had this idea that those librarians led these super rich, fulfilling lives as night-time vigilantes or that they were actually millionaires who spent their free time floating around in pools with fancy drinks in hand.”
“Were you... a normal child, besides these illusions?” Frankie teases you and before you can stop yourself, you're slapping his arm playfully. Like a girlfriend would. Or someone more intimate than a Favorite Librarian, at any rate.
“I'll have you know that the voices in my head are saying that we had a very normal and healthy childhood,” you reply with as much dignity as you can muster, while desperately wishing for the phone to ring or another patron to ask for your help. But no, the ones present seem to be managing on their own - except for one mom who seemed to have overheard your joke because she is now staring at you with hesitation in her eyes.
It's Sofia who comes to your rescue with her request of being taken to the bathroom. By the time she and Frankie are done there, your colleague has come to relieve you of your duties at the children's section.
📚📚📚
You knew of course that it was coming. You may not be that experienced in the terms of dating and relationships but you weren't stupid and you had some experience: Frankie was going to ask you out. It had to happen. Technically, it had already happened that afternoon in town when he asked you out for coffee. He maybe didn't see it as a date, but you certainly did.
It happened when you had just started your shift in the children's section and it was a fucking mess. A class of kindergarteners had just left and the teachers hadn't bothered to keep them in check, so there were not only books on every available surface, they were also put in the wrong way and in the wrong places. Your colleague who you were relieving stayed behind to help you, feeling too bad to leave it all to you.
That's when Daddy and Daughter Morales showed up. You weren't really happy about the existence of kids in the first place but made an effort for Sofia, who brought you a drawing she had made in preschool that day. It featured some figures in green, slightly reminiscent of animals and one human but you wouldn't be able to tell. Luckily, Frankie explained it to you.
“She's waited all day to give you this drawing of you with goats.”
“Wow,” you manage. “Thank you, Sofia, this was so kind of you.”
The girl is beaming with pride. “Will you put it on the wall?”
“Super probably!”
“I can see you're busy,” Frankie notes and ushers Sofia along. “We won't distract you. Come on, honey, let her do her job now and maybe you'll get to talk to her later.”
You nod your thanks and focus on cleaning up the entire department before you colleague leaves and Frankie and Sofia come to the desk to borrow this week' picks. Sofia seems uncharacteristically giddy.
“Do you want to come with us to the awbowetum?” she asks with a wide, expectant smile. Fuck shit ass hell.
“We're going on Saturday,” Frankie fills in, “and we were both hoping you'd want to join?”
Saturday. Thank goodness.
“Sorry, I work on Saturday,” you say, trying to sound rueful. It's true and you're relieved about not having to lie. “But thanks, it's sweet of you to ask.”
Sofia is clearly disappointed and so is Frankie, but he masks it better.
“Some other time, yeah?”
If it were only him, you'd tell him it wasn't a good idea. But you can't say that with the kid right in front of you. You may not like kids but that doesn't mean you want to scar them for life.
“Yeah, maybe.”
You loan them the books and as they leave, Sofia waves happily at you and Frankie shoots you one last smile that makes you press your thighs together in your seat.
Come Saturday, you're by your usual desk in the section for adult fiction and you almost fall off your chair when you see Frankie come up the stairs and straight up to the desk.
“Hi.” He's had a haircut and a shave and looks different. Still good, but very different. The dark locks of his hair are more tamed. The mustache is still there but you miss the patchy beard.
“Um, hi? Where's Sofia?”
“In the car, with a friend. We're going to the arboretum.”
“Right. I hope you have a good time, the arboretum's lovely.” You still don't understand what he's doing here and he seems to have some difficulty in telling you. Moving his weight from one foot to the other, he scratches his neck and looks down - why does he have to be so freaking cute? - before looking up at you.
“About that... I wanted to apologize. I wasn't sure it was a good idea to ask you to come with, but Sofia was so persistent. She likes you so much. I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. I'm sorry.”
“That's alright,” you brush it off because there's not really anything else you can say. “Don't think about it, just go have a good day.”
“I also wanted to ask if you wanted to go grab a drink with me. Just me. Maybe next week when Sofia's at her mother's.”
Fuck, there it is. His hopeful face makes you hate yourself for the answer you have to give.
“I'm not sure that's such a good idea, Frankie,” you begin carefully. “I'm really flattered, but you're... recently divorced with a kid. That's a lot of baggage and things could get complicated. I don't want to get caught up in that.”
You've practiced this speech at home but it still breaks your fucking heart because Frankie is so good-looking, kind, funny, and sweet. You would've asked him out yourself already if it wasn't for the baggage. Fuck, you masturbate to the thought of him, for crying out loud! You imagine what it would be like to be with him, to make dinner together and watch movies and go to bed and wake up in each other's arms. You think about sex with him a lot. You make an effort with your appearance those days you know he'll show up at the library, you don't even mind the kids' section that much anymore because you get to talk to him.
You are fucking in love with him, or at least the idea of him because you don't know much about him, only that he used to be a pilot in the special forces but now he trains new pilots, he has best friends who are like uncles to Sofia (and who have been asking about this mystery librarian she always keeps talking about), he likes cooking and loves baking with his daughter, he hates working out but knows he should take better care of himself, hell, you even know what brand of milk he buys.
He's clearly disappointed but keeps a brave face, one that you can see right through because he wears his heart on his sleeve.
“I understand that,” he says quietly, mildly. “I'm sorry, I hope I didn't embarrass you.”
Jesus fucking Christ can this man not???
“No, don't worry. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the answer you wanted. It's just... not a good time.”
Shit. You shouldn't have said that. Now he might think it could be a better time later.
Frankie nods and smiles sadly. “Yeah, you're probably right.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Yeah, me too.”
He clears his throat and nods. “I better be going. You have a good weekend now.”
“You too.”
He shoots you one final smile before he turns around and leaves. As you watch him go down the stairs to the exit level, you just want to call his name, do your run through the airport and hurry after him, throw yourself into his arms, kiss him, Jesus, imagine that somewhere there's someone who'll get to kiss him some day, tell him that you made a huge mistake and you want to go out with him, you want to have drinks with him and dinner and breakfast and lunch for the rest of your lives because nothing would make you happier than making him happy. You want to be the reason his eyes crinkle and his cheek displays that little dimple that makes you lose your train of thought every time you see it.
But it's not for you. People with kids need to prioritize their kids and you know that you can't be anyone's number two. You don't want to get caught up in custody disputes, you don't want to be "your father's new slut", you don't want to be anyone's stepmom. You don't want to have to spend five days a week in the same house as a five-year-old. Being in a relationship is difficult enough as it is and if you can make choices that avoid some of the problems, you're going to make them, no matter how much it hurts.
And it hurts. A lot. But so much in life hurts and you've made it through before.
He must already be out the door, probably in the car. Does he say something about this to his daughter and friend? Is it a female friend? No, it must be one of his army buddies, probably one of the brothers.
You pull up Frankie's profile in the library database and see his phone number. You could call him anytime. Or send a text. Keep talking to him, flirting.
Shit. It's a bad idea.
A patron approaches the desk and you force yourself to look mild and service-minded.
“Hi, do you have Hate To Want You by someone called... Ray, I think?”
“Please hold a moment, I'll check.” You stifle the sigh that threatens to escape you and hope that the day will be busy so you won't have time to think about Francisco Morales again.
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Text
Make A Scene
AMHL – Masterlist
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Dick immediately noticed when Y/N started getting quieter and quieter as they got closer and closer to the venue.
Bruce had hired a driver to pick them up from their apartment in Gotham. And the car had gone quiet now. 
Dick reached over to gently hold her hand.
“Nervous?” He asked.
Y/N shrugged, not really seeing the point in trying to lie to her boyfriend.
“This isn’t your first rodeo, ya know.”
She gave him a look. “You know that wasn’t the same.” Her eyes flickered to the driver. “I wasn’t exactly…myself. And I wasn’t your girlfriend.”
Also, tonight they didn’t have the security and comfort of being at Wayne Manor.
No, instead this particular event was being held at the ballroom of Gotham’s most extravagant five-star hotel. It was a party for Wayne Enterprises, not a personal charity or party of the Wayne family.
Bruce had kindly asked Dick and Y/N to attend when board members and business partners started asking if the whole family would be attending. Jason hadn’t answered anyone’s calls or texts about it. None of them expected him to show up. Tim had to attend since he worked for Wayne Enterprises. And Damian…Well, Damian was his father’s son and not yet an adult. He basically had to do whatever Bruce asked of him while he lived under his roof.
“I’m not gonna leave your side,” Dick promised.
He squeezed her hand to further emphasize it.
Their car pulled up to the carpet at the bottom of the stairs.
There had to be a hundred journalists and photographers, along with random civilians who had nothing better to do than to see Gotham’s elite get out of cars and walk into a hotel.
Dick took in a deep breath.
Thankfully the car’s windows were tinted and protected them from any onlookers.
“Ready?” He asked her.
She nodded.
Dick opened the door and ignored the screams and flashes as he carefully helped Y/N out of the car with his offered hand. He also shielded her from the photographers to give her a moment to get out and adjust herself before they could capture any photos of her.
“Mr. Grayson! Mr. Grayson! Who is your mystery girlfriend?” Someone yelled.
Sometimes Y/N forgot that Dick was somewhat of a celebrity in Gotham City through association.
It wasn’t like people were asking for selfies everywhere he went. Or that the paparazzi were following his every move.
But in Gotham, people took note of where Dick Grayson went and who he was with.
And everyone noticed he’d had the same woman on his arm for quite some time now.
Even though Y/N and Dick had been dating for over a year, the media still couldn’t figure out Y/N’s identity. 
What they didn’t realize was that she controlled every single piece of information about herself that lived on the internet.
They didn’t stand a chance. 
Dick smiled and waved at people who called his name. But his hand other hand never left Y/N’s as he helped her up the stairs.
“Who are you wearing?” A female journalist yelled at Y/N.
She ignored them and focused on getting up the stairs without tripping and face planting. Not that Dick would ever let that happen.
However, she knew her outfit was going to draw gazes.
Y/N had made a promise to herself that if she was going to be forced to attend events like this with Dick, then she was going make a statement. People were already going to be staring at her, so she figured she might as well give them something good to stare at.
Instead of wearing a typical cocktail and formal dress, Y/N wore a full men’s suit that was tailored to perfection, but with the bowtie undone. It was what the fashion magazines would describe as “androgynous” in the press tomorrow morning.
Y/N wanted to control her own narrative. And she’d rather be judged for her bold decisions than just her trying to blend in.
Bruce insisted on paying for all the boys’ date’s dresses – in this case, suit – if they happened to bring one. He always thought it was more of an incentive for them to attend these terrible events if he encouraged them to bring significant others. And the press always had a field day with it, which only helped throw people of their trail when it came to their secret lives as vigilantes.
Everyone kept screaming Dick’s name as they walked in, and Y/N wondered how he got so good at smiling through the chaos and ignoring them.
Once they were inside, Dick felt the tension leave Y/N’s body a bit.
“Alcohol?” He offered with a smirk.
“Yes, please.”
He nodded, knowing it was exactly what she needed.
Quickly, he grabbed two champagne flutes off a passing waiter.
They clinked glasses.
Then he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Thank you for being my date.”
Y/N smiled at his sincerity.
Dick sighed before he threw back the champagne, “The quicker we find Bruce and prove we were here, the sooner we can leave.”
“Try not to sound so excited,” she laughed darkly.
Suddenly felt a small human wrap around her thighs.
Y/N gasped in excitement, “Dami!”
Dick smiled as he looked down at his 10-year-old brother hugging his girlfriend.
“Dick gave me the drawing you made for us. It’s so beautiful. I’m trying to find the perfect frame for it,” she told the boy.
Damian beamed with pride at that.
Suddenly the boy started asking a million questions about Stoker, one of his kittens that he’d given to them to take care of when Bruce gave a limit to how many cats Damian was allowed to have in the manor.
Then, to Dick’s shock, he saw Jason slowly walk over to them with his hands in his pant pockets.
He was not at all dressed nice enough for the event. No suit jacket. No tie. His white button-up shirt wrinkled, messily tucked into his pants, and with two many buttons undone. The sloppiness of it all clearly wasn’t an issue with the women, seeing as all of them were ogling Jason.
“Todd,” Damian greeted coldly, pausing his conversation with Y/N, who whipped around at the name.
“Hey, you,” Y/N smiled as she went to greet him.
Jason gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek and a quick hug.
“I really didn’t think you were coming,” Dick told his brother.
“Well, I wasn’t. But I got a business engagement.”
Y/N and Dick shared a confused look.
“What do you mean?” Dick asked.
“I found my neighbor crying on her fire escape a few nights ago. Apparently… one of the finance bros of Wayne fucking Enterprises was everything but a gentleman to her.”
Y/N’s eyes widened in realization. “J, I already took care of that.”
“I know,” Jason nodded as his eyes scanned the room. He was clearly on a personal mission tonight. “You deleted the evidence. I am teaching him a lesson.”
Dick slowly put together what they were implying.
“Oh, please don’t make a scene, Jason.” Dick begged him.
Because he knew Bruce wouldn’t be dealing with the aftermath; it would be him.
“Don’t worry!” Jason laughed. "I’m gonna take him outside before I beat the shit out of him. No one here will even notice. It’ll be fine,” Jason assured him as he gave Dick a far too heavy slap on the back.
“Just tell Bruce and he’ll get him fired,” Dick tried to convince him to take the less violent route.
“Oh, we already did,” Y/N muttered.
Dick’s gaze shot to his girlfriend.
“He’s getting fired on Monday,” she clarified sheepishly.
“Since when do the two of you work together behind my back?” Dick accused them.
But he wasn’t actually mad about anything – maybe just a little bit bitter.
Jason opened his mouth.
“I swear to God, Jason, if you say ‘club business,’ I will lose it…” Dick warned.
Y/N tried to hide her smile.
“Got him,” Jason growled as he glared at someone on the other side of the room.
As soon as he left them, Dick gave Y/N his full attention.
“Seriously?” He accused.
“I’m sorry! He asked me for a favor and I was happy to do it once I realized what it was,” Y/N defended.
Dick pouted a little. Mostly because he hated being left out.
“Don’t worry, ya big baby. I’m still your ‘guy in the chair’ and no one else’s,” she teased before giving him a kiss, immediately wiping the lipstick off his lips.
“How come Jason gets to beat up people at events like this, but I’m expected to behave like a well-trained dog?” Damian mumbled.
Dick sighed and shook his head.
“Jason likes to think he’s a lone wolf who doesn’t have to play by the rules,” Y/N tried to comfort the boy.
To distract Damian from getting further into how unfair it was, Y/N asked him to show her more of his drawings.
This seemed to please Damian and he pulled his phone out, flipping through photos and showing Y/N his recent sketches.
With Y/N being entertained by his youngest brother, Dick decided to go to the bar and get the two of them a stronger drink and maybe get a kiddie cocktail for Damian. He’d pretend to be patronized and annoyed by it, but Dick knew better.
He patiently waited for the bartender’s attention. 
“So Gotham’s Golden Boy really has returned…” a husky voice uttered beside him at the bar.
Dick glanced over to see a beautiful woman close to his age eyeing him.
It was clear what she wanted. Dick used tactics like this on countless missions.
“So I have,” he answered.
He was polite, but distant.
Women hitting on him at events like this was nothing new. To Gotham, Dick Grayson was a Bruce Wayne 2.0 – younger, just as charming and handsome as his mentor and stand-in father figure. 
Dick knew how to play the game. But he never had any interest in casual relationships like Bruce did.
“Back for good?” The woman persisted.
“My girlfriend and I are just in town for a few weeks,” he answered before ordering his drinks with the bartender finally.
“Oh, brought up the girlfriend rather quickly,” she laughed.
Dick quirked an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”
“No, it’s just…my friends and I had a bet going.”
Then she pointed to a group of three young women, who were giggling and smiling, not even trying to pretend like they weren’t watching them closely.
“Oh, yeah?” Dick asked, already tired of this conversation.
--
Jason had already rejoined Y/N and Damian.
Y/N looked down to see his knuckles red with irritation and bruised.
“Please tell me there’s not a corpse in the alley behind this hotel now…” Y/N sighed.
“No,” Jason answered coldly. “Though there fucking should be.”
“What did he do?” Damian asked curiously, clearly he hadn’t been listening to their earlier conversation that closely.
Y/N shifted her weight in discomfort, not sure how to handle the subject with the boy. Yes, Damian was far more mature than many grown men, but he was still just a kid. There were some things Y/N felt like they should at least try to protect him from still. 
“He got my neighbor too drunk to consent, filmed them having sex without her knowing it, and then showed it to a bunch of people at their work,” Jason answered bluntly.
Damian’s brow furrowed, clearly thinking long and hard about what his brother just told him.
After a moment, the boy perked up, “I know where we could hide the body so even father won’t find out.”
“Damian!” Y/N scolded.
But Jason was beaming.
Y/N looked around for Dick, hoping to find another sane person to stop the two boys from actually murdering anyone tonight.
But when she finally spotted him, she saw a woman standing far too close to Dick and pointing to a group of girls who flirtatiously waved and winked at both of them.
“Real cute,” Y/N muttered to herself.
“Vultures,” Damian growled as he followed her gaze.
“Jason, if I leave you alone with Damian, are you going to kill someone?” She asked without taking her eyes off her boyfriend.
“I don’t need to be watched,” Damian groaned.
“No, I need you to watch Jason to make sure he doesn’t change his mind about keeping that asshole alive.”
“Fine,” Damian whined.
Without any further confirmation, Y/N left them. 
She walked across the party on a mission, never taking her stare off of her boyfriend.
Dick did a double take when he noticed her heading towards him.
“Hey,” he greeted innocently.
Because he was innocent. All he’d done was be polite to a bunch of women who were after him for his name…and maybe his good looks.
“I was wondering where my drink was,” Y/N said with a surprising calmness and smile.
Then she turned to the woman. 
“Hi, I’m Y/N. You must be a friend of Dick’s.” 
She held her hand out.
No cattiness. No rudeness.
Y/N said it with the same kindness that drunk women having with other drunk women in bar bathrooms.
“Oh…I’m Irina,” the woman stuttered as she took Y/N’s offered hand, clearly confused by Y/N’s niceness.
Dick held out her drink.
Y/N took it, quickly clinked her glass with both Dick and Irina.
“Cheers,” she sang before tossing it back and chugging the drink that was meant to be slowly sipped.
Dick didn’t know what game his girlfriend was playing, but he was intrigued.
Once Y/N lightly placed her empty glass back on the bar, she turned to Dick and tilted her head to the side. “Could you show me to the bathrooms? I have no idea where they are.”
“Of course,” Dick answered without knowing where this was going.
“It was nice meeting you, Irina,” Y/N told the woman as she linked her fingers with Dick’s and guided him away.
Meanwhile, Jason watched the interaction as if he were watching an award-winning movie. Him and Damian were way too far to hear, but everyone in the bat family could read lips more than fluently.
Then Jason smirked as he watched Y/N drag Dick away.
“Boys,” Bruce greeted as he snuck up on the two of them. “What are we staring at?”
“Oh, you know,” Jason hummed with hilarity, “just watching Y/N assert her dominance.”
“Good for her,” Bruce grinned as he realized what was happening.
He moved his attention to his youngest boy. “Alfred is waiting outside with the car. You’re officially released from your duties.”
“Finally,” Damian groaned.
“Don’t you wanna say bye to Y/N?” Jason asked.
“They’re coming to the manor tomorrow afternoon,” Bruce answered for his son. Then he raised a brow at Jason. “You’re welcome to join us.”
Jason’s only response was a shrug.
Bruce tried to hide his disappointment and nodded before he guided Damian away and walked him outside, where Alfred was waiting.
10 minutes later, Jason saw Dick trailing behind Y/N as she walked back to the main area of the event.
Jason burst out laughing at the spectacle. 
Dick’s hair was an absolute mess. Half of his shirt was untucked. His jacket was draped over his forearm. His lips were swollen and pink. Y/N had left lipstick all over his neck and even a bit on the collar of his shirt.
Yet somehow not a single hair was out of place on Y/N and her makeup was still immaculate. Her outfit was just as sleek and clean as when she’d arrived. The only thing different was the proud smirk on her lips.
Clearly Y/N had just had her way with Dick.
But she wanted to make sure the whole party knew about it.
Y/N hadn’t said a word to Dick since she dragged him from that woman.
Her body did all the talking.
One second they were at the bathroom doors, the next Y/N had thrown him against the tiled wall after locking the bathroom door.
She gave no verbal explanation, just started kissing him and undoing his pants.
“Not that I’m complaining. Like, at all,” Dick laughed as they rejoined the party. “But wanna to tell me what that was all about?”
Y/N finally stopped walking and turned to face him with narrowed eyes. “I think you know, Richard.”
Y/N only ever used his full first name to provoke and tease him. And he hated that it worked every single time.
Dick glanced around to see that everyone in their vicinity was eyeing them. Well, they were mostly eyeing him and how it was clear he’d just been fucked in the bathroom.
He stepped close to her and lowered his voice, “Ohhh, I see how it is.” His eyes flickered down to her lips for a split second. “If a guy does that, he’s jealous and possessive. But if a woman does it, it’s sexy…”
Y/N proudly smiled like the cheshire cat. “Exactly.”
Something over his shoulder caught her attention. “Oh, I see Tim. I’m going to go say hi.”
Without hesitation, she brushed past him.
Dick let his head fall, put his hands on his hips, and laughed.
He’d pay her back later tonight. And by ‘pay her back,’ he would just tell her how incredibly hot her behavior had been and basically invite her to do it whenever she damn well pleased.
Dick felt a presence beside him, and he didn’t have to raise his head to know it was Bruce.
“Hey,” Dick greeted him nonchalantly.
“You have lipstick all over your neck,” Bruce told him as he took a sip of his drink and looked around the party. “And your zippers down.”
“Sure is,” Dick sighed.
--------------------------
OK. This was way too fun to write. 
Let me know what you think!!!
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vicious-vixxxen · 3 years
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Could I request older, pro-hero Deku with a chubby male s/o who gets ridiculed because people don't think someone of his size is good enough for the Number One hero
((Ah I may have gotten a little too deep with this one, so apologies nonnie in advance for the angst. Topics like this relate a lot to me personally. So here ya go.))
Izuku Midoriya x Chubby!Male!Reader
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“That’s...such /bullshit/,” You huffed, fist clenched into the folds of the magazine, before flicking it across the kitchen with a huff- tears already stinging at the corner of your eyes as it landed split open- your face plastered over the centerfold article. ‘Is #1 Pro Hero Deku’s Husband /TOO/ big?’ The article practically shouted up at you- big, bold red letters smeared over your face, hiding the smile you’d had that night. You’d managed to secure a spot at one of Izuku’s favorite restaurants- mostly by promising the owner you’d be in and out of there within half an hour- he wasn’t the type to fawn too heavily over Pro Hero work, so ‘Deku’ being your husband didn’t hold much weight with him. But you’d been excellent patrons of his since they’d opened, in your second year of high school together. So you managed with what seniority you held. And seeing as how Izuku had only been able to snag thirty minutes between patrols, it was the perfect opportunity to scarf down a quick bite, and chat in- what you thought had been- the privacy of one of the uppermost floors of the establishment. But of course, sleazy as they were, the paparazzi had found a way to catch the both of you eating. A little too fast, a little too messily, just to be able to enjoy the atmosphere together, and have ample room to chat with one another before Izuku had to get back to his patrols. Which was fine, for Pro Hero Deku- six foot seven inches tall, two hundred and ten pounds of pure, lean machine muscle. The epitome of health and wellness, and what it meant to be strong. Able. And then there was you. A little too soft around the sides, cheeks /too/ plump/. Stomach /too/ pudgy. Thighs /too/ thick. God, you looked like a pig, food smeared on your chin, a bowl between you and your husband. ‘I guess we know where his priorities really lie’ the magazine quoted, from some random asshole on the street no doubt. Jesus Christ. “Bunch of fucking assholes.” You were angry. Of course you were angry. Fists held over your eyes to keep the tears at bay. But you were sad too. So, so fucking sad that this shit kept happening. Izuku’s management tried and failed countless times to keep shit like this from spreading. But people loved a good slam piece, as much as they adored seeing Deku’s latest accomplishments splashed across every newspaper, and TV report. Sick fucks. Whatever. Water under the bridge, you told yourself. Throat feeling tight, eyes burning with unshed tears, as you took a few deep breaths, and headed back towards your bedroom. Turning out lights in the house as you went, before stripping and crawling into bed. Thoughts running a mile a minute, as you stared up at the ceiling in silence. The only real noise the quiet sound of a car or two passing the house every now and again. You couldn’t help the way your open palms slid against your chest. Pressing, and kneading at the soft, pillowy flesh of your sides, and stomach. Grimacing at yourself, you recalled how fit you used to be during your high school days. What a dynamic you and Izuku had. Fresh on the scene after high school, no one could compare to the two of you. Kiri and Katsuki came close, but never quite managed the spark you and Izuku had. Professionally speaking. But Izuku just kept climbing higher, and higher- your quirk was good, but limited in its capabilities, which meant a halt in your hero placement a year or two after graduation. But you did what you could. You helped people because you wanted to help people, ratings be damned. But the harder Izuku worked, the more help he needed managing the world that came with climbing to number one. So you patrolled less and less, in favor of working with his design team on costume upgrades. Merchandise. Izuku trusting you and Inko to work directly with his management team, as he knew you all shared a hive mind of sorts when it came to design, and marketing. Pro Hero life for Deku was saving people. Kissing babies, and countless interviews. It was grueling, and tiresome, and he needed a team behind him to take care of everything else. So that’s what you did. Long hours spent at home alone, working through the night on various Deku projects. Meant less patrols, less gym time. You had no need for those things when you were kept busy with Izuku’s team, and you did good work! Fuck, you did great work, and Izuku praised you nonstop. Sure you’d gained a little weight at first, but it looked good on you. At least you thought so. And so did Izuku, if the way he drooled all over the expanse of your thighs the first time you’d gotten a night alone in nearly a month was any indication.   But as time progressed, you cared a little less about your appearance each day. You took care of yourself, and you were far from unhealthy. But there was no denying you had filled out substantially. You didn’t care, and Izuku didn’t seem to care either...but the media sure did. Closing your eyes suddenly, you took a deep breath. Holding it in for several seconds, before letting it out shakily. Tears finally falling as you did so, and you rolled over to snuggle into Izuku’s side of the bed- face smushed into the other man’s pillow, to breath in the soft scent of his cologne. His musk. Drifting off to sleep sniffling, dreaming of the glory days the two of you held together. Izuku hadn’t planned on coming home tonight at all, it wasn’t in his schedule to. But when he’d taken five to break for a snack, he’d ran into Kirishima at the agency. Chatting quickly, recalling rather suddenly that it had been several days since he’d seen Y/N. Scratching at the nape of his neck awkwardly, hunched over slightly muttering excuses to himself. He may have been big, and strong, but to his friends, Midoriya still held fast to those traits that made him who he was. Even back at UA. One call to Bakugou from Kirishima later, and the two of them were taking Deku’s shift, sending him hurrying home- a smile as bright as the sun on his face as he charged up, and bolted from the agency as fast as he could. Fingers crossed that you weren’t asleep yet. His dreams were dashed, but not unpleasantly so, when he landed outside however, and found all the lights in the house were off. It was late, and he appreciated you getting your rest. Knowing all too well how often you’d stay awake working on things for him. Izuku’s heart overflowed with love for you when he recalled all you did for him. For the both of you. He couldn’t imagine being as cemented in the top spot, as capable of doing what he did, without you there. You and his mother were his whole world, keeping him afloat at even the hardest of times. He...he was nothing, without you. So knowing you were in bed, getting your rest, made him smile. A smile that was soon replaced with a recoiled snarl as he entered the house- beelining to the kitchen for a glass of water, wherein he found the magazine spread out, as though left for him on the kitchen floor. Another one. Another article attacking you. Shaming you. Making fun of you. The kitchen was alight with green sparks as Izuku picked up the magazine, sneering at it when it came clearly into focus, before promptly stomping over and throwing it into the trash. Chest heaving as he sat with the knowledge that you’d probably been worrying over this again all evening. While he was out. Combing the city for villains, while you were here, dealing with...god. Hero suit boots already at the front door, Deku removed his socks as he made his way back to your bedroom quietly- leaving them in the hall- a nasty habit of his he’d never been able to break. Letting himself into your room, his heart breaking at the site before him. He wasn’t sure how long you’d been crying, but it was long enough to leave the salty, humid scent of tears in the air as he entered. And there you were, huddled up with his pillows, breathing softly- face smeared with tears, their tracks glinting back at Izuku as he rounded the bed, and just stood there. Feeling so powerless. Too big. Normally he’d clean up first, but being sure he couldn’t wait one more second, let alone the twenty minutes it would take to shower, Midoriya acted quickly. Removing his Hero suit silently, left in nothing but a pair of fitted boxer briefs- before sliding into bed next to you. Pulling his pillow gently from your grasp, to settle behind his own head, before gathering you up and into his arms. Shifting you almost entirely onto his front, before you stirred. Izuku’s stopped breathing when your eyes fluttered open, and your nose wrinkled- wanting to smile as you noticed the heat beneath you, the strong scent of Izuku’s skin filling your senses. Glancing up at him, your sleep idled mind offered only one clear thought. ‘He’s home’. Try as you might, however, the pressure from earlier in the evening boiled over again- mixing with the overwhelming sense of love you felt at being able to see him. Feel him. Smell him. Just /be/ with him. Everything was still, and quiet, a pin drop could be heard. Until you hiccupped, once, twice, before choking on a sob as you pressed your face flush against Izuku’s chest, and cried. You cried, and cried, and cried. Trying to recall the last time you’d seen him, your sleep clouded mind coming up blank. All you could see was that stupid fucking picture in the magazine. Izuku held firm to you as you cried, eyes shut tight, tears threatening to spill right alongside yours. Old habits die hard, he thought idly. He didn’t shush you, or try and quiet you down. Offer words of encouragement, nor did he berate the magazines, or spew on about how much hell he was going to put them through for this. He simply held you, stroked your back, and kissed the top of your head over and over, as you covered his chest in tears. Finally settling down after a few minutes, and simply breathing together. Your ears pressed against Deku’s wet chest, listening to your husband's heartbeat. Allowing it to calm you. Arms finding their way under Izuku’s body, holding each other now. Tight, almost too much. But neither of you complained. “I love you,” Izuku finally whispered, though it was so full of sentiment- of meaning, almost harshly so, it caught you off guard. “I love you more than the world will ever know, or understand, and I’d drop off the face of the planet tomorrow, and leave them to fend for themselves, if it meant proving to you how wonderfully, beautifully, exquisitely perfect you are to me.” Fucking…”I wanted to /stop/ crying, you fucking jerk,” You laughed wetly, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks as you lifted a hand to swat at the side of Deku’s head- both of you snickering wetly now, as you began to card your fingers through his hair with the same hand. Snuggling impossibly deeper into the man’s chest, as his words rang in your ears. He meant it too, the voice in your head whispered. Your chest tight as you imagined him giving up all he’d ever worked for, just so you’d understand. You never held any doubt that he loved you. As you were, as you had been- however you’d be tomorrow, or the day after. But you struggled a lot, internally. You always had. It would be a struggle you’d live with till the day you died, you were sure of it. But even so, you reasoned, then and there, that if even then, you knew how deeply, and unequivocally Izuku cared for you- loved you. That thing’s would always be okay. No matter what. “I love you too,” you sighed back finally, clearing your throat, and closing your eyes as you felt yourself quickly drifting again. “So so much, ‘zuku.” Peppering Deku’s chest with kisses till you fell asleep, Izuku was sure if his heart swelled any more, it would burst. Waiting till you had fallen back asleep fully, he rolled the two of you over. Caging you into the mattress beneath him, and falling asleep that way. Guarding you even as the two of you slept. Keeping you safe from everyone, and everything.  Midoriya’s only other thought, besides you, before he slipped into unconsciousness, was to call into the agency the next day, because he wasn’t going to going in for a while. ((Really enjoyed writing this one, got me in my feels, and made me feel all warm, imagining Deku holding me at the end of a  long day, when I could care less about feeling good about myself. Thanks for the opportunity nonnie, hope you enjoy.))
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The Chance Meeting of the Black Cat Cafe
AO3
Prompt: Everyone is born with a limited number of words. Because of this, people thing more before they speak. In some cultures, it's even considered the god(s) choice on who gets how many. Those with the fewest words are pitied but accepted nonetheless.
Prompt by anonymous on Tumblr.
Author's note: This prompt has been sitting in my inbox for a shameful amount of time, but I had to figure out some baseline for this. Giving the characters the ability to use sign language or the ability to write seemed too easy. So I had to figure out a way around that <3
Word Count: 5866
Pairing: Analogical
Warnings: Flirting/Romantic contact, Prejudice, Very, very light hurt/comfort
---
    Black coffee.
    Two sugars.
    Splash of cream.
    That's the way Logan's coffee had always been served to him. As long as he could remember, he spent his morning getting ready for work, drove to his favorite coffee shop and went about his day. He'd been doing this for years. This was how his life had always been.
    Until today.
    Logan stood outside his favorite coffee shop dumbfounded by the ‘Closed' sign blocking the way to his daily routine. A small note was tacked to the sign explaining that a family emergency that had forced Anna, the shop owner, to close on this very particular day, but still the small sign stalled his brain.
    This was fine.
    Emergencies happen. The most important factor of the situation is that the owner was taking care of her family. His need to stay on his routine was of minimal importance compared to the safety and well being of the kind barista who'd been serving him his coffee for years.
    Logan knew this was true. He shouldn’t still be staring blankly at the dark building, but he couldn’t seem to drag his feet away. The thought was irrational and he knew there were several solutions existed for this very simple problem he was facing. He forced himself to take a long breath, considering his options.
    He could simply continue onto work without his coffee, but the thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. Dealing with his coworkers without caffeine as a buffer sounded less than ideal. Logan let out a long sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he turned towards his car.
   Of course, the logical course of action was to simply go to a different coffee shop. It would be well worth the mediocre coffee and pitiful stares of the new shop's patrons if he didn't have to go without his daily dose of dark roasted stimulant.
    Logan chewed on his lip as he slipped his key into the ignition of his car. He knew the dread building in his chest was an overreaction, but he couldn’t seem to trick his brain into releasing the anxiety constricting his throat. He'd spent years, slowly optimizing his daily routine to avoid the stares full of pity that he often received while out in public. Too often, well-meaning people would notice the lack of black designs on his body and their looks would immediately turned to pity. The very thought of the way people looked at him when they realized he had no words made his stomach twist.
    Most people were gifted with at least a few decades worth of words, more if they were careful about how they used them. Everyday, he was surrounded by dozens of people whose arms and legs were covered in black designs, indicating the words they had left in there life. Some were more faded than others, especially among the older generation, but few people were like him. His arms were bare when he was born and one would assume he would have gotten accustomed to the way people without words were treated, but it never seemed to get easier.
    He turned the key, humming as the engine suddenly jumped to life. Slowly, he let out a sigh as he backed out of the parking lot and turned back onto the busy streets. The sounds of traffic and instrumental music on the radio soon lulled him into an uneasy resignation as he scanned the road for the next indication of an establishment selling the much needed warmth and comfort of caffeine he was craving today. Logan had barely gone two blocks when a purple neon sign caught his eye.
    Black Cat Coffee.
    The branding left a lot to be desired.  The faded logo was nearly unreadable under the purple glow of the neon circled around the cartoon-ish black cat logo. The design was garish and had too much of a Halloween vibe for Logan’s usual taste. Not to mention, something about the cat's eyes unsettled him as it seemed to smile directly at him. He wouldn’t even have considered it any other day, but he was already behind schedule, and the shop appeared to be nearly empty even as the morning traffic bustled past. Logan sighed,  relenting to his need for caffeine as he pulled into the narrow parking lot and stepped out of his car.
    He looked up as he stepped out, taking in the aged building as he made his way to the door. The bright purple paint on the building had faded with time, leaving behind a deep, muted purple that only seemed to retreat from the dark, green trim framing the building. He swallowed, nervous as darkened the doorstep of the strange establishment.
    Logan pushed open the heavy door, almost jumping at the sound of the bell that announced his arrival. He quickly slipped through the entrance but his unease only seemed to increase as the sounds of the traffic we dulled by the thick walls. His skin prickled with discomfort as he stepped forward into the empty shop.
    He hadn't thought to check for an open sign. After all, he'd hardly have assumed that a coffee shop would be closed on a Monday morning during prime business hours, and yet it appeared he was alone in the dim space. The natural light from the windows was muted by the large pine trees outside and the amber light cast down by the industrial style light barely seemed sufficient to light the room.
    Logan had barely stepped up to the counter when a figure suddenly rose up from behind the register. He bowed his head quickly, ashamed by how much he'd jumped when the man stood up, marker in his mouth as he stared at Logan.
    The man blinked, still staring at him as he pulled the marker out of his mouth with a knowing smirk. The man's long hair was pulled back into bun on the top of his head and he was wearing a dark colored hoodie with purple patches on the elbows. His smile twitched as he chewed on the piercing on his lips and Logan got the feeling that the man had enjoyed spooking him. The man chuckled at his disgruntled expression, pointing up at the faded menu board above him before slipping the marker behind his ear as he waited for Logan’s response.
    Logan bit his lip as he raised his wrist into the air to showcase the purple band around his wrist. He paused, expecting the man’s expression to change as he realized that Logan wasn’t able to speak. This wasn't a new experience and he'd seen all the reactions before. Sadness, pity, and even disgust at how young he was to have lost his privilege to speak, but nothing could have prepared him for the casual shrug the man gave in response.
    He couldn’t help but stare, dumbfounded by the lack of a reaction as the man turned to the espresso machine. His mind became a blur as he listened to the hissing of the machine, still shell-shocked by the man's nonchalance.
    After a moment, the man seemed to catch him staring and he smirked as Logan started. He flushed, suddenly embarrassed by his distinct inability to function like a normal human being and follow basic social norms like not staring at the attractive barista who seemed to be taking pleasure in his incompetence. Taking a step back, Logan bowed his head as he tried to hide the red burn in his cheeks. He started to turn to find a table to wait, but the man almost jumped over the counter at him trying to get his attention.
    Logan looked up as the man’s smirk softened as he leaned back holding up his hands in a gentle apology. He smiled, waving Logan back over as he turned to finish with his process. Logan stared for a moment before reluctantly returning to the bar. He watched the barista work and a moment later, the man slid the purple to go cup across the counter to Logan.
    Black coffee.
    Two sugars.
    Splash of cream.
    Whatever the man had handed him was most certainly not that, but Logan had to admit this drink was much tastier than what he'd grown accustomed to drinking. He'd been to dozens of shops and always been served the same drink. His lack of words had always meant he couldn’t order and that had left him at the mercy of the standard drink every shop had agreed to serve people like him.
    Logan stared down at the cup, almost shell-shocked by the unexpected flavor. He didn’t even known coffee could taste this good. The flavor didn’t have even a hint of bitterness and the steamed milk was light and fluffy with a sweet caramel finish. The sweet drink was absolutely divine.
    “Pretty decent, huh?”
    Logan had just started taking another sip when the man's words startled him. He choked, nearly dropping his delicious drink in the process and his eyes turned up to the stranger's knowing grin as the man leaned forward on the bar. He hesitated a moment too long, shocked by the man’s casual use of his words, only to realize a moment too late that he was expecting an answer. Slowly, Logan nodded and he smiled as the man perked up.
    “Name's Virgil and, um, I'm not busy at the moment.” The stranger leaned on the bar, glancing around the room with a raised eyebrow. “Do you think maybe you'd like to stay a bit?”
    Logan hesitated, looking at the door. He knew he was already going to be late for work, but he couldn't help but be intrigued by the handsome man who seemed willing to throw away precious words on a complete stranger. His silence hung over them, even more deafening than usual as he pondered the stranger’s invitation. That was, until a soft fur brushed Logan’s hand and he startled once more, looking to see a purring mass of dark fur staring up at him with glittering amber eyes.
    “That's Azazel.” The barista drawled lazily as Logan turned back to his smile. “I'd lie and say you were special, but the truth is she’s kind of a slut for anyone who's willing to pet her.”
    Logan snorted, slightly embarrassed as he glanced nervously at the soft expression on the man's face and extended his hand out to the cat. The black mass lifted up to reveal her slender black legs as they stretched as she arched her back before pushing her head into Logan’s hand. He chuckled as she purred and allowed Logan to scratch under her chin, leaning her head in for more.
    “Are you sure you can’t stay?”
    Logan bit his lip as he turned his gaze back up to Virgil. He shook his head. He wanted nothing more than to stay with the stranger who had spared more words on him in this short conversation than he'd been given in weeks, but he couldn’t afford to abandon his job. He liked the job had now. It was comfortable and gave him more freedom than most places would, given his social status. Not to mention, the placement process for employment for those without words was an experience he wasn't eager to repeat. Reluctantly, he shook his head at the stranger, feeling the disappointment weigh heavy on his chest as he stepped back to leave.
    “Now, just hold on,” Virgil raised a hand to stop him. Logan turned back, surprised to see the barista swinging around the counter. “This isn't a one time offer.”
    Logan paused, shocked as the man reached out to take his hand. He stared in bewilderment as the man flipped his wrist over and rolled up his sleeve. Virgil pulled the marker from behind this ear and popped off its cap. Logan's mouth dropped open as Virgil took the black marker and started to write on his forearm.
   “You know where that is?”
    Canterbury Park.
    Logan blinked as he looked down to read the words scribbled on his forearm. From what he remembered, the park was close to here and not far from his own house actually. He looked at his wrist, still mystified by the ink now decorating his skin for a moment longer before nodding up at Virgil.
    “Good,” The man whispered with a smirk. “If you’re interested, meet me there tonight around 9pm.”
    Logan nodded, still holding his arm and looking shell-shocked as he turned to go.
    “Oh, and you best keep that hidden.” Virgil smirked, gently pulling at the piercing in his ear as Logan turned his head over his shoulder. “I don’t do parties. That invite's just for you.”
    Logan felt heat rise in his cheek as he nodded and the stranger flashed him a coy smile. He quickly pulled his sleeve down and shuffled back out of the door, jumping again at the sound of the bell as he ducked out of the shop.
    Logan was shaking as he dropped into the seat of his car. He quickly set his coffee into the cup holder immediately to avoid spilling the precious liquid as his hands started to shake. His hands found their way up to rest firmly on the steering wheel as he tried to steady his breathing. His eyes lifted up to the shop windows if disbelief as he tried to process what had just happened. Needless to say, this was not how he’d anticipated his morning going.
---
    Logan's focus was all but non-existent for the rest of his day. He was fortunate enough that his reputation of reliability kept him out of trouble with his boss. In fact, she’d barely even looked up as he walked in the door nearly twenty minutes late. It perturbing how dreadfully normal the day was as it passed. It was entirely as though the encounter with the stranger was nothing more than a dream. He may not even have believed it happened, if it weren't for the black ink still scribbled on his arm.
    Logan set the coffee on his desk and began to pull his pencils out of his bag. His drafting board was laid out in front of him. The numbers stared back at him in the only language that had ever come naturally to him.
     He tried to set to work on his current drafting project. He'd been assigned to design a new public art house on the south side of town. It was a project he’d been lucky enough to land when so many people like him were simply placed into manual labor or food service. Not that he would ever belittle the importance and necessity of such jobs, but the opportunity to pursue creative work drove him to push the boundaries of what people like him should be encouraged to do. In a world of silence, this was his voice and he was ready to shout from the mountaintops.
    Usually.
    Yet somehow, today he seemed utterly speechless. He could barely put his pencil to the board without shaking. Every time he moved, his sleeve pulled up to reveal the black ink on his skin, and each time, the sight sent his thoughts spiraling towards the mysterious barista's offer. His coworkers moved around him, buzzing and humming as they worked productively, making him grow increasingly desperate to manage even to draw a straight line as his day dragged on.
    I shouldn’t go.
    He knew he shouldn’t even consider the man’s proposal. Meeting a strange man in the park alone at night was dangerous to say the least. His condition made him particularly vulnerable, and he knew it. If something happened, Logan couldn’t even call for help. It was the reason why he had always been exceedingly cautious in his previous ventures, so he couldn’t understand why he was even entertaining the idea now.
    Logan sucked in a breath, slowly releasing the breath as he pressed his hand to his sleeve, thinking about the dark scribble underneath. He knew the answer was obvious. Writing on his arm was an intimate gesture. In a world where the spoken word was rare, the written word was nearly non-existent. A thousand spoken words would not fade the black designs on one's arms as with the same potency as a single written sentence. Even among those with the most words to spare, few of them chose to give their words the world through writing. To give even two written words to a stranger was an incredible gesture of generosity and trust and not one he should throw away lightly.
    Oh, fuck. I'm actually going go.
    Logan swallowed, leaning back in his chair as he dropped his pencil on his desk. He gave up on trying to focus. With a sigh, he rested his head in his hands on his desk. He just needed to get through the day without the curiosity killing him. Whatever happened that night, he would simply take his chances on the meeting being worth the misery.
---
    The chill of the night crept up Logan’s neck as he turned into the dark park. He'd opted for a more casual outfit than this morning than he'd been wearing this morning.  The choice had taken him longer than he would like to admit, but he'd settled on a pair of straight, black jeans, his canvas side bag and a blue sweatshirt he'd gotten a few years ago as a gift from a friend. The blue garment had always been a bit of a comfort item for him, even as the years started to wear it thin. He'd loved it and had managed to keep it in perfect shape, and though he’d admit in this particular moment he was craving something a little less threadbare, it still brought him a sense of ease he waited.
    “You made it.”
    Logan jumped at the sound of the  man's voice, immediately feeling silly that he hadn't anticipated the man's appearance behind him. He smiled shyly, taking in the man’s appearance as he turned around. The man’s dark hair was covered by a slouch beanie and he wore a heavy leather jacket that was lined with a dark black fleece underneath. A plain back tee showed through the half-zipped jacket and the skinny jeans he wore seemed to be his signature shade of purple. Logan chewed his lip as the man stepped up to him, playing with the silver cuff on top of his right ear. Logan flashed a shy smile, shifting his feet as he tried to avoid staring.
    “You can relax, dude. I promise I don’t bite.” Virgil dropped his hand from his hear, flashing a coy smile at Logan. “I mean, not unless you ask nicely.”
     Heat rushed to Logan cheeks as he ducked his head to his chest as the man smirked at him.
    Nope, this is too much.
    He tried to turn away, only to be stopped as  Virgil’s gentle grip caught his arm.
    “Hey, wait. I'm sorry.” Virgil came up beside him, softening his grip on Logan’s wrist. “I'll cool it with the jokes, I swear—um, I didn’t actually catch your name."
    Logan nodded, staring at the genuine concern in the man's eyes as he stopped him. He relaxed a bit, allowing Virgil to guide him back as he reached for his wallet. After some digging, he pulled out an old ID card, faded from years of use, and handed to Virgil.
    “Logan King.” Virgil smiled, flashing a look up and down him as he handed back the plastic card. “That’s a killer last name, dude.”
    Logan tensed slightly at the verbiage, forcing a smile as he shoved his hands in his pocket. Still despite his attempt to conceal his discomfort,  the man somehow managed to pick up on the slight shift in his demeanor. His eyes immediately became apologetic as he held up his hands in gentle reassurance.
    “Listen, I'm not a serial killer or whatever you’re worried about,” Virgil smiled, almost appearing nervous as he watched Logan's head turn back to him. “I’m nervous too. That’s all. I haven’t been on a first date in a long time.”
    Logan blinked in shock, staring at the man with apparent confusion in his eyes. He was quiet as the man’s eyes suddenly filled with distress.
    “Oh, god—” Virgil stammered, suddenly fidgeting under Logan’s stare for a change. “—Please tell me you knew what this was. If that’s not what you came here for, I can walk you home. I didn't mean to—”
    Logan chuckled as he held up his hands to brush off the stranger’s worries.  The man stilled as he watched Logan’s movements. He seemed to understand that Logan was not uncomfortable with the thought, but the stranger was clearly still unsettled by Logan's surprise. Logan's shyness abated slightly and he stepped forward, taking the man’s hand in his own.
    Virgil looked down as Logan’s hand as their fingers intertwined together. His tension started to melt away as he tipped his head up to the gentle look in Logan’s eyes.
  “You’re sure this is what you want?”
   Logan raised an eyebrow, teasing as he pointedly looked down at the man's hand curled in his own before turning playful eyes back up to Virgil.
    “Alright, smart-ass.” The man laughed as he turned to pull Logan along the path. “I needed to check in with you. Consent’s important and all that.”
    Logan’s lips curled into a small smile as he nodded in appreciation of the gesture.
    “Alright, then.” Virgil whispered,  squeezing Logan’s hand as he started to pull him down the path. “Let’s go.”
     His posture softened as they ventured deeper into the park. Virgil’s grip was gentle as he led him up the slight incline through the trees. Logan looked up as they hurried along their way and he could see the stars were starting to shine through the darkening sky when he noticed the trees suddenly started to thin out in front of them. Logan swallowed feeling nervous as Virgil pulled him up next to him, but his mouth immediately fell open as he looked out at the sight before him.
    They stood at the side of a sheer drop that overlooked the shimmering lights of thee city. The light below had started to glimmer as the valley's inhabitants turned on their lights on and the sun above had dropped below the horizon, illuminating the sky in the most vibrant colors Logan has ever seen.  Wispy purple and blue clouds shown brightly against the amber halo of the sun.
   “Looks like we’ve got a good one tonight.”
   Logan adjusted his glasses taking in the sight as Virgil walked him over to the bench at the edge of the small cliffside. Virgil let him sit and stare for a moment before Logan managed to pull his attention away from the jaw-dropping sight in front of him and look over to the kind man’s crooked grin. He blushed, looking away as he coyly tried to hide his embarrassment.
    “So, I take it you’ve never been up here before?”
    Shaking his head, Logan leaned back into the bench and lifted his head to the man sitting across from him. He furrowed his brow, tapping his own bare wrist with a questioning glance at Virgil’s sleeves.
    “You don’t have to worry. I have plenty of words to spare.” Virgil smiled at the concern in Logan’s eyes. “Honestly, I don’t think I have a limit, and even if I did, I don’t really talk to that many people to begin with.”
    Logan blinked, glancing curiously down at the man’s covered arms. Virgil continued to stare at his troubled expression until Logan let out a sigh, raising his eyebrow as he reached a hand out to Virgil’s wrist with a question in his eyes.
   “You want to see my markings on the first date?” Virgil smirked, cocking his head as Logan flushed. “That’s scandalous, Logan. What would people say?”
   His face reddening, Logan pulled his hand back as he nodded an apology. He’d started to lean back when he felt Virgil touch his arm.
    “Hey, I’m just kidding.” Virgil slowly released eased away from Logan’s arm as he cautiously turned back to Virgil. He held a wrist out to Logan with a gentle smile, inviting him to satisfy his curiosity. “Seriously, I wrote on your arm within minutes of meeting you. You deserve a peek.”
     Logan was hesitant, staring at the man cautiously as he attempted to gauge his genuineness. When the man continued to smile at him, his curiosity started to take over and he found the will to lean forward. His eyes flitted carefully to the man’s arm as it curled around his shoulder in a smooth, though not subtle, movement. Logan smirked before relaxing into the bench behind him and turning his eyes down to Virgil’s wrist.  The man’s skin was soft as Logan held his hand, gently pushing the sleeve of his jacket up so he could see the man’s forearm.
    The sight of Virgil’s arm sent a jolt of adrenaline through his body and he automatically leaned forward in disbelief. He ran his thumb along the intricate design almost expecting it to disappear before his eyes. Unlike the black and grey designs he’d seen before, Virgil’s arms were full of intricate designs in all colors of the rainbow. Each line was clean and bright as one would expect of a newborn. The patterns swirled across his wrists in repeating lines and curves that formed such intricate patterns that Logan almost couldn’t believe what he was seeing. His mind went blank as he stared down at the beautiful patterns, running his fingers along the colors until a realization suddenly swept through his mind.
    Logan turned to dig through his bag for a few moments before pulling out a small novel and pointing to the author’s name as he held the book out to the man in front of him.
    Virgil Dark.
    Virgil chuckled as he took the book from Logan with a knowing smile. “Oh, great. You’re a fan, huh?”
    Logan flushed, suddenly shy as he suddenly made sense of the strange man’s identity. Virgil Dark, one of the few active authors in the world. His novels were a dark, genre of fiction, and like all authors, his novels were published and printed all over the world. His stories were coveted all over the world, though his own fame was clouded by certain shroud of mystery.
    In a world where words are such a rare and coveted commodity, it was common for authors to tour with their books. The sacrifice of words to be printed for the masses turned them into celebrities, and most authors were all to glad to eat up the attention, but Virgil Dark had always been an enigma to the world.
     Despite being one of the world’s most prolific creators, the author had never held a single viewing. He'd never even be seen as far as Logan knew. His stories just appeared on the shelves of bookstores one day, only to be gone the next as the masses greedily consumed his thrilling novels. Yet here he was, smirking at Logan as the gears turned slowly in his head.
    “They say it’s rude to stare.” Virgil prompted, chuckling as he flipped open Logan’s copy of his book. Logan’s heart dropped slightly as the man’s expression shifted. Bright colors followed the lines of text as Logan watched Virgil scan the text he highlighted. “Man, you really got into this one. Is it your favorite?”
     An embarrassed smile spread across Logan’s face as Virgil turned up to him. He nodded slowly as Virgil’s hand brushed his shoulder.
    “What’s your favorite part?”
    Logan bit his lip as Virgil handed the novel back to him. Pausing for a moment, Logan scrunched his face in thought before flipping through the pages. Virgil waited patiently as Logan dug through the pages, flipping back and forth through the pages until he found the right section. As soon as he settled on a section, pointing it out to Virgil as he handed the book back to him.
    “Oh,” Virgil breathed, slowly scanning the section that Logan had presented to him. Logan’s skin prickled nervously as Virgil grew quiet, flipping through his own writing. His voice softened as he turned up to Logan. “This was one of my favorite sections to write. There’s not much exciting happening. It’s just a moment of humanity between in the midst of the storm. I, um—I guess I didn’t realize there were people who enjoyed these bits. I mostly wrote them for myself.”
    Logan blinked at the sudden wave of emotions in Virgil’s eyes as he handed the book back to him.
    “People are always clamoring for more action, but really what’s the point if you don't give a shit about the characters.” Virgil smiled as he dipped his gaze to the ground. “I always felt like I was just throwing those sections in for myself, so I’m glad to know there are people out there who resonated with them.”
    A soft smile spread across Logan's face as he turned his head down to flip through the pages of the novel, humming to himself as Virgil stared at him.
    “Do you read a lot, Logan?”
   Logan let out a sigh and his smile faded slightly as he nodded down at the book. His gaze turned to the ground and he leaned his elbows down to his knees, flipping absently through the pages.
    “Whoa,” Virgil leaned forward as Logan's expression shifted. “What’s that look for?”
    Continuing to stare down at his book, Logan stared at the pages full of words with a forlorn look in his eyes.
    “Come on,” Virgil pushed gently. He reached out to Logan's forearm, frowning as Logan winced at the contact. Slowly, he backed his arm away, watching the emotions flash across Logan’s face. “You can be honest with me.”
    Logan snorted with contempt as he set the book to the side. He stared at the ground blankly as the man watched him carefully from his periphery. A moment passed before he turned back to Virgil. He stared up at the dark circles under the man's eyes reached forward, holding his bare wrists next Virgil’s colorful forearm.
    Virgil stared at down at Logan’s wrist, glancing up at him as he took in the questioning look in Logan's eyes. He smiled softly as he curled his hand to take Logan’s arm. Slowly, his gaze dropped to Logan’s arm as he ran his thumb along his forearm. “I'm not so shallow that I'd judge someone based on how many words they have, Logan.
    Staring at the man in front of him, dread dropped like a stone in Logan’s stomach as he attempted to pull his arm back, surprised as Virgil caught his wrist.
    “I’m serious when I say this is the most interesting conversation I've had in months.”
    Logan’s lip twitched with doubt as he looked away.
     “I'm serious, Logan. I—” Virgil leaned closer as his hand closed around Logan’s, hesitating briefly. “Shit, dude. You’re freezing.”
    Logan shrugged, not particularly  concerned until Virgil pulled his hand back. The man started to unzip his leather jacket and Logan’s eye went wide as he tried to wave away Virgil’s attempt to hand him his leather jacket.
    “Just take it, dude.” Virgil smiled encouragingly. “I'll keep the lining. The fleece is plenty warm for me, and the leather will at least keep the wind off your arms.”
    The leather jacket was placed in his hand as Logan gave up his resistance. He nodded, reluctantly slipping the leather over his shoulders as Virgil’s fingers dropped to the zipper and he closed Logan into the jacket with a smirk.
    Virgil’s hands hesitated at Logan’s collar and he sucked on his lip as he looked up and down at him. “Leather's a good look on you.  You could actually be a proper punk if you felt so inclined.”
   Logan glanced down at his chest, unsure of how to process the compliment as Virgil smiled at him.
    “Seriously though, you’re the most interesting person I've met in years.” Virgil raised a hand to Logan’s cheek. “You may not have words, but you have a language all your own.”
    Virgil raised his hand, guiding Logan’s eyes up to him. “Your eyes light up when you’re excited and I get to see the most endearing smile every time I so much as brush your hand.”
    Logan blushed as Virgil dropped his hands to his lap. The man's voice dropped as he whispered to Logan with sincerity.
    “You have a language, Logan.” Virgil as he wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulder. “I'm sorry no one seems to have bothered to learn it, but I want to. If you’ll allow me, of course.”
    Virgil’s hand curled into Logan’s as the man's forehead leaned down to his own. Logan nodded stiffly as a lump rose in his throat, emotions filling his chest as he turned his head into Virgil’s shoulders as he stared up to the stars in the man’s eyes.
    The deep blue sky wrapped around them as Logan relaxed. He smiled shyly as he lifted a hand to point at Virgil’s lips before bringing his finger back to his own.
    “If you’re asking if you can kiss me, the answer is yes,” Virgil laughed, allowing Logan to lean closer. He paused, glancing at Logan with a cautious smile. “but if anything I do makes you uncomfortable, let me know. Push me away, squeeze my hand, whatever you need to do to get my attention. Okay?”
   Logan nodded, hand still intertwined with Virgil’s as he leaned into Virgil’s lips. The man's breath was warm as he leaned into Virgil’s chest, curling a hand around the back of his neck. Logan’s body felt lighter as Virgil’s arm curled around his shoulder and they leaned into each other under the light of the stars.
   When Logan finally pulled back, he turned up to see the soft look in Virgil’s eyes. He felt a warmth spread across his as he blushed, glancing down at the sleeves of the man's leather jacket around his wrists.
   “I think I could get used to seeing you like this, Logan.” Virgil whispered, smiling at the blush on his cheeks as he sat up. He chewed his lip as he stared down at Logan's eyes as they glittered in the moonlight. “I know it's starting to get late, and I can walk you home if you like, but do you think maybe you’d like to do this again sometime?”
    Logan lifted his head and raised a hand to Virgil’s cheek, pausing for a moment as he stared into the eyes of the mysterious man who fate had set into his path. Virgil’s eyes stared down at him, and he didn't see something broken. For the first time, someone looked at him with curiosity and wonder and suddenly he didn't feel the limits of his voice. Logan smiled as his body relaxed and he leaned in to kiss Virgil.
    “I'll take that as a yes.” Virgil whispered, chuckling as he leaned into Logan's kiss.
---
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@justanotherhumanstuff @im-an-anxious-wreck
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grailfinders · 3 years
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Fate and Phantasms #167
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Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re making the single horniest character in FGO (in every sense of the word), Heaven’s Hole, a.k.a. Kiara Sessyoin. One half enlightened saint, 99% insatiable demon, all NSFW. Kiara’s an Open-Hand Monk to give off that aura of purity she loves so much, but she’s also a Great Old One Warlock to finally answer the question, “Can you really be a warlock if your patron is yourself?” (The answer is yes)
Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!
Next up: Cheer for your empress! Wooooo!
Race and Background
Kiara may be human, but she’s been infused with the spirit of an otherworldly horror. That’s a Kalashtar, baby! This gives her +2 Wisdom and +1 Charisma, as well as some other mentally themed goodies. Your Dual Mind gives you advantage on all wisdom saves, and your religious training gives you the Mental Discipline to resist psychic damage. You can Mind Link to creatures within 10 times your level in feet, speaking to them telepathically for up to an hour or until you end the effect or link with another creature. Finally, you’re Severed from Dreams, meaning you’re immune to spells involving your dreams. Sleep still works, Dream doesn’t. God I wish that was me, it would make youtube so much less annoying.
As a Devilish Bodhisattva, you’re kind of a Sage, giving you proficiency with the Arcana and History skills.
Ability Scores
First things first, you’ve got to be so hot you can make people masturbate to death. That’s non-negotiable. I’ll leave the exact mechanics of that to your imagination, but it’s probably based on Charisma. Aside from manipulating people, you’re also just as good at reading people, and that’s Wisdom. You fight in a habit and  do it all without dying, so your Dexterity isn’t that bad either. Unfortunately this leaves your Intelligence a little lower than we’d like. You’re a hacker nun, but we needed other stuff more. Your Constitution isn’t that great, you’re so eager for pleasure you don’t last that long. Finally, dump Strength. You’ve got a demon god to do all the lifting for you, who needs muscles?
Class Levels
1. Monk 1: Starting off as a monk gives you Unarmored Defense, which is really useful for that “not dying” thing you like to do. You also get Martial Arts, letting you use your dexterity for your unarmed attacks. You can also attack as a bonus action after attacking with your action, and your unarmed attacks deal 1d4 damage, and they grow as you level up.
You get proficiency with Strength and Dexterity Saves, as well as Insight for your psychological training, and Religion for the whole nun/buddhist thing. You have a lot going on as a character, to be honest.
2. Monk 2: Second level monks get Ki Points they can spend to attack twice, dash, disengage, or dodge as a bonus action. You also get Unarmored Movement to speed things up a bit, and you get even faster as you level up.
3. Monk 3: Third level monks can summon a bit of demon pillar to Deflect Missiles, slowing down incoming ranged weapons and possibly even shooting them back as a reaction. (Obviously the demon thing isn’t all monks, but hush.) You also set down the Way of the Open Hand, learning the Open Hand Technique in the process. When you hit a creature with a flurry of blows attack (the two attacks as a bonus action thing), you can: force a dexterity save to knock the enemy prone; force a strength save to push it away; or remove its ability to react for the round. I’m not sure how you touching a person makes them fall to their knees or get distracted, get your mind out of the gutter.
4. Monk 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to bump up your Dexterity so you can actually hit people with your fists. You can also Slow Fall to reduce falling damage, presumably by swinging around on a demon pillar like some kind of spider woman, and you get Quickened Healing, letting you spend a ki point as an action to heal thy burgers. Despite your looks, you’re pretty tanky with all that healing.
5. Monk 5: Your Extra Attack does exactly what it sounds like, attacking twice in a single action. You can turn any of your attacks into Stunning Strikes, forcing a constitution save against getting stunned for a round. Ironically this is just leading into the explosive climax, where you beat the hell out of them. Where did you think I was going with that?
6. Monk 6: Sixth level monks get a little magical thanks to their Ki-Empowered Strikes so now your unarmed attacks ignore nonmagical damage resistances. You also gain a Wholeness of Body to heal yourself as an action. Unlike quickened healing, this baby heals you for 3 times your monk level once per long rest.
7. Warlock 1: Making your hands a little magical is nice, but we want to make stuff a lot of magical, and for that we’ll need to make some questionable deals. That’s where the Great Old One comes in, giving you Pact Magic you can cast with your Charisma and an Awakened Mind. It’s more telepathy. Not a huge boon, but now you can talk to two people at once, neat!
As far as spells go, Chill Touch lets you make creepy hands (kind of your thing), and Eldritch Blast gives you some generic magic projectiles. Charm Person makes you a bit more charming, and Protection from Evil and Good will help cut through those pesky rulers more easily by just straight up ignoring their god.
8. Warlock 2: Second level warlocks get Eldritch Invocations, to customize your soul pact a bit. Beguiling Influence makes you proficient with Deception and Persuasion to help cover up the whole demon pillar thing, and Thief of Five Fates lets you cast Bane with a spell slot once per long rest, further weakening your enemies.
You can also cast Arms of Hadar to launch more arms all around you for an AoE attack.
9. Warlock 3: Kiara’s definitely a weird one when it comes to her pact boon. Books have kind of fallen out of fashion by 2030, she doesn’t use weapons, and she really doesn’t care for a sidekick. That leaves her with the Pact of the Talisman to make her a little bit better than everyone else, letting the wearer add 1d4 to a failed ability check Proficiency times per long rest.
She can also cast second level spells now, like Enthrall! She’s the only person in the world according to herself, and now she is to you too! Just fail that wisdom save and you’ll have disadvantage on perception checks to notice anyone else!
10. Warlock 4: Use this ASI to bump up your Charisma for stronger warlock spells. You also get the On/Off cantrip from a super old UA to become a bit of a hacker, magically turning on or off an electronic device within range. You can also Detect Thoughts to be one hell of a therapist, being able to read the mind of a nearby creature as an action while the spell lasts. You can read surface thoughts over and over again, or you can probe deeper into the mind of a creature you’ve already read, forcing a wisdom save against the intrusion. Also, creatures are aware you’re reading their mind, and they can force a contested intelligence check to end the spell while they’re being read.
11. Warlock 5: Your first 3rd level spell is Hypnotic Pattern, to help dominate the minds of crowds all at once. You can also Mire the Mind to cast Slow once per long rest with a spell slot. Up to six creatures make a wisdom save, or they have their speed and AC reduced, take a penalty to dexterity saves, and can’t use reactions. On their turns, they can make either an action or bonus action, not both. It also can’t make more than one attack per turn. Finally, spellcasters affected by the spell have a 50% chance of taking 2 turns to cast a 1 action spell. Another wisdom save at the end of each turn can end the effect.
12. Warlock 6: All those hands and mind tricks coalesce into an Entropic Ward this level, letting you spend your reaction to impose disadvantage on an incoming attack. If it misses, you get advantage on your next attack against that creature. You can use this once per short rest.
You can also slip into your Heaven’s Hole persona by donning a Spirit Shroud, dealing more damage within a short area around you, preventing healing from enemies you hit with attacks, and slowing them down even further.
13. Monk 7: Bouncing back into monk gives you the Stillness of Mind to end effects messing with your thoughts as an action. The only person around here doing any charming today is you, thank you very much. You’d also be correct in saying the only person around here period is you, but I digress.
Your Evasion boosts your dexterity saves, so your failures are as good as other people’s successes, and your successes avoid damage entirely.
14. Monk 8: Use this ASI to bump up your Wisdom to become more observant, and get stronger techniques and a higher AC.
15. Monk 9: Ninth level monks get an Unarmored Movement Improvement, helping you run straight up walls and over water, as long as you end the turn on solid ground. Admittedly that’s not very in-character, but you’ve got tentacles growing outta ya, I’m sure you can justify it somehow.
16. Monk 10: Tenth level monks have a Purity of Body that makes you immune to poisons and disease.
17. Monk 11: Your final level of monk grants you a Tranquility that makes you harder to hit, effectively giving you the effect of a Sanctuary spell starting and ending on your long rests, though the spell ends early if you directly attack or cast a spell at an enemy. While active, creatures trying to attack you directly have to make a wisdom save. If they fail, they have to choose a new target or waste their action. The DC is 8 + your wisdom modifier + your proficiency bonus.
18. Warlock 7: Seventh level monks get fourth level spells, like Evard’s Black Tentacles. A 20′ square becomes a mass of tentacles (or demon god pillars), forcing a dexterity save against taking bludgeoning damage and get restrained. They can use their action to try and escape the tentacles, otherwise they don’t get a save on their next turn to avoid damage.
You can also use your Gaze of Two Minds to see and hear though a willing humanoid, like, say, your enthralled servants. Great for espionage, or just being a creep in general.
19. Warlock 8: Use your last ASI to max out your Charisma for super strong spells and the most sex appeal you can squeeze into a single servant.
You can also cast Summon Aberration now to give Zepar a bit of breathing room outside of your body. Honestly the poor guy deserves a break.
20. Warlock 9: Ninth level warlocks get fifth level spells, and Dominate Person lets you completely take over a creature’s mind. They have a wisdom save to avoid it, and they can make another every time they take damage, but if you’re forcing them into a really one sided fight, like say, against an agent of the counter force, that’ll be a one hit kill, so you don’t have to worry too much.
You also get one last invocation, and the Grasp of Hadar turns your eldritch blasts into even more hands, so once per turn you can pull a creature hit by the blast 10 feet closer to you. Bet they thought they were real smug waiting on the other side of your tentacle pit, huh?
Pros:
With an AC of 16, tons of mobility, and a wisdom save between you and even getting hit in the first place, you can be tough to attack, giving you a weird sort of tankiness to avoid conflict altogether.
You’re also good at manipulating people, with charms, mind reading, and just good persuasion scores making it easy for you to turn the tide of a conversation in your favor. Also if you’re having trouble with an enemy you can just dominate them and tell them to jump off a cliff, really easy. You won’t even have to fight if you can just inspire a mob to do it for you.
While the biggest part of your defense does come with a caveat, you’re good at indirect combat, which will keep your sanctuary up longer. Sure, you can’t cast spells affecting a creature, but you can always cast a spell now, and have it affect a creature later, the old “I’m just moving my fist and walking forward, if you get hit it’s your own fault” technique. Putting Evard’s Tentacles down between you and enemies, summoning aberrations, and just using On/Off to cause industrial accidents are all ways to get around this restriction and leave you looking clean as a brand new pair of panties.
Cons:
Your dexterity isn’t great, especially for a monk. That’ll make it harder to effectively use your martial techniques later in the game, and it also hampers your AC.
Despite all your defenses and healing, you’re still only rocking a touch over 100 HP, meaning a light sneeze will put you into power word kill territory. Which is, admittedly, still affected by your Tranquility, so it might not be a bad way to trick people into wasting a 9th level spell...
You only get two spells per short rest, that just isn’t enough to manipulate everyone you want to, so you’ll have to learn to pick and choose what happens when.
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Whiskey Kisses (Agent Whiskey x plus sized Reader)
Authors Note: Hello!!!! If this looks familiar it’s because it is! This was written in the middle of my covid sickness back in January and I have not touched it since lmao. I figure it might be better to edit it a bit, and post it all as one rather than two separate entities since the second part was only separate bc I hadn’t written it yet at the time I posted the first one. I’m hoping that I’ve gone through and removed any glaring descriptors that will exclude folks but the one thing that remains is that this is a plus sized reader (gotta leave a little bit of me in there lmao!) This was/still is my first attempt at smut so I'm hoping I've read enough to get somewhat of a grasp on it ✌ Plot is the same, wildly incredibly self indulgent, Whiskey is as charming as ever and hopefully the new post will get some fresh eyes on it! Hope everyone enjoys~~
Word count: ~7000
Warnings: NSFW 18+ fem plus sized reader (a bit of body insecurity that is Very Brief), Daddy Kink, Loss of Virginity (including insecurity about being a virgin), Praise Kink, no y/n used, excessive use of pet names bc Whiskey is a menace,If I’ve missed anything please don’t hesitate to let me know!
The place smelt like smoke. That was first scent that hit you as you moved through the crowdto the bar, claiming a seat on the side nearest to the exit. This was your first time out and about in your new city and you weren’t exactly sure what you were here for. At the least you would get a good night of entertainment from people watching from your position at the bar. Maybe you would make a friend. That’s how it worked for people your age right?
It had been so long since you had to put yourself out into social situations that weren’t engineered to create bonds--this wasn’t school and it wasn’t work, the two places where you felt confident about your social skills. You feared you might be a little behind on friend making procedures. This was only your second week in town. You’ve moved from home because you knew you couldn’t stand one more day in your hometown. Moving back after college had been a great way to save up money, but you were tired of living with your parents and tired of the same small town views. It hurt leaving your folks and it hurt to leave your friends even more. But you knew that sooner rather than later they would be moving out into the world. That’s what was expected and you were terrified but immensely excited to be the first one in your group to make the leap.
Now you’ve found yourself here alone in a bar nursing some sugary drink that had been listed in chalk on the special board outside the bar. You didn’t mind being alone. In the past you’d learned to enjoy your own company —going thrifting on your own or heading to see a movie when everyone else was busy. That being said, you found being alone in a bar a much more harrowing experience. You didn’t usually spend much time alone in places where the drunken masses gathered. Parties, clubs, and bars weren’t usually your scene and let alone without your group of friends there as backup.
You were out to be social yet still hoped that your phone would serve as a good enough reason for no one to come up and ask for a dance. Sure, there were some attractive people in the bar tonight, but you were only on your first drink and didn’t have enough in your system to get yourself out on the dancefloor with someone you didn’t know. Not yet at least.
Your attention was pulled from your phone by a movement in your periphery, a silhouette passing behind you. It was a…cowboy?
That wasn’t who you were expecting to see. This wasn’t a country bar by any means and he stood out amongst the other patrons in their casual clothes. He kept a respectful distance leaving a seat between the one he chose and yours as if to not block you in. You stared, taking in his outfit, he seemed like the real deal. Cowboy boots with spurs, well-fitting denim jeans, and a Stetson seated on top of dark hair. Only thing out of place was his shirt. You weren’t a hundred percent sure what kind of shirts cowboys wore, but you weren’t betting on a nicely pressed dress shirt.
He looked young upon first glance, then you noticed the smile lines around the corner of his eyes and mouth. That and the way he carried himself, his essence, revealed that he probably had some years on you though that didn’t lessen the attraction any. He turned suddenly and you couldn’t look away; embarrassed as you were to be caught staring. Not when those gorgeous brown eyes met with yours. He raised a hand to the brim of his hat and honest to god tipped it in your direction with a smile and a quiet “Evenin” on his lips.
You cleared your throat and cradled your glass in your hands, fingers working to twist and turn it. “Evening…didn’t expect to see a cowboy in here tonight.” You take a small sip. “Doesn’t really seem like your scene” you finish, looking around at the crowd, all dressed differently but certainly no cowboys among them.
The stranger lets out a laugh and a smile lights up his face as the bartender works his way to your side of the bar. “Maybe not darlin but this cowboy is home anywhere he can find a beautiful lady and a whiskey, neat.” He says this last part to the bartender who you find standing in front of the two of you. He gives a nod at the cowboy and glances over at you and you notice your drink is almost empty. “Put this sweet thing’s next drink on my tab” he says with a wink in your direction and you can’t help but feel heat flood your face. This is the first time you’ve ever been bought a drink by a stranger at a bar.
You realize the bartender is waiting patiently on you and you panic. You had wanted to switch drinks after finishing this one off, tired of the sugar, worried over the hangover it might bring. “Oh! Uhm, whiskey neat also. Thank you.”
The stranger sitting close to you raises his eyebrows at your order, his eyes glancing between your own and the remnants of your sugary cocktail. You smile and give him a shrug “Buyers choice I suppose.”
He lets out a chuckle and holds his hand out across the empty seat between you. “Jack Daniels. Nice to meet you.” You give him your hand and your name and you watch as his eyes trail over you.
He smiles, as if he’s seen something he likes once his eyes have finished their exploration. You can’t blame him as you had just done the same thing. But you couldn’t help but be a little puzzled. You hadn’t really dressed with the goal of attracting attention to yourself tonight. You chose your favorite pair of light-wash jeans (you were told they hugged your curves nicely) and a band t-shirt with a light flannel on top. It was comfortable and you looked nice, but you hadn’t dressed to impress.
The drinks arrive and Jack raises his glass in the air and tips it in your direction. You hurriedly grip yours and do the same, smiling at the clink of meeting glasses.
The whiskey stings your lips, chapped from your habit of nervously biting at the soft skin in new situations. You don’t often drink whiskey and you attempt to school your face into something neutral, trying not to cough, as the smoky alcohol burns its way down your throat. A burn that you find yourself enjoying mere moments after it passes. You over at Jack who doesn’t avert his eyes when you catch him staring at you, an amused expression on his face. If he noticed your brief grimace that came with your first sip of the whiskey, he was a true gentleman and kept it to himself.
“Is Jack Daniels really your name?” Taking him in with an incredulous look. Who the hell is named after a whiskey brand? Or who uses it as a fake name and then orders it at the bar? Sighing with a smile, he nods. “It was a name before a brand, sugar. Plus, now all my friends can call me Whiskey. You can too if you’d prefer.” He finishes with a wink.
Setting his glass down he doesn’t give you time to react beyond your surprised stare. “So. What’s a beauty like you doing all alone, stuck here talking to an old man like me?” You let out a laugh and look at him incredulously. Confirmation that he was older but you wouldn’t have thought to call him an old man. He’s really laying on the charm thick though. You can’t say you’re mad at it.
“I’m new to town.” You reply. “Figured after a week of unpacking and organizing I deserved a night out on.” He gives a grin. “I don’t know about the other fellas in this joint, but I for one love an independent woman.” Grinning you take another sip from your glass, the burn still there but less aggressive. “Well we all have to learn to be independent one way or another right?”
Humming in agreement he meets your eyes with a smile and doesn’t look away. Cheeks continuing to burn away, you give a smile back. This much undivided attention on you is new territory. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t reveling in it.
“So what do you do when you’re not out wooing the ladies at the bar? You a real cowboy?” You ask, giving him another once over. As a general piece of knowledge from living in a town with some farming areas you knew that genuine Stetsons and real leather boots didn’t come without a hefty price tag. And he certainly didn’t look cheap.
“I’m an agent for a secret independent intelligence agency.” He says this with no hesitation or humor in his voice. Simply a flat reply. You raise your brow at him and snort into your glass. “And now that you’ve told me you’ll have to kill me right?” Jack takes your joke in stride “I don’t think I would ever deny the world a beauty like yours by killing ya darlin”
He swirls his whiskey in his glass as you blush. “Really though I work on the board for Statesmen Distillery. We’re based in Kentucky.” You smile with a nod, taking another sip from your glass “Well that certainly explains- well just about everything about you. How’d you find yourself here then? Need a vacation?”
This line of questioning leads you and Jack chatting back and forth about nothing and everything. He asks about your family, the move, how you found yourself moving from your hometown all by your lonesome. He tells you about his job, the boring meetings, how he really enjoys spending time on his ranch, watching the sunset. (He pulls out his phone at one point, showing you a picture of a calf that you can’t help but coo at, directing baby noises at the phone in his hand. He seems endeared by this.)
You had always had a hard time talking to people you didn’t know, keeping to your same group of friends because of this reason. With Jack though you didn’t feel any lulls in the conversations, no awkward silences. You couldn’t remember the last time it had been so easy to have a conversation with someone.
As the two of you finish off your second round of whiskeys, a slow country song begins to play from the speakers. Most of the crowd looks confused at the shift in vibes from the DJ booth. The DJ in question points towards the corner where you and Jack have been sitting and winks; odd to pander to the one cowboy in the crowd. You’re not going to complain though, and it seems, neither is Jack. “Tennessee Whiskey. Just like my namesake.”
He hums in appreciation before he stands, holding a hand out to you. “Would you like to dance darlin?” You’ve never been much for slow dancing, but you knew you’d be kicking yourself with regret if you said no. You place your hand in his as he leads you out onto the dancefloor. The music swirls around the two of you and you feel your nerves spike, hoping your hands aren’t sweaty, that you don’t step on his feet and praying to whatever god is out there that you can keep the rhythm. But as he gently tugs you closer into his embrace you feel any apprehension disappearing you’re your mind.
You find yourself looking up at him, dark and beautiful brown eyes meeting yours. You take a risk and lean your head against his shoulder as you sway, taking in a deep inhale of his scent. It’s beautiful, not too strong. You can smell the whiskey on his breath and you wonder what cologne he uses. It’s something oaky and fresh and the combination is enough to intoxicate you even further.
“Sugar…” the pet name comes out as a whisper from above.“I’d be doing myself a disservice if I didn’t ask if I could kiss ya right now.” You pull back looking up into those eyes that you could get lost in. He’s leaned in close to you now, his breath dancing across your lips. You part them to respond and you knew you would be doing yourself a disservice if you didn’t say yes.
Wordlessly you nod and can’t help the sigh that escapes you as he tilts his head and his lips meet yours.
It’s not your first kiss, but you can count all the previous ones on a singular hand. He’s gentle, his hawkish nose that you’ve found yourself enamored with brushes softly against your cheek as your lips dance together. You hum in contentment, bringing your arms up and around his neck, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.
He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip and it may sound juvenile but you hadn’t had much experience with tongue kissing. You part your lips anyways, following intuition, allowing his tongue access. The sensation is foreign but not unwelcome and you can’t help moaning, and his hold on your waist tightens as you’re pulled even closer against him. You spend a few moments in the middle of the dance floor in his embrace, tongues dancing together and thoroughly getting lost in him.
He pulls back for a moment and you’re thankful he made the decision because you hadn’t even noticed the fact that you still needed air. You cringe at the whimper you let out as your lips detach, you hate at how pathetic you sound, hate that you instinctually go to chase them. It doesn’t seem like Jack cares though, he’s gazing down at you, bringing up a hand to rest on the side of your face, a thumb coming to sweep across your bottom lip before swooping down for a second kiss. This one is much more brief. “How would you like to ride home on a real cowboy?” he murmurs against your lips.
You freeze up at his question knowing exactly what he’s asking. Your eyes going wide as you try to stammer out excuses that won’t reveal your true hesitation. This particular insecurity doesn’t come up a lot but you’re never sure how to breach the topic of your virginity whenever scenarios like this pop up.
Jack pulls back, a concerned look growing on his face at your muttering. “I’m sorry if I overstepped, doll. It wasn’t my intention to make you uncomfortable. We don’t have to do anything other than sit around here all night. I’d enjoy any time spent with you.” His eyes met yours and they were so kind and soft and you felt your heart melt a little at his crooked smile. You had just met him but you made up your mind to tell him the truth so he wouldn’t walk away from the night feeling terrible.
You always make up something else and run before you can embarrass yourself further. Your younger years are supposed to be your “prime” and you know in your mind that it’s completely normal for you to still be a virgin. That being said you have always felt like it was some kind of barrier blocking you from ever truly being comfortable with romantic entanglements.
You sigh as another song picks up. You’re both still holding onto each other and swaying to the beat and you open your mouth to give this man some peace. “Jack I… listen you’re incredibly attractive and I love a cowboy, I really do. And you didn’t make me uncomfortable! I just-” you chew on your lip again, thinking if there was a better way to say this before deciding on just getting it over with so you can stop wasting his time.
“I’ve never…been with anyone like that before and I as much as I wanna save a horse and ride a cowboy, I know a lot of people don’t want the virgin burden on them so I completely understand if you want to find someone else for the night so you’re not wasting your time.” It comes out rushed and in one breath, you’re avoiding his eyes not wanting to see the disappointment that might radiate from them. When you finally looked up, he was still staring at you with those gentle eyes, it was too much for you and you cast your eyes back down.
In an instant you found his hand gently holding your chin, lifting your gaze to meet him once more. “Hey. Look at me. You ain’t got anything to be embarrassed about darlin’. And you’re certainly not a waste of my time. Far from it. Ain’t nothing wrong with being inexperienced.” His eyes crinkle with a smile directed at you and you grin back feeling relief wash over you. This is honestly the best one of these conversations.
“Now listen,” he continues “if you just wanna dance and drink the night away, I’m thrilled to get to know you more.” You nod waiting for the ‘but’ you knew was coming. “But if this is something you want to try and I’m the fella you wanna try it with, well then-” He leans down, voice dropping and breath dancing along your ear “-daddy will take care of you.”
He studies you then, gauging your reaction at his phrasing. He knew it was a bold move but hoped that it would pay off. And lucky for both of you it does. Your eyes widen and you let out a short gasp as you bite at your bottom lip. The term he used sent a spark of arousal directly through you and in that moment you know that Jack is exactly who you need to come home with you tonight.
You give Jack a nod and he caresses your face with his large calloused hand. “I need to hear you say it, sugar.” And fuck it if that doesn’t get you feeling all warm inside. “Y-yeah” it comes out shaky not purely from nerves but also through the adrenaline you can feel coursing through your body. “Take me home Jack.” He practically beams at you, pressing a quick kiss to your lips and tugging you back over to the bar so he can pay the tab. You didn’t walk in here expecting to leave with someone tonight but you’re the furthest thing from disappointed as the two of you rush out the doors.
--
You both make your way through the bar's exit and you find yourself standing in front of a vintage Ford Bronco, Whiskey holding the passenger door open for you. You smile and slide into the seat. “Such a gentleman. But you know, this isn’t the car I was expecting a fancy distillery man to own. But it does feel quite fitting.” You muse as he takes his own seat and starts the engine, the radio on low crackling to life. “It’s my pride and joy” he hums, gently patting the dash. “Anything could happen to me as long as my baby here is safe.”
You laugh at the man’s love for his car until the chuckle is cut off by Jack’s hand coming to rest on your leg. His touch is gentle, and he drags his palm up from your knee to your upper thigh and back down again. He glances at you from his periphery “This alright darlin?” You nod as he resumes his movements, tracing inscrutable patterns with his fingers whenever his hand pauses in its path.
You feel the telltale heat of arousal begin to pool in your stomach. You’re not unused to that. The new and exhilarating part of the scenario tonight is that you have someone else to take care of it. Someone other than your hands and your well-used vibrator. You’re thankful that the drive back from the bar to your apartment is short. If it was any longer than the ten minutes it took you might actually explode.
Jack pulls up and you direct him to park in the spot next to your own car. One that looks far worse than you usually find it when compared to the well taken care of Bronco next to it. Jack, continuing to be the gentleman he’s been all night, opens your door for you once more, grabbing your hand as you sling your purse over your shoulder and make your way towards the front door. The elevator ride up to the 5th floor is rife with palpable tension and you almost melt at the gentle circles Jack makes with his thumb on the back of your hand as it sits entwined with his.
The moment the two of you cross the threshold of your doorway you expect everything to begin at once, all passion and clashing lips. You find yourself surprised when you’re not immediately pressed against the door and ravaged like in the movies, and you see Jack take in your living room.
Luckily everything had gotten sorted in your first week and the only thing to indicate a new occupant were the stack of boxes in the corner that you needed to take to the recycling bin behind the building.
His eyes trail along your bookshelf, scanning the titles bookended by little trinkets and tiny figurines you had gathered from gifts and mall vending machines. He admires the paintings on your wall, all excellent purchases from the local Goodwill you thought.
You shift from foot to foot not entirely knowing how to start things off. This is your first time and Jack is the one showing you the ropes so you hover next to your couch as he finishes his scan of the room, turning to you with a soft smile. “You’ve made this place feel homey already, sugar. I love it.” You beam back at him happy to explain your interior design choices but in a moment he’s taking two large strides in your direction. “Now, mind if we pick up where we left off in the bar?” He brushes his knuckles gently across your cheek as he waits for your response and in an instant you’re already reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck once more.
It’s cliché and you know it but when his lips connect with yours once more you feel fireworks. An explosion of arousal deep in the pit of your stomach as you grant his tongue entrance. The kiss isn’t rough but it is passionate. You had always had the inkling that you would find a tongue in your mouth invasive and gross and you are thrilled to learn that isn’t true. Or maybe it’s just because of the man you’re with. Jack seems like the type of guy who can make anything feel good and you can’t wait to see what he has to offer you.
Detaching his lips from yours you find yourself unintentionally pouting. He laughs at his before leaning down to latch his lips onto your neck and the pout disappears as a moan rips through your body as he begins to suck and bite up your neck. Jack is savoring every moment he spends kissing you, you can feel the restraint lurking behind every kiss. You can feel your legs turn into jelly and you’re grateful for the hands around your waist and the couch back behind you for all the support you certainly need right now.
As Jack soothes a bite with his tongue he moves his hands from your waist and places them under your ass instead. He tugs you forward, your balance unstable without the couch behind you. You feel his muscles get to work and suddenly you’re off the ground letting out a startled gasp. “Don’t worry, sugar. Daddy’s got ya.” Instinct kicks in and you’re wrapping your legs around his middle, groaning at the contact between your clothed core and his waist. You hadn’t realized how desperate you were for some friction until now and it hits you like a freight train. Dropping your head against Jack’s shoulder you hear his laugh from above you. “Hmm, someone’s impatient ain’t she?”
Lightheadedness consumes you, astonishment at his strength combined with his teasing giving you an incredible heady feeling. “Jack please…” you rub circles into the nape of his neck and you feel his breath huff into your hair as he groans in response to your begging.
Wasting no time he carries you to your bedroom and gently sets you down on the bed. He stands above you as you stare up with wide eyes. He kneels in front of you at the edge of your bed and reaches a hand up to begin to slip the flannel from your shoulders. The gentle touch of his hands sends a shiver up your spine, even through the layer of clothing.
Soon your shirt is off and he’s tracing lazy patterns on the swell of your breasts. He gently palms your boobs through the lacy fabric of your bra and drags a thumb across the raised material where your nipples are hardening underneath. You’re not sure how much longer you can handle the touches, gentle and tantalizing and just enough to leave you wanting more. You move your arms up and back to unclasp your bra, throwing off the side of the bed to be dealt with in the morning.
Jack’s eyes are trained on your breasts now, even more so than before. There’s a hunger there, a desire that you’re not used to seeing directed at you. He leans forward and cups one breast with his hand and secures his mouth over your peaked nipple. You groan in pleasure and press your chest further into him, despite there being not much more space to fill.
He drags his tongue across your nipple before sucking, repeating the process every few seconds. You’re pleasantly shocked at the little nibbles that are peppered across your chest once he’s had his fill of licking. You move your hand down to gently grip at the back of his head, pressing him closer. “Daddy please, keep doing that it’s so good!” He eases his mouth off, a pleased smile on his face. “Anything you want sweetness.” And promptly moves to the opposite breast, continuing his work.
Soon you’re left panting and hungry for his same talented touch in a much more sensitive place. You tell him as much through panting breaths and he wastes no time to start shimmying your pants and underwear off with your help. He stands for a moment, beginning to remove his own clothes, a pile of his country wear being left in the corner of your room. You admire his broad shoulders, the hair on his chest, slim waist with just a hint of a belly that you’d love to kiss. You follow his happy trail down eyeing the prominent bulge in his jeans begging to be freed.
As you lay on the bed spread before him, you’re overcome with the urge to curl up into a ball to cover yourself. You wouldn’t say that you’re unhappy with your body. You love your curves and your tummy. No you’re not insecure…not entirely.
Jack is a handsome man and you’re lying here wondering if this is what he wants to see. You curse yourself for letting your insecurities try and ruin your night with this handsome man who clearly wants what you want. You fold inwards on yourself only slightly, bringing your legs closed and positioning yourself more on your side than on your back.
Jack finally back at you from where he’s been stripping and glances over at you with a furrowed brow, noticing the change in position. “Sweetness what’s wrong? We don’t have to do this if you’re having second thoughts.” You shake your head so quickly that you almost make yourself lightheaded. “It’s not that. I just-” you pause trying to think of the right way to explain yourself without sounding incredibly pathetic.
But it seems like Jack can read your mind. Before you can even continue to draft your thoughts, his brow straightens and an incredibly soft look crosses his features. He stands from his spot and kneels in front of you on the bed. “Doll, you are one of the most gorgeous creatures I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on. I just wanna make you feel good. Will you let Daddy take care of you?”
You can feel the heat bloom in your body and you nod as you release a shaky breath that you hadn’t realized you were holding. Jack smirks at your reaction, pleased that you’re less in your head.
He stands and holds you by your hip, urging you to rotate onto your back. Once you’ve done so, he grabs your ankles pulling them apart and down so your legs are dangling off the bed. He kneels on the ground in front of you once more and you see that his eyes are dark with lust. You feel dizzy, knowing that you’re the one having this effect on him. He lifts one leg over his shoulder, and then the other; finishing by sliding his hands under your ass and tugging you closer.
Any potential embarrassment is immediately banished from your mind as you feel his breath against your wetness. He wastes no time, flattening his tongue and licking a broad strip up from your slit to your clit. Your eyes widen at the sensation and you let out a loud gasp as he does it a second time. His tongue licks at your folds before his lips settle on your clit.
Immediately, as if they had a mind of their own, your hips try to buck into his mouth. Desperate for more pleasure, more of that tongue on you. You feel Jack grin against you and he wraps his arms around your waist to keep them still. “Woah now sugar, calm down.” He’s only removed his mouth a few inches, the hot breath teasing you with its closeness makes you want to writhe on the bed. Jack must feel the tension in your hips because he chuckles. “Don’t worry, Daddy’s gonna give you what you need.”
His mouth is on you again, alternating between swirling patterns on your clit and filling you with his tongue. The noises coming from his mouth as he works you closer to pleasure are filthy and you’re about to comment when he pulls back for a moment. You let out a ragged breath and sit up a bit, wondering why he stopped. He takes a thick finger and drags it up through the combined wetness of you and his spit. It teases near your opening and you groan as your want for more sparks once again.
He chuckles at your expression. It’s not a mocking one, you can tell with the way he’s looking at you, the softness in his eyes like he’s the lucky one for sharing this with you. He’s not away from you long. That same finger is entering you now and nothing has ever felt this good. You didn’t realize how different it would feel with fingers that weren’t your own. Yours always felt too methodical, his felt magical.
“You’re sweeter than honey. Did ya know that?” you’re glad you managed to open your eyes as you look down at him popping that same finger into his mouth, sucking it clean. You know you must look ridiculous, your eyes blown wide with lust and jaw hanging slack and open in shock.
You feel yourself clench tightly as Jack moves to slide a second finger in. His free hand reaches up to hold your hip, his thumb moving in calming circles along the skin there. “You gotta relax sugar.” He moves his head back to your clit, speaking directly into you. “I want ya to feel good. Just relax.”
You do your best to follow his instructions, taking a breath and focusing on his hand on your hip and his mouth on your most sensitive area. Feeling your muscles relax, Jack grins into you. “That’s a good girl.” And the praise makes you shudder. He moves a second finger through your folds gathering the pooling slick and slides them into your entrance. You can feel his fingers thrusting inside you, taking breaks to scissor outwards stretching you out in the most delicious way. The fingers curl, finding a spot you’ve never managed to find in your years of exploring your own body.
You throw your head back against the covers as you let out a wanton moan, eyes clenched shut in pleasure as he continues to stroke that sweet spot. You’re so lost that you don’t take notice of a third finger slipping in as he picks up the pace. You’re panting now, breath coming out rapid and hot as your chest heaves with the labor of trying to keep some semblance of calm as the man between your legs wrecks you. Between his fingers thrusting into you and his lips sucking at your clit you can feel your orgasm rushing up on you like a speeding train. You reach a hand down, hoping Jack doesn’t mind as you grab onto his hair letting out a breathless “Jack I’m gonna-” you can feel him nod slightly, groaning at the pressure of your fingers gripping onto his hair and the vibrations finally do you in.
You feel yourself clenching again, this time due to the amount of pleasure running through your body and your legs close gently around Jack who works you through your orgasam, only letting his fingers slide from you once you go limp against the sheets. He gives you another broad lick for good measure and you whimper from the overstimulation, not being able to form words yet.
He rises from his kneeling position and crawls onto the bed, one knee between yours, the other bracketing your leg. You stare up at him with glossy eyes, tracing over his slick mustache and chin. Reaching up, you circle your arms around his neck and bring him down for a kiss, slow and passionate and you moan into his mouth as you taste yourself, sweet and tangy, on his tongue. “You ready for more sugar? We can stop here if you need you.”
You know it’s the bare minimum, really, but you can’t help but be moved by the constant check-ins from Jack. It means a lot to you that he’s looking out for you every step of the way.
Not much for words for fear of getting to emotional, you reach over to your bedside table and pull the drawer open, fishing out a bottle of lube and a condom. You hand both to Jack and correctly reads this as an answer to his question. Looking down, he raises a brow in amusement. “A pink condom huh? That’s new.” Biting down on your tongue to hold back a laugh, you shrug under him. “They were free at the last pride I went to. Gotta stick with the thematic rainbow colors right?” He laughs with you ripping the foil open and rolling the condom onto his cock and you’re glad the two of you can laugh in the moment.
“Now sweetness, I’m gonna need you to relax again, alright? Daddy prepared you with his fingers but as you can see sugar, his cock is much bigger.”
Your eyes trail down his body and he was right. His cock was much bigger than his fingers and much bigger than the dildo you had made yourself comfortable with. But Jack has been patient and gentle all night and you’d be lying to yourself if the thought of him inside of you didn’t set a fire coursing through you.
His words sent heat right through you down to your core, you might have been overeager but his tone had you spreading your legs for him with a wink, a bold feeling suddenly overcoming you since your first orgasm. “I’ll relax daddy. I’ll be good.” His smile is blinding as he grabs one of your pillows and helps you settle it under you, lifting your legs to bracket his own hips.
He notches his cock at your entrance and your breath catches in your throat. He was right, it’s much different than his fingers. More filling, more intense, but just as pleasurable. The pain and pleasure intertwine and set your nerves alight. He inches in slowly, giving your body time to adjust to his size, the entire time he’s praising you, pressing kisses to your face, neck, and chest. “That’s a good girl. Taking me so well. That’s it sugar, keep breathing. You look gorgeous under me like this.”
His praise pulls you into his orbit further. Sooner than you expected you feel his hips make contact with your ass and you realize with a moan that he’s fully in you now. He remains still and bent over you, kissing you deeply, your fingers tangled in his hair. The stillness is agonizing, you need him to move and move now.
“Daddy!” you whimper, and you’d be embarrassed at the tone of your voice if you hadn’t felt him twitch inside of you. “Please move! Please, I'm ready for you to move.” He groans into your neck and obliges. He moves back, pulling out at a torturously slow pace and you feel his cock drag along your walls letting out a breathy moan. He pushes back in slowly too, continuing with this pace until you’re pulling at his hair again, whimpering and begging him to go faster.
“Alright darlin, you let me know if we need to stop now.” You eyes are trained on him as you nod, internally mesmerized at how much care he’s been taking tonight. You can’t say one way or another but you think it’d be hard to find someone to come into a bar hookup with this much gentleness.
“You’d be wonderful to tease darlin. You know that? I could listen to those noises all night, keeping you on edge. You think you’re begging now?” You clench at his words knowing that you were at his mercy, that at this point you’d let him do whatever he wanted as long as he kept cooing praise in your ear. “But tonight is about you, no teasin. Your wish is my command sugar.” He picks up pace and you can’t believe what you had been missing.
Your legs lock around his back bringing him in closer and you find yourself holding on, arms linked around his neck as he takes you on a ride.
What started off as a careful pace on Jack’s end, wound up pushing you to your limits. You didn’t think it would feel this good your first time. Maybe that’s what had kept you away for so long. But any fears had no place here as Jack rocked into you picking up speed with each thrust.
With one hand on your hip holding you steady, Jack leans down to start sucking a mark on your neck, pulling back to admire his handiwork in the form of a red mark that he knows will last a few days. In response your hands in his hair tighten their grip as you both let out simultaneous moans.
“Such a good girl for me.” Jack’s grunting into your neck at this point, his breath coming out hot and heavy, fanning across your skin. “Making me feel so good.” His thrusts are getting erratic now, losing rhythm. His hand dances across your skin, skimming across your chest before finding its way between your legs, thumb working small and quick circles on your bundle of nerves.
“You got another one in ya don’tcha sugar? I wanna see your face when daddy makes you cum.” You’re past words at this point only able to nod your head and moan in response.
With a few more powerful thrusts in tandem with the pressure on your clit you’re coming around Jack’s cock, head thrown back against the pillows with eyes rolling back in pleasure chanting his name.
Jack groans at the tightness around him and the expression on your face. He fucks you through your orgasm, removing his hand from your clit as he grips tightly onto your hips.
When Jack finishes, its with a shaky breath and a drawn out moan right next to your ear. And though you were on the verge of overstimulation so close to your last orgasm, the sound sent another pang of arousal through your body. You were definitely gonna store that away for later.
The two of you remain entangled for a bit. He’s softening inside of you as he gently peppers kisses to your forehead, nose and cheeks. You’re thoroughly exhausted, reveling in the attention and when he dips down you find yourself nuzzling into the juncture where his neck meets his shoulder. You worry for a moment that it’s too intimate for a bar hookup but immediately chase that thought off with a deep inhale, taking in the smell of sweat and sex and remnants of his cologne. It’s intoxicating.
Eventually he must tire of holding his body up so as to not crush you and he slides out of you slowly. You have to admit that you miss the fullness and only pout slightly as he stands from the bed, making his way into the bathroom.
When he returns the condom is gone and he has a damp washcloth in his hand. He kneels on the bed and begins gently wiping away the sweat on your brow, trailing the warm rag down your chest and between your legs. You can’t help but hum in contentment, not having expected this level of care after a one night stand. He balls up the rag and tosses it with expert aim back into the bathroom and you couldn’t care less where it lands. All you want is him back in your bed and pressed against you.
Words aren’t needed. Jack seems to read your mind and smiles down at you before crawling into bed behind you. You inch your body closer to his until you find his arms wrapping around your middle, tugging you close and eliminating the gap.
“Thanks for that Jack….that was-” you pause trying to find your words. “-that was fucking phenomenal.” You feel a huff of laughter against the back of your neck before feeling him shift positions allowing him to press another kiss to your temple. “I aim to please darlin.”
You close your eyes briefly before a pang of anxiety worms its way into your mind. “Will you still be here in the morning?” The question is quiet, whispered. Half of you wanting an answer and the other half hoping he didn’t hear as to not reveal yourself to be as vulnerable as you feel.
“Course I will sugar. I reckon–if you’re amiable–that there’s a few more things I can show ya.”
You’re giddy at the thought and can’t help but giggle. “I’d love that.”
You’re not sure where this thing between you two will go, but even if you only have him for one night, you know that it’s an experience you’re never going to forget.
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thetravelerwrites · 3 years
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Henry (Part 2) Lemon
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Rating: Explicit Relationship: Female Human/Male Naga Additional Tags: Exophilia, Monster Boyfriend, Naga, Amphiptere, Friends to Lovers, Best Friends to Lovers, Demisexual, Graysexual, Content Warnings: Cam Worker, Cam Model, Sex Worker Words: 4467
The reader breaks a rule and meets Henry’s family, where awkward questions make for an awkward dinner. Please reblog and leave feedback!
The Traveler's Masterlist
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After two and a half months, Henry finally had the money he needed to open up the second location even without renting out the opposite apartment, and the two of you were scouting for the new place. You’d decided that you would run one of them and he would run the other. You were sad that you wouldn’t be working together anymore, but the two of you lived together now, so at least you’d be able to spend time together at home. Henry was also talking about hiring on additional employees if the second location did well, so the two of you wouldn’t have to work so hard.
“What do you think of this place?” He asked. “It’s a little small for what I was thinking, but it’s right next door to a popular wedding venue. We could do special deals for the weddings.”
“That would generate a lot of business, even in the slow season,” You replied. “And it wouldn’t matter if it was small if we had two locations. We could just deliver what we didn’t have here from the main building. It’s only ten minutes away.”
“Right,” He agreed. “So? Is it a yes to this one?”
“Well, it’s your decision, babe,” You said. “It’s your money, your business.”
“And you’re my girlfriend,” He said, pulling you into his arms. “And my business partner. You input matters to me. We make all decisions together.”
You smiled at him fondly. “God, I love you.”
He grinned down at you. “I love you, too. So?”
You looked around one more time and said, “It’s a yes. I like this place. It’s got character.”
“Right? It’s charming. We can work with charming. I’ll pay the deposit on Monday.” He picked you up and swung you around, as well as he could with his long tail in the way. “I’m so excited! Owning my own shop was my dream, and I never expected to be able to expand!”
“I’m so happy for you, babe,” you said, kissing him. “For both of us.”
He kissed you back twice and set you back down on your feet. “So, you’re still up for this weekend? Meeting the parents and everything?”
“Of course, I’m dying to meet them,” You said. “Do… they know about your side job?”
“No, they don’t,” He said firmly. “And I’d like to keep it that way, please. I mean, you know I’m not ashamed of my job, but it’s still my parents. All parents know their kids jerk off and stuff, but they definitely don’t want to talk about it.”
“This is slightly different, don’t you think?”
He shrugged. “It’s still embarrassing to tell them that I take my clothes off for money, even if there’s no touching involved.”
“Well, they won’t hear it from me, then,” You said. “Your secret is safe.”
“Thank you,” He said, smiling. He took your hand and led you out of the vacant building and toward the bus stop. There was a bus for larger non-humans that came twice a day.
“Have you told them much about me?” You asked, sitting on the bench to wait.
“I never shut up about you,” Henry said ruefully. “I’ve been talking about you for years, even before we met. I think they knew I was in love with you before I did. My sister literally told me to shut up once, because I kept gushing about you.”
“That’s sweet,” You said.
“You don’t talk to your folks much, do you?” He asked.
“Not really,” You replied, sitting at the bus stop with him sidling up to coil next to you. “Lots of stuff went down when I left that my parents weren’t cool with, and they said a lot of things that I wasn’t cool with, so we’re just not cool with each other in general.”
“Hmm,” He said. “Well, my sister will like you.” His eyes narrowed. “That may not be a good thing. She keeps trying to steal my girlfriends.”
You laughed. “Well, she doesn’t have a chance. I’m over the moon for you.”
He grinned at you. “That’s good to hear.” He lay his head on your shoulder briefly. “I’m madly in love with you.”
“Yay,” You said softly, kissing the top of his head, careful not to stab yourself on his horns.
“Can we go home and have celebratory sex?” He asked.
“Absolutely. Then we’ll order dinner and play a round of Final Fantasy XIV.”
“It’s a date. I do have a cam session later tonight, though, so I have factor that in.”
“Oh, if that’s the case, we should wait on the sex,” You said, looking down the street and seeing the bus approach. You stood up. “You should be fresh for your clients. We can have all the boning we want afterward. Anything fancy planned?”
“Nope, just a show and share, standard stuff. But it’s a new client, so that’s typical. ”
“Have you dropped a client? You usually don’t take new ones unless one either stops buying slots or you ban someone.”
“One of my old patrons moved on, so I held an auction for his slots. The money from that auction was the final monetary push I needed for the new location,” He said, following you to the curb as the bus stopped in front of you.
“Well, thank you to that person,” You said with a laugh, getting up into the bus. Henry followed you.
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After getting home, the two of you ordered some sushi and played video games. Around eight o’clock, he set the controller down.
“Time for the session?” You asked, powering down the game console.
“It will be soon. I need to get ready. Want to help out?”
“Always. That new purple bolero would look lovely, and we can put some spray glitter in your hair.”
“That shit takes forever to get out!” He whined.
“Yeah, but it looks so cute! And I’ll help you wash it out later.”
“Promise?”
“Yes, I promise,” You said. “Come on, I’ll get you all dressed up and looking pretty for your new client.”
“You’re the best, babe.”                 
You had gotten pretty adept at getting him ready for his shows quickly, and honestly it was a great bonding moment between the two of you. He stayed still and obedient like a puppy while you were doing in and he always looked like a total snack when he was done. Not that he didn’t normally, but the costumes were a great garnish.
When you were finished, you kissed him, said, “Have fun,” And left him to his work.
He’d moved his camming desk and rig to the bedroom so that the two of you could set up his and hers gaming stations in his old office, where the two of you spent a lot of time.
You’d just sat down to play some Among Us with friends when you realized that you’d left your phone in the bedroom. You swore at yourself for being so thoughtless. The number one rule was never interrupt a camming session, it could cost him clients if they found out he had a girlfriend. Some might even want you to participate, and that was not something you were up for.
But you also didn’t want your phone to ring while he was in a video chat. You were usually so careful, so this made you really mad at yourself. Henry couldn’t afford to lose customers right now, with opening the new location. He’d need every penny he could earn.
You knew he kept his Discord up when he was working, in case any emergencies arose and you could notify him, so you pulled it up and typed, >I forgot my phone in the bedroom. Can I come get it?
He typed back, >Sure, just try to be quiet, please.
You tip-toed to the bedroom and pushed the door open gingerly. Henry was talking to his new client playfully. He flicked his eyes over to you and gave you a quick wink before returning his attention to the screen.
Henry’s desk was circular and facing inward toward the wall, so there was be a solid background rather than showing his clients your bedroom. Your phone was on the nightstand next to the bed-nest, out of frame.
“So, tell me a little about yourself, sweetheart,” He said sultrily. “What do you like? What do you like having done to you?” Henry was wearing an earpiece through which the client responded. This prevented you from having to listen and the client from hearing you rattling around in the apartment. “Mmm, that sounds fun. You want to show me, or would you like me to show you first?”
You stealthed across the room and picked up your phone, turning it to silent. When you turned back around, Henry had removed the bolero jacket and was touching his chest suggestively and biting his lip.
“You look so pretty when you do that,” He said with a low-pitched growl in his voice.
Watching him in his element was… kinda hot. Instead of leaving, you sat down quietly on the bed-nest and watched him. He flicked his eyes over to you again for a millisecond, and you heard him typing.
>What are you doing?
>Admiring you. You responded. >You look so sexy.
>You’re breaking the rule.
>Then tell me to leave.
You could tell he was suppressing a smirk, but he didn’t tell you to leave.
>Just be as quiet as possible and you can stay, just this once, He texted you.
>Promise.
He continued the session with you reclining in the nest, watching him work. Normally in the first session with a new client, he didn’t go all the way, so to speak. It was more of a peep show and less of a full service. Usually it was a strip tease and some light touching to entice them to continue their subscription.
The way he was putting on a show for the camera, the exaggerated movements, the low, husky voice, the touching, the sly smirk on his lips, did things to your body. You squeezed your legs together and squirmed slightly, but he didn’t notice.
How much would he let you get away with, you wondered? Slowly, you let your hand slip into the sleep shorts you were wearing, spreading your legs a little.
This time he noticed. A minuscule flick of his eyes made them widen slightly, and he turned back to the keyboard while still engaging with the client.
>Stay quiet, He said. >Don’t make a sound.
He lowered his lashes and took a covert look at you, and you nodded.
He continued with his flirty introduction and laid the flattery on thick to the client, while every once in a while stealing a glance at you. You rocked your pelvis against your hand, massaging your pearl and biting your wrist to keep silent, all while watching him. You saw him pull his tail around under the desk and began stroking his slit in circles, the heads of his dual cocks just starting to peek out.
Just as you were getting to your first orgasm, Henry said, “Well, darling, our time is up. I hope I’ll see you again. I had a wonderful time with you.” He dipped his head down and looked up through his eyelashes, pouting slightly. “Come back soon. Until then, you take care, okay darling? Good night and sweet dreams.”
You came hard, gripping the sheets in one hand as you struggled to stay quiet. Henry exited out of the video chat, tore his earpiece off and threw it onto the desk, and darted toward you, pulling your hand out of your shorts and over your head.
“You…” He said with a dark, gruff tone. “You have been very… very… bad.”
This was a new side to sweet, cuddly Henry. “And what will you do?” You taunted, feeling a little thrill up your spine.
Without warning, he flipped you onto your stomach and snatched your shorts and underwear off. He pushed himself into you, not in a way that hurt, but definitely hard and unceremonious. Since you had climaxed already and were a bit sensitive, it was almost sensory overload, but it was so good, and you gave yourself over to it.
He took both of your hands and held them behind your back with only one of his while he used the other to grip your hip to pull you harder against him.
“Don’t be quiet now,” He growled at you. “Make noise. Moan for me, scream for me, let me hear your voice.”
You were happy to obey, being a little louder than you normally were. You grunted and groaned as he pounded into you roughly, a way he’d never been with you before. He was always gentle and affectionate, and you loved it, but this was on another level. It was hot and passionate and wild, and you were enthralled. You loved Sweet Henry, but Feral Henry was incredible.
Henry came violently against you, growling, and withdrew, thrusting the second cock into you and going full-throttle again. You were used to Henry’s stamina by now, so you could hang with it. Another burst of pleasure crashed into your body, and you screamed his name.
“That’s a good girl,” He snarled into your ear.
A third orgasm, and then a fourth, and by the fifth, you were getting tired. He released one last shot inside you and let you go, collapsing next to you in the nest. You lay face down and gasped.
After a moment or two, he got up on his elbow and stroked your back.
“Are you okay? Do you need some water? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” He asked softly.
Ah. Sweet Henry was back. You loved Sweet Henry. He was the best.
“No, I’m okay, babe,” You turned your head to look at him. “What was that? You’ve never been like that with me before.”
“I don’t know,” He said, looking a little shocked at himself. “I’ve never been like that with anyone before. Was it bad?”
“No, on the contrary, it was amazing,” You replied, turning on your side to face him. “I was just playing with you, I didn’t know I’d bring that out.”
“Me neither,” He said ruefully, laughing self-consciously and scratching the back of his head. “You’re sure I didn’t hurt you?”
“I’d have said so if you did, you know that,” You said, reaching up to stroke his face. “I won’t sit in on sessions again, I know it’s bad for business. But… maybe we could roleplay Feral Henry one night. That was fun.”
He grinned wickedly at you, kissing the inside of your hand. “I look forward to it.”
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That Sunday, the two of you took a trip across town to see his family. Despite living in the same city, you hadn’t actually met them yet. They traveled often for work, as they owned an advertising company and worked with businesses across the country. Their daughter, Henry’s older sister, was their secretary and did most of their scheduling.
Henry didn’t want to be an executive with the company and preferred to stand on his own two feet… so to speak. Thankfully, his family was understanding and didn’t object when he decided to follow his dreams instead of staying with the family business. After all, the advertisement company had been his parents’ dream.
You and Henry took a large-race cab service out to the richer end of the city, where his parents lived. They’re house had been built with nagas specifically in mind, so it had been built all on the ground level, but it was huge. There were at least six bedrooms, as far as you could tell.
Henry’s parents, Ruth and Richard, met you at the door. Ruth’s scales were a solid bright blue from waist to tail. Her skin was a burnished bronze and her eyes were gold in color. She had a long, lovely set of wings in blues and gold. She wore a long halter top in a deep brown that matched her tumbling hair and complemented her skin tone.
Richard, on the other hand, did not have wings and as such, wore a simple button up shirt. He was grey in color, both scales and skin, with black rings along his tail and grey horns jutting up from the top of his head out of his pitch black hair.
Naga women didn’t have mammary glands, since their diet at birth was strictly meat, transitioning to other foods as they aged, so nagas often didn’t feel the need to wear clothing. Henry didn’t typically wear clothing unless he was camming or in the shop, in which he wore a basic white t-shirt specially made with a panel in the back to accommodate his wings. Sometimes an apron, if he was feeling fancy. Otherwise, he went without clothes. Today, he went super posh with a blue t-shirt, since this was a special occasion and everything.
“Henry!” Ruth said, rushing out to meet her son. “You look so handsome!” She hugged her son tightly, their wings touching lightly. “And is this your girlfriend? She’s so lovely! Come and give me a hug, sweetie!”  
You walked into her muscular arms and she gave you a warm, motherly hug that felt really nice. Since you weren’t speaking to your own family, this was a type of touch you really missed.
“It’s so nice to meet you!” You said as you stepped away. “Henry has told me all about you.”
“Likewise!” She said, cupping your face. “Gosh, he’s talked about nothing else besides you for years!”
“Honey, don’t embarrass our son,” Richard said, coming out to shake your hand. “It is lovely to meet you at last.”
“You too, sir,” You replied.
“Oh, please, call me Richard. Come in, come in, dinner is almost ready,” He said, putting a hand behind your back, stopping just short of touching you, and ushered you inside.
You could smell a savory smell that made your mouth water as soon as you came inside. You followed Richard into the kitchen, where there was a large, high bar in place of a dinner table and a single barstool.
“We actually had to buy a chair!” Ruth said. “That was exciting. We did measurements and everything.”
Her excitement made you smile wide and feel a little shy. Henry grinned down at you and took your hand, leading you forward toward the barstool. You sat down and looked around the enormous, beautiful kitchen.
“Is she here yet?” A voice from the doorway said. Henry’s sister, Rea, entered unclothed, looking much like her brother but having her mother’s coloring.
“Rea, put on a shirt! We have company!” Ruth said.
“No, really, it’s okay, I’m used to Henry not wearing clothes, so it’s totally fine.” You hopped off the chair and went over to greet her and introduced yourself.
“I’m Rea, it’s great to meet you.” She looked you up and down. “You weren’t lying, Henry, she’s as hot as you described her.”
“Hey,” Henry said warningly, coming up behind you and hugging you close to his chest. “She’s taken.”
“For now,” Rea said to her brother, smiling slyly. He growled.
“Don’t fight,” Ruth said. “Come now, dinner is ready.”
Henry helped you pop back up on the stool and the naga family simply sat back on their tails. Dinner was rare steak and garden vegetables tossed in a homemade dressing and a dry white wine.
“Are you both amphiptere?” You asked Ruth and Richard.
“Yes,” Richard said. “But it’s less likely for the males to have wings than the females. Even among our own kind, Henry is rare.”
“Aww,” You said, patting his cheek. “That doesn’t surprise me one little bit. He’s special.”
“In the head, maybe,” Rea said, shoving a large piece of steak in her mouth. Henry shot her a dry look, but his mouth was too full to retort.
“Well, I’m glad he finally found someone who understands and appreciates his value,” Ruth said. “We were beginning to think he’d never get married.”
Henry choked on his wine, spitting it across the table. His parents and sister had to shield their plates.
“Mom, we’ve only been dating for a few months, it’s too early to be talking about marriage.”
“Oh, please, it’s inevitable, you’ve been in love with her for years!”
“Yes, but she wasn’t aware of that until recently!” He responded. “This is all new for her.”
“But you love her, right?”
“Mom, for the love of God,” Henry groaned, massaging his temples. “Yes, I love her, but it’s still basically the beginning of our relationship. You’re going to scare her off.”
“Well, what do you think?” Ruth asked, turning to you. “You’d marry him, wouldn’t you?”
You opened your mouth, taken aback.“I…”
“You don’t need to answer that,” Henry said. “Mom, really, don’t make her feel uncomfortable. Neither of us are thinking about marriage right now. Can we please talk about something else?”
“Mom, really, leave Henry alone,” Rea said.
“Alright, alright, I’m just saying--”
“Honey,” Richard said stiffly. “Please.”
Ruth sniffed and sighed, but fell silent. What followed was a rather awkward dinner.
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As the two of you were leaving, Ruth apologized for being so pushy, having thought about her words over the strained silence. You told her it was okay, and that you were looking forward to seeing them again.
Back on the taxi heading toward town, you started thinking about it. Did he really not think about getting married one day? You were kind of hoping that eventually you would. Not soon, but eventually.
“Don’t worry about my mom,” Henry said, taking your hand. “She has that mom habit of not knowing when to stop.”
“No, it’s totally fine, she just caught me off guard, is all,” You replied.
“You sure you’re okay?” He asked, tilting his head down a bit to look at your face. “You seem bothered by something.”
“It’s just…” You tried to think of a way to phrase it that wouldn’t spook him but failed. “No, it’s nothing really.”
“No, no,” He said, bumping your shoulder with his lightly. “Come on, I know there’s something on your mind. I’m your best friend, right? You can tell me anything.”
You sighed. “Are you really not thinking about marriage at all? I don’t mean right now or anything, but like in the future? Maybe a few years from now?”
“Well…,” He began, his brow furrowing. “I mean, yeah, of course I am. I’ve been thinking about marrying you since before we ever met. But our relationship is new and I didn’t want to put that kind of pressure on you. And we’re opening a new shop! Who knows how long it’ll be before the chaos of that subsides long enough for us to even begin to plan a wedding? It could genuinely be years.”
“So… it’s a possibility, then?”
“More than a possibility, I’d say,” He said with a gentle smile. “But we need time to feel this out. Just because we love each other is no reason to rush into something we aren’t necessarily prepared for, you know? Marriage is… a lot.”
You nodded. “Yeah. And I agree with you, but I was just worried that you weren’t even considering it.”
“Well, don’t worry. It’s definitely on my mind.”
“Good.” You laid your head on his shoulder, linking your arm with his. “Do we still have ice cream at home?”
“Nope, I ate it earlier.”
“Boo, you suck.”
He chuckled. “We’ll stop at the store on the way home. Mint chocolate chip and some cookies?”
“You know me so well.” You raise your head and puckered your lips, and he bent down to kiss you.
“I do think that before we start talking seriously about marriage or anything like that, I want to stop camming.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well, when I got into it, I never intended to be a career, it was just a side job to help me pay bills. It’s fun and I like it, but I don’t want to do it forever. There is a risk to it, and I worry that you might be affected by it, and I don’t want that.”
“Risk?”
“Yeah. In fact, I think I’m going to end the camming early this year. I’m booked through the month, but I think I’ll make a post tonight saying that I’m going offline for the season. We’re going to be run ragged getting the new place set up. Some people will be upset about it, but they can deal with it.”
“People will be mad?” You asked. The taxi stopped and he took your hand, escorting you out and down the sidewalk toward the small store near your home.
“Yeah,” He said. “A lot of people get that I have a normal life outside of my side job, but some people can be obsessive. Usually, they just wait until next season opens up and book all of my openings they can afford, but some get personal. I block the ones that are too aggressive or start trying to get too close.”
“Too close?”
“Trying to find out who I am and where I live,” He replied.
“That happens?” You asked, alarmed.
“It’s only happened twice. One of them got the hint when I got angry and I didn’t hear from them again. The second one I had to call the police on. I still have a restraining order out against her.”
“Jesus,” You responded. “I didn’t realize it was so… dangerous.”
“It usually isn’t,” He said off-handedly. “That’s the beauty of anonymity and the internet. But I am a rare breed, so it’s easy for people to match my face in real life if they really dig. I mean, you did, right? I have a VPN and pretty hardcore protections on my computer that prevent hacking it remotely, but people can be persistent.”
“That’s… scary,” You said, frowning.
“Don’t worry,” He said, flexing his arms and stomach muscles. “I can handle just about anything.”
“Just about,” You echoed under your breath, and followed him into the store.
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My Masterlist
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tulipjeanohare · 3 years
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PAIRING: EZ Reyes x OC (Sloane)
NOTES: I wrote this during Season 2 and just never shared it but I’ve been wanting to get back into writing. SO, I hope you guys enjoy and I’d love feedback!
WARNING: Mature Themes.
Credit to the person who made the gif @shadesalvarez
WORD COUNT: 6, 370
It was another typical Friday night at the bar; the place was packed wall to wall, a new band was perched on the stage performing a set list of songs she’d never remember, and the regular unfavorable drunks were crowding the bar top. Just another weekend wasted working behind the bar when she’d much rather be somewhere else doing just about anything other than this. The bar wasn’t that bad, really. But it wasn’t what she wanted. It paid the bills and that was all that mattered to her as a single mother.
There was never time for men and she was fine with that. Her son didn’t need any other men dropping in and out of his life. That much she were sure of. So she lived the monotonous life that she had grown accustomed to the last few years. During the week she worked at a local art museum in an attempt to keep her passion for art alive while she couldn’t afford to actually make any then the weekend came and she spent her nights slinging drinks for every lowlife that decided to slither into the dimly lit hole in the wall bar off the highway.
It wasn’t as bad as it seemed, she had regulars that she loved seeing and for the most part everyone kept their hands to themselves and tipped rather well. The whole single mother thing did work to her advantage from time to time. But every now and then some idiot would come in trying to impress whatever frat friends he had drug along with him and made a pass at her. She could normally handle herself pretty well but when they got too aggressive she defaulted to the gruff, muscular man they’d hired to work security.
Tonight was no exception to any of this.
Earlier in the evening she had dropped her son off at her friend’s house and gave him an extra long hug. Promised him she’d see him bright and early in the morning and she was off. It never got any easier to leave him; he was four now and was the smartest kid she’d ever met, she might be a little biased but it was true. Those big brown eyes of his melted her heart every time he gave her the same sad puppy dog face before she left. She knew he was fine there. He loved her friend, she was like family to the both of them. But she still hated to leave him to go deal with a bunch of overly macho men for hours on end.
By the time she got to the bar the place was already crowded and the band had already started to play. As quickly as she could she made her way behind the bar and dumped her bag and jacket in the backroom before making her way to her first customer of the night.
-------------
EZ had taken off from the clubhouse almost two hours ago without a plan in his mind of exactly where he was going. All he knew was that he needed some space. He needed to forget the life he’d chosen for just a few hours and pretend he wasn’t the man he’d become. The loud engine of the motorcycle roared in his ears as he passed a big black sign reading ‘Big Al’s Roadside Bar, Next Exit’.
That’ll have to do, he thought to himself.
When he pulled into the gravel lot in front of the building there wasn’t a single motorcycle in sight and he felt a weight lift from his shoulders he didn’t know had been there. Before he headed inside he took off the leather cut with his name stitched on one side and shoved it into the bag on the side of his bike. There was no reason for anyone here to know who he was or that he ran with any club.
His watch read half past eleven when he entered the door. Enough time for him to have a couple drinks and maybe make his way to that motel he'd noticed just up the road. The place was loud and the people were crowded inside like a can of sardines so he figured his best bet would be to make himself at home up at the bar, hide himself in the corner there and get a little drunk.
Once he reached the bar though he was a little more than surprised to see such a beautiful woman behind it. All the bars in Santo Padre either had weathered old ladies behind them or former inmates he’d probably seen in passing during his time inside. The woman behind this bar was far more beautiful than anyone he’d seen back home in a long time. She had thick mess of black hair that fell well past her shoulders, he watched as she pulled it back into a bun at the nape of her neck.
She looked real. Not like the girls who hung around the clubhouse in hopes of becoming someone’s old lady. Her face was bare except for the gloss that created a sheen on her plump lips. Lips he’d pay good money to kiss. The black jeans she had on hugged her every curve so tightly he couldn’t help but stare when she turned to hand another bar patron their drink. The T-shirt she wore had the Virgin Mary printed on the front, exactly like the statue that sat inside the clubhouse in Santo Padre, but he was sure if wasnt some funny pun for her because he’d noticed the delicate cross necklace hanging around her neck. One arm had a smattering of tattoos he couldn’t quite make out while the other seemed bare.
It hadn’t occurred to him that he’d been staring at her until she turned to him, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face before leaning her palms against the bar top, “you wanna order something or are you just gonna stare at me all night?”
“Shit, sorry,” he quickly answered.
A laugh fell from her lips, a laugh that rang over the music. It was sweet and soft, no malice behind it. It made EZ’s shoulders relax a little. “S’ok...not the worst anyone has ever done in this bar. Long day?”
“You could say that,” EZ replied.
Without a word she nodded, reached under the bar for a cold beer and popped the top off before sliding it across the table to him. “Nothing an ice cold beer can’t help, right?”
“Amen,” he smiled, reaching in his pocket for some cash.
Before taking it the bartender eyed it for a second, “you wanna just open a tab?”
“Nah, I’ll take it one beer at a time,” he assured her.
-------------
The rest of the night went off as usual; the same guys sidled up to the bar to grab her attention for a few quick moments before another pushed his way up to her. But there was one thing that was different tonight. The guy at the end of the bar.
He wasn’t like the others. His eyes were kind and he spoke with more eloquence than any man she’d met in her entire life had. He was polite and quiet, a god send on a night like tonight. So she spent a little more time at his end of the bar than any other. Any time he would finish a beer she was sure to be right there with a fresh one and he would hand her another handful of bills.
One beer at a time.
Things were beginning to quiet down at one when it happened.
She was wiping down the bar top at the other end of the bar when a new guy took a seat. He leaned over a little too close for comfort when she asked him what he wanted. Then when she handed him the class of brown liquor he’d asked for he grabbed her hand in his, which she quickly shook herself free of.
EZ took notice of the interaction. He’d been nursing another beer, trying to decide if it was time for him to head to that motel when he saw the guy grab hold of her hand. He felt himself begin to react before she shook her arm free, scowling at the guy before walking back down towards him.
“You alright,” he asked, his voice low so only she could hear.
A smile crept across her lips as she nodded, letting her elbows rest on the wood top while she leaned over it. “I get five of those guys a night...that’s nothing. I appreciate your concern though...I never got your name.”
“EZ,” he smiled, those pearly white teeth of his on full display.
Standing there across the bar from him, a mere few inches from him, she felt like her heart skipped a beat. There’s got to be a catch here, she thought to herself. “EZ? Interesting,” she smiled, holding her hand out for him. “I’m Sloane, nice to officially meet you.”
When he took her hand in his she could feel the slight blush creeping up her cheeks. She hoped to god he couldn’t see it in the dim lighting in the bar. But the rough, calloused feeling of his palm against hers felt nice. A sign of a real man.
And EZ got a rush of electricity through him as he held her hand in his. He could smell her perfume wafting in front of him when she leaned in closer to him. It was like a field of fresh flowers on a breezy day. “That’s a nice name, it suits you,” EZ said softly.
Before either of them could say anything else someone at the other end of the bar was shouting for her. Quickly she gave him an apologetic look before making her way to the person.
Once again EZ was tempted to watch her; the way she moved was so easy, like she was doing a dance every time she’d spin around to grab a bottle of liquor or reach one way or the other for a glass. The same piece of hair kept falling in her face until she finally pulled the hair tie from her hair and let it fall at her shoulders. Somehow it made her even more beautiful to him. The dark mess of hair she’d had pulled back before now framed her face. Every now and then she’d tuck a piece behind her ear before it fell again.
The way he was feeling towards this new stranger in front of him was different. It had been a long time since he’d felt any sort of way about a woman. His mind had been stuck on one in particular and it was becoming more and more evident that nothing was ever going to happen with them again.
She wasn’t Emily but deep down he felt like she might be better than Emily.
Just as he was getting lost in his thoughts he noticed the same guy from before giving her a hard time. But this time he had a hold of her forearm, hard enough that her skin was white where his hand held to her. He gave her a few seconds, waiting for her to pull free of him again or for the bouncer to jump in but nothing like that happened. The guy kept holding onto her and she was getting more and more agitated as the interaction went on.
“Let go of me right now,” she all but shouted at the guy.
He rolled his eyes, leaning in closer to her, “oh come on, stop playing hard to get and just let me take you home.”
Before she was able to get another word out EZ had his hand on the guys arm and was almost chest to chest with him. “Let her go before I make you,” he said, his already deep voice seeming to drop another octave.
Now it was a tangle of arms in the middle of them. EZ holding tightly to his while the guy still kept his hold on Sloane. And the next thing she knew the drunk guy was headbutting EZ and lunging towards him. With her arm now free her eyes darted around the room in search of her back up, the guy that was generally posted up at the end of the bar to keep his eye on her was nowhere to be found. All she could do now was hope it didn’t get too out of hand.
EZ took a quick swing at the guy and landed his fist right on his chin, knocking the guy back a couple steps. But that didn’t stop him from going at her new friend again; swinging with all his might in hopes of landing something. It was clear to Sloane that this wasn’t EZ’s first fight, he knew what he was doing but the other guy was way in over his head with too much testosterone and alcohol running through him to tell him to stop while he was ahead.
A few more punches had the guys lip bleeding and his already wobbly footing worse. By that time the bouncer had made his way back to the bar and quickly grabbed hold of the swinging drunk and started to cart him out of the bar. He turned to yell at the other man that he’d be back for him but she stopped him, “let him be, he was just stepping in to stop that guy. He’s fine.”
The bouncer glanced from his bartender then to the muscular man standing just a few feet from him, not a single bead of sweat on him. All he could do was nod and continue kicking the other man out of the place.
“You really didn’t have to do that,” Sloane shook her head, trying to conceal the smile attempting to break across her face.
As much as she hated having anyone thinking they needed to defend her honor she had to admit that it was really hot seeing him land that punch. And his body hadn’t looked bad doing so either.
She pulled another bottle of beer from the ice and handed it to him, “this one's on me, as a thank you.”
“You don’t have to,” he started.
Shaking her head she pushed the money he’d started to hand to her back his way, “I’m not taking no for an answer.”
-------------
The band had long since vacated the stage and people were filing out of the bar by the time EZ had decided it was time to leave. Sloane had been a breath of fresh air for him and he didn’t want to have to head out any sooner than he had to. But he figured she wanted to get the place cleaned and clock out so he’d dropped some cash on the bar top for a tip and started for the door. But soon he heard her familiar voice call out to him.
“Hey,” she shouted, her voice carrying over the soft music playing from above. “How do you feel about a couple drinks...back at my place?”
EZ wasn’t sure he heard her right. Sure, she’d given him a little more attention than any of the other bar goers tonight but he hadn’t even for a second thought she’d ask him back to her place. The room felt a lot quieter as he stumbled with his words, completely caught off guard. “Uh, yeah, yeah...that actually sounds great.”
“Give me ten minutes,” she replied before bouncing off to wipe down the tables scattered around.
-------------
The two of them fell into an easy rhythm on the drive to Sloane’s place, both of them eager to hear the other’s voice no matter what they were saying. Every now and then she’d catch his gaze lingering a little longer than he’d intended for her to see and it gave her those familiar butterflies from earlier in the night. She was having an internal battle with herself though; this is so stupid...what do you thinks going to come of this, she’d hear the voice in her head ask. But she didn’t care. It had been years since she’d had any kind of relationship with a man, one night would be good for her.
So, a fifteen minute drive later and they were pulling up to the front of her apartment building and he was following her closely up the stairs. To be fair he wanted to press her up against her door the minute they hit it but he restrained himself, he wanted to let the night last as long as possible. He was enjoying himself. Enjoying not thinking about his life back home.
“Place might be a little messy,” she told him, kicking her shoes to the side as soon as she stepped inside with EZ following suit.
While she busied herself in the kitchen searching for the liquor EZ wandered around the living room, taking everything in. The place was immaculate except for a few toys strewn about on the floor; a small blue blanket with cars all over it tossed over the side of the couch hastily, a tiny plastic easel in the corner with a freshly done finger painting clipped to it. Next to it was a larger one with the beginnings of an incredible, vibrantly colored painting.
“You have a son,” he asked, his voice carrying to Sloane in the kitchen as she grabbed a couple glasses.
Biting her lip she nodded, placing the glasses on the coffee table in front of the couch before making eye contact with him. “Yeah, he’s the one guy in my life,” she beamed. “Just turned four last month, he stays with my best friend while I work at the bar on the weekend. Is it weird?”
“Nah, I love kids,” EZ smiled. “Dad in the picture?”
Sloane shook her head, pouring some of the brown liquor into the glasses. “No, it’s probably for the best anyways. We make a pretty good little duo. What about you?”
“Just me,” he said, wincing a little as the hard liquor stung the back of his throat. “Pretty close with my pops...and my brother.”
It was tempting for her to question the little pause he made before he mentioned his brother but she didn’t think it was any of her business having only just met him a few hours ago. She felt so at ease with him though she almost asked, it was on the tip of her tongue to say something but she held back. The smile that lingered at the corner of his lips told her there was good there.
The two of them sat side by side on the floor in front of the couch; the coffee table pushed out a little to give them more room, their bodies turned towards each other so they could talk, the brown liquor getting less and less in the bottle. There had been a handful of moments where EZ had wanted make a move. To rest his hand on her thigh or tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear before leaning in for a kiss. But he wanted to hear more about her and her life and everything about her.
He was enthralled.
And so was she.
She could see the kindness in his eyes. Past the bruise under his left eye and the cut on his cheek there was more to him. When they had left the bar she’d noticed the motorcycle and wanted to ask him about it but she decided not to. There was probably something there she wouldn’t like and tonight she just wanted to have fun. Every time he made even the slightest move the veins in his forearms shifted just the slightest bit and it made her think of how it would feel to have those arms wrapped around her body. Then he’d speak and she was enticed by the deepness to his voice, the diction in the wash he spoke was nothing like she’d heard around there before. The guys there wouldn’t know how to string an intelligible sentence together if their lives depended on it.
EZ was different.
-------------
Sloane rested her head on the chest of the new man in her bed. One arm of his slung around her waist while his hand gently stroked her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. She let her hand rest on his abdomen before she let her fingers trace lines down the center of his stomach. He was all muscle and she could feel it while he was on top of her, the way his body weighted over her as they moved in rhythm together.
The room was silent except for the heaviness of their breathing. EZ felt chills run up his spine the way she tucked her leg over his bare thigh while they laid there. Her soft skin felt like silk against his and he wanted to stay like this for as long as possible. If he closed his eyes long enough he could still see her silhouette above him in the dark room. He could envision the way her hips moved back and forth as she rode him. His fingers holding tightly to her hips until he finally pulled her down close to him so he could nip and kiss at her skin.
For a second he leaned down and pressed a kiss into the crown of her hair, a simple gesture that spoke volumes, before he spoke. “Ezekial,” he said quietly.
“Huh,” she questioned, turning so she could rest her chin on his chest.
The outline of his face just visible in the moonlight pouring in through the closed blinds. “That’s my name. My full name. Ezekial.”
“I like that,” a smile spread across her face and she wasn’t sure why. She turned her face to nuzzle her nose against his bare shoulder before peppering his skin with a few quick kisses. “Ezekial.”
EZ loved the way his name sounded coming off her lips. The raspiness in her voice and the way he could almost hear her smile as she said it. He’d heard it countless times before but it felt special when she said it.
After a few more silent minutes she got up to use the bathroom and he leaned over to grab his boxers, sliding them on before he turned the bedside lamp on. The bathroom door was left open a crack and he could just barely see her naked frame moving in front of the mirror before she pulled his shirt on over her head. His eyes wandered down her body as she walked back into the bedroom, the shirt of his clinging to her curves and just stopping below her ass.
“You’re incredible,” he grinned, reaching his hand out to her as she moved to the side of the bed.
She couldn’t help but smile back at him. Not because of the compliment but because of the way his face lit up as he said it. The laugh lines next to his eyes crinkled as his smile widened and it made his deep brown eyes even more endearing than they already were.
Thoughtlessly she let him take her hand in his and pull her down onto him on the bed. Her legs rested on either side of him as he let her sit in his lap, his hands resting at the small of her back. If he had it his way this night wouldn’t ever end. He hadn’t thought about the club or his brother or Emily all night and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
“Where’d they make you,” she asked with a hint of a laugh in her voice. “You’re...different. Good different.”
He didn’t answer her with words. He simply just wrapped his arms tighter around her and pulled her into his chest before he pressed his lips against hers once more. There wasn’t any hesitation there; her lips parted to allow his tongue to slide across her bottom lip before they let themselves get lost in the kiss. Sloane’s mind wandered back to earlier in the night after they’d finished their whiskey and their bodies had somehow moved closer and closer to one another where they sat. She could see his eyes move to her lips every now and then while they talked and she wanted to beg him to kiss her about a hundred times before he actually did.
And once he finally did they were quickly moving to the bedroom. Her bedroom she hadn’t shared with anyone but her son in a very, very long time. They’d stumbled down the hallway attached at the lips before he finally grabbed ahold of her and pressed her up against the wall. Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as they both yearned to be closer to each other.
“Is this okay,” EZ had asked, his lips trailing down her neck while his hands held tightly to her back side.
It had made her smile; it had been a very long time since any man had ever asked her permission for anything let alone this. So she had placed her hands on either side of his face and pulled his attention back to her face before speaking. All she said was a breathless yes before they stumbled their way to the bedroom.
By the time Sloane was able to pull herself back to reality, back from her thoughts Ezekiel had flipped her onto her back and was pushing his shirt up over her chest to let his mouth wander over her breasts. A shiver shot through her at the feeling of his soft lips kissing and sucking at her skin. She let her fingers run over the smooth buzzcut of his as he traveled farther and farther down her body until she could feel his warm breath between her thighs.
Before they had both been so hungry for each other all they wanted to do was get off and quickly. But now they wanted to take their time. EZ wanted to explore her body; he wanted to hear the way she’d moan the first time she felt his tongue on her, he wanted to know how it felt to have her body wrapped around his while they made love. Sloane wanted to hear his gruff voice whispering to her while he was inside her, to feel the weight of his strong body on top of hers once more.
The room had fallen silent except for the sound of the shaky breaths she was taking as he gave his full attention to her core. His tongue lapped at her lips teasingly before she felt his teeth graze the sensitive little nub tucked inside. A whiney moan escaped her, her back arching at the new sensation. His hands held tightly to her thighs with his face buried between them for what felt like an eternity and by the time he pulled back her entire body was shaking on the edge of an intense orgasm.
“Ezekiel...please,” she almost pleaded with him.
A smile curled at the corners of his mouth before he peppered the inside of her thigh with kisses, “be patient, baby.”
And she tried to stop herself from letting out the sound that came next but she couldn’t help herself. The moan was throaty and full of lust, her lips parted perfectly and bright cherry red from how she’d been biting on the bottom lip. Hearing him call her baby was more than enough to encourage her to hold off for him. If she was honest she’d do just about anything for him right now.
Once more his lips trailed her skin but this time he was heading upwards, leaving the spot between her legs he’d made himself at home at and making his way to her breasts. The pink colored skin of her nipples was pebbled and hard from just the light nibbles he was giving her skin. But he hadn’t forgotten about her needs; while his mouth made quick work of her nipples he let one hand slip between her thighs and slipped two fingers inside of her which elicited a sharp intake of breath from her.
Her body writhed underneath him in an attempt to hurry along her orgasm because she knew once she came like this he’d been inside of her. And her body felt like every inch of her was on fire the way he was working her core with just his fingers. The tips of his calloused fingers were gliding over her gspot repetitively while his thumb rubbed back and forth over her clit.
Just as her back began to arch off the sheets below her EZ moved his attention from her chest up to her neck and then let his lips rest against her earlobe before he spoke. “Can you come for me,” he whispered, his free hand caressing her side.
In her head she had a witty line to reply with but she couldn’t get it out. The wires were crossed because her body was in overdrive the way he was fucking his fingers into her. So she settled on a lot of eye contact and a quick, almost pleading, nod of the head.
“Good girl,” he cooed.
At that her legs began to shake and she let her nails dig into his bare back as she began to hit her climax. A few throaty moans broke the silence in the room before he pressed his lips to hers, letting his mouth swallow her audible pleasure as she came down.
For a few short moments the two of them laid there tangled together allowing each other to cool off. But she could feel how hard he was as his erection pressed into her hip. Without a word she slipped her hand between the two of them and slowly stroked him, his hips absentmindedly working in motion with her hand. “I need you,” she breathed, pressing her lips to his temple.
They both knew one of them should’ve reached for a condom. It wasn’t anything new to either of them to use protection but they couldn’t be bothered in this moment. Both of them ached to feel that closeness between the two of them again. They each wanted to feel the slow movements of the other while they were so intimately joined together. Before had been quick and sloppy. But this, this was going to be slow and needy for both of them.
They hadn’t spoken of it but they both knew the other needed this intimacy. He was looking to forget his life back home for a while and she was holding off on reality herself. She wanted to remember what it felt like to have a man’s gentle touch, to be with someone who wanted to be with her.
EZ lifted his head until their foreheads were resting against one another, his nose grazing the tip of hers as he repositioned himself between her legs. He pushed her legs wider with his muscular thighs, his cock grazed her lips for a second before he slowly slide inside of her.
In unison they both let out shaky moans; her hands gripped onto his biceps as he hovered above her, their faces still touching. His eyes studied her face for a few more moments before he began working his hips against hers. The soft sound of skin on skin filling the quiet bedroom. One hand of his slipped beneath her to grab hold of her backside while the other slide up her neck until it was placed just under her chin, the slightest amount of pressure applied.
“Ezekial,” she sighed, her lips curling into a smile at the feeling of his hand around her neck.
He had to clinch his jaw to keep his composure. Hearing his name fall from her lips like that, with the visual of his hand where it was placed was too much for him. And the way her body moved in rhythm with his as he fucked her slowly only made him more sensitive. To keep his mind occupied, to hold himself off as long as possible, he busied himself kissing up her jawine until he buried his face into the crook of her neck. The faint smell of her perfume lingered there.
Sloan let her eyes flutter closed as he allowed himself to rest on top of her, bringing them closer together as they fucked. One leg hooked behind him to keep them close while her hands held tightly to his broad back. His skin was soft to the touch and he smelled like sandalwood, she couldn’t imagine anyone like him ever being in jail but he’d divulged that to her earlier. If it had been anyone else she would’ve ended the night but not with EZ. No, for some reason even after he told her about his past she still felt safe with him.
“You feel so fucking good,” he finally spoke again.
She smiled against his ear, nibbling at the skin, before pressing him back from her and back onto the bed. For a split second he fell from her but she quickly straddled him and guided him back to her core. A shutter went through her at the way she stretched around him. “I could do this all night,” she finally replied, her breathing uneven.
That beautiful smile of his spread across his face and she couldn’t help but smile back. Even in the darkness of the bedroom she could still see how perfect it was, she could still map out the little creases at the side of his eyes that formed when he smiled.
Resting her hands on his chest she began to buck her hips back and forth quicker now. His hands found their way to her hips and held onto her as he watched her from below, his hips working up against her. Her eyes fluttered shut and her lips parted at the feeling of him slipping deeper inside of her. EZ’s eyes were fixated on the way her breasts bounced up and down with every movement either of them made.
The tattoos that littered her skin on display as she rode him and he wanted to kiss every last one, trace them with his fingertips while they laid naked together. He wanted to know about the little one that sat on her left hip all the way up to the lotus flower at the nape of her neck.
Soon he was pulled from his thoughts when he heard her call out his name once more. This time it was needy; her brow furrowed together as her body leaned down closer to his. Instinctively he placed his hand into her mess of hair and pulled her down even closer until they were chest to chest. Again their foreheads hovered close together as he began to take control.
It was her turn to watch him as he fucked up into her in an attempt to get them both off. Short, choked moans came from both of them as they got closer and closer. She could see the neediness behind those brown eyes of his. And she could feel it in the way he was holding onto her, his fingers digging into the skin of her ass.
Slipping a hand between them she began to work her clit in time with the way he was working into her and it made her breath catch in her throat. The sudden newness of the pressure against the bundle of nerves drove her closer to the edge. And he could feel it in the way she tightened around him so suddenly.
Again they locked eyes as he fucked into her a few more quick times before he felt her tighten against him. Her mouth fell open as she let out the most lust filled moan he’d ever heard. Which only egged him on more, thrusting into her at a punishing pace until he finally released inside of her. Her lips rested against his earlobe as she let out a few more soft, whiny moans while he slowly continued to work into her.
The two of them went at it like this for the next few hours until the sun began to creep into the room through the blinds. He held her close against his chest as they spoke in hushed tones as if someone could hear what they were saying. It took everything in him to finally make himself leave her. But he knew he needed to start home or else he’d have more missed phone calls on his cell.
She pulled the sheets up over chest while she watched him pull his jeans on and search for the shirt of his she’d pulled on earlier in the night. The way his muscles moved under his clothes only made her want to pull them off again but she knew he had to leave. He had a life somewhere else and she had a son she was missing more than she realized at that moment.
“Last night was,” EZ paused, trying to think of the right word to us.
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monsterywriting · 3 years
Text
Zhulgan (orc)
prologue | masterlist
wlw story
nsfw (minors dni)
word count: 10.3k
Despite the short detour being strictly business, you couldn’t help the excitement bubbling up within you at the prospect of getting to visit a market.
You had no money to your name to even enjoy it, and it wasn’t a true market like what you once imagined big city ones would be like - just a few rows of sparsely stocked stalls temporarily set up on the road near Avinca the caravan had passed a while back - but it was still a welcome reprieve from the long stretches of time spent staring out the back of a covered wagon and a chance to see other humans.
Your role was simple: accompany Zhulgan, Alkgan and Vulgud to the market, stand there and make the vendors feel slightly more comfortable to have orc raiders in their midst. The others would handle the rest.
Realistically, with the war affecting everyone, it was doubtful anyone would turn away their coin, but you still held an entire dialogue in your mind, arguing with an imaginary seller acting stubborn, the entire time you walked from the camp.
Indeed, when the four of you entered the market, there were some stares but if anyone had an objection to the orcs’ presence, they didn’t voice it. Still, your group was given a wide berth as you made your way through the aisles.
The others walked with purpose, leaving you to scurry behind them struggling to keep up. Eventually, they stopped at the small group of stalls selling meat. Alkgan motioned for you to follow him as he approached a stall with beef halves run by an old woman.
You hung back slightly, wanting to allow Alkgan to speak. All seemed to be going well, the woman apparently unbothered by an orc patronizing her stall, until Alkgan picked his choices and she gave him a price.
“15 gold for a half carcass?!” You said, louder and more indignantly than you intended, interrupting Alkgan from digging around his pocket for the gold.
“That’s the price,” the woman told you defensively, seemingly only just noticing you standing there for the first time at that moment and eyeing you up and down.
By that point, Zhulgan and Vulgud had wandered over to see what the commotion was. Rather than shrink away from all the eyes turning to you, however, you swallowed your nerves and stood straighter, “We’re traveling from the southern peninsula; we need supplies to make it to the western border.”
“I have to make a living, too, girl,” she huffed, crossing her arms.
You hesitated. You didn’t want to antagonize the woman further by pointing out that the price of meat hadn’t risen half as much a few years back when a drought killed half the herds, but you couldn’t afford to back down when you were already making a scene. This would require a more delicate approach.
“Please, grandmother-” you were taking a risky gambit, relying on the hope that the woman had any sort of maternal instinct for you to appeal to. For extra points, you switched to old Dumirian, crossing your fingers that your actual grandmother’s lessons paid off, “Our village was destroyed by soldiers. We’re a large caravan with many small children who need to eat… we can buy more, so you don’t have to carry too much home this evening, but we also need to buy other supplies for our journey.”
You put on your best pleading look, trying to appear pitiable without laying it on too thick. You hoped she wouldn’t think the orcs were there to be intimidating, but she seemed to ignore them as she stared long and hard at you.
“Fine,” she finally grunted, pointing at you, “For you, child. 40 gold for everything on the table.”
“Thank you,” you gasped, turning to Alkgan and the others to relay the deal you negotiated. It still seemed a steep price for you, growing up in the middle of cattle country, but the cost for each of the four came out to be significantly lower than what Alkgan had been about to pay for just one.
Zhulgan eventually nodded, giving the okay for Alkgan to pay the woman as she and Vulgud lifted the four half-carcasses from the table, one on each shoulder. It was almost two thousand pounds of meat, more than enough to last the caravan until the border. Still, you couldn’t help but wonder if you shouldn’t have butt in, your interactions to let the others handle everything clear - stressed to you before you even left the camp, in fact. You waved goodbye to the old woman, nervously trailing after the orcs, expecting to be reamed out for your impudence.
“Good job,” Zhulgan grunted once you caught up, shifting one of her two halves to glance down at you, her expression unreadable but the praise leaving you beaming with pride.
Getting your literal saviors a discount on some meat hardly seemed equivalent to all they’d done for you thus far, but it was the first time you felt you truly did something worthy of chipping off your debt.
The rest of the trip passed uneventfully. Vulgud haggled more successfully on his own than Alkgan had with a vendor for two steel bars and three iron ingots while you zoned out next to him. Zhulgan had surprisingly put you in charge of buying salts and spices to cure the meat with once you returned to camp. It was nerve-racking to say the least, going up to stalls alone with money that was not your own and the weight of three orc’s stares on your back.
You were drained by the time you returned to camp, doing your best to help Zhulgan and Vulgud keep the children from getting their little tusks into the meat before you could get it to the “kitchen”.
While the meat was being divided up into cuts, you wandered around camp, not having anything in particular to do in that moment as everyone waved you off for already doing your part in preparing dinner and not quite wanting to waste the afternoon with a nap.
As you passed Alkgan’s wagon, he popped his head out and called you over.
“Here,” he said, dropping a small pouch in your hands. At your confusion, he explained, “For the meat today. The difference in gold you got.”
“I can’t take this!” You exclaimed in disbelief, trying to get him to take the pouch back, “I was just doing what I promised!”
Alkgan shrugged, “If I remember correctly, you were told not to do anything. Besides, it’s Zhulgan’s decision, not mine. Also, you should be saving every coin you get for after you cross the orc lands.”
He had a point, but you still felt guilty taking the money. Finally, you gave up on trying to get Alkgan to take it back, tying the strings to your belt and folding your waistband over it. Resolving to return the money to Zhulgan directly later, you walked back to your wagon to wait for dinner to be ready.
“15 gold for this meat?!” Grace had huffed when Alkgan recounted the story later over dinner, displaying an even stronger vexation than what you had at the absurd price, “Gods have mercy this war has emboldened vultures!”
You snorted, hiding your smile with your plate but understanding her chagrin. The Cedars, despite their arboreal surname, were cattle people; Grace would know best the quality of meat you’d been sold, even if it had already been diced and cooked into a stew.
Across the fire, you noticed Zhulgan watching your group laughing together. Just as you were about to return your attention back to a question Rose asked, however, you realized something was amiss.
“Your bead is missing,” you called from across the fire, gesturing towards the right side of your head where the unfurling braid was mirrored on Zhulgan. It was the smallest one that she usually left hanging alone, the rest all tied back together like she usually did.
Zhulgan’s hand instantly flew up to the braid, confirming that the multi-colored bead was indeed gone. She looked around frantically, standing and twisting around to look at the ground behind her. There were murmurs from some of the orcs around the fire, but no one rose to help.
Only the humans leapt up, all of you knowing the pain of losing a piece of jewelry. Most walked around the fire and retraced Zhulgan’s steps back to her wagon. You, Mauve, Winnie and Rose got on your hands and knees and combed the surrounding grass in search of it.
“It must have fallen off in the market,” you told Zhulgan apologetically once you all reconvened by the fire, everyone’s searches turning up fruitless, “You’ll probably just have to get another one.”
Despite your proposition, Zhulgan didn’t look happy, snarling something in orcish and storming back to her wagon. Alkgan merely shook his head when you looked over at him for some explanation, everyone else slowly returning to their previous conversations.
There was obviously something unspoken going on, some significant piece of information that seemed to be common knowledge for the orcs but a mystery to you and the other humans.
“Can’t Zhulgan just wear a different one?” Winnie questioned once everyone was sat back down, the mood slowly picking back up around you.
“No. That bead was given to her,” Alkgan replied, failing to elaborate further.
“Well, can’t you give her a new one?” You pressed, trying to get some explanation for the scene that had just unfolded in front of everyone.
“Our father gave it to her,” Alkgan finally answered after a few moments.
You immediately understood. If the position of chief was inherited for orcs as it was in human leadership, that meant their father was more likely than not gone. You had nothing of sentimental value left from your family but if you had, you likely would have had a similar reaction to losing it, if not worse.
“What if we made a replica? I could go back to the market and ask if anyone makes wooden beads. I could even be the one to give it to her and explain,” you offered, interrupted by the laughter of some of the orcs that had been listening in.
Alkgan bared his teeth at the offenders before looking down at you, “That… isn’t a good idea.”
You sighed, looking down at your plate once again and continuing to eat in silence. While you understood that it wouldn’t be an adequate replacement, the likelihood of the bead being found in the market before the camp moved on was slim to none.
Resolving to look for it yourself - or get a replacement if you couldn’t - you turned in early. You got up before the sun, climbing over the others in your shared wagon and through the camp. On the way, you passed Zhulgan’s wagon. Without thinking, you peeked inside, intent on asking her if she wanted to go with you only to find the wagon was already empty.
By the time you reached the market, vendors were already setting up their stalls. You followed the same path as the previous day, your eyes kept squarely on the ground looking for any sign of the bead in the dirt.
You smiled sheepishly at the old woman from the meat stall when she greeted you, helping her set up when she asked. She spoke at length, mostly telling you about her daughters and grandchildren and complaining about how the vendors were all forced out of the cities because soldiers would take all their hard-earned money.
Once you finished, you took the opportunity to ask if any of the stalls sold painted beads. With the directions she gave you, you quickly wove your way through the stalls to the other side of the market. It was easy enough to find the man she told you of, his stall filled with colorful accessories, mostly leather hair ties and wooden brushes. Asking him if he had beads large enough to put in a braid, you looked through the bowl filled with various wooden beads he held out to you.
You were pressed for time, the sky already brightening as the sun began to rise. The caravan was no doubt beginning to wake up and would soon be finished packing up the camp - but you didn’t want to rush your decision, trying to find something that reminded you of the original bead’s design, even if you couldn’t remember its exact markings.
The closest one you could find to the olive and orange coloring was an oblong bead painted red with alternating blue and green palm fronds on it. You buy it, apologetic as the man is forced to break one of your gold coins to silver and bronze change. When he’s more than a little short, you also buy twelve brushes and leather hair ties, giving him back a silver coin to cover the cost.
By the time you returned to camp, the wagons were already loaded and the children were being herded into their respective rides. You went straight to the wagon you shared with the other humans, deciding to give the bead to Zhulgan in private whenever you eventually saw her next. In the meantime, you handed out your immensely popular gifts, everyone more than happy to finally brush their hair with something infinitely better than their fingers, no one really asking questions about where you got the money.
You felt bad lying about the money you had, but you weren’t planning on keeping it for yourself anyhow. While you agreed with Alkgan that you needed to begin saving money for your life after leaving Dumir, this particular payment didn’t feel rightfully yours. After returning it, you would have to figure out a way to pay back the rest.
Unfortunately, you didn’t see Zhulgan for the rest of the day, the caravan not stopping to set up camp until the next evening, but by then you were too busy watching after the children before dinner to go looking for her.
Zhulgan wanted to avoid the larger cities more likely to have Dumirian soldiers stationed in them, so the caravan shifted course to northwest. The market was the final stop before the caravan moved away from the coast, venturing further inland to avoid the ports.
You immediately missed the cooling ocean air - not just because it reminded you of home, but because the air became humid and even the nights were muggy and miserable.
Rather than squeeze into a wagon all together, everyone in the camp who had to share their sleeping space took to sleeping under the stars with just your pillows. It offered little relief from the heat, even without a blanket, but after a long day of being jostled around on a hard wood floor you would pass out cold every night.
You woke with a start on one such night when someone stepped on your back, your instinct to begin thrashing when you felt hands pressing down on your shoulder until you processed that it was Winnie shushing you.
“What the hell are you doing?” You groused, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and falling back onto your pillow.
“I have to pee,” Winnie answered swiftly.
You pause, letting your hand fall to your side and waiting for your eyes to adjust to the darkness to examine her closely. She shifted from one leg to another, rolling her shoulder and refusing to meet your eyes even in the dark.
“I’ll join you, then.”
“No!” She gasped, her voice rising slightly. Her agitated reaction in response to the offer had been entirely expected, and Winnie realized as well that you had seen right through her ruse, deflating with a sigh, “Fine. I’m meeting Vulgud.”
You blink dumbly, your mouth falling open in a silent ‘oh’. You thought back on the journey thus far, trying to come up with some hint of the two being that close, reading into every instance you saw the two interacting with a new perspective. You couldn’t recall any single moment that stood out, much less indicate that they were involved. You felt guilty, so preoccupied with leaving Dumir and how you would all survive that you hadn’t been paying attention to the others in the present. You wondered what else you had missed.
“Okay,” you finally said, voice high and ears burning as you looked anywhere but directly at Winnie, “Be back before morning and… don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Winnie looked mortified, her face turning a tomato red as she hissed your name. You fell back as soon as she scurried off with an almost inaudible promise to be back well before morning. If it hadn’t been so damned hot - and your weren’t surrounded by other people sound asleep - you would have hidden under a blanket and screamed.
With the embarrassing exchange fresh on your mind, you couldn’t go back to sleep. By chance, you remembered the bead that had until that point lay forgotten in the coin purse. You never did give it to Zhulgan despite there being plenty of opportunities to do so since you bought it. Your hand wiggled its way into your bag, rolling the cool wood in your hand.
Eventually giving up on falling back asleep, you resolved to leave the purse with the bead inside on the edge of Zhulgan’s wagon for her to find in the morning, getting up and picking your way around the others much more carefully than Winnie had.
You proceeded to spend the next ten minutes pacing outside her wagon. Every time you stepped close you would find yourself spinning back around, unable to go through with the drop off, only to make it a few steps before turning around and trying to approach all over again, any resolve you had while still half-asleep sputtering out before you could actually enact your plan. Once you had time to second guess your actions, the entire thing seemed ridiculous. Alkgan’s words echoed in your mind - this was a bad idea.
Your concern was mostly over the bead, rather than the money. The orcs’ ways were still largely a mystery to you, even when you had been living alongside them, particularly what they thought of gifts. There was also the matter of Zhulgan’s reaction would be. You weren’t particularly close to Zhulgan, most of her communication with you through her brother. Now you questioned if it was a good idea to try and replace something so personal with a random bead so far from her home. If she wanted to replace it at all, she was likely waiting until the caravan returned to the orc lands. What if she didn’t even notice the bag and it fell off the wagon, never to be seen again? Then the loss would be all that gold and the bead.
Finally deciding enough was enough while facing away from the wagon, you took a deep breath, steeling yourself to turn around, put the bead on the edge of the wagon and be done with it.
When you did turn, however, you were confronted with a snarling Zhulgan, bleary-eyed and clearly displeased with being woken.
“Uh- I’m sorry I didn’t mean to wake you I was…” you trailed off, struggling to come up with some excuse as to why you were loitering around her wagon in the middle of the night, scrapping the bead idea entirely. While you stammered, Zhulgan’s head disappeared back into the wagon.
You stood there for a moment in disbelief, wondering if she simply decided you weren’t worth talking to and went back to sleep. Just as you were about to turn and leave, her voice called out from inside.
“What are you waiting for? Hurry up and come in.”
You obeyed without hesitation, clambering up the ledge and trying not to appear as curious as you felt being in Zhulgan’s personal space. Orc wagons were all huge; even the single orcs’ wagons had to be large enough to carry all their belongings as well as fit a fully grown orc to sleep comfortably in at night. The chief’s wagon was no exception, trunks stacked and pushed against both sides of the wagon with the center covered in thick pelts - obviously Zhulgan’s bed.
On the far end of the wagon, Zhulgan was sitting down rubbing her forefinger and thumb into her eyelids to clear the crust of sleep, her hair down in loose waves that reached her waist. It was a shock to see the orc chief so at ease - you were so used to seeing the rigid, ever-serious woman riding alongside the caravan, or silently eating dinner. You sometimes caught glimpses of a different Zhulgan with the other orcs, but in front of you and the other humans, she never broke character.
You took only a couple steps inside before sitting at the edge of the outermost pelt, too afraid to venture deeper. When Zhulgan made no attempt to speak first, you decided to break the silence.
“Have you found your bead?”
“You came here in the middle of the night to ask me that?” Zhulgan asked, her eyebrow raised.
You shifted under Zhulgan’s disbelieving stare, eventually resigning yourself to the fact that your true purpose in waking her was infinitely better than wasting Zhulgan’s time asking random questions to beat around the bush.
You took out the purse and the bead, holding both out on your palm, “I went back to the market- I looked for your bead first, of course, but I couldn’t find it… I had to use some of the gold you gave me to get this one but I can’t accept it- I’ll find a way to pay it back but the rest is all there.”
Zhulgan stared down at your hand, her entire body tensing and eyes alert, though she made no move to reach over and take either from you.
“I’m sorry, Alkgan told me the bead was a bad idea-” you began to retract your hand so you could remove the bead but Zhulgan moved faster, taking your wrist in her hand and taking the bead from you.
“It’s fine,” Zhulgan said tersely, her eyes never leaving yours, not even to look at the bead in her hand.
“W-what about the gold?” You stammered, leaning forward to try and place the purse onto Zhulgan’s open palm.
She closed her fist before you could, shaking her head, “it’s yours.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but one stern look from Zhulgan silenced you. You were resolute in your decision to give the gold back, but definitely weren’t brave enough to argue with an orc chief to her face about it, conceding to try again another day.
Once the silence began to stretch into uncomfortable, you cleared your throat, unable to tell if she even liked your other gift, still in her hand on her lap.
“Uhm… I can put it in your hair, if you’d like?” You offered awkwardly, surprised when Zhulgan actually handed you the bead after a long pause, seemingly unwilling to part with it.
You crawled over to her side, waiting patiently as Zhulgan grabbed a small wire hook and hair tie from the top of one of her trunks and handed everything to you. Rising to your knees, you set to work combing your fingers through her hair to detangle it.
As you ran your fingers through one last time with no resistance, Zhulgan’s right hand nestled itself on the back of your knee. You tried not to jump or show any reaction to the sudden contact, realizing too late how intimate your position was, leaning against Zhulgan. There you were, alone in Zhulgan’s wagon, less than a hair’s breadth away from each other when you only intended to drop the gold and bead off.
You were so nervous, you nearly dropped it while trying to run the hook through it, able to catch it against your body before it was lost in the shadows but immediately thrown into another crisis as Zhulgan’s hand rose slightly when you first fumbled, then tightened around your thigh when you secured it again. This time you did jump, knowing Zhulgan could feel your muscles tensing underneath her hand. For once, you were grateful for the humidity, at least having an excuse for your sweaty, flustered appearance.
Once a sizable lock of hair was looped through the hole, it was easy to pull the rest all the way through and move the bead up until it was almost to Zhulgan’s jaw, near where the other one had originally been. You were technically done, but you found yourself unwilling to be the first to move, your fingers still toying with the bead.
“I should go,” you finally whispered, grateful your voice didn’t sound as uncertain as you felt.
Zhulgan turned her head fully to you, her eyes boring right into your own, her lips parting and tongue peeking out for a moment to wet them, “If you’d like.”
You were caught entirely off guard, eyes focused on her mouth before flitting your attention up to her eyes with a delay that would’ve been noticeable even if Zhulgan hadn’t been watching our reaction carefully. You had no idea what to say in response and Zhulgan was being even more tight-lipped than usual while she waited for you to answer.
“Uhh—” you began intelligently, your eyes flying down to your leg as she gave it a reassuring squeeze, making your resolve to leave crumble even further. You were certain you weren’t imagining the sudden atmospheric shift in the wagon, that you weren’t alone in your anticipation for something, anything to happen.
Zhulgan continued to watch you, patiently waiting for you to get a grip. There was no amusement, no teasing - at least, on purpose, you were fairly sure - about how tongue-tied you were, just the constant weight of her eyes on your face and her hand on your thigh. You wished she would remove it, put it on the floor so you would no longer be distracted by it, wanting so badly for her to just move it up past the hem of your nightgown instead of making you say something first.
“I should braid it,” you finally exhaled, your mouth full of sand and hyperaware of every single point of contact between you, “so it will stay in place.” Zhulgan hummed, the meaning behind which you could only guess but she remained still, neither convincing you to stay or pointing out your conflicting statements.
Slowly, your hands returned to her scalp, taking the lock with the bead and sectioning off two more locks of similar enough size. Oh gods you were nervous, under no illusion your shaking hands would even compare to those of an orc, even their children better at making a braid than you by the time they hit adolescence. Still, though you were certain Zhulgan would fix it anyways come morning, you tried your best not to mess up too badly, tucking away the errant tufts while you worked.
Zhulgan’s thumb began to move, making your breath catch in your throat when the pad of her finger brushed circles over your skin, her palm once again settled in the crook of your knee. You stilled, only a few turns into the braid. Hesitantly, once it became clear Zhulgan had no plans to go further at that point, you began to weave the locks together again, your breathing continuing noticeably more labored.
Zhulgan muttered something in orcish under her breath as you finally tied off the end, your eyes fluttering up to meet hers. You had been picking up some orcish slowly but surely over the course of your journey, Alkgan taking the time to teach you when he had time, but you didn’t know much more than a few relevant words and phrases and were also too distracted to catch any more than one in particular: sweet girl.
A common pet name between parent and child within the caravan - as well as for couples, you thought, more importantly. You wet your lips, mirroring her own actions earlier and you catch Zhulgan looking down at them just as you had earlier.
“Please,” you breathed, your voice so low you were certain it had only been said in your own head, yet another unfortunate instance of you getting lost in your own thoughts and forgetting to actually speak. You weren’t even sure what exactly you were asking Zhulgan to do, just certain that you wanted this misery to end.
Zhulgan closed the distance between you, her plush lips enveloping your own in an electrifying kiss. You melted immediately, glad for your hand on her shoulder to keep yourself upright. Her palm travelled upward, leisurely in its pace and aimless in its direction, stopping for a moment midway of what you’d hoped would be its destination to grip the meat of your thigh.
You whined into Zhulgan’s mouth as her rough fingertips brushed against a sensitive spot on your inner thigh, the dull tip of her tusk digging into your cheek as you arched your back into her, your lips never wanting to leave hers.
You eventually have to part for air, both of you panting heavily as you both looked at each other with heavy-lidded eyes.
You wanted to stay longer, but your mind reluctantly reminded you of Winnie’s promise to return before morning and, just outside the wagon, the first rays of morning light were making the camp gray.
“I have to go. They’ll notice I’m gone,” you said, the faintest hint of a whine in your tone as you reluctantly let go of your vice grip on Zhulgan’s shoulder.
After a moment, Zhulgan’s hand slid down the length of your thigh, over the bend of your knee and to the floor by her side, her fingertips brushing against your bare calf and sending one last shiver up your spine. Eventually, you climbed to your feet like a newborn calf.
As soon as you were standing, Zhulgan shifted until she was facing away from you. You felt the urge to say something, but had no idea what - thank her? Apologize? You opened your mouth, then snapped it shut again, leaving the wagon and making the trek back to where the others still lay sleeping.
Laying back down on your thin blanket, now slightly damp with dew, You told yourself you were staying up until Winnie got back, but you were really just running over the events of the night over and over in your mind, analyzing every second of interaction and wondering what could have happened if you stayed.
The thought immediately made you feel guilty the moment it crossed your mind, knowing it was selfish to be seeking personal comfort in your temporary accommodations. You should be planning the next step, figuring out what to do once you crossed the orc lands instead of imagining a night spent in Zhulgan’s arms…
You remained awake well after Winnie returned, the first beams of orange sunlight cutting through the distant mist covering the mountains in the horizon. You couldn’t bring yourself to scold her for staying out later than she promised, you yourself having done the very same thing.
By the time the others began to wake, you were exhausted. You flinched when Mauve leaned over to wake you only to find you already staring up at the sky. The morning passed in a haze. It was your turn to ride in the kids’ wagon while the caravan finally passed Barba. You mostly just let them play with your hair while you were lost in thought, the younger kids more than happy to be allowed to practice their braiding on you.
For years you had assumed your indifference towards the boys of Ozryn could be attributed to the fact that you had known them all your life, unable to find the kids you grew up with as attractive. Even as your friends managed to do just that, your mind was always ready with some rationalization. Never before had you felt as you did with Zhulgan, the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach at the very memory alien to you.
Perhaps it was all a mistake, your mind conflating the debt you owed her with desire, gratitude mistaken for feelings. Nevermind that Alkgan had been the one to help you that day, and the sibling that you have been spending much more time with since then… No, you simply respected Zhulgan, felt indebted to her, wanted to kiss her again—
You cursed under your breath, apologizing aloud as you extracted yourself from the group of kids making braids of varying size and quality in your hair. They merely shrugged, easily transitioning to playing with each other’s hair instead.
You were tying your hair back when the wagon suddenly lurched to a halt, everyone inside tumbling as well. In the process, your hair tie snapped as you jerked your hands apart to find purchase before you could fall out the back of the wagon. You groaned, the combined reaction of your back knocking into the wooden frame and orc kids knocking into you. Another groan left you at the sight of the two pieces of leather still being clutched in your hands.
“Is everyone okay?” You asked, waiting until the chorus of grumbling affirmations died down before crawling out the driver’s end.
Derdig, a young orc only recently having earned the title of warrior, appeared just as confused as you were at the abrupt stop.
“What happened?”
“No idea,” he replied, trying to look over the tops of the wagons, confirming your suspicion. Whatever it was, it must have happened towards the front of the caravan.
“We’re setting camp here!” Augrak called from a few wagons ahead.
There were more than a few annoyed groans across the caravan, no one happy to be stopping so soon. You jumped from the wagon and walked ahead, careful to avoid the wagons veering off the road.
It was soon apparent what the issue was: a wagon leaning heavily to one side in the middle of the road, its back wheel missing. Zhulgan and Vulgud were in deep discussion next to it as you approached.
“Is everything okay?” You asked, doing your best not to look directly at Zhulgan lest you stumble on your words, only to find yourself unable to meet Vulgud’s eyes as you thought of Winnie the night before. You settled on examining the intact wheel still laying on the ground.
“One of the fasteners snapped when it hit a dip,” Vulgud sighed, “It will take me a few hours to make a temporary one and change it… and I might as well check the other wagons while we’re at it.”
“Mauve can help you,” you offered, though it felt somewhat awkward to be doing so in her absence, “It will go faster with two people.”
Vulgud nodded once in thanks, heading off to his own wagon for supplies. It was only after he was gone you realized you should have walked back with him, now standing alone with Zhulgan. To your great surprise, she still wore the exact same braid you made. You wondered if anyone had noticed it before almost immediately concluding it definitely had; all the orcs had braids of some form or another, and Zhulgan’s was so obviously made by an amateur.
You felt embarrassed at the thought of her telling others you had been the one to make it. Zhulgan definitely wasn’t the type to kiss and tell, but you fretting at the possibility that others would find out what the two of you had done afterwards.
“Your hair is still down,” Zhulgan observed.
You flinched, touching the ends of your hair at the reminder of your broken hair tie, having worn it every day since you bought it. Did your hair look that bad? It must have, considering the number of kids that had been braiding it - or, more accurately for some, twisting it together haphazardly until it made knots.
Between the current state of your hair and the braid you made on hers, Zhulgan probably thought you had never even learned to take care of it.
“Oh, yeah… It snapped.”
Zhulgan’s lips parted slightly, seemingly on the verge of saying something when Rose called out to you and Zhulgan, waving her hand for the two of you to come over.
At first, you were relieved to be called away before you could embarrass yourself further. You didn’t make it far, however, until you saw what she had been calling the two of you for.
A small party of soldiers - Dumirian, by their flags - was riding down the road towards the caravan from Barba, their armor glinting in the evening sun.
“Go get the others and wait in the wagon. Don’t be seen,” you told Rose, unable to explain the terror that seemed to fill you at the very sight of the soldiers.
“Take the children with you,” Zhulgan added, Rose nodding and hurrying off.
Perhaps your distrust was unfounded - these were technically your countrymen, after all - but your previous experience with soldiers obviously sowed the seed of doubt within you that was currently sprouting. You wanted to err on the side of caution, if only to keep things simple for the orcs.
“I am General Tarren Aubron,” the leading man introduced himself as they stopped in front of you and Zhulgan, sliding his leg over his horse’s back and stepping down, “Do you require assistance?”
Assuming he was addressing Zhulgan about the broken wagon, you remained silent, your gaze behind the general and on the swords his men carried on this supposedly friendly visit. When the silence stretched on, you looked at the general, your stomach sinking with the realization that he was looking directly at you. You glanced out the corner of your eye to meet Zhulgan’s, more nervous than you probably should have been. It was making you slow. Why would you need help? And why wasn’t Zhulgan speaking?
Recalling that she allowed Alkgan to speak for her when you first met to let you think she didn’t speak common, you took a deep breath and hoped what you were about to do was the thing she was waiting for.
You turned to look Zhulgan directly in the eye, “What do I say?”
She looked down at you for a moment. If she was surprised by you suddenly speaking orcish, she didn’t show it, only subtly nodding for you to speak.
“Chief Zhulgan is in charge of this caravan,” you told Aubron quietly, uncomfortable under the scrutiny of the soldiers and wondering where Alkgan was, “I am traveling with them.”
“What about the other girl we saw? Is she traveling with you as well?”
You inwardly groaned, hoping he didn’t ask to speak to Rose as well.
“Yes.”
You thought that would be the end of it, but the general was seemingly undeterred by your curt responses - or driven to investigate your apparent discomfort further and continue to address you alone.
“If you require an escort within the kingdom, I can spare some of my men with you girls wherever you need,” General Aubron offered, clearly thinking his offer magnanimous as he stressed the word ‘spare’, “Surely you would rather come with us?”
“No thank you,” you said without hesitation and you believed firmly.
The unease you felt from the beginning of your interaction with the soldiers was validated further the more the general persisted in trying to get you alone, taking a step forward every time you took a step back. You wanted nothing more than to snap at the man, already telling him in no uncertain terms that you would not leave the orc caravan with him, but you feared it would only cause more trouble should he take offense.
Unfortunately, General Aubron took your politeness to mean you could be swayed, his overbearing demeanor leaving a sour taste in your mouth.
“Well, we should ask your companion, at least, perhaps she would-”
“She said no,” Zhulgan finally intervened, stepping in front of you once she finally had enough of the circles the conversations was running around.
Aubron’s concerned facade slipped for a moment as his mouth twisted into a scowl as he finally faced Zhulgan for the first time. You shuddered to think what chance you had without the imposing figures of the orc raiders to back up your repeated refutations.
“We are here to protect the people of Dumir. She should come with us, not brutes,” he said, attempting to sidestep Zhulgan with an arm stretched out for you.
You felt your skin crawl, as though his advances were literal grime sticking to you. You wanted nothing more than to run away, slap his hand away from you or whatever you had to to keep him away.
You thought back to the market. If there were soldiers stationed as close as Barba, why would the vendors remain out in the country? When the meat vendor spoke at length about hating soldiers, you had assumed she had been referring to the enemy, but she had never elaborated, so perhaps… You wondered how much longer it would take Vulgud to get the wheel fixed. And where the hell was Alkgan?
Zhulgan growled, the heavy rumbling like thunder you were so used to hearing in jest among orcs now sounding like a true threat. Relief washed over you as the very sound made the general stop dead in his tracks; so much so, that before she could speak, you did, emboldened by Aubron’s sudden fear.
“I have said multiple times now that I won’t go with you,” your voice shook for a moment, but the more you went on, the more confident you grew, “I am crossing the orc lands and you cannot help me with that! Frankly, even if you could, your insistence has ruined any chance you had of me trusting you - and for that matter, why are you stationed here? My home and countless other villages have been razed in the south and yet we’ve not seen a single soldier until now! What have you been doing while people were dying or being taken prisoner? Is that what you call protecting?!”
You were breathing heavily by the time you finished, blood rushing in your ears as your short-lived satisfaction morphed into the grim realization that Aubron was now glaring daggers at you. Guilt consumed you for giving in to your anger - not for Aubron’s sake, but for creating more problems that Zhulgan would have to deal with.
“Think carefully, human,” Zhulgan said, causing your head to immediately snap up to look at her, not realizing that she wasn’t speaking to you until you saw her focus was directed towards Aubron, “We have done you and your king a favor by taking out a foreign platoon, but my warriors want to return home now; I cannot stop them from stomping out any pests that stand in their way.”
Aubron’s nostrils flared in anger, his features contorting even further into pure rage. For a few tense moments, nobody moved. Just as you began to worry his pride would win out and he would challenge the orcs, he turned, barking for his men to turn back to Barba.
As soon as the horses disappeared in a trail of dust, you deflated with relief, relieved of the tension that kept your back straight throughout the entire encounter. You immediately began to take off to check on the others only for Zhulgan to grab your arm.
“I’m sorry,” you apologized immediately, believing Zhulgan was upset with you for blowing up as you had, “I shouldn’t have said those things. It could have made him attack or go get reinforcements but I just- I hated how he was so arrogant and all the soldiers… and when he called you brutes—!”
“Don’t be sorry. I’m not angry with you,” Zhulgan interjected, “He was the one in the wrong. If you hadn’t told him, I would have.”
You nodded, twisting your head around when you heard Mauve and Winnie calling you. Zhulgan let you go just as you began to race over, resisting the urge to break down when everyone else jumped out of the wagon questioning you about what happened.
“Rose wouldn’t tell us anything,” Mauve huffed, worry etching across her features despite her attempt to sound neutral.
“Dumirian soldiers,” you said, too breathless and tired from the unpleasant run-in to adequately explain all the emotions you felt, “They- they were insisting I let them escort us.”
“Why didn’t you agree?” Grace cried out, pushing her way to the front of the group, “They could have taken us somewhere safe - still in Dumir! We wouldn’t have to cross the orc lands!”
“I-” you hesitated, the reasoning for your rejection feeling inadequate now that you were trying to explain it to those that weren’t there. The general had asked if you needed help? Insisted on being of assistance to you? You were doubting yourself, wondering if it was just the armor that made your mind twist innocent intention, “I don’t know how to explain it… I didn’t get a good feeling from the general-”
“Quiet, Grace!” Mauve hissed, rounding on the girl, “We all made this decision a long time ago - it’s safest to get out of Dumir until the war’s over.”
“Please,” Grace retorted, refusing to back down even facing down Mauve, “We haven’t even seen any more enemy soldiers! For all we know, the war’s already as good as over! Or at the very least, not here.”
“Stop it,” Rose said, stepping in between both girls, “If she thought it was safer to go with them, then we would have gone- right?”
All eyes turned back to you. You nodded, trying once again to explain, “they only saw me and Rose. I did turn the general’s offer down immediately - but then he kept insisting. When Zhulgan told him to respect my decision, he got angry. Called the orcs brutes and then tried to follow me when I tried to get away.”
There were some noises of indignation, Grace’s indignation swiftly leaving her and Winnie in particular appeared the most upset. Your hand found hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
“He probably didn’t know,” Grace said softly, though it seemed like a weak attempt to convince herself than you or the others.
“No… he was beyond reason. If there wasn’t an entire caravan of orcs behind us, I’m afraid he might not have taken no for an answer. And- at the market- one of the vendors at the market told me about the soldiers - they’re the reason they moved outside the city limits. They aren’t good people.”
“See?” Mauve said, “I knew there had to be a good reason.”
Any further bickering was interrupted by Derdig, informing the group that Vulgud had replaced the wheel and that the caravan would be moving on. You were relieved, wanting to put as much distance as possible between everyone and the soldiers.
When sundown came, the caravan pressed on, not stopping to camp until the next afternoon. To make up for lost time, Derdig had assured the whining children, but you knew the truth. Zhulgan also wanted to get far away from Barba.
Zhulgan had stopped relatively close to a stream, most of the caravan taking the opportunity to do laundry, everyone stripping down to what they were comfortable with and washing their clothes. You were helping make the food, so you weren’t able to go yourself until the sun was hanging low on the horizon. You sat a good ways upstream from the camp, wearing only your nightgown as you scrubbed your undergarments with soap and a vigor you were too embarrassed to display within anyone’s eyeshot, even if it was already dark.
Unfortunately, the necessary movement also made your hair fall into your eyes no matter how often you swept it back. Your only option was to work quickly, your tunic and pants already back at camp hanging.
Your hair had gotten substantially longer; your mother likely would have had you sitting down in the kitchen for a trimming by now. Your brother as well if she could catch him. Those were the moments you missed the most, small things about the present reminding you of the past. When the caravan had stopped near a beach, all the children had leapt at the chance to go swimming; your brother would have definitely been there to hoist them up and toss them into the water, just like he used to do in the large lake near Ozryn in the summers.
Your melancholy manifested itself as frustration, throwing your sock down on the rock you perched yourself on. You bunched your hair with your soapy hands and held it there for a minute, willing it to suddenly stay in place - an attempt to distract yourself from the tears pricking the corners of your eyes.
A twig snapped form across the stream, your name a quiet question. When you looked up, Zhulgan was standing there.
You smiled sheepishly, looking back down so you could discretely wipe your eyes with the material of your sleeve.
“Sorry, my hair was annoying me,” you forced out a laugh, incredibly conscious of how you appeared to the chief.
“I can braid it for you,” Zhulgan quietly said, continuing when you said nothing, “get it out of your way.”
You blinked slowly, not sure if you heard her proposal correctly. You chewed your bottom lip, uncertain if you were reading too much into the offer. Your interactions with the orc chief had been limited since your two groups began traveling together, and yet after a single night the two of you had… you had no idea whether you should take the advance as a proposition to continue what you had started or simply take it at face value.
You found yourself nodding despite not reaching any conclusion, scolding yourself for the giddiness you felt at the prospect of being so close to Zhulgan again as you gathered your clothes and wrung them out one final time before crossing the stream. Zhulgan sat on the ground, procuring multiple hair ties from her pocket. You realized she had come prepared with a small smile you quickly hid as you sat with your back to her.
“Get closer,” she said and you scooted back a few inches, not having the nerve to get as close as you wished even with the knowledge that Zhulgan had sought you out after your brief comment about your broken hair tie.
Instead of taking your hair, Zhulgan’s hands gripped your sides and easily maneuvered you in between her thighs, eliciting an undignified squeak from you. You quickly looked along the stream to confirm no one had wandered from camp. You began to fidget, too engrossed in the proximity to realize you were making it impossible for Zhulgan to grab your hair.
Finally, she placed a hand on your shoulder, her breath fanning over the shell of your ear as she told you to sit still. You froze immediately, not daring to so much as exhale as you waited for Zhulgan to begin.
“Breath,” she said, and though you were facing away, you could have sworn you could hear a smile in her voice.
You exhaled, feeling slightly lightheaded with the rush of air finally entering your lungs. At last, Zhulgan’s hands ran down the length of your hair, working out the tangles from the kids’ earlier attempts from the tips upward.
“Should’ve brought a brush,” she noted, your eyes sliding shut as her nails scraped along your scalp.
You could only hum in response, Zhulgan extracting her fingers once she found a knot and slowly pulling it apart by hand, surprisingly gentler than you expected the warrior to be.
“Thank you, for your help,” you eventually said, “I didn’t get the chance to thank you for protecting me at the time.”
Zhulgan made no reply and you had to resist the urge to lean back into her as her fingers deftly maneuvered the locks she partitioned into a single plait along the top of your head and down towards your neck. It felt good after so long of sleeping on a moving wagon or the ground, especially with the large bruise on your back from the earlier abrupt stop.
Though you couldn’t see the work in progress, you had faith Zhulgan would make it flawlessly, seeing how she did her own hair every morning. Perhaps it was because of her position, but she had by far the most intricate braiding amongst the orcs, which made you curious.
“Can I ask why you left the braid I did?”
Zhulgan tensed, you head snapping back slightly as she tugged your hair in the process, your sleepy, relaxed state doused with ice water.
“Sorry,” she apologized immediately. You waited a moment for her answer, but she simply focused on getting back to your braid. Before you could apologize for the question and give up on getting an answer, she spoke again, “For orcs, to braid someone’s hair is… an important gift. It is not something to be changed lightly.”
You twisted around, shocked, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know! I wouldn’t have offered if I-”
“It’s alright,” Zhulgan said, and from her soft tone, you were inclined to believe her, “I accepted your gift, remember?”
And, after turning your head back around and feeling Zhulgan comb out the partial braid and start over, you realized she was right. Zhulgan would have had no trouble turning you down. However, you now had the question of what exactly was the implication of you braiding her hair - and her returning the favor. “If I had known you would leave it, I would have done a better job…”
Zhulgan laughed. It was not as loud as Alkgan but you still you felt a sense of accomplishment - even if you weren’t trying to be funny with your sincere statement. You smiled, deciding you liked the sound.
“You can redo it after I’m done,” she promised once she composed herself, reworking the braid with experienced fingers. You wished you didn’t have to sit still, wanting nothing more than to look back and decipher her expression - was she serious or still teasing? She had just shared with you how important the act was and yet still wanted you to do it again, now armed with the knowledge that it is important.
When Zhulgan finished tying off the braid, she leaned forward, seemingly checking to make sure it was all in place. However, instead of leaning back once she was finished examining her work, she pressed her lips to the base of your neck where it met your shoulder.
You gasped, feeling Zhulgan’s hand envelop your midriff and pulling you closer until you were surrounded by her. You leaned into her warmth easily, your head falling back onto her shoulder, exposing the column of your throat for Zhulgan to kiss. You turned your head to meet her kiss, whimpering as you felt Zhulgan fist the fabric of your nightgown over your stomach, lifting it above your knees.
“Want me to touch you?” Zhulgan rasped, her voice alone making your muscles clench in anticipation.
“Your braid…” you think you meant it as a question, but it was hard to even remember if you were talking about the braid Zhulgan had made or the braid you did when Zhulgan’s fingers touched your bare belly, not moving any lower.
“I can stop, then,” Zhulgan hummed, beginning to pull away until your hand flew from its perch on her thigh to catch her retreating hand and weaving your fingers with hers. Your significantly smaller digits strained almost uncomfortably to reach, but you still held tight.
“What if someone sees?” You whisper, unable to resist planting another kiss on the upturned edge of Zhulgan’s mouth despite your concern for the camp only a hundred meters away.
“It’s dark,” Zhulgan said, feeling her hand move down your soft belly before her fingers ran along the edge of your curls. The pads of her fingers following the crease of your thigh to bring your leg over her own, brushing up your slit before urging your other leg to follow suit.
Despite the humidity, you could still feel a breeze, making you shudder even before Zhulgan’s middle finger found your exposed bundle of nerves, your toes curling and thighs tensing as your hips pushed themselves into her touch.
“I hated how he spoke too you,” Zhulgan suddenly admitted, her hand dipping lower to brush against your slit and the other pressing on your sternum, “Ignored you when you said no… Wanted to kill him where he stood- shut him up forever.”
You appreciated the sentiment, but the last thing you wanted to think about with Zhulgan’s hand in between your thighs was General Aubron. Still, you allowed Zhulgan to work out her frustration, content to focus on the thick finger teasing your entrance, the blunt tips of her nails sending electricity up your body. Suddenly, it pushed inside you to the base, first cursing then writhing when Zhulgan’s thumb continued to rub rough circles around your clit.
Zhulgan’s hand was obviously larger than yours, but it did little to prepare you for the sheer difference in size, your walls flexing to try and accommodate. It took all you had just to moan her name, Zhulgan’s palm slapping over your mouth before you could cry out once she began to move, the rapid motion of her wrist making slick sounds.
“So tight,” Zhulgan panted into your skin, tusks scraping over your back as she moved to rest her chin on your opposite shoulder, struggling to get another finger inside to join its neighbor, “Sweet girl.”
You wanted to explode, drowning in Zhulgan’s embrace - overwhelmed with the heat and the chance of being caught at any moment, on display for all to see in your current position. Eyes rolling back as a second finger joined in pushing your towards the edge, tipping over it once you felt the stretch of both digits scissoring apart. In an attempt to stabilize yourself as your hips involuntarily spasmed around Zhulgan’s hand, you were vaguely aware of the orc chief babbling words of praise in your ear, a long whine escaping you instead of all the words you wanted to say racing in your mind.
You were too tired to protest being lowered to the ground after your climax, Zhulgan’s temporarily missing warmth almost unbearable for the moment it took her palms to leave your sides to slowly parting your legs once again, her thumbs opening you for the long stripe licked with her tongue. You gasped, your legs instinctively jolting with oversensitivity only for Zhulgan to hold you still, nuzzling your thighs and continuing to eat you out - licking you clean, you realized as you slowly felt the overwhelming feeling subside only to feel the pleasure build back up again.
“I think I messed up the braid already,” you panted once Zhulgan finally sat back up on her haunches, somehow managing to sit up and crawl with your noodle legs onto her lap, your fingers lacing into hers as you brought her hand up to kiss her knuckles.
“Hm. No, I make mine to last, unlike you,” Zhulgan said, and it took you a shocked moment to realize that she had made a joke at your expense. Once your shared laughter subsided, you sat together in a comfortable silence, head tucked comfortable underneath Zhulgan’s chin, feeling the strong heartbeat reverberate in your skull, neither one of you willing to part and return to your separate wagons just yet.
“I can feel you thinking,” Zhulgan’s voice was a rumble in her chest, a reassuring sound if she wasn’t trying to get you to talk.
“So what now?” You finally dared ask, voice low and uncertain, reluctant to bring reality back to shoot you down from your emotional high. It brought a sour taste in your mouth, worry creeping its tendrils into your thoughts.
You can do my braid again… or we can just go to straight to my wagon,” Zhulgan hummed.
“Hilarious,” you sneer, but your attitude only seems to amuse Zhulgan, her entire body shaking with her laughter, forcing you to cling to her until it faded once again, “I meant- in the future. How- what will we…?”
Zhulgan sighed, “I know what you meant.. We both have people we are responsible for. I cannot ask you to forget about your responsibilities just as you cannot ask me to forget mine-”
You nodded, burying your face in her neck.
“-But we have time still to get to the orc lands, and more to cross them, and if you need to earn more coin for wherever you go next… you can stay.”
You felt your eyes moisten ever so slightly. Longer, you know she means, but for the moment, you can pretend.
“I think… I want to go to your wagon,” you whispered, glancing up and meeting Zhulgan’s grin for just a moment before you found yourself being lifted with her as she stood, her strong arms supporting you even as you clung to her.
“Wait, my clothes!” You cried out, wriggling out of her grasp for a moment to grab your forgotten undergarments, feeling her stare as you bent down to gather the articles of clothing.
When you stood back up, Zhulgan was behind you, her hands running along your sides. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to lean back into her. For the moment, you decided, you would simply enjoy the happiness blossoming in your chest, lose yourself in the moment.
For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel quite so adrift, tethered by Zhulgan’s arms if only for the moment.
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@ninjago-angst-week sorry I'm late!
Day 6: Anger
Kai hates the universe for everything. Surprisingly, his teammates don’t agree.
Or 5 times where Kai lets anger control him, and 1 time he doesn't.
Word count: 13,944
- Nya - It’s been 6 days. Kai has spent all his time at Wu’s Monastery doing nothing but training and passing out from exhaustion. The only reason why he kept going was his love of his sister- and his spite against the universe. First Spinjitsu Master, why had Lord-fucking-Germadon take his sister as a hostage? He was just a poor blacksmith, trying his best to make ends meet and to get a proper education for his bright, 14-year-old sister. But the universe has decided to throw another curveball at him by forcing him to become a ninja and complete this stupid course-
“ARGH!” Kai shouted in frustration as he was thrown off by the training course, again. “Failed,” Wu said and took a sip of his tea. Punching the obstacle course, with another shout, Kai seethed, seeing the colour red dancing all over his eyes. What did the old man know about saving people anyways? Why can’t he just fight Wu and be done with it? Graduate his class, be finally given the location to where his sister is, and end this chapter of his life- because he was all for it.
Looking for his tormentor, Kai noticed that Wu has slipped away, with all the stealth that only a ninja master has.
Taking deep breaths, Kai balled his fists even tighter, nails pressing indents into his palms. Tomorrow. There still was tomorrow. And by god was he going to pass because he won’t let his sister spend another day in captivity.
All he needed to do was complete the training course before Wu finishes his tea.
He had done it. Of course, it took a well-timed sword throw to technically pass, but he was done sitting around and waiting for some unknown force to rescue Nya. Master Wu told him to get a goodnight’s rest as they were going to leave in the morning. Yeah right. As if he wasn’t going to spend this night tossing and turning around again.
He didn’t spend the night staring into the ceiling of the monastery. Rather, he was rudely ambushed by 3 men dressed in black, who actually weren’t as much of a challenge that Kai thought they would pose. Huh, maybe the training Sensei Wu put him through was pretty useful after all.
All praises for the cryptic old man were thrown away once Wu revealed the 3 men to be his students. Seriously? Didn’t Wu just tell him to get a good night’s rest? Kai barely kept the snarl inside him when Wu did his spinjitzu thingy and he suddenly was in an entirely different get-up.
Hey! Kai thought angrily. What’s the big deal? The garment was loose-fitting and a solid shade of red, and whilst red may be Kai’s colour, the garb was still drab-looking and overall, not something Kai would have picked out for himself..
Wu then gave a quick introduction of the 3 men who attacked him, who were probably called Jey, Zain, and Coal. Hey, don’t look at him like that! It’s not like he had the time to go to school and learn Maths and the Ninjago Alphabet. Anyways, they were all, apparently Elemental Masters? Of lightning, ice and earth nonetheless. Now, Kai can understand Earth. And Kai of course can give a testament to fire. But what do lightning and ice have to do with the elements? Shouldn’t it be Air, Water, Earth, and Fire or something along those lines? What was the FSM thinking, naming these the elements of creation?
Just as Kai was about to head back into the monastery and actually catch a few Zs, Wu called to them telling them that they have to protect the 4 weapons of spinjitzu in order to beat Garmadon to them, for the Skulkin must have taken the map that Wu had hidden in the Four Weapons.
“And rescue my sister,” Kai stated, daring anyone to challenge this non-negotiable mission.
“We’re rescuing a girl? Is she hot?” The ninja in blue (seriously, why blue on a ninja? It really does not help his stealth) just straight up asked Kai if his sister was hot. Kai’s first instinct, of course, was to punch Jay hard in the teeth, followed by an elbow straight to his gut. But if he was going to be teammates with this guy, he had to control his urges and only glare at him through the convenient slit in his mask. The blue ninja chuckled nervously as Kai’s eyes bore holes into him.
“Does she like blue?”
“Back. Off.”
“When we find the weapons, we will find your sister. We rise at dawn to look for the Scythe of Quakes in the Caves of Despair,” Wu concluded the impromptu meeting at night, which diffused the tension between Kai and Jay. The fiery anger he felt pooling in the balls of his hands started to dissipate. In fact, most of his energy was gone too. Kai felt like he was sagging under the weight on his shoulders and immediately headed for his room, where he collapsed immediately upon reaching the soft, inviting mattress. It was the best sleep he had in possibly years.
Of course, Sensei Wu upheld his promise of rousing them at dawn to go collect the first Golden Weapon. What he didn’t warn the ninja beforehand was that he was going to use them to be his literal slaves, and Kai spent the morning running whilst pulling a carriage like a horse. This has to be illegal, Kai grumbled to himself. He was starting to be seriously short on breath. Luckily, his teammates seem to at least have some strength and endurance training, so whilst he was stationed at the easy middle, Cole was at the front spearheading the charge whilst still holding conversations like it was no big deal.
“So…huff, how did Sensei find you guys?” Kai panted, wanting to learn more about his teammates.
“Let’s just say if it wasn’t for Sensei Wu, we wouldn’t be seen together.“ Cole started
“I was testing my limits,” Cole gave a brief description of how when he was rock climbing, he found Sensei Wu already at the top of the mountain, drinking tea and offering him a cup.
“I was testing my inventions,” Jay also panted out, and tried to ramble about how he was testing a flying machine and crashed through a billboard (what?) before seeing Sensei Wu, was also drinking tea and offering him a cup. He couldn’t really talk too much, because at this point he was getting tired too.
“And I, was testing myself,” Zane said, whilst recalling how he was practicing to hold his breath underwater for even longer periods of time when he found Sensei Wu sitting next to him at the bottom of the pond, still somehow drinking tea before offering some to him, which immediately led Zane to choke.
“You’re right, if it wasn’t for Sensei, none of us would-” Kai said before Wu shouted at them to stop. They were here.
Immediately, everything felt more real to Kai. The drowsiness that he felt clouding his mind was cleared as pure adrenaline shot through his veins. He couldn’t fail now. Not when Nya’s life was on his hands. All he has to do was to collect 4 Ancient Weapons that have powers and he would be able to face off with Lord Garmadon. Jumping into action, he weaved through the Skulkin that were strolling and working in the area, body moving in autopilot and mind focusing on only one thing: Get the weapon.
On his way to the opening of the cave, Kai spotted Samurai reading the map to the 4 Golden Weapons on a watchtower. Kai immediately took a detour and climbed up onto the roof, where he could see Samukai reading the map.
“What’s the matter with you,” Jay whispered, hitting Kai on the head. Kai shushed him, before returning to watch Samukai laugh menacingly whilst holding the map upside down. Kai wondered how incompetent he was one week ago to have let this guy kidnap his sister. “The Golden Weapon is near,” Zane observed, before taking out a shuriken with a rope attached before looking at Cole for confirmation and then throwing it done, landing squarely in the middle of the map before pulling it back, holding the prize squarely in his hands.
There was no time to waste. Kai immediately backflipped off the building before climbing to the outcrop where 2 guards were stationed. Picking up a convenient lamp head, Kai carefully snuck by the 2 guards before ducking into the cave system. Kai began to start pushing the rock blocking the path to the weapon. But no matter how much he exerted himself, it didn’t move one inch. He felt like he was trying to make a sword again, doing everything he could but still failing. Grunting and groaning, Kai gave it his all.
Not soon enough, Kai heard the footsteps of his teammates.
“Hey, before you race off again, you gotta remember that we’re a team.” Cole’s patronizing voice made Kai stop his futile attempts at trying to push the boulder on his own. Kai looked at the 3 Ninja before sighing. “Yeah, whatever.”
The white, black and blue Ninja gathered around him and they all started to push, actually managing to shift the rock. Giving the rock his all, Kai did enough on his part to be suddenly be blasted by a golden light, shining from the cavern behind the rock. As his eyes got used to the sudden brightness, Kai spotted the Golden Scythe, sitting on top of a weird creature’s head.
“Woah, that is SO COOL!” Jay exclaimed, and his voice reverberated throughout the entire cave. Kai cringed from his volume. Here’s to hoping that the entire skeleton army outside won’t discover them. Cole shushed Jay again, before pulling out the Golden Scythe and jumping back down onto the cave floor. Wrapping it in a sheet of canvas, Cole once again reminded Jay to not be so loud.
“Oh, don’t be paranoid!” Jay brushed off the sentiment. Kai couldn’t believe that this guy was his teammate. “We’re totally on the other side of the caves!”
“Zip it, okay?” Cole admonished the blue Ninja whilst handing the wrapped Scythe of Quakes to Kai. It’s okay with him. As long as he can make sure that this weapon is safe which in turn ensures that Nya is safe, he’s alright with taking the Scythe. “Now that we’ve got the Scythe, let’s sneak out whilst the boneheads are still busy.”
“Alright team, everyone sticks together. Way out is right around the corn-“ Cole suddenly came face to face with Samukai. All Kai could think at that moment was Fuck the blue guy. Because seriously. Now he was going to have to fight these guys. And alright, honestly- Kai was more than happy to throw hands with the skeletons that captured his sister. In fact, he’s been waiting all week to do so. But come on, this guy was supposed to be a ninja? Pulling out his sword, Kai stayed in the middle of his teammates for a bit as they tried their hardest to protect the Scythe, but quickly they were drawn by enemies elsewhere and the red ninja was left in a precarious situation.
“Kai! Throw it here!” Thank god for Zane. Honestly, he took back what he said about how this guy takes things a bit too seriously, now that he was in the heat of battle and could feel every beat of his heart. Kai heaved the heavy weapon to Zane. Immediately, the heat was taken off him and Zane had to pass the Scythe to Cole as he was dog-piled by 3 Skulkin in seconds. Cole made it past a long line of skeletons before catching the Golden Weapon, but Kai could see 5 to 6. no, 9, 10- argh, who cares! Either way, there were too many enemies.
“Let me handle it!” Jay shouted, taking out a couple of enemies quickly, before exclaiming, “Hey! Guys!”
“It’s just like the training course! Over the planks, dodge the swords- here comes the dummy!”
Kai heard multiple enemies being defeated before a bright blue light shined through the caverns as this guy did spinjitzu. What. The. Heck. Kai’s level of respect for him instantly rose.
“Jay! What’s the key?” Kai waved at his teammate desperately. He had to do spinjitzu too- if he ever was going to see Nya again.
“Hehe, I’m just going through the motions! This is what Sensei must have meant when he said we already know it!” Jay laughed from inside his tornado as Kai watch him take down 4 enemies in one second. Kai contemplated this for a moment, before relying on his muscle memory to dodge a couple of Skulkin.
“Over the planks, dodge the swords- here comes the dummy!” Spinning in a beautiful vortex of red, orange, and yellow, Kai saw the world around him slow down as he moved with enhanced power and agility, taking down enemies with incredible ease.
“RETREAT!” Samurai shouted, and Kai could hear the screams of the skeleton army mixing with the beautiful chime of his team’s spinjitzu. Slowing down, Kai stopped his spinjitzu and surprisingly, didn’t feel dizzy. Man, this spinjitzu thing is really cool.
“Hah! Guess they didn’t want a second serving of these babies,” Cole flexed his biceps as Kai and Jay both shook their heads in dismay. “Good thing they didn’t check out the merchandise on the back!”
From the corner of his eye, Kai watched as Cole turned around to emphasise his point. Alright, 2 can play at the end game. Raising the Golden Weapon of Spinjitsu, Kai cheered and high fives Jay. That dude has many faults, but he would be able to have Kai’s back in a moment of need, and Kai vows to watch his back too.
“Uh… guys?” Cole stammered. Kai and Jay rolled their eyes. What was Cole trying to get at now?
“Didn’t Sensei say there was a guardian protecting the weapons?” Zane recalled. Kai tilted his head to the side, before turning to his right AND WHAT IN THE WORLD IS THAT.
“Is that- a..a, that’s- not what I think it is, isit?” Cole blubbered, his voice an octave higher.
“Y-you mean a dragon?” Jay stammered.
“Uh, that sure looks like a dragon!” Kai panicked, his voice on the edge of a scream.
“I sense that we won’t be able to spin our way out of this one,” Zane stated with the calmest out of any of them.
Out of the blue, the dragon breathed out a breath of earth, and Kai was suddenly flung to the side. Screams filled the cavern as his teammates landed from their dodge. getting up on his feet, Kai immediately started to run towards the exit, clutching the Golden Weapon tightly. Unfortunately, they were cornered, and Kai did the only thing he thought he could.
Removing the canvas, Kai moved to use the weapon but was stopped by Jay, stating something about how Sensei told them not to.
“Well you better keep your mouth shut,” Kai growled as he ran towards the otherworldly creature. Nothing was going to stand in his way from reaching his sister. Cole shouted something at him, but he raised the weapon high above his head and brought it down to the earth in front of the dragon, causing a split in the ground like a fault line and the cave started to shake. The dragon was temporarily rendered stunned as a large piece of rock fell on his head. It reacted too late, for Kai and his team were getting out of here.
“We gotta escape!” Kai said frantically. Looking up, he and his team saw the caverns opening up to the skies. “We’ll use spinjitzu!” Cole proclaimed, and Kai spun into his tornado, finding that the boost in speed and strength was exactly what he needed to make through the opening in the ceiling of the cave.
Landing on the ground in front of his sensei (on both feet, take that Zane and Jay!) Kai immediately devolved into cheering and celebrating with his teammates, because who wouldn’t after such an adrenaline high? They were 1 weapon closer to finding Nya, and Kai had learned the amazing art of Spinjitsu, and he had just escaped from a dragon.
“ENOUGH!” Sensei Wu shouted. Kai immediately felt his mood sinking. “I told you not to use the scythe!!” Of course, Jay, then Cole, immediately threw Kai under the bus.
“Using it was my only option!” Kai said, starting to get frustrated with his teacher and teammates. Couldn’t they see it that was a matter of life or death? He just saved all of their sorry asses!
“And what makes you think that you’re more important than your team? Huh? Huh!?” Wu got closer to Kai’s face, and he was not happy. Not happy with this at all.
“They took my sister, remember?” Kai stated angrily. Who did the old man think he was? Nya was everything to him, and losing her- Kai did not want to think about losing her.
“There are still 3 weapons left. Maybe next time, you can do it right,” Wu admonished him, and Kai could only watch as his teammates follow in their master’s footsteps. Whatever. It’s not like he needed a team. Hoisting the scythe onto his shoulders, Kai swore that nothing, not even the First Spinjitsu himself, would stop him from saving Nya.
Over the course of the next few days, Kai learned of a technique called the ‘Tornado of Creation’ as they journeyed all over north Ninjago and found 2 of the remaining 3 weapons. Just before they headed to the Fire Temple, Wu made them all rest, for some reason he was unwiring to share. Kai privately thought that it was for them to recuperate their energy because his sister was going to be the one they rescue next, and once he got his hands on the Sword of Fire, nothing would be able to stand in his way, his team included. If he was being honest with himself, Kai was grateful that they had time to celebrate his past achievements. They had been through so much climbing, exploring, and journeying these fast few days and they have beaten Garmadon’s Army too many times to not do something about it. His mood was so great that he even invited Sensei Wu to dance with them as Cole played the bongo drums that they had stolen from the skeleton army at one point.
Kai didn’t know when he fell asleep, but what he did know was that he was roused awake by a voice whispering his name. At first, he was groggy with exhaustion, but the second time Nya called out to him, Kai was wide awake. Looking at the source of the sound, Kai saw his sister standing directly at the edge of his camp. Immediately, Kai felt a great wave of relief wash over him. His sister looked, at least in the dark, fine and free from any visible injuries. He was just about to get up and reunite with his sister when she suddenly stated that she had to go, and started to run away from him.
Kai immediately shot to his feet, alarmed. There was definitely something wrong. He followed her as best as he could through the dense forest, calling out to her, but not receiving a reply. He was led to a temple sitting right next to a volcano. Ghostly whispers of his name reached him as he saw his sister’s vague figure entering the temple.
“Nya?” In a heartbeat, he arrived at the front of the temple. Fully pushing open the doors, Kai was blown away by the cavern and the inviting, welcoming warmth of the lava that slowly cranked up the further he went. In fact, it was slowly stifling, and Kai wanted to grab Nya and get out as fast as he could. Looking all over the place for her, Kai saw the image of his sister appear right in front of the Sword of Fire.
“Nya!” Kai said with a smile, running towards the platform. He was praising FSM for this miracle when suddenly, he skidded to a halt as Nya transformed into a large shadow that laughed menacingly. It was Garmadon. And he- was dangling Nya, wrapped in iron chains, on top of a pool of lava.
“KAI!!” Nya shouted desperately. The red ninja called back to his sister, as Garmadon taunted him, stating that only by removing the sword, could he save his sister. And as much as Kai hated the fact- Garmadon was right. There was nothing he could do but take the sword and save his sister. Nya begged Kai not to listen, but the chain had suddenly lowered her even more, and the screams of his baby sister were too much for Kai to bear. Taking a deep breath, Kai did a series of acrobatics pulling out the Sword of Fire and doing spinjitzu on the walls in order to get to Nya, and then to get her to safety on the other side. Landing o the warm rock, Kai pulled his sister up and told her to stay close.
Then Garmadon appeared directly in front of him, and Kai changed his mind. Not long after, he was getting beat up by a shadow- a shadow of all things! Then, Garmadon played extremely dirty and duplicated himself, and in no time at all, Kai lost the sword and Garmadon picked it up. Tired, out of breath, and running on a combined 18 hours of sleep this past week and a half, Kai collapsed and couldn’t move any further.
Just in time, Sensei Wu arrived and started to use his shadow to properly fight Garmadon. As Kai could only sit and watch, he saw Sensei Wu’s incredible usage of shadows, and his respect for him rose even more. But soon, the feeling of calmness turned into panic as he remembered his 3 teammates who were probably out like a light.
Nya gave Kai a hand to stand up, and they both moved to be closer to Wu. Soon, they were assaulted by Garmadon showing them that the Skulkin has taken Kai’s brothers and 3 of the 4 Golden Weapons.
“My brother must not unite the 4 weapons. We must keep them apart!” Sensei Wu commanded, to which Garmadon responded by rousing the dragon guardian. With a swipe of its flaming hot tail, the Fire Dragon blocked the entrance of the Fire Temple. There was no way out.
“He’s taken away all our options!” Kai said, starting to panic even more as the Fire Dragon breathed on them.
“All but one.” And soon, Kai lost his Sensei to the Underworld. Feeling terribly guilty for not being a better student and teammate, Kai collapsed on his knees. However, he was soon confronted with greater, immediate danger.
Luckily, he seemed to be able to talk down the dragon that was guarding the sword. They reached an understanding that they were trying to protect the weapons from Garmadon, and just in time too. He heard his teammates outside the temple and Flare did too, opening the temple dramatically. Too soon, he had to split from Nya again. But he would return in no time at all, with all members on his team.
Through a great load of traveling by dragon, managing to use the Tornado of Creation, and watching Samurai get vaporised whilst Garmadon passed into a portal to another realm, they eventually returned to Ignacia, and Kai could finally feel safe again. Of course, he immediately slept for 3 days straight after making sure that Nya was doing alright and that she could take care of herself for the next few days.
This was not the first time he was fuelled by only his fire, and unfortunately for his body- it would not be the last.
- Lloyd - The next time that Kai could say with 100% certainty that he hated the universe was when Garmadon decided that it was a good idea to turn them into all children. They then had to be saved by Lloyd, his baby brother, but in return- he had grown. Too fast. Way too fast.
And Kai had to look at his failure, his inability to protect Lloyd because it falls on his shoulder to at least stay beside the green bean whilst he deals with the fact that he was older now. And whatever fallout was happening with his body. Because whilst Lloyd can try to insist that he’s fine for the 100th time, Kai is not letting him get out of bed whilst he has a 40 degree fever.
So whilst Kai stews angrily at the edge of Lloyd’s bed, he reflects on all the things he’s going to punch the First Spinjitsu Master for. Honestly, he did not know where the thought came from, but today was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
Kai will be honest- he hadn’t always been this friendly with Lloyd. In fact, if he saw someone else doing what he did to the kid when they first met, he would sock them in the eye, no questions asked. (In fact, he wanted to do that to himself now.) But then he got close to the brat. He saw himself in the kid, just- lost without an anchor as Kai had in Nya. And the ‘demon spawn’ became ‘kid’, and ‘kid’ became Kai’s baby brother. Kai’s baby brother who he lost at the arcade just because he was too focused on his ego, going after the damned Samurai who turned out to be his baby sister. Seems like Kai can’t do much protecting at all.
After Kai had rescued Lloyd from the volcano (Fuck you Pythor), it was revealed that Lloyd was the Green Ninja, and would, in turn, have to fight Garmadon And whilst at first Kai felt elated that the search for the Green Ninja was long over, he then felt horrible to see Garmadon and Lloyd falling out as both knew that they had to fight each other. Kai could see Lloyd’s lip tremble as his father released the hug, and almost start to cry when Garmadon disappeared after having saved the Ninja and the fang blades.
He knew that Lloyd had it especially hard, seeking his father’s approval and attention, yet not getting it as Garmadon tried his hardest to delay the oncoming final battle, but furthered it instead. He saw Lloyd look incredibly small in their tiny apartment, and wished that he had just earned more money, or that he had somehow managed to defeat the Great devourer instead of Garmadon.
Yet all he could do was comfort Lloyd when he opens up about Darkley’s (boy, wasn’t that’s something they’d have to unpack in the future) before they returned to the accursed school, or treat Lloyd’s sore muscles before the kid has to inevitably wake up at 5 AM tomorrow to do an insane amount of training.
He hates how all the pressure in the world is hoisted by the shoulders of his baby brother, and he would do anything, anything to give Lloyd a good childhood.
Now, he can’t even do that. Unless the element of time exists, all he could do was count the numbers of a good childhood Lloyd had on one hand. And goddamnit. All Kai really wanted to do was to give Lloyd the childhood didn’t have, not the incomplete one he had given Nya that ended with a kidnapping. Was that too much to ask for?
A drop of a hot tear escaped Kai’s eyes and rolled down his cheek. Quickly snapping his head towards Lloyd, he saw that he’s fallen asleep. Okay, thank FSM for that. Kai did not want Lloyd to see his big brother cry. Now, Kai didn’t want to be a bad brother. But he wasn’t Lloyd’s only family left. He’ll just ask Zane to watch over him as he runs the training course at Dareth’s dojo.
Or maybe not, Kai thought as he sat on the roof, hidden by water tanks and billboards as he had a meltdown. He didn’t even know why he was crying! All he knows is that suddenly, he can’t stop the water flowing from his eyes, even as his own body heat evaporates them as soon as they are shed. His head was still stuffy even though the night air breezed past him. All he wanted to do was to shout, screen- anything to release the tension he’s been building up in his body. Now that he’s reached his breaking point, he was ready to release like a coiled spring.
But he couldn’t. They were living in the midst of Ninjago city, not on the Destiny’s Bounty. And they would get kicked out of their cramped apartment if Kai just shouted at the night skies. So Kai hissed, growled, and wrapped his hands around himself, and squeezed as much as he could. He wanted to fight anybody, be it serpentine, skulkin, Garmadon, or even the First Spinjitsu Master himself.
The air around him got even more suffocating as his fist couldn’t find anything to connect to.
And suddenly, the roof hatch opened suddenly, scaring the living hell out of Kai Smith. Jumping into action and getting into a ready stance, Kai immediately felt the tension dissipate as it revealed that it was just Cole.
“Wow Kai, you must be really wounded up to be spooked like that,” Cole commented whilst giving Kai a smirk. Kai glared back at his team leader before futilely trying to wipe his face clean. Ah well. He tried. Cole snorted. “I always knew that you were a big softy.”
“Got any reason why you came up here?” Kai grunted. His ego had taken enough bruising these past few weeks.
“Of course buddy. I needed to spar with someone at full strength, and since Zane is looking after Lloyd and Jay won’t be able to effectively take my hits, I had to find you.”
“Psh, whatever. You’re in luck that I need to let off some heat too,” Kai shrugged off.
“Cool. Race you to Dareth’s Dojo?”  “You’re on.”
In a few minutes, Kai would come to regret his decision. Hey, it wasn’t his idea to race with the idiot who got himself dehydrated via crying. Still, falling in only just a step behind Cole (It’s been 80 years, Coke joked), he grabbed the energy drink Cole held out to him and take an unprofessionally huge gulp. Man, was he going to feel that later. Still, a promise was a promise, even if it was a verbal agreement. He watched Cole do his warm-up stretches before settling into his own normal routine.
Too soon, they rolled out the sparring mats, and Kai had a fleeting feeling of vertigo. Why had he agreed to this again? Oh yeah. Lloyd’s life is shit, and I can’t do anything. Balling his fists tightly, he started to bounce from on the balls of his feet.
Too soon, he ended up on the mat. And then again. And again. When he was defeated for the 4th time, Cole called for a break and sat down next to Kai, who was lying on the mat and just staring straight into the sky.
“Why did destiny make him grow up so fast?” Kai’s voice was trembling too hard for even Cole’s liking. “It’s not your fault-“
“IT IS MY FAULT! My fault, that I couldn’t protect him! Not from the serpentine, not from Garmadon, not from destiny!What’s my worth as a protector if I can’t even defend the one destiny said I must?!” Kai wailed out, enraged with everything. After his anger outburst, Kai breathed out deeply as his whole body sagged, the tension broken. They sat in silence as Kai contemplated what he was going to do next.
“You know Kai? Maybe you should talk with the Green Bean about this. But just so you know, no one is blaming you for what Garmadon had to do, and in turn what Lloyd had to do in order to save all of us,” Cole responded and stood up. “Thank you anyways for agreeing to spar with me.”
He offered a hand, to which Kai grabbed and was pulled upright.
“You go ahead. I’ll go wipe down the mats here,” Cole stated. It was a regular schedule that they had made up in order to reduce the amount of traffic using their tiny bathroom, and Kai gratefully accepted the chance to go first. If he was going to talk to Lloyd, he had to at least get his spikes up to regular Kai standard.
After doing the bare minimum amount of cool-down stretches, Kai took a swig of the energy drink as he jogged back home. After showering and gelling up his hair, Kai was ready to sit down with Lloyd and just- talk. He finished his bottle and prepared some sandwiches as the sun rose on Ninjago City, showering the apartment in fragmented light.
Just on time, Lloyd returned from his morning run, this time accompanied by Zane. Kai patiently waited for him to be done with his shower before Lloyd sat down right beside him and took out a peanut butter and jam sandwich from the small pile on the plate. Zane gave Kai an acknowledging nod as he went to grab his work bag before going back out the door.
“Hey, bud. How’re you doing?” Kai started tentatively. Lloyd, having just taken a huge bite of the pb&j, looked mildly alarmed at the confrontation, but still answered after finishing the bite.
“…honestly Kai? My bones don’t feel on fire anymore and Zane has said that my fever had gone down through the night. Still, I don’t regret what I had done,” Lloyd responded earnestly before taking another bite of the bread. If Kai didn’tknow better he would have thought that the kid had faced starvation before, because he was still eating as if the food could be taken away at any moment. Keyword: thought.
Kai really wanted to continue the talk after Lloyd had his fill, but knew that Lloyd’s busy schedule didn’t allow for such talks. So, he pushed down all the instincts that screamed that he was a bad brother and gritted his teeth.
“I know that that wasn’t your choice-“
“It was my choice!” Lloyd cut in even though he was still chewing. Gulping down another mouthful of food, Lloyd continued. “… because if I couldn’t even consider that my choice, how much of my life can I say that belongs to me?”
Kai was stunned into silence. In his mind, he didn’t think that Lloyd had thought of throwing the tea like that. He wondered how much Lloyd had been holding in inside of him, how much he had to endure being told by people that he hadn’t had a choice. Thinking back to the time where he couldn’t save Nya without listening to others on what he had to do, Kai felt even worse. Cole was right- he wasn’t at fault for this specific action that Lloyd did, but he was at fault for not being understanding enough, or even approachable enough.
Taking advantage of Kai’s speechlessness, Lloyd finished up his sandwich before reaching into the pile and taking out another, this time picking out a Nutella and cheese combination.
“It’s not just that. Now, I can finally go on missions with you guys. Now, you guys don’t have to hold back on me, and I can train for longer amounts of time. The Final Battle will be on us whether we’re ready or not, and I too would feel much safer if I am prepared to… to face my father,” Lloyd said before continuing to stuff his face with breakfast.
Kai’s brain began to work again, and he formulated a good enough response. “…Alright buddy, but just so you know, you’re still not going on missions with us.” Lloyd’s face immediately formed a pout and Kai grinned, rubbing his blonde hair. “Also, since when did you start speaking like that? ‘The Final Battle will be on us whether we’re ready or not.' Wow, such language. Much eloquence.”
“That’s because you guys gave me 2 hours to spend studying Uncle Wu’s books every day,” Lloyd huffed in annoyance, having finished another mouthful of bread. “But seriously Kai, please don’t be angry for me. It really isn’t your fault.”
Kai mused over those words as he watched Jay trained Lloyd with his acrobatic abilities. Of course, the kid was still getting used to his taller and larger limbs, but Kai could see him improve at an incredibly fast rate. Lloyd was right, in a sense. He didn’t really have the legal right to worry over Lloyd’s physical and mental wellness, but still- he was Kai. Master of Fire, protector of the Green Ninja, and he should be allowed to feel the fuel of his anger at any time he so pleases. If it happens to be an injustice to his trainee and well- who can blame him?
He accidentally fell asleep during Lloyd and Jay’s training, having to catch up to last night’s lost sleep, and boy was that a bad idea. He forgot one of the most important rules within the Ninja’s family: Do not fall asleep when with Lloyd and Jay, because those two can pull some terrible pranks.
Kai didn’t notice anything wrong until he passed Dareth’s trophies and saw that his beautiful hair was not spiked. Kai swore that when he sees those two again, he would chase after them until they begged for mercy because Kai cannot be seen in public with hair like this! Feeling his eye twitch, Kai wondered if Lloyd was going to be the cause of him popping a blood vessel.
Years later, Kai would realise that indeed, Lloyd would give him his first grey hair at 19. That damned brat.
- Zane - When Zane… left the team, all Kai could feel was a sense of numbness. He floated through a fuzzy reality as nothing seemed real to him anymore. His family was in shambles, broken pieces that were scattered without their missing piece completing them. The fact that Zane was gone didn’t really register to him until they had asked Lloyd to do a speech honouring the titanium ninja. Lloyd, face as pale as the gi Zane used to wear, couldn’t say any words, so he volunteered to step up for his brother. Lloyd looked at him with thanks, before disappearing off to whatever world he was in just moments before. Kai joined him, staring aimlessly at their ceiling, before having to get up and pen down words that he was going to say, to honour Zane.
He realised that he couldn’t, really couldn’t. The words just wouldn’t come out of his ink pen, even though he was pretty much literate now. He could only manage to jot down a few words that summarised what Zane was to him. A brother. A teammate. A fellow Ninja. Built to protect those who cannot protect themselves. But words can't do Zane justice. How could he capture Zane's cool-like grace, his calm calculation when it matters most? Zane's amazing cooking, his incredible kindness, and all-around sweet nature? How could he describe his first time meeting him, first time working with him, when he discovered his true potential and saved all of their sorry asses? How could he do all that?
Hot, angry tears dribbled down from Kai’s eyes as he hunched over their kitchen table. No, this wasn’t going to do. Kai decides that he'll just have to wing it.
As soon as he had finished his speech and paid proper respect to Zane, Kai left his family and just wandered around aimlessly, going from bar to bar to drink and inevitably get into fights.
Having been thrown out of almost all bars in Ninjago city for ‘disrupting common services’, whatever that was supposed to mean, Kai soon found himself standing in front of Yang’s Tavern. From what he heard, this place was run by quite a few Serpentine and they had a ‘Slither Pit’. Whatever that meant. What Kai needed to do was to feel his fist connect to something flesh-like, and he will be okay.
Months passed, as Kai found himself falling deeper and deeper into Ninjago’s criminal organisations. Under the name ‘The Red Shogun’, he would remain the undefeated champion, all whilst working for different kinds of bosses as ‘security’. Kai knew that he shouldn’t be doing this, that he shouldn’t be helping criminals get away with their criminal activity, shouldn’t have let human merchandise go under his nose. But he couldn’t bring himself to care. Nothing really mattered after Zane’s death. Nothing had mattered at all. Kai was stuck down in the pits of hell, drinking himself to half-death before the barkeep regulated his intake just so that he could bring in the cash that Kai made through betting, before receiving poor attempts to reach out by Lloyd.
Somehow, the kid had gotten the number of his burner phone. He even sent mail to the bar, to which Kai and his bar buddies had laughed at. Kai didn’t feel too bad for ignoring the kid. Zane’s death was partially his fault anyways. (Nromal Kai would have been horrified to hear him think this.) Kai was angry. Angry that Lloyd didn’t try hard enough. Didn’t try hard enough to defeat the Overlord, when he had a clear shot. Angry that Lloyd had apparently failed to defeat the Overlord 100%. Angry that he had been captured whilst literally wielding the power of God, only for the Overlord to use its incredible power to construct a new body. Angry that Lloyd didn’t try hard enough to keep the team together, to reach out to him, or even to speak at Zane’s funeral.
But above all, Kai was angry at himself. Angry that he had made fun of Zane for his passions and clothes. Angry that he did not try hard enough to train Lloyd, and ultimately failed to be with him in the ‘Final’ battle. Angry that he couldn’t have done his job as a ninja properly, getting captured and tied to a rocket ship which only made them have to try rescuing him instead of stopping Project Arcturus. Angry that he couldn’t do anything when Zane took on the Overlord by himself again.
And Kai was angry at Ninjago. At the world. At the universe. At the First Spinjitsu Master, who had no right to decide that his family had to face the world like that. Angry, and wondering why he was being put through this kind of torture: not being able to live, and yet not willing to die. Kai was a man of action and he had to stay in motion- so his knuckles split. So he goes ‘home’, to the hotel room in Yang’s Tavern, covered in bruises and sometimes even blood- just not his. So he has to take part in crimes, never rising above the level of a security guard, all whilst feeling terrible. He did not know how to get out of this state and feared that if he did, he would collapse into a lump of uselessness.
He fought all day and night, and in the moments where he wasn’t fighting, he was drinking. His sleeping schedule has shifted to between 6 AM and 2 PM. All whilst he kept grieving over a death that was not deserved.
After a year, Lloyd somehow inexplicably showed up on his doorstep, telling Kai to not drink too much ‘juice’ (he rolled his eyes at that and smiled fondly at Lloyd’s innocence) and asked him to show up at Chen’s noodle house where he was holding a meeting with his other teammates.
Unexpectedly, this led to a discovery that instantly brightened Kai’s mood before dampening it slightly. Zane was alive! But they had to fight through… an elemental tournament to get him? At this point in time, Kai was alright with doing anything, anything to get Zane back.
Just 2 weeks later, Kai would hesitantly retract his statement. Sure, they had gotten Zane back, but in exchange, Lloyd had to lose Garmadon to the Cursed Realm. Kai wonders if they’ll ever be able to make it through a fight with everyone intact, but today wasn’t about him. He felt a familiar spark of rage burning brightly through his chest as he watched Lloyd trying and failing to smile. From the corner of his eye, he saw Zane approaching him.
“Kai, can we talk for a moment?” Oh, dear. What is this about now? Was it about how Kai had almost killed their baby brother over a stupid staff?  Or the fact that Kai had very stupidly fallen for the Criminal Mastermind’s daughter? Did Zane find out about his criminal activity?
Well, it wasn’t everything that Kai had thought would happen, although the topic had come stupidly close to the last point. Zane confronted him, making him open up about his ‘feelings’ or whatever, before telling Kai that the alcohol content in his body was too high and that his livers were on the edge of failing. Well. Good to know that Zane is still regular old Zane who’d scan you without permission.
“Kai, all I’m saying is that you are free to tell me anything. To just let it all out -“
“I can’t let it all out!” Kai shouted in annoyance. What did Zane know about grieving- Oh wait. Doctor Julien. Well, what did Zane know about Kai’s specific method of dealing with his issues? He was fine.
“Why not, Kai?” Zane asked with a bittersweet smile. Kai looked around, desperately searching for an answer that he doesn’t have.
“Well- I can’t tell you that! Just know that it’s okay for me to feel angry!” Kai stated very, very eloquently. Zane just gave him a look that said ‘bullshit’. “It’s also okay for you to be sad, and to cry.”
“You’re-you’re wrong!”
“And you’re a hypocrite, Kai. You can’t make Lloyd do the right choices if you aren’t gonna do them yourself.”
“Well- Lloyd’s just a child! A teenager at best, really. Me? I’m a fully legal adult! I can make my own decisions!” Kai seethed. Zane looked sad for a moment, before straightening up and doubling down.
“Whilst according to Mill’s Harm Principle, you’re free to do anything that could harm yourself without damaging others, might I remind you that you’re still a role model for Lloyd, Nya, and even Jay? Please, Kai. If you can’t do it for yourself, at least do it for them.” Zane pleaded. And damn it. Whilst Kai wouldn’t lift a finger to save himself, just the thought of Lloyd doing what he’s done sent a shiver down his spine. Zane was right, as always. He had to be the big brother, and being the older brother means that he has to display healthy habits more. FSM knows that Lloyd would need it. So he sucked up his pride, arrogance, and ego, then threw it all away, metaphorically off the Bounty
He knew that they would always come creeping back to him later, but for now, Lloyd needed a functional older brother, and Kai was going to be exactly what he needs.
“Thank you, Zane,” Kai stated. Grinning, Zane waved Kai on to go save Lloyd, who now looked like he was drowning from some invisible force.
“Lloyd? Lloyd buddy, you there?”
- Cole - Of course, Kai couldn’t stop his blood pressure from reaching a boiling point. How could he? This month had been the worst month for his health since- well, since forever! Who would’ve thought that Wu’s dead first student would escape the Cursed Realm just to possess Lloyd in order to exact an act of stupid, grand revenge because he didn’t get the title of the Green Ninja?
Kai had to fight his baby brother, lose the staff of the First Spinjitsu Master, fail to defeat ghosts, bargain with a stupidcrook for some weapons that were actually effective to ghosts all whilst looking for the scroll of Airjitzu, who guess what? Turns out Ronin had it all along. And he had just handed it to Morro, which caused all of them to go to this cursedtemple, which was designed to be a terribly haunted house, because it just amplified Kai’s fear of water a 100 times more, and all that culminated in a stupid idea where they tied themselves together to not lose track of the other, which caused Cole to lose valuable time when the scroll of Airjitzu was dropped right as they were at the door to the temple.
Spinning around to check on his teammates, he saw a pale green sheen. Just as he was about to raise his weapon, he heard Cole’s voice calling out to them that they had the scroll. And oh. Oh no. No, Kai couldn’t deal with this anymore. He watched Cole realise with horror that now, he was technically dead, and wail.
Kai’s blood vessels were very, very close to popping. Being an alcoholic had not helped with his anger issues, and having faced too many setbacks, all whilst not having any powers or any victories, Kai was prepared to curse the entire 16 realms.
As Nya parked the bounty right next to the floating temple of Airjitzu, Kai could see her face widen in shock and horror at Cole. Fists clenched the tightest they had been in a while (and that was saying something, given that he had failed to protect Lloyd again) Kai could only take over the lead as he herded his teammates onboard the ship.
Cole’s a ghost now. So what? He can deal with that later. For now, they had to beat Morro to the Cloud Kingdom and the Realm crystal if he was going to have any chance of having Lloyd back.
Well, that was a lie, Kai thought to himself after the heat of the moment. Their ship was now charted towards the Wailing Alps, trying to make it as the Blind Man’s Eye passed over the top so that they may use Airjitzu to get the Sword of Sanctuary. And that meant they had time. Whilst Zane and Jay were working on some mechs to help them traverse the mountains, Nya was training with Sensei Wu to unlock her true potential faster, and Misako was packing them supplies. That meant that Kai and Cole were left in the bow of the ship. The air just felt denser than usual, even though by all logic, it should have been lighter due to their high altitude.
Kai watched Cole trying to tap a button on the control board, but couldn’t manage to get his hands to temporarily appear solid. He saw the frustration on Cole’s face grow as he gave up and slammed his hand on the board, accidentally touching on several buttons. Immediately the ship started to list onto the left side. So bracing himself Kai rushed to the position and immediately undid the damage Cole had done.
Cole then let out a scream of frustration. “All I wanted to do was to view the stupid GPS! Why. Can’t. I. Do. Anything. Right?” Cole angrily shouted, punctuating each word with a kick aimed towards the control panel, but never managing to connect. He immediately sunk onto the floor and held his face in his hands.
Kai sucked in air through his teeth. He wasn’t everyone’s go-to when comforting them from anger, but it seems that he had to step up this time.
“Hey, Cole?” Kai started gently. “Yeah?” Came a muffled response.
“I know that I’m not the best person to do this, but I just want you to know that I hate the universe as much as you do, and it’s alright if you wanna just shout and spar with me-“
“Hah! As if I can do anything good with this. Stupid. Body!” Cole replied, voice tense with frustration. Kai frowned.
“I’m serious Cole. And you will get better at using this body. Remember how Morro’s ghost friends had beaten us? Imagine them, not realising that we actually have a pretty powerful member right in their midst. Think of the recon missions you can do as a ghost! Imagine how satisfying it would be to just punch Morro in the nose without feeling bad for hurting Lloyd!” Kai picked a direction and resigned himself to it, smile getting more manic as he realised that hey! Cole’s new body is actually kinda cool. Cole snorted.
“Imagine all the pranks I’ll be able to pull on Jay. And imagine me possessing Mr. Cuddlywump-“ Both of them dissolved into laughter after this thought, each imagining Jay’s terrified expression as Cole’s voice comes out of the teddy bear that he thinks nobody knows he hugs every night.
“Hey- you know that being a ghost would be incredible for your stealth right?” Kai ribbed Cole gently, finding delight that it actually connected. Cole scoffed. “Oh, don’t remind me Mr-I-blew-up-2-trucks-filled-with-jet-fuel-and-thought-that-I-wouldn’t-be-noticed.”
“Hey! It was just one time.” Kai defended himself. “Seriously though, imagine all the cool shit you can do now.”
“Too bad that I won’t be able to eat anymore,” Cole said mournfully. Kai raised his eyebrow. “Nah, this just means that you can eat as much as you want and wouldn’t be scolded by Sensei Wu. Also, don’t we have Hungry Ghost Month right before Day of the Departed?”
“Holy shit, Kai. You’re right! You know, maybe being a ghost isn’t so bad after all,” Cole said with a hearty grin. With a grin of his own, Kai thought to himself that really, being a ghost is no big deal. We have a nindroid as a brother after all! Besides, at least Cole is still with us in, heh, spirit.
Too late did Kai consider the cons of being a ghost. As Cole watched helplessly from the banks of the river that Lloyd was drowning in, Kai had to bite his own tongue to stop himself from screaming as he plunged into the water to save Lloyd from drowning. Too late, after the defeat of the Preeminent, did he see Lloyd flinching from Cole’s touch, which led to a very heartbroken Cole and an extremely apologetic Lloyd. He saw Lloyd trying his best to just endure and adapt to the change, and his heart was filled with anger again.
It wasn’t as bad as his breaking point at Yang’s temple, but he now has a grudge against Morro that runs through the core of his being, like how ‘Nya is my Sister’ and ‘Lloyd is my baby brother’ are the code of his being. Still, victory tasted bittersweet as he gets to finally pat the golden head of hair his brother has.
Kai would be okay to go through anything, as long as he had his family with him.
- - Jay - Family. That’s what Kai’s life has circled back into, hasn’t it? He had fought skeleton armies for his sisters, fought snakes with his brothers, trained the youngest to fight the literal embodiment of evil, went through an entire tournament for one of his brothers, fought with Wu’s student to save Lloyd, and now destiny decides for him to face another whiplash.
His parents. His good-for-nothing parents. They had left Kai when he was 6 and Nya when she was just 3. It had been absolute hell, making sure that they had enough to eat, enough to drink, and enough to wear during the winter. Kai had to start working at the blacksmith shop when he was just 8, trying to find some independence from the goodwill of his neighbours. And whilst he was working odd jobs, being a stable boy, an errand boy, doing some house chores for the minimum wage- he also had to make sure that his baby sister could attend school properly.
He had properly started to work at the forge when he was 12, having sold most of his father’s previous work. Soon, he found ease in making spear tips, armour, and samurai-style helmets. He had been working on doing a good sword when his sister was kidnapped, and his entire life changed as he tried his hardest to bring her back. Since then, he hadn’t gone back to his old home in Ignacia.
But he couldn’t ignore it anymore.
Looking at the smithing symbol on the inside of the Vermillion Warrior’s helmet, Kai had to take a quick journey back to his old home, back into his past. Picking up a decade-old helmet, Kai’s worst fears were confirmed.
“I knew it,” Kai said humourlessly as the puzzle pieces began to construct a monstrosity that he never wanted to know. In a fit of anger, he punched his father’s symbol, to which a secret hatch just suddenly opened. Curious, Kai took a look at the basement of the shop, only to see a double-edged blade as well as some old armour. What was he making? Kai wondered, before shaking his head. It doesn’t matter now.
With single-minded determination, Kai took the blade, old, and a new helmet, then immediately headed to someone who he knows would understand.
10 minutes later, Kai was sitting at a booth in Chen’s Noodle House, venting out all his frustrations to Skylor, who, bless her, had offered him free noodles as he spilled out his feelings. Of course, Kai didn’t feel much better after doing so, but at least he felt like he wasn’t suffocating anymore. Just as Kai was summarising his rant, incomes Nya, proclaiming something about how Skylor was the mysterious and new Samurai X. Kai’s stomach suddenly started to churn and he gulped. He had to break the news that their parents were still alive to Nya. And whilst that was mean, what Kai learned throughout his years as being a Ninja that being honest with your teammates was the difference between life and death. Funny, he remembered a weird dream that was focused on this exact point. But Kai didn’t have time to reminisce now. All he could do was think of ways of breaking the news to Nya.
Too soon, Kai Smith, no not Smith, Kai had to think of a better surname after this was all over. Anyways, their team has decided upon infiltrating Krux and Acronix’s secret base, which also meant that they will find his traitorous father. Instantly, he felt a searing hot pain radiate from within his ribcage. teeth clenched, fists tightened, he and Nya arrived at the swamp.
He had a single-minded focus on finding his parents and nothing could stop him.
“Kai, I don’t see anything. Give me the map,” Nya whispered. “Hmmm, what even makes you think that Acronix and Krux will be around here?”
“I honestly don’t even care if they are,” Kai said noncommittally and looked around his surroundings. In the distance, he saw a building, right where the blacksmith shop was situated on the map. Heart pounding, he raced up the planks leading up the shop.
Kai was in too deep to stop now, to have second thoughts. Seeing his father’s blacksmith symbol on the door, builds up his resolve to kick the door open.
“I knew it!” anger, like how lava flows down a volcano, seeped into his bones as his father stared at him like he was some kind of stranger. In all fairness, he was. Because what kind of ‘father’ was Ray Smith for abandoning Nya, for abandoning him, all those years ago?
“Who are you? What do you want?” Those words cut deeply into Kai’s heart, etching all kinds of feelings that Kai couldn’t process. Because all he could see. Was red.
“I WANT JUSTICE!” With a war cry, Kai drew out the double-edged blade that his father had watched. But this time, he wasn’t fighting to disarm, to defeat, or to stun. He was fighting to kill.
Running towards the blacksmith, Kai jumped to plunge the blade into his father’s chest, only for him to dodge, Raising another strike, he missed and hit the edge of the forge. Spinning around, his next shot was parried by his father.
Blocked by his father again, Kai gave his old man a chance to explain himself. But what was said was, “You’re red like a Vermillion Warrior. But you’re no snake.”
“No, I’m not, BUT YOU ARE! TRAITOR!!” Kai broke out of his father’s block, spinning the weapon before clashing it with his father’s hammer again. His next few strikes were dodged and a kick sent Kai sprawling over the anvil. Getting up again, Kai swung the weapon wildly, getting dodged before being thrown back by a well-timed shot from his father.
“You messed with the wrong blacksmith, my friend,” Ray said, standing over Kai’s body. hearing those words sent a hot shot of seething fire down to his free palm. Building up a fire in his hand, Kai stood up and spun the double-edged blade.
“Fire power…” Ray thought out loud. Shocked, he could only get out of the way as Kai threw a fireball at him.
“No… you’re certainly not a guard. You’re… my son!” Hearing those words made Kai pause. He didn’t know why, he just couldn’t move. Too many emotions were battling in him, and he could only focus on his father’s next few words.
“Kai! You’ve inherited my elemental power!” his father had actually said that. In joy. Suddenly, his fire was rekindled.
“That’s the only thing I’ll ever inherit from you!” Kai started to move, to continue the fight when suddenly his baby sister screamed for him to stop from the front door.
“He’s a traitor!” Kai explained through gritted teeth.
“He’s still our father,” Nya begged Kai to reconsider.
“Whatever it is you think, I can explain-“
“Yeah… BET YOU CAN!” Kai threw back his left hand, ready to unleash another fireball at his father when a jet of water put his element out.
“Kai, let him speak!” Nya pleaded. “There’s no harm in hearing him out!”
Kai then moved to throw the double-edged blade at his father, who had dodged out of the way. sensing that Nya would just put out his fire again, Kai pounced on his father and dragged him hip by the collar of his clothes, and began to wrestle with him.
“It ends here! NOW!” Overpowering his father, he managed the wrench his left hand free, and pulled it back into a punch.
“Kai, you don’t know what you’re doing!”  “I DO NYA! I ABSOLUTELY-“  “I’m not your sister, son.”
Kai suddenly stopped. His mother… was alive?!
“Huh? M-mom? I-I don’t believe it!” Kai released whatever he was holding as he turned around, trembling.
“That makes the 2 of us,” Maya stated sweetly, and suddenly all the memories that Kai had been oppressing came back- he could see the woman who cared for him, hear the lullabies she used to sing Nya to sleep, smell the floral shampoo and scent of mountain springs that hung around her. He remembers the taste of the food that she had made, and the warm, slender hands that held his own. As Kai watched his mother fuss over his baby sister, his resolve to fight, to seek revenger, crumbled away into pieces.
Removing his hood, he threw his arms around his mother, still smelling the scent of mountain springs, feeling the her skin, folded and cut in several areas, but still warm and firm.
But suddenly, he remembered the snake helmets and of Sensei Wu, and immediately pushed her back.
“Why, she’s as guilty as he is! They’ve been helping Acronix and Krux for years!” Kai seethed. “They’re the enemy!”
“Is that what you think?” Maya reproached. “We are not your enemy.”
“Then how do you explain this?” Kai took up the vermillion warrior’s helmet and showed his father’s symbol to his biological family. “Dad’s blacksmith stamp on every piece of Vermillion armour!”
“They forced us to work for them! Part of their revenge…” Maya rebutted.
“For what?”
“For creating the time blades,” Ray shook his head and creased his forehead. “It goes back a long tie, then Acronis and Krux were still Elemental Masters.”
Ray recounted how Wu had asked them to forge blades made of a chronosteel, a sort of metal that suctions your elemental powers away permanently if you used them to their true potential on the metal.
“We had worked for days and nights. At the end of it all, we were so exhausted, that we could not participate in the fight. But Wu had told us the results of the fights, about how he and Garmadon had sent the Time Twins and the Time Blades into a Time Vortex, essentially having them lost to time.”
“Yet, immediately after the portal has closed, Krux had gotten away. And he had gotten a glimpse of the Blimp too. He now knew that his brother was being sent to the future without him.”
“Now, he had decades to scheme and plan. He adopted the persona of the kindly Dr. Sanders Saunders. He had begun making the first batches of Vermillion out of the Great Devourer’s eggs. And his army would need weapons. Armour. Vehicles.
“So he went looking for us, and we had built a cordial relation with the old man.”
“One day, he suddenly revealed his true colours and held you two at sword point, stating that if we did not cooperate, he would not hesitate to kill you,” Maya said, eyes glistening with tears. “What could we have done?”
Kai didn’t know how to react. He stood there shell-shocked. His parents.. they weren’t traitors after all? The fire of anger fizzled out. “Okay, but what about the stamp?”
“I stamped every piece of my work, hoping that one day, someone would figure it out,” Kai’s father admitted. “So that together, we can stop Krux and Acronix’s plan.”
“What is their plan?” Nya asked. Ray shook his head and creased his eyebrows in fear. “To control all of time.”
That revelation shocked Kai into speaking again. He looked at his father, bruised, dirtied, and tired from their fight before. The feeling of guilt bubbled in his stomach, and Kai had to immediately right the wrongs.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” Kai began, wincing internally at his bad apology. But Nya- blessed Nya, had saved him by asking about Krux and Acronix’s plan to control all of time.
“They made me design the Iron Doom, a machine capable of transporting the Vermillion warriors through time,” Ray explained, rolling out a blueprint of the iron doom.
“So you built a Time Machine?” Kai asked incredulously. Ray huffed. “No, just the shell. I’m afraid the Time Machines are bit out of my skill set.”
“But Cyrus Borg was forced to design a power source capable of powering the machine by using temporal energy from the Time Blades,” Maya said whilst rolling out another piece of blueprint next to Ray’s this time of some sort of machine.
“Oh no! That must mean that the pause we felt earlier… that must mean that there are 3 blades in the present!” Nya exclaimed. Kai thought out loud that if Krux and Acronix got the blade, there will be only one left. “And if they get that, their time traveling mega armour will be fully operational!”
Kai stared dumbfoundedly at the smile shared between his parents. “Sorry, full operational is… good news?” Man, if his parents could just pick a side already!
“They’ll never get it,” Ray said with a smile. “Master Wu found it shortly after Acronix disappeared. Turns out it had the power to reverse time. Wu knew it was too dangerous to keep, so we hid it, buried deep in a location where only a combined elemental power of Fire and Water can reach.”
“And since you inherited our powers-“ Kai’s mother gasped sharply. “You must leave. Now!”
Ray looked downright alarmed. “You’re right. If Krux and Acronix knew you were here, they could-“
At this moment, the door burst open and time stood still.
“Could force you to retrieve the Time Blade for us? Excellent suggestion,” Krux said with a menacing smile.
“No way! We’ll never retrieve the Reversal Blade for you!”  “You tell him, brother!”
“You will! Or your parents will face the same fate that they tried to protect you from.” Krux countered, his smile stretching impossibly wider.
“We’re done serving you, Krux. Bring your worst!” Ray shouted, charging towards the Time Twins. Kai watched in horror as Krux used the Pause blade to stop his father’s momentum immediately, before giving him a hard kick in the gut.
“DAD!” Kai shouted, watching his father still frozen in place, bouncing on the hard floor.
“Look what I found,” drawled the voice of Commander Machia, wheeling in-
“Master!” “Wu!’
“You know, it occurs to me that the Reversal Blade is the only way to undo Wu’s Time Punch.” Acronix grinned.
“I…I’m afraid that’s true,” Kai’s father said, having gotten out of the pause effect.
“If you want to save your master, you’ll have to retrieve the 4th blade.” Krux walked even closer to Kai, before snatching away the double-edged blade. “And I’ll take that.”
Lightning flashed over the skies, creeping in tendrils and thunder boomed, rocking the ship. Kai and his family were stuck on a ship, not able to help his other family back at the swamp to fight off a whole swamp’s worth of snakes! And to top it all off, he had to retrieve the 4th Time Blade for the Twins, directly enabling Krux and Acronix’s plan!
Kai felt anger in the many hot drops of rain the fell onto his skin. But he couldn’t afford to lose himself here, he and Nya would have to work together, get past all the challenges and get the time blade, save Wu and get out of here!
Yet, once he and Nya had returned to the ship, the blade was immediately knocked out of his hands and his father took another Time Punch. Just as he was about the throw hands with the Time Twins, he was hit with a jet of brilliant red light, trapping him a Pause as he could only see the ship moving away from underneath him. They barely had the time to pull up their fusion dragon before heading back to the swamp.
Upon their arrival, they saw the Time Twins enter a temporal vortex. They had to follow them. There was no other choice.
A long, tiring battle in the past 40 years ago had taken its toll on Kai and Nya. They had managed to reverse the Time Punch on Master Wu (though Kai wonders if maybe Nya used a bit too much) and they had managed to drive Acronix and Krux back into the Temporal Vortex, this time actually sneaking aboard the ship and trying to remove the Time Blades from the engine of the Iron Doom.
Unfortunately for Kai, he just couldn’t lift the Reversal Blade, but Sensei Wu had. Throwing the Time Blade to him, Kai almost didn’t register Wu telling them to use the blade of Ray before throwing both of them out of the time stream and back into the present.
After had used the time blade on his father, Kai and Nya were tasked with Master Lloyd’s command to return the Reversal Blade to its place in the Boiling Sea. Of course, Kai had complied, adrenaline still fuelling his body. And yet when all was said and done, Kai collapsed upon reaching the Temple of Airjitzu.
The days after Kai and Nya returned to the present without Sensei Wu were some of the worst. Kai felt like he was over bursting with emotions. Guilt, grief, and anger clouded his mind over the loss of Wu. Joy, confusion, and deep-seated anger clouded his heart over his parents. Kai didn’t know how to deal with everything. He couldn’t really talk with his previous confidence, he couldn’t move without double guessing himself, and his decision-making skills were in pieces, grounded into a fine dust.
Does he reconnect with his family or not? What could he do the aid the search of Sensei Wu? Are Nya and Lloyd doing alright? Cole seems to be the hardest hit out of all of them, maybe he should go check on him?
Lying on his bed in the Temple of Airjitzu, Kai couldn’t muster his strength to well, do anything! He just needed some time to just… process, everything that had happened in the past month. His parents, of course, had given him some space, and just said that when he’s ready to contact them. Kai thinks that they also didn’t know how to deal with his situation and just took a cop-out. Or maybe they just wanted to breathe fresh, non-swamp-sewer air and tour Ninjago after being in captivity in 10 years. Honestly, who knows?
Lloyd had walked in and provided a brief source of relief for Kai, but too soon had he walked away, going back to his training. Kai saw his baby brother’s eyes sporadically turn green, infused with his element, in just 3 days. Kai would have joined him too, doing whatever hellish program he had set up for himself, if he wasn’t just ambushed by his feelings whenever he tries to get up, wondering if that was even the right choice. He certainly felt that it was his fault that he lost Sensei Wu, and now his kid brother had trained so hard that his eyes became green just to find Sensei again.
Nya was dealing with her own reconciliation with his parents and sometimes offered Kai a shoulder to cry on. Mostly, she was by herself, as Jay had told Kai to ease his worry. Still, his worry for Nya is topped only by his worry about the future.
Cole had also been hit hard by the loss of Sensei Wu and was shutting himself in. Zane was still trying to spend time looking for Pixal throughout the Bounty and any of our other bases of operations, trying to tracer her down.
That left Jay, who really, was as much of a help as a hindrance to Kai. Hanging out with Jay meant that Kai soon developed a terrible sense of humour, an arsenal of horrible puns, and way too many prank ideas. Jay had made sure that everyone was fed, watered, and in some cases- slept. Of course, being the responsible one for once meant that Jay had to bully his most stubborn teammates into taking a break, or having some food.
“MOOOORRRRNNIIIIIINNG!” Kai was once again woken up by Jay’s terrible screeching. Turning to face the wall, Kai pushed a pillow on top of him just so he could remain in the land of sleeping for longer. No such luck.
“KAAAIIIIII! GET UP!” Jay, screamed as the door to his room flung open. Aw man here we go again, Kai grumbled to himself.
“So what would you like to have this morning? Eggs and bacey? Toast with jam? How about-“
“How about you shut up and leave me alone!” Kai shouted, irritated by the perky tone that Jay has adopted. Watching Jay’s smile become less bright and more forced, Kai couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Sitting up and rubbing the base of his neck, Kai apologised for his outburst. “Sorry, Jay- it’s just that I need some time, alone.”
Jay nodded solemnly, before sitting down at the edge of his bed. Kai watched as Jay took a deep breath before saying his piece.
“I know Kai, but… Nya… she needs you. You have got to fix your relationship with your parents, or at least start on the first step. I’m going to be honest: I’m not good with people like you are. I don’t know how to get Lloyd to rest, because he’s going to break his body this way. Don’t get me started on Cole, who won’t open up to me at all. And I can’t out logic Zane. He keeps saying that since he’s a robot, he doesn’t need rest as we humans do.”
Kai stayed silent for a while, mulling over Jay’s words. Truth is, if he could, he would have done so already. What did Jay know about these kinds of relationships, anyways? In fact, when compared to everyone else on the team, Jay has the best relationship with his parents. So what was the point of this? Kai felt his hands curl up into a fist, bunching his bedsheets. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he breathed out to calm himself down before he could impulsively do something he’d regret.
“No can do, Jaybird. I don’t even know where to start,” Kai said regretfully. Kai honestly expected for Jay to slink out of his room, to go pester Nya to try or to get Lloyd to see sense, or to even get his best buddy to open up about his troubles. Kai did not think that Jay seemed to double down, taking several huge gulps of air, and one the edge of hyperventilation. He saw Jay’s hands tighten into fists before he spoke in a trembling voice.
“Kai… did is something that I really, really don’t want to share. It’s something that I keep wanting to erase out of my memories. But I can’t, because no matter how much I try to see it as just a prank- it’s the truth. I’m… adopted,” Jay finished in a hushed whisper. Immediately, Kai sat up straighter. He hadn’t heard this before. “Please, please, keep this a secret, Kai.”
“…so, when did you find out?” Kai whispered back.
“It was at the height of our popularity craze right after stix. A letter had come in, about how my father had died. Immediately, I went off to my Ma and Pa’s scrapyard, but it turns out that I had been adopted, and that my biological father was… Cliff Gordon,” Jay’s teeth had begun shuddering as tears came leaking out of his eyes.
“Oh,” That’s all Kai could really say. I mean, how were you going to reply to that?
“Of course, I felt all sorts of different emotions at first. Relief that my Pa didn’t die, confusion at why I was abandoned on my parent’s doorstep, realisation why neither of my parents had elemental powers, and eventually gratitude because my biological father had written me into his will.”
“But Kai, you don’t just easily forget the feeling when you thought that your parents died. I’m sure that if Cole was himself right now, he would have knocked some sense into you.” Jay stated with a small smile. “Our lives as Ninja are really, really dangerous. Yesterday, we lost Sensei Wu. Tomorrow… well, let’s just say that as a Ninja, you have to cherish time with your loved ones. Don’t put off tomorrow what can be done today.”
And Kai seriously was lost for words. Jay was… 100% right. There were no faults, no counterarguments. Danger was a Ninja’s job description, and too soon he could leave this realm without patching things up with his parents- his parents had almost done so too when his father had been struck by the Forward blade. If he couldn’t do it for himself, and his parents- well, he could do it for Nya’s sake.
Suddenly energised, Kai stood up.
“Thank you, Jay.”
And off he went to call his parents, checking in on them, holding a conversation that had a semblance of normality. They had talked about safe topics, about interesting areas Ray and Maya had visited, about Kai and Nya’s adventures, and about Kai’s team, Sensei Wu- anything, really.
Tears of joy fell down his cheeks before he decided to barge into Nya’s room, throwing open her curtains and rousing her from her slumber.
Because now, they had a chance. They could reconcile.
And then they can find Sensei Wu.
- Kai - It was their first machine in 6 months, and Kai had managed to lose his powers. Again. This time, however, the warmth and fiery spirit that Kai could always cling to were gone as well. He had always felt utterly powerless without his fire. But without his anger? Kai was more than useless. He couldn’t even defend the civilians from the fire snakes, because he was out of shape as well and had to rely on Jay to save him. Jay!
Severely discouraged by this fact, he told his team to just ‘go ahead without him'. He would not be of any help to them anyways. He would only add more onto their already full plate as they would have to focus on defending him too.
Slumping next to an overturned car, Kai hid his face in his hands. What if he never gets his powers back? Would they hate him? Forget him? Maybe he could become The Red Shogun again, maybe pilot a mech as Pixal does.
Kai’s jumbled thoughts were interrupted by a kid (seriously, how many disasters have Ninjago faced to let people carry on their normal lives whilst it’s raining fireballs?) handing him a journal, stating that Kai was his favourite Ninja and could he please, please sign his notebook?
“Sorry kid,” Kai huffed out. “I’m not really a ninja without my powers.”
“Well then, why don’t you go help your teammates?” The kid, Max asked.
“Because, I’m useless, that’s why!”
“Well- if you don’t help the ninja, I will!” And with that, Max stormed away and started to head for the scene of danger. Kai called out to him futile to come back and resigned himself to his fate. Picking up the notebook, Kai saw a cartoonish sticker of him in his ninja mask at the front, before coming to an epiphany.
His teammates didn’t like him for just his fire. Nor did the Ninjago citizens. He carried everyone’s hopes and dreams on his back and he can’t just turn around now and leave him to face the enemy alone!
What was he thinking?
Immediately, Kai rushed down the street to the Ninjago Museum of ancient artifacts.
Kai didn’t always have to run red hot. He didn’t need to perpetually be angry. Sometimes, it’s okay to mellow out. But now is not the time. Now, he has to save his family from one crazy snake lady who was fuelled only by revenge.
Kai couldn’t just be fuelled by his anger. Facing off with Aspheera taught him that. Being angry all the time was exhausting when he inevitably turned off the switch. Anger clouded his thoughts, made errs in his judgment, caused him to be impatient- all whilst ignoring the important parts of his life- his family. And from now on, Kai would only tap into anger when it was absolutely necessary. What matters the most to him isn’t feeling invulnerable, like nothing could hurt him, especially if he was protecting his teammates. Rather, it was the job that Kai had to do. Emotions in battle are a tricky thing, but all the times he observed Lloyd setting aside his feelings for the greater good had made Kai realise that emotions can be easily goaded. Manipulate, by enemies such as Chen and Harumi.
In a life or death situation, Kai couldn’t just rely on his feelings. He had to embrace his moral code, the values that he holds dear, and act upon them, even though it may seem impossible at times. And he shouldn’t get frustrated with his team.
Kai may be angry, but the only time he’ll properly deal with his emotions will be when the battle is all over, and then he will learn how to compartmentalise, how to sort through his emotions. Maybe he’ll take up blacksmithing part-time again.
All Kai knew that was in this instance, he refused to let his life be ruled over uncontrollable feelings, mostly of rage. He was the master of his own emotions.
And nothing will stop him from helping out his team.
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thearoacewriter · 4 years
Text
so I was thinking about how lucky it was that Neil survived Baltimore and I thought it was kinda like someone put a protection charm on him bc Stuart showed up at the exact right time. then I was like “okay who out of all the foxes would be a witch?” and it hit me duh it would definitely be Andrew so here’s my pagan Andrew hc
It started with his interest in greek mythology. One of his foster homes had a massive library that caught his attention. Of course, he wasn’t there for long—  Andrew never stayed at a home for more than a few weeks— so, along with a volume of the collected works of Shakespeare, he stole a book on Greek and Roman mythology.
He got through that book relatively quickly and wanted to know more. At first, he wanted to read about more obscure Greek myths, but when he went to Barnes & Noble (because he would never steal from an independent bookstore) a book about Norse mythology caught his eye.
He read up on as many different mythologies as he could find. Once he moved in with the Spears, Cass bought him all the mythology books he wanted, though Andrew never asked for them. She’d noticed the couple of books he lugged around and decided to buy him some more. Andrew never said thank you, but Cass knew he appreciated them because, within days, there’d be a million tabs sticking out of them.
It all stopped once Andrew went away to Juvie. The library they had there was just sad. They had one book on Greek myth and it was all of the basics that Andrew had already read a million times over. 
Andrew hated his uncle as soon as he saw him. He hated Tilda even more. Tilda wasn’t really religious, but his uncle and aunt sure were. It was hard to piss off Tilda since she barely gave two shits about him, but he needed to take his anger out on someone. That left his aunt and uncle. They were the ones who put him in this situation in the first place. They were the ones who let Aaron stay here and get hurt. They were to blame for this as well.
Andrew didn’t believe in God. He never did. Not even when one of his first foster houses forced the kids to go to church every sunday. He was small and impressionable then, but the foster house before that one had made him lose any hope that there might be a God watching over him and keeping him safe. 
During his time reading about different deities, he found out that people still worshipped them. Pagans. Witches. Wiccans. They worked with and worshipped the old gods. That had caught Andrew’s attention, but he learned about it just before juvie so he never had a chance to look more into it.
Now he did. He knew being a witch would piss Luther off more than anything. Luther had been trying to lead Andrew down a spiritual path, but Andrew wasn’t having any of it. He looked into witchcraft, bought a bunch of books on it. He learned the basics first: protection spells, what different crystals did, the wheel of the year. He started to practice reading tarot cards and even got a pendulum.
Andrew was obnoxious about his practice around Luther and Maria. They told him that he could be saved if he converted, that witchcraft was the will of the Devil. Andrew told him what he learned about Lucifer as an entity and how he was completely different from the Devil. He told them that Pagan’s didn’t believe in hell. “How can I fear damnation if I don’t believe in it?”
The more he practiced the more he believed. His tarot reading came up right every single time. His spells started to work too. At first, it was just little things like luck for a test in school or motivation to finish an essay. He got more confident in his spells, using them to help the people he cared about more than on himself. He cast a luck spell on Nicky after he heard about what his parents were doing to him when they found out he was gay. Soon after, he went to study abroad in Germany. He found someone who helped him out of the hole he’d been in. 
Months past, Tilda was still hurting Aaron. Andrew had threatened her to keep his hands off him many times, but she wouldn’t listen. The plan took a little while to formulate, but once he was ready, he cast his first hex. It exhausted him. He felt like he’d played a full game of exy. Though he knew he had to keep going. He’d casted a protection spell on himself before the hex, but he needed an even stronger one if he was going to survive what he was about to do. 
He was tired, but determined. Aaron was pretending to be him somewhere else at the moment, so he had to pretend to be Aaron. He wasn’t worried that Tilda could tell the difference. They’d done this a few times before and Tilda never suspected a thing. 
The car crashed. Tilda died. Andrew lived, somewhat unscathed. 
Nicky came back from Germany when he heard. Andrew kept practicing. He celebrated the Sabbats, oftentimes Nicky would join him even though he was Christian. He didn’t want Andrew to have to celebrate alone. Sometimes, he’d even get Aaron to join in. 
When Kevin came into the picture, he started casting protection spells on him. He’d place crystals in his pockets to help with his arm and anxiety. He’d draw sigils in the back of Kevin’s notebooks. 
He put a hex on Riko the minute he found out he broke Kevin’s arm. Those worked well enough in the end.
He looked into truth spells once Neil Josten came to Palmetto, though he never used any of them. He’d never do a spell that took away anyone’s free will. Hermes, his patron, wouldn’t approve anyway. 
He missed Yule while he was at Easthaven. He couldn’t do anything for it besides meditate and try to communicate with his deities in astral. He was good enough at casting protection charms on himself without any materials, but not so good at astral projecting.
Once he got out, he placed some protection spells on Neil too. He didn’t want to admit it, but now that he was sober, he couldn’t blame the feelings he had for Neil on his meds. He wanted to keep Neil safe. It was part of their deal, sure, but he also did it to feel less like something was going to jump out and grab Neil at any second. 
He cleansed his dorm for Imbolc. Aaron and Nicky were used to Andrew spritzing rain water everywhere on the first of February. Kevin looked at him funny as he came out of his room, but didn’t say anything. Just like he didn’t say anything about the crystals and sigils. 
His tarot reading for Imbolc said he would open up more. He thought he’d read his cards wrong, but his clarifiers confirmed it. He thought it was bullshit until Eden’s. “That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t blow you.” It kept happening as Neil followed him to the roof more and more often. Then, they kissed. Andrew wanted Neil to push him away, to tell him no, but he wouldn’t. 
They kept messing around. Andrew kept slipping crystals into Neil’s pockets. He even made him a tiger’s eye keychain since Andrew knew Neil always had his keys on him. He knew how important keys were to Neil, so he knew he’d never lose them. 
That is until their match against the Bearcats. The riot after the game caused Andrew to go after Aaron and Kevin. He wanted to go after Neil first, but he remembered that they broke their deal. He forced himself to look away from Neil. He assured himself that Neil was safe. He had his tiger’s eye keychain. He had the protection spell Andrew always casts before they leave for away games.
Though, when they all got on the bus, Neil was nowhere to be found. He went back out and only came up with Neil’s duffle bag. He dug through it and found his keys tucked inside. Andrew started to panic, though he didn’t show it. He forced some answers out of Kevin and they were on their way to Baltimore. 
Andrew sat in his usual seat. He was the most fidgety he’d ever been since getting off his meds. He couldn’t cast any protection spells since he didn’t have the right supplies, but he did hold onto Neil’s tiger’s eye and prayed to Hermes to keep Neil safe. 
He didn’t quite understand what happened until Neil explained everything. The thing about magick was that it was unpredictable. When Andrew found out that Neil’s father was still alive, he wanted a way to keep him away from Neil permanently. He couldn’t find the right hex to use, so he tried to manifest his death instead. Manifestation is tricky. If you’re not extremely specific, there’s no telling how it’d play out. 
His protection spells had worked to an extent, it’s just that his manifestation worked more. Neil was saved at the last second by his uncle, but he still had major wounds. Nathan Wesninski was dead at least, though that didn’t stop Andrew from blaming himself for not being more thorough. 
After Neil’s arms healed a bit and after Neil started wearing the armbands Andrew got him, Andrew would draw protection sigils on his arms while they were sitting on the roof. They were covered during the day, most of the time Neil just sweated them off, but Neil swooned every time Andrew did it. It was a sign that he cared, truly cared, about Neil. 
Additionally, Sir is Andrew’s familiar. Don’t ask me why it’s not King because idk it’s just the vibe 
Also eventually Neil starts giving Andrew things he finds on his hikes because Neil’s a little goblin boy and he knows that Andrew could use some of the things in rituals or as offerings 
They also do a handfasting ritual on the Beltane after they get married. They got married mostly because Andrew didn’t want to have to fight with the nurses to let him see Neil if he got hurt or vice versa. Weddings don’t have value to Andrew, but handfasting rituals do, so they did one in this meadow they like to go to sometimes and had a picnic afterward
anyway I like projecting onto my favorite characters so thanks for letting me indulge i would very much like Andrew to celebrate the sabbats with me. I’m a kitchen witch, he likes sweets, it’s the perfect combination 
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-BTS Reaction-
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You were sitting at a cafe, sipping on your favorite drink and people watching from your window seat. You saw a group of individuals wearing their hats pulled low, sunglasses, and face masks. You knew clearly they must have been someone famous and didn’t want to be recognized. And you also weren’t going to spoil their cover so you minded your own business. You watched them walk up to the counter order their drinks, and then glance around the cafe. It was then you noticed the table next to yours was the only one open but it still wouldn’t be enough room. They all walk over and 4 of them are able to sit, you see them looking around for an empty chair so you clear your throat to get their attention.
“You can push the table together with mine and 3 of you can sit here if you need to. It’s okay I don’t mind.” You offer the friendliest smile you can muster and that seems to set them at ease. The one with the black snapback smiles back at you, and you can’t help but think that his eyes look oddly familiar. 
“Thank you! That’s very kind of you.” He says. Okay now you know you have heard that deep voice somewhere before. Could it be? No. Absolutely not, there’s no way. You tell yourself. You shake your head to clear your racing thoughts. 
“Oh it’s no trouble. I’ll just be working on a few things here so I won’t bother you all.” You scoot over so the one with light brown hair can sit next to you. A tall man with black curly hair sits across from you, you thought you saw tattoos on his hand but he quickly pulled the sleeve down on his shirt to cover them. It’s then that he looks at your shirt and smiles happily. The man with light brown hair takes his glasses off and you finally realize who it is that just sat with you. You’d recognize those warm brown eyes anywhere. You nearly have a freakout before you scold yourself. They’re just people. Just like you. No need to get all worked up. You take a few deep breaths and try to focus on your work when the one next to you pokes your shoulder. 
“Hmm?”
“You like BTS?” The man you now know is Jin asks. You try to appear nonchalant and shrug your shoulders.
“Yeah I mean, everyone knows who they are and likes them right? I’ve heard a few of their songs and they’re pretty good.” Lies. You’ve listened to them for years now and know nearly every song by heart because you listen to as many as you can in a day.
“Ah really? What’s your favorite song you’ve heard?” Jimin questions further.
“Hmm the song about Spring time? Spring season? What was it called?”
“Spring Day!” Taehyung chimes in. “That one is my favorite too. That’s surprising though I figured one of their songs from the Love yourself era would have been your favorite.” Taehyung is staring at your shirt but you don’t notice, having completely forgotten you were wearing their shirt from the tour you went to last year. Hoseok decides to tease you a little further.
“Ah do you have a bias?”
“I don’t think I’ve listened to them long enough to choose. They all have their charming points.” 
“Oh really? Hmm I would think you would be Hoseok biased. He’s really handsome you know? And you have a warm smile just like him!” Hoseok says. 
“Yeah he is. They all are though to be honest. And all of their smiles could light up the world, I swear.” Okay y/n dial it back a bit. Be chill. 
“Is that why you have a photocard of all of us in the back of your phone? You just love us all that much?” You freeze and immediately become so flustered you think you’re going to pass out. Jungkook reaches across the table and rests his hand on your own and now you can clearly see his tattoos.
 “Hey it’s okay! Don’t be nervous.”
“Oh my god I am an idiot how could I forget the photo card.”
 “You’re also wearing our tour shirt.” Yoongi adds with his eyebrow raised.
“Can a sink hole just form under my chair and end my misery please?” You ask to the forces of the universe. The members all laugh at that but Namjoon speaks to put your mind at ease.
“Hey like Jungkook said. It’s okay you don’t have to be nervous or try to hide from us.”
“I know that I just... was trying to keep my cool and not make a scene. I honestly didn’t even know who you all were when I offered you my table.”
“So how about we start over then?” Taehyung suggests. You nod.
“Okay. Hello. I am y/n. I have been your fan for years. I listen to your music everyday and would all day if I could. Your music helped me get through so many hard times and I respect and admire you all so much. No, I don’t have a bias because you all are too damn perfect and sweet and kind and beautiful. How could I possibly pick just one?” You let out in one breath and are huffing by the end of your little speech causing the maknae line you giggle at you.
“You’re adorable y/n. But really thank you for not screaming and making a big deal about this you’re.. surprisingly calm.” Jimin says as he studies your expression.
“Really? Well I am glad I have been able to come off that way to you because inside I am screaming and feel like I could jump out of this damn seat because holy shit my favorite group is just sitting here chatting with me like it’s nothing.” Jin laughs loudly at that and several of the other cafe patrons stare at you. He immediately ducks his head and covers his mouth to quiet his laugher. 
“Thank you for saying all that though. It’s always nice meeting army, especially when they are as kind and cool about it as you.” You can’t help the wide smile that spreads across your face. Suddenly Namjoon’s phone goes off and he’s talking in a rushed manner to their manager it seems. He sighs at the end and hangs up the phone. 
“We gotta go now guys. They want us early for the meeting.” The younger members plus Yoongi all let out a groan.
“Can’t we stay for a little while? Finish our coffees and talk to our new friend here?” You blush at Yoongi’s words and him calling you their new friend.
“Afraid not. We gotta go now. I’m sorry.” They all stand at once and let out grumbles. All of the members wave goodbye to you, and thank you for supporting them and hope you continue to do so.
“Of course I will. l signed up for this BTS shit for life.” Jin laughs again, this time not caring if someone recognizes them since they are leaving now anyway. They are all heading out the door but Jungkook stays behind for a moment longer. He slides into the booth next to you and tugs you into a tight hug. You’re shocked, but not unhappy. In fact you think this moment might be the happiest you’ve ever been. The hug is over much to soon for your liking. But when you pull away Jungkook ruffles your hair playfully. 
“You seem like a really nice person y/n. I am really happy we have someone like you as our fan. We usually come here on Friday afternoons if you ever want to join us again?” 
“I think I would like that very much.”
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