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loopy-froots · 3 years

Text

Childhood Friends

Brahms Heelshire x afab!Reader

Author: @loopy-froots

Word Count: 3261 (WOW wtf…)

Slight request by @leahromanof : small age gap (Brahms is 26-28 and the reader is 20)

Summary: The Reader grew up very close to the Heelshire family, as their parents were business partners with them. However, after the fire incident, Brahms and the Reader took some space from each other. While the Reader knew Brahms was still alive, they didn’t know under the circumstances he was. When a sudden tragedy strikes their family, the Reader is left with no home. The Heelshire family offer their home with welcoming arms, but much has changed between all of them since they have last seen each other.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, swearing, slasher x reader, smut, virgin/unprotected sex (masc and fem), abusive parents (fem), insecurities (on both parts), slight age gap (6ish years?), a slight size kink (if you squint?), etc.

Author’s Note: I wasn’t too sure what to write for the age gap so I hope this is good enough!!! I also threw in a lot of personal needs I’ve been having, so I hope y’all don’t mind! Feel free to let me know your thoughts!!!

~~~

*2nd Person POV*

You couldn’t believe this was happening. You were finally going to see your beloved childhood friend, Brahms Heelshire, again after close to ten years of separation. You wished this was not under these circumstances, as you never intended to cause your family such turmoil.

“Y/n! Come in, why don’t you?” Mr. Heelshire exclaims as he opens his front door. He must have seen you walk up their driveway. You can see Mrs. Heelshire inside, but she shares a concerning expression. Trying to brush it off, you step inside and am greeted by the warmth of the house. It was a terribly chilly winter day, and the walk there exhausted you.

“Come, dear! Let me get you a cup of tea to warm you up! You look rather frozen!” Mrs. Heelshire snaps out of her funk and laughs al0ng with her husband. Their jovial attitude makes you feel rather welcomed and loved.

“I cannot thank you enough, Mr. and Mrs. Heelshire… I… I’m terribly sorry that this all happened… especially so suddenly…” You look down with embarrassment.

“Nonsense! We’re always happy to have you, Y/n! Our home is yours!” Mr. Heelshire smiles at you, but you get a somewhat urgent vibe from him. You’re not sure how to feel about it, but you figure since they’re being ever so kind you were in no position to question.

“Now, dear… why don’t you tell us exactly what happened… Perhaps we may help with your parents’ situation?” Mrs. Heelshire gently suggests, but you shake your head in disagreement.

“Unfortunately, I’m not sure that’s possible… you see, I recently came out to my parents as non-binary… they’ve never been overly supportive of that kind of stuff, but I knew I couldn’t hide myself any longer…” You explain shamefully.

“Oh my… that is a rather difficult predicament, hm? However, we want you to know that we fully support you… in fact, our own Brahms considers himself genderfluid,” Mrs. Heelshire shares, which honestly makes you feel less alone.

“Really? I… I had no idea… Thank you, but speaking of which… where is Brahms…? Does he still live with you?” You wonder.

“Oh, um… yes… he does, but he’s grown to be rather… timid… so he doesn’t always come out when people are visiting…” Mr. Heelshire explains swiftly, and you try to understand. You don’t fully know what he’s been through, so who are you to judge his social anxieties?

“That’s alright. Well, I just hope he knows how excited I am to see him again…” You confess, causing a surprised reaction from the Heelshire couple.

“Really? Well, that’s certainly wonderful! I’m sure he'll become more open to meeting you after he gets used to you being in the house…” Mrs. Heelshire states with a gentle smile, and you nod your head in agreement.

With that, you are then taken on a tour of the house. You’re shown areas you can and cannot wander to, and you mentally note each location that’s off limits. You’d never want to make the Heelshires uncomfortable, despite how curious you were. They show you to your room, which you immediately recognize as Brahms’ childhood room.

“Oh wow! This looks exactly how I remembered it!” You giggle.

“I’m glad you’re fond of it still, as Brahms insisted you take his room for your own… comfort…” Mr. Heelshire shares, but something tells you he’s not entirely being honest. However, you ignore the feeling bubbling up in your stomach.

“Well, feel free to unpack your things dear. As we mentioned before, we are planning on going on a trip within the next few days. So it will be just you and Brahms for a while…” Mrs. Heelshire reminds you, and you shiver slightly for some reason.

“Oh, yes… Well, I hope the two of you enjoy it!” You politely respond.

~~~

“Goodbye, dear! And remember, follow the rules and you’ll get no trouble from our dear Brahms!” The Heelshires bid you farewell and leave in their cab. Closing the door, you sigh in relief.

“Alright, follow the rules… I can do that… it’s the least I can do since they were so kind as to let me stay for a while…” You motivate yourself.

“Y/n…” A sudden familiar, childlike voice echoes through the house. You looked around to see who it came from, but you saw no one. It had to be Brahms, right? Who else could it have been, but where was he?

“B-Brahms?” You sheepishly call out. You hear no answer and suddenly feel quite stupid. Maybe you just heard the shifting of the house or imagined someone was calling your name?

“Alright, focus… first things first, making some lunch… hopefully he’ll come down to eat with me…?” You hope. You could’ve sworn you heard another childish giggle somewhere, but you try to shake the skittish feeling building up. You quickly make whatever you feel like for lunch, desperate to finish so that you can call Brahms down to eat.

“Um, Brahms? I… lunch is done… if you want some?” You yell throughout the house, but you hear no answer. Finally feeling defeat, you turn back to the kitchen and notice that one of the plates of food has disappeared.

“How did he get to it without me noticing?” You ask out loud. Every instinct within you tells you that something was wrong, but you tried your best to give the man some time to adjust to the new living situation.

“Y/n…?” In the middle of eating, you hear a now more adult version of the voice you heard earlier. You drop your fork in surprise and frantically look around for the source. You then see a tall and scruffy looking man standing at the end of the dining room. He was holding the plate that is now empty, and you figure that must be Brahms. He was very odd looking, in all honesty. He wore a porcelain mask that resembles the type of little dollies you used to keep as a kid.

“Oh, um… h-hello, Brahms…?” You try to be friendly towards him, despite the creepy feeling you got from him already. However, him not answering causes the suspicion to form again.

“Um… did you enjoy the meal I made for you?” You try to spark a conversation, but Brahms nonverbally nods in response.

“That’s good! I’m… glad…” You smile awkwardly at him, but his masked face remains expressionless. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, and Brahms notices the tense state you’re in. He begins to step closer to you, and sets his plate on the table. Sweating profusely, you wonder what he’s doing. He steps closer and closer to you until he’s directly in front of you. While you sit, he towers over you. You’d never admit it, but he’s very intimidating. However, you try your best to be polite.

“Is… everything alright, Brahms?” You ask innocently. He just stares at you, though, never saying a word. When you were about to get up and try to walk away, he grabs your arm and pulls you into him.

“B-Brahms…?!” You exclaim as he squeezes you in his broad arms. He’s rather warm, but trembling. Your heart relaxes when you realize he only wanted a hug.

“Y/n… nice to see you again…” He finally peeps out. Your cheeks heat up, but you lean into the embrace. The two of you just hold onto each other for a few moments, enjoying each other’s presence.

“Good to see you, too! I was worried you were upset with me for coming back after such a long time…” You try to pull away and look him in the eyes, but his grip keeps you there.

“Mm, no… not upset… lonely…” He breathes into your ear, sending a chill down your back. He was… lonely? That makes you feel bad… really bad… how could you leave him like you did after the incident?! It wasn’t completely your fault, as you parents were the main reason you stayed away. They told you what a dangerous person Brahms was, and they forbid you from being influenced by him in any way.

Additionally, your parents never liked how fond the two of you seemed towards each other, despite the slight age difference you had. Brahms was only six years older, and to you it didn’t matter for terms of friendship. However, your parents saw the attraction Brahms had towards you right away. As children, it only developed into a little crush, but the older the two of you got the more obvious it became, to the adults at least. You seemed quite oblivious to his attempts to woo you, as you had just thought he was being friendly.

“I…I’m sorry, Brahms… I should’ve… I wish I’d have… I’m sorry…” Tear well in your eyes as you look down from his gaze. Your focus then shifts to the ever growing bulge in his pants that you hadn’t noticed before.

“It’s alright… happy you’re here now…” Brahms strokes your hair with his free hand, and he leans into you. You feel him stroke your neck with his nose, seemingly trying to get a reaction out of you. Completely frozen, you felt unsure of what to do. All of the sudden, your head’s ideas clicked and made you realize the years of yearning he’d been doing for you.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t still have feelings for the boy you grew up with. You always admired how protective he was of you. You never admitted your affection towards him, though, as you thought he might react negatively. To you, the age difference acted as a barrier, but to him, it seemed he didn’t mind in the slightest. All he’s ever known was his love for you, despite the age gap. However, is this still the same boy as before? You probably barely knew him anymore. Then why were you getting so flustered over this simple interaction?

“Brahms?” You look back into his eyes with a curious glint. What was he planning with you?

“Hm?” He nonchalantly answers.

“Are you…?” You start, but then feel too embarrassed to finish.

“Yes,” He agrees without needing you to explain. You feel him jerk his hips into your stomach softly, desperate to get some friction between the two of you. As intoxicating as he was being, you still felt unsure of your stance with him.

“I’m not sure I want to… I mean, this is so soon… don’t you think?” You try to reason mainly with yourself to try and stop this from happening. With that, Brahms stops and pulls away from you with a pout.

“No?” He questions with sweet eyes.

“I… yes…?” You try to stand your ground with yourself again, but it’s no use. Brahms’ heartfelt pleading turns you to putty in his hands.

“Please?” He begs. With that, you finally agree, and he’s onto you. Groping all up and down your sides, front, and back, he feels every inch of your body as if he’s desperate to find something in you.

“Brahms… wait…?” You stop him again, realizing you hadn’t seen his actual face yet. You politely ask him to remove his mask, but he visibly slumps.

“Why…? You… don’t want to see me…” Brahms insecurely explains, but you shake your head.

“I do! Please…?” You whine as he continues to feel up your back. Brahms hesitates slightly, then agrees. With that, he slowly removes the porcelain from himself. This leaves his bare, burnt, and uncertain face into your view. You’re unsure of what to say at first, as your feelings are conflicted. However, you quickly decide to go with what your heart felt.

“You’re so handsome, Brahms…” You confess with a sheepish smile. He doesn’t respond, though, almost as if he’s debating what to say as well.

“Mm!” You moan through a sudden kiss he placed on your lips, making Brahms smile to himself in the kiss. He loved the way you reacted to his touch. He quickly realized you were feeling the same towards him, and that gave him the confidence to continue. You rapidly grew a certain heat in your pelvic area, but the feeling was still unfamiliar to you. Only on the rare occasion did you allow yourself the pleasure, but you felt guilty for it every time.

“Slut… whore… useless daughter…” Your parents’ past words radiate in your head, and a panic washes over your body. Brahms senses your inner conflict again, and stops once more.

“Y/n…?” He gently asks to see if you’re alright. Tears well up in your eyes as the guilt of disappointing your parents consumes you.

“I’m sorry, I just… my mom and dad would be so upset… I just feel so… lost…” You admit, and Brahms wipes your cheeks with his calloused hands.

“Mm, screw them…” He chuckles darkly.

“But…” You try to argue, but he shushes you instead.

“They’ve never been good to you, Y/n…” Brahms shares, and it confuses you at first. They’ve always given you food, shelter, and anything else a child would need.

“But they… they mean well…” You try to reason it out, but he still disagrees.

“I’ve been watching, listening to how they treat you your whole life, Y/n… the way they scream at you, gaslight you, disappoint you… that’s not love… that’s abuse…” Brahms whispers with a broken heart for you. The pain of realization hits you, but you try to muffle your cries with your hands over your mouth.

“I’m so sorry… I know how hard it is… but I… I want to love you… really love you…” He kisses the top of your head sweetly. His words fill your heart with hope that you might not be miserable the rest of your life.

“Really…? I mean, I would love that… but I don’t want to force you into anything…” You self doubt yourself.

“Absolutely. I mean, hell… why do you think I was doing all of this?” Brahms wonders, and you suppose he’s right.

“Yeah, true… I’m sorry, I just feel bad… but thank you, I’d love to… y’know…?” You admit with a shy grin, which he immediately returns.

“Good,” He smirks and kisses you again. This time, the kiss was much more desperate for the sweet result. Brahms shows no mercy for you this time as he begins biting your lips. Your little gasps invoke a strong sense of pride within him. He was making you feel this way, and he alone would make you feel good.

“Hm,” His deep voice rumbles in his chest. Your eyes flutter open and shut, unsure of how to go about this situation. Squirming around awkwardly, you then feel Brahms grab your waist as he lifts you up and onto the table.

“Ah! Brahms...?!” You yelp in surprise.

“Take off your shirt, Y/n.” He demands, already sliding his hands underneath. You timidly follow his instructions, removing your shirt and bra from your body. Brahms looks down from your face and onto your breasts. He adored them, so he ran his hands over them as he gave each nipple a cheeky pinch.

“Oh, Brahms…” Your eyes close in bliss, but he snaps your attention back to his eyes.

“Look at me,” He suggests sternly.

“O-okay…” You do as he wishes and stare deep into his icy eyes. He’s tender and gentle, but he still makes you feel so small next to him.

“You’re so pretty, Y/n… I’ve always loved you…” Brahms brushes a stray lock of hair out of your face, giving him a better view at your beauty.

“I have loved you for the longest time, too, Brahms… I just never knew how to tell you…” You try your best to express your feelings, but your past experience with doing so has never been easy for you. Each emotion you shared ended in an argument with your parents.

“I’m so glad… please…” Brahms pleads, leaning his forehead against yours. He didn’t have to finish for you to understand what he wanted.

“C’mere…” Your sudden burst of trust hits the two of you like a train. Brahms roughly attacks your neck with his lips and teeth, nipping at all your sensitive areas. Exploring each and every inch, he scopes out which areas you like best.

“Mm, Y/n…” He whimpers, rubbing his needy cock against your body. You had neglected it for far too long, and you wanted to give it some love too.

Lowering your hand down to his member, you stroke him through his pants. Pre-cum leaks from his tip and soaks through his underwear slightly. His moans fill your ears with sweet misery. The lack of being inside of you was killing him, but he wanted to take things slow for you.

“Ah, Y/n…! Please! I’ll be a good boy!” He begs you to allow him entrance, and you agree. Instantaneously, he pulls his clothes off and prepares his painfully hard cock to slide into you.

“Oh! You feel… so tight…!” He didn’t tell you, but this was his first time as well. The first feeling of being inside of someone, especially when that someone is you, was the best feeling he’s ever felt. He couldn’t help himself but pump in and out of you. He tried his best to go slow, but his selfish excitement got the better of him. However, you were far from upset by this.

“Ah! D-don’t… stop…!” You plead with him, and he obliges. Slapping his body into yours in a rhythmic motion causes you to quickly feel that coil in your stomach tighten around him.

“F-fuck…! You’re gonna make me…!” As quickly as it started, your love making ended. The two of you came together simultaneously, and everything felt perfect to you. However, Brahms felt a wave of guilt.

“I… I’m sorry… I wish I had lasted longer… and I shouldn’t have pressured you into this…” He goes on and on about all the things he could’ve done better, but you then stop him with a chaste peck on his lips.

“You were perfect. Thank you,” You lovingly look into his eyes. He searches for any sort of regret, but when he finds none he settles into your arms.

~~~

MY REQUESTS FOR DRAWING AND WRITING ARE STILL OPEN!! FEEL FREE TO SEND AN ASK/MESSAGE WITH YOUR IDEA!!

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jkstompers · 3 years

Text

a royal engagement | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook x female reader

summary: the rough ground against his clothed knee doesn’t matter anymore when he sees the sweetest smile on your face. everything is perfect.

genre: arranged marriage but they wanna do it right!, best friends to lovers, royalty!au, FLUFF, crown princess!oc, prince!jk, surprises!, jk believes in soulmates confirmed, oc is so in love, perhaps jk flexes how rich he is in this ~(˘▾˘~)

warnings: mentions of sex, sexual tension, more talk of exes (both jk and oc’s), they both talk about losing their virginity, mild jealousy, mentions of menstrual cycles, a little bit of lip locking action

word count: 11.1k

author’s note: ♡ happy jungkook day! ♡ this chapter spans over a week and a half-ish! also i made a little oopsies in the last chapter when i said that oc had only been back in raemor for a week… it’s actually been a month since she’s left the city. i’m sorry about that! i changed it on an arrangement already, but i just figured it out when i was editing this chapter. other than that, i’m so excited for this series and i hope u all enjoy!! pls lmk what u think! ღ'ᴗ'ღ

banner pic creds here! <3

jungkook had the utmost faith in you.

there was something in him that always knew that the love the two of you had ran way deeper than a friendship— probably more than a relationship too. it was something like a soul tie. something the stars created before the earth was ever created. two beings that were always meant to be together, in every universe, in every time before and after this. jungkook held his hope in that. his trust that the love the two of you forged was strong enough to pull you out of your room and into his arms before the plane took off.

the war between your head and your heart ended in a stalemate. you were fighting against something that you knew in your heart you wanted. your brain couldn’t make any more excuses to go against it when jungkook laid his heart out on the floor for you. you’d already made your decision before you went to sleep— before you even left jungkook’s grasp. but you were one for the dramatics.

the sound of the plane landing woke you, you were afraid you were too late. thinking that you slept in during a moment that could decide the rest of your life, you ran. bare feet smacking against the cold floor of the castle, before you eventually made it out to the garden and then the royal runway.

the sound of your voice that morning set it in stone. that jungkook will never love another the way he does you.

“jungkook!” you called out.

he was just about to board the plane for fenutar, jungkook and his advisors huddled into a circle to talk about customs and special etiquette since it’s been a while since he’s last visited. your shout interrupted the conversation. jungkook turned around immediately at the familiar voice.

the sight of you running through the cold, wet grass in your sleep wear with a winter coat and no shoes on. it makes his heart swell, with both love and worry. more so worry. “princess? what are you doing out here?! it’s freezing and you’re not even wearing the right clothes—”

you cut him off as you crash into his body for a tight hug. it felt right, it always did. “am i too late?” you ask, face snuggled into his warm chest.

he shakes his head, a little laugh accompanying the words. “you’re just in time.”

now, jungkook and you lay in your bed, staring up at the ceiling together. since seven in the morning, the two of you have just been talking about everything and nothing. mostly just appreciating each others presence. time passed quickly and it was almost time for everyone to start getting ready for breakfast. “so... how should we tell everyone? over breakfast?” you asked, pulling yourself on his chest and resting your cheek against his ribs.

he smiles at you. “sure, i heard they’re serving waffles, donuts— you know, sweet stuff.”

“and wouldn’t our news be so sweet?” you grinned. he laughs and you can feel his chest rise and fall under your head, the sound of his laughter just up against your ear. “should we go now?”

you move to get up, but jungkook stops you, placing a hand on your waist. “let’s stay here for a little bit longer.” he suggests, moving his hand up to run through your hair. “aren’t you tired from your dramatic show of affection this morning?” laughing as his fingers card through the strands of your hair. he combats your glare with a tender massage to your scalp. remembering how you’d always fall asleep whenever he did, and it worked. your eyelids fell and you melt against jungkook as he continues to rub your scalp gently.

love wasn’t scary. times like this, when it’s just you and jungkook; no expectations, no titles, no responsibilities. it’s just love. it wasn’t terrifying, it’s not painful. well, maybe it is sometimes. like how your heart beats out of your chest whenever jungkook looks at you, eyes glistening with admiration. like when you smile at jungkook and he feels like he could burst at any second just from the sight of you. love is hard to explain. love is whatever you make it out to be. and right now, love is in the curve of jungkook’s lips when he smiles at you. love is in the palm of your hand when you reach out to hold him.

the sound of the knocks on the door doesn’t register until the second round of taps. “princess, it is time for breakfast.” you hear from behind the door.

you sit up. “i’ll be right out!” trying to get out of bed but jungkook pulls you back.

“uh-uh,” he tsks. “you’re not dressed.” you furrow your eyebrows before you look down at what you’re wearing. a slip dress, the one you wore to sleep to be specific. “i won’t look, don’t worry.” he laughs, scooting himself up on your bed and covering his face with one of your pillows. he ignores how nice it smells, just like that shampoo he really likes. you bought it back in the city, raemor doesn’t have shampoos that smell like this.

he hears you rustle around in your closet before he hears a faint zip. “wait— jungkook, how does this look?”

the pillow is pulled away from his face and his eyes lay on you. with a colorful sundress draped on your body. it flows and compliments your skin beautifully. you’re beautiful. god, you’re gorgeous. asking jungkook for his opinion wouldn’t help, he’s biased. you’re pretty in his eyes no matter what you wear. “that— yeah, it’s— you look great.” he stumbles over his words.

“cat’s got your tongue?” you tease. in retaliation, jungkook ruffles up your hair a bit, making you groan and spend another five minutes in front of the mirror to fix it. meanwhile, jungkook pulls himself off the bed and straightens his outfit out, opting to leave his jacket off since it was toasty in the castle. he still looks proper and handsome with his white button up and dress pants on. for the last touch, you dig through your jewelry box, knowing that it has to be somewhere in there.

then there it was, at the bottom, tangled with a necklace from your mother, was the friendship bracelet jungkook gave you when you were twelve at the lantern festival. a dainty gold chain with a flower embellishment on it, signifying the promise the two of you made. he watches from afar when you put it on, trying to hide his surprise. “you still have it?”

you nod, “you don’t?”

“i do.” he assures. “i just didn’t think you’d remember it after all this time.”

you scoff playfully, walking towards him. “of course i remember,” linking your arm with his. “i remember everything.”

with that, the two of you step out of your room and down to the dining hall. they were expecting you, but not jungkook. the shock on everyone’s faces was evident. your parents, clementine, your ladies, venus, even blue. it was a good surprise though. both of your parents had to hide their big smiles behind their napkins. the staff kindly added another chair next to you for jungkook to sit down in. no one spoke up about it, if they wanted to ask, they kept their mouths shut. the two of you enjoy a delicious breakfast without any interference from any of the advisors.

but someone had to say it, and you were happy that it was going to be you.

you let out a cough before standing up, holding a glass of water and clinking your knife against it gently to grab everyone's attention. it only took a few seconds for all eyes to land on you. “jungkook and i have come to the conclusion that we will marry.” you announce.

the hall is overjoyed. cheers coming from your parents, smiles being sent your way from blue and your ladies. even the advisors, the most stern and inexpressive people you know (except for venus) crack a little smile at the news. “but—” you begin. silence quickly takes over the room. “only on jungkook and i’s terms.”

there is a bit of confusion amongst the crowd. so clementine is quick to ask, “and what are those terms, your highness?”

one. “jungkook and i will wed next year, when spring begins.”

two. “both of us will plan the wedding, with help of others, but the main parts will be orchestrated by the two of us.”

three. “there will be no talk of an heir until we are ready.”

“deal!” both yours and jungkook’s parents say as soon as you’re done talking.

“then it is settled! prince jungkook and princess ___ will wed next spring!” clementine announces to the hall and cheers erupt through the room once more.

jungkook stands and gives you a tight hug. the moment is all too perfect, the joyous chatter of everyone around you and the warm embrace of the one you love wrapped around you. it’s something you’ve dreamed of. “i won’t let you down, princess.” he promises you, in your ear, only for you to hear.

“i’ll be the best husband this world has ever seen.”

a good husband has to be honest.

jungkook has something to tell you, and he isn’t sure how to word it. he’s scared you’ll be turned off by it. it is a pretty serious topic, so he needs to say it, or else he would feel the guilt start to build in his stomach. then before he knows it, it’ll spill all out. so it’s better to nip the bud. get it done before it becomes a bigger problem.

the two of you were having a sleepover tonight. it’s the first one you guys had since you’ve been back. jungkook brought all the fancy snacks that his mother packed along with some drinks, while you had your contraband: face masks and matching pajamas for the both of you.

he looks funny with his peel off mask drying on his face. you told him not to make any facial expressions or else it wouldn’t work. jungkook’s been pulling a straight face for ten minutes while watching elle woods destroy chutney in the courtroom.

he couldn’t have chosen a worse time to speak up about it, but it’s been eating at him for long enough. “i have to tell you something.” he says out of nowhere. you look at him, trying not to react with your face. his serious tone makes you want to burst out into laughter, it was just so out of place.

but he looks somber, like how he looks when something’s bothering him. you swallow the urge to laugh and just nod. “you can tell me while i peel this mask off your face, deal?” you ask, moving closer and picking at the edge of the mask.

you wait patiently until he spills whatever he needs to say, but he looks a little distracted by the feeling of the face mask being peeled off. he’s already nervous, he tells himself not to get side tracked. so he just spits it out. “i’m not a virgin.”

well. that was one way to start a conversation.

you try not to show your shock, but your eyebrows were already raised and now your facemask is stuck to itself. “oh— oh my god, jungkook,” you laugh, covering your mouth. “do you want a high-five or something?” you can’t hold back the laughter anymore. you raise your hand up and wait for him to reciprocate.

if you were being honest, it did make you a little jealous. you wondered who he lost it to. it was probably jieun. did he love her? enough to want to lose his virtue to her? while the questions run through your mind, he returns the high-five, taking you out of the downward spiral of queries. you weren’t angry at him. there wasn’t an agreement between the two of you that you’d take each other’s virginities. jealousy is unforgiving, because you knew there was no reason to be mad but you still felt the stupid pang in your heart.

you finish taking his mask off, expertly in one piece. jungkook waits for you as you throw it in the trash. he’s still silent, not really knowing what else to say. he was waiting for an argument, in all honesty. but you’re smiling, seemingly unaffected by his confession. “do you wanna help me take off mine?” you ask him, sitting back on the bed, facing him.

he nods, picking at the edge and trying to do exactly what you did. “you’re not upset?” he asks, pulling the mask off of your face. maybe you were, but you weren’t going to tell him. it’s in the past, what matters is now, and he’s here with you now. you couldn’t be too mad.

maybe you should be honest too. you shake your head, “of course not, i’m not a virgin either.” this conversation only proves that there was no need to hide when it came to jungkook. you admired him for speaking up about it first too, even though you aren’t exactly sure why.

jungkook successfully took your mask off in one piece as well, discarding it into the trash can. you tell him that the two of you have to wash your faces to get the tiny pieces off and he follows you into the bathroom. responding with a, “really?” and a raise of his eyebrows.

you turn the water on and splash him a little bit. “are you trying to say i’m too ugly to get laid, jeon?!” you glare.

jungkook backtracks, “no— no! you’re pretty— really pretty— i just— i didn’t know what to say.”

you roll your eyes playfully. rinsing your face with water and making sure your face is entirely clean from the mask before stepping aside and drying your face off, allowing jungkook to have his turn. “who’d you lose it to?” you asked. despite probably already knowing the answer, you just had to make sure.

“uh—” he starts, looking at you through the mirror. his eyes flicker back down to the stream of water when he answers, “jieun.”

of course. you let out a little laugh, stepping closer and nudging his side with your elbow. “congratulations, dude.” at least he told you, at least he was honest. that’s all that matters. jealousy can play it’s part later. after the sleepover.

“what about you?” jungkook asks when he finishes drying his face off. he wants to know, but at the same time he doesn’t. curiosity gets the best of everyone.

“my ex-boyfriend,” you answer nonchalantly. “min yoongi.”

“boyfriend…” he exaggerates. pursing his lips and nodding, the same jealousy you felt earlier coursing through his veins now. “that’s nice— congratulations.” he says, copying what you said. an awkward silence comes between the two of you, in turn, making the two of you laugh out loud. clutching your stomach type of laugh.

“why did you bring it up in the first place?” you question. curious as to why he would need to speak up about his sexual past.

“well, i just wanted to tell you because— i don’t know— when it happened, you were the first one i wanted to tell, and i know it’s too much information but we always talked about stuff like this— like remember when you told me when you got your first period?” he begins to ramble again. a cute habit of his.

you cringe at the mention, but you remember it so well. jungkook was so worried for you, he did all the research he could on menstrual cycles; asked his parents about it, looked online, asked his advisors, and even the doctors that come around the palace for check-ups. with all the advice he got, he showed up in front of your door with a big basket of your favorite sweets, literally every menstrual product ever produced (he wasn’t sure which one you used so he brought all), and other random things like flowers, just to be extra nice. you ended up crying in his arms because of how lovely the gesture was. it showed what kind of person jungkook was. meticulous, caring, and just so sweet.

“you’re right.” the trip down memory lane was delightful, as it always is whenever it comes to him. “but what… about us?” you asked. the question seemed random, but whenever you travel down memory lane with jungkook, you’re always reminded of the feelings that you had and still do have for jungkook. being on this topic makes you wonder: did he bring this up because he wants to have sex and wants to be transparent about how many partners he’s had?

“what do you mean? what about us?” he asks. his eyebrows are furrowed and you can tell he doesn’t understand.

the question shouldn’t have made you hesitate the way you did, but now you’re trying to find the words to backtrack. “i— um,” your smile fades a little. expecting you and jungkook to jump into a relationship was unrealistic, let alone having sex. “nothing.” you shake your head.

jungkook can somehow read your mind. he probably just picked up on context clues. “if you’re thinking about— you know— us, having sex,” he starts. “we don’t have to do anything of that sort, if you don’t want to.”

the thought is something that’s lingered in your mind for a while. same for jungkook. but neither of you will admit that. so the conversation comes to an awkward halt. you blush. “right! yeah— sure, of course.” you nod. every synonym of ‘okay’ leaves your mouth. it makes jungkook laugh, starting a domino effect and making you laugh. soon enough, the conversation was pushed aside and the two of you focused on whatever movie netflix decided to autoplay. it wasn’t long before the buzz of the tv lulled the two of you to sleep.

“jungkook! save me!” you shout from the doors of his palace, spotting him talking to his father in the foyer. you just ran from your castle to his in hopes to outrun your chaser. jungkook’s head turns at the sound of your voice, your figure coming closer and closer.

“what? what is it?” quickly placing the papers in his hand onto the table, he rushes towards you. his face was riddled with worry as he watched you run towards him.

taking you into his arms, you hold him tightly. “venus won’t stop asking me what color the table cloths for the guests should be— please… spare me, my prince.” you fake sob into his chest.

he lets out a relieved laugh, the stress lifting away when he realized that you were just being bombarded with wedding questions again. “shouldn’t they be white?” he asks.

you look up at him in his embrace, chin against his chest, near his throat. “that’s what i said! then she started asking about the details of the cloth— like if we wanted it to be a certain type of thread, if we wanted a different colored detail woven through it— i just— why does it matter?!”

“it matters because it’s going to be the wedding of the century! now tell me, ___, white with gold detail or—” venus finally finds you after asking the guards where you went. she approaches you hurriedly and tries to shove the samples in your face, but you hide in jungkook’s chest, refusing to look at them.

“the gold detail is beautiful, venus, thank you.” jungkook answers for you. you relax against him once again. venus looks satisfied, putting her cloth samples back into her bag and walking away. with venus finally out of your hair, jungkook rubs your back gently. “wanna stay the night?” jungkook asks in your ear.

“depends.” you act like you think about it. pulling away from his embrace, looking at him with a playful glare. “do they still make those strawberry tarts i used to love?”

jungkook smiles. “i’ll ask them to bake you some right now.”

“deal.” you pinch his cheek. “hello, your majesty!” you greet his dad when you turn around. jungkook moves over to the side and tells one of his assistants to ask the kitchen to make your strawberry tarts.

jungkook’s dad gives you a bright smile. “good evening, princess.” even bowing slightly.

“you know you don’t need to do that, papa, it’s just me.” you smiled, giving him a curtsy back for the courtesy

“yes, yes, i know.” he laughs. “i’m just so glad to see you home.” opening his arms for a hug. which you move for immediately, hugging him tightly.

jungkook’s parents were always amazing to you. never making you feel unwelcome or uncomfortable. “i missed you as well, you and mama jeon always make me feel at home whenever i’m here.” you express your gratitude to him.

he holds one of your hands in his. “it is your second home, ___.”

“thank you,” you grinned. when you look down, his hands are holding an entire stack of papers. it must be something important, you excuse yourself so that they could finish their business. “i’ll see you later, papa! jungkook! i’ll be in your room!”

jungkook only gives you a thumbs up as he takes his place back next to his dad. the two of them watch as you skip your way up the stairs. your figure receding as you make it to his room when jungkook’s dad speaks up once more. “she is something else, son.” patting his back with a light laugh.

jungkook laughs too. a big smile on his face when he says, “in the best way possible.”

“agreed.” he replicates the same smile that’s on his son’s face. “i’m happy for you.”

when he looks down, his father holds out the papers to verify the marriage arrangement for him to sign. your family had already signed and his parents did too, a while ago. jungkook told them that he’ll only sign after you did. then, just after breakfast when the two of you announced your agreement to the arrangement, you signed happily. it’s a little late because jungkook’s been super busy, but now, with excitement in his heart for your future together, he scribbles his signature on the line. “thanks, dad.” he says as he hands the papers back to him.

they settle the rest of their business and finish signing some more papers. after about ten minutes, jungkook is finished with all the reading and signatures. he makes his way to the kitchen and the chefs hand him a platter of strawberry tarts on the cutest serving plate. white with little red hearts that match the strawberries. a detail that jungkook knows you’ll appreciate.

with two waters in his hand and the tarts in the other, he makes his way up the stairs. hilariously, a problem arises when jungkook needs to open the door to his room. he doesn’t wanna put the stuff down and he figures that you probably can’t hear him if he knocks because the volume of the tv is leaking through the door. in the corner of his eye, jungkook can see a guard crossing the hallway. “psst!” he calls out, hoping to get his attention. the guard passes by without a second thought. a few seconds pass and he can hear the guard take a couple steps back.

soon enough, the guard pops his head into the hallway. “everything alright, your highness?” he asks.

“yes, but— do you mind opening the door for me?” he laughs awkwardly. the guard nods and rushes over, turning the knob and sliding the door open. “thanks, man, have a good night.” he smiles at the guard.

“of course— you too, your highness.” he bows before leaving him be.

when he enters the room, you’re nowhere to be seen. the tv is on and playing some scary movie from what he can tell, the background music is eerie and quite frankly creeping him out. he sets down the waters first onto his bedside table and you come out of his bathroom at the perfect time. “there you are.” he sighs. “how are you just going to play a scary movie and then make me come into an empty room?!” he cries.

you roll your eyes playfully. “my apologies, prince, i didn’t hear you come in!” sporting a hoodie and a pair of boxers stolen from jungkook’s closet, you jump into his bed and eye the beautifully plated tarts in his grasp.

jungkook tries not to get distracted by the way you look right now. so cute in his clothes. he wonders if you caught the way that he looked you up and down. when he realizes that you’ve been staring at the tarts, he refocuses and picks up one of the pastries, holding it close to your mouth “your tarts, your majesty.” when you open to take a bite, he snatches it back quickly and takes a bite himself. his face contorted in pleasure, the treat was perfect amounts sweet and sour.

“jungkook,” you deadpanned. your straight face breaks into laughter not even a second later when he holds the bitten pastry back up to your mouth. “you literally ate half of it!”

“then eat the rest of it!” he shoots back with a laugh. you roll your eyes, taking the rest of the pastry into your mouth. in turn, your lips slightly graze against his fingers. it wasn’t helping that your eyes were looking directly into jungkook’s. it was quite obvious that there was some tension here.

neither of you knew how to address moments like this.

most of the time the two of you just act like it never happened. but they’ve just been happening a little too often these days. like that one time you and jungkook almost kissed after he helped you put on a necklace. that time you and jungkook were hiding from blue; he held his hand over your mouth and the other arm tightly around your waist so you wouldn’t move or make a noise. then now, your sex eyes peering directly into his as your lips graze his fingers. yeah… it was a hard thing to talk about.

jungkook is just as confused as you when it comes to whatever the two of you were. just best friends? engaged but friends? dating? no, that wouldn’t be right. jungkook should ask you to be his girlfriend, er— fiancee, right? just because the two of you are arranged to be married doesn’t mean the two of you go from best friends to a pair of lovers just like that, even with requited feelings.

communication wasn’t a hard thing for the two of you. being best friends for twenty years does that to you. fights, the silent treatment, and even that one period of time where you swore that you’d never talk to jungkook ever again; you guys have been through it all.

it’s just that— neither of you really know how to go about it. this conversation was awkward. maybe it’s just not time to talk about it yet, jungkook thought. you were so busy these days. your advisors would pull you away from him before he even got a word in.

then when you two do get the time to spend with each other, the both of you are usually exhausted from the days you’ve had. even though the wedding was an entire year away, there was way more planning than either of you expected. everyone wants it to be perfect. which is nice in hindsight, but it does get annoying sometimes. like how venus was hounding you earlier for the choice of table cloths.

so the two of you just ignore it for now. maybe when it becomes more of a problem, you’ll talk about it with each other. but for now, it’s just something neither of you are ready to face. you chew and swallow the rest of the tart while jungkook moves into the bathroom to get ready for bed. giving the both of you enough time to calm down and gather your thoughts.

when he comes back out, you’ve eaten at least three more strawberry tarts and started a new movie. another scary one. jungkook doesn’t understand how you can watch these kinds of things before you go to sleep, it’s like you’re immune to nightmares or something.

but you weren’t immune to feeling tired. just before jungkook joins you in bed, you let out a yawn before stretching your limbs a little bit.

“tired?” jungkook asks, pulling the comforter over his legs.

you nod, “a little.”

he smiles. “it’s late,” he nods to the clock on his night stand. one in the morning. “sleep, you did a lot of work today.”

“i know,” you groan. “just one more bite.” trying to fit an entire strawberry tart into your mouth was a bad decision. the pastry crumbled into your throat and had you choking for a minute.

jungkook comes to the rescue with your glass of water and a hand rubbing circles against your back. “alright, alright.” he laughs. “no more tarts— go to sleep, princess.”

when you’ve come down from your coughing fit, you nod before you tell him that you’re going to call seungyeon and jimin. “let me just update them about the wedding planning— they’re gonna laugh about everything, i just know it!”

“it’s supposed to be a secret, princess.” jungkook shakes his head, watching as your hands pull out your phone at lightning speed.

“oh… really?” you pause, “i’ve been telling them everything since we’ve started.” jungkook only laughs. he could never be mad at that, why wouldn’t you wanna share something like this with your friends?

“just make sure your advisors don’t find out, okay?” he holds his pinky up for a classic promise, which you reciprocate.

the next fifteen minutes or so, jungkook acts like he isn’t listening to your conversation as he immerses himself into the storyline of this movie, it was interesting but not as interesting as the way you tell them about the wedding. you sound so excited, telling seungyeon that you’re gonna have to go dress shopping soon and that you want her to be there and everything. it makes jungkook smile. it’s more back and forth between the two of you, seungyeon saying of course she’ll be there and you saying that she better because you’re sending a jet to her. it was quite funny.

then seungyeon’s voice rings over the line, updating you about how jimin’s prepping for his big dance recital on saturday and how much they miss you.

you wish you could go to support him. jimin’s been dancing for as long as he’s lived. he’s so passionate about it and you admire him for it. he talked your ear off about how excited he was about this performance. that the crowd is going to be the biggest he’s ever performed for and how scouts will be in the audience. you wished you could go.

the way your voice shakes isn’t something you can hide very well. over the phone it may pass off as a breath you took too long to breathe in, but in person, jungkook can hear the way that your voice gives way to the tears building in your eyes. “tell him i wish him the best of luck.”

“of course,” she answers. “oh! and i was able to take some pictures when we went into the city, you remember all those hole-in-the-wall spots, right? turns out they’re great for photography!”

not long after, you received an email notification. containing the pictures that seungyeon took and they were beautiful. the city's night lights make everything look so cool, like a movie.

you miss the city. you miss your friends.

“they’re gorgeous,” you tell her. scrolling through picture after picture. seungyeon rambles more about a new restaurant they found that she hopes to bring you (and jungkook) to when they have the chance. jungkook could see the way that your energy changed. you’re sad now. he can feel it. he knows you miss the city. the way you slowly scroll through the pictures, longing to be there instead of having to look at a picture of it through a screen.

the gears in his head turn. a plan has already been set into motion for a date between the two of you. yugyeom, taehyung, and eunwoo have all been trying to pitch in, give him ideas as to where to go, what to do. but jungkook thinks he knows exactly what to do. he wanted to do this right.

so that next morning, jungkook makes an important phone call after retrieving the phone number from namjoon.

“hello, jimin? this is jungkook…”

it’s already been a week and a half since you and jungkook agreed to an arranged marriage. you’ve only been able to see him five out of the twelve days. busy was an understatement. venus said there is too much to do and that even a year isn’t enough time to get everything done. it seems like an exaggeration, in your opinion. sure, a wedding was a lot of work, but did you really need to be there to confirm everything?

maybe venus will let you have a break one of these days. you don’t suspect it to be anytime soon. today, you were told to wake up early (six in the morning type of early) and get dressed. no one told you exactly why, but you listened and once you were ready, made your way to the briefing room.

when you push the big doors open, venus eyes you suspiciously. “princess, what are you doing here? we are not wedding planning today.”

you furrow your eyebrows. “then what are we doing?”

“you are going on a plane, something about a political appearance.” she winks. walking your way and weaving her arm through yours to lead you out.

“already? mother said appearances weren’t for another month!” you groaned.

“sorry, princess.” she laughs. “your bags are being packed as we speak, just go freshen up and we’ll meet jungkook and blue at the royal runway.”

“got it.” you assure her. ah, such a good kid. venus thinks. you don’t even question the random political appearance and just accept it at face value. she knows you’ll be surprised. you don’t even suspect a thing!

after maybe ten minutes, you walk with venus down to the runway and meet up with the boys. jungkook seems a little nervous. he’s doing that thing where he shifts his weight on his feet. “you okay?” you ask him.

“yeah! yeah— why wouldn’t i be?” jungkook answers. a smile that’s way too bright is displayed on his face. you suspect it’s just nerves for the speech he’s probably gonna have to do.

“if you’re nervous, just remember i’ll be right there next to you, yeah?” you assure him. gently taking his hand into yours.

jungkook is suddenly reminded why he shouldn’t be so damn nervous. because it’s you. he gets to be with you. to marry you. of course, he wants it to be perfect, that’s why he keeps going over everything in his head, making sure he’s got everything down. but it’s you. his best friend. when he looks at you, his nerves are at ease. that burning feeling in his chest dies down and his throat no longer feels like closing in on itself.

he lets out a breath. “ready?”

you nod, “where are we going anyway? venus never told me.” stepping up into the aircraft and taking your seat, jungkook and blue follow suit.

“i think we’re going to gotia, right, blue?” jungkook answers, turning his head to namjoon. his face directly telling him to go along with it.

“yes, your highness, gotia.” namjoon smiles brightly.

your eyebrows knit together. they’re acting weird again. “alright…” you say, suspicious of them already. “wake me up when we’re there.”

apparently, you were exhausted. you slept through the entire plane ride and it was a fifteen hour plane ride. namjoon said you did this the last time too. only waking up to eat and talk briefly before falling asleep again. it was a great time for namjoon and jungkook to gather blackmail photos for themselves as your sleeping faces are unbeatable. even when you land, you don’t wake up. jungkook isn’t gonna be the one to wake you up, so he gently lifts you up, bridal style. you don’t even bother opening your eyes, you just cuddle into his further. jungkook was always so warm, and so strong. he carries you into a car and lets you continue sleeping there, with your head on his shoulder.

after about twenty minutes of traffic, you finally decide to open your eyes. suddenly conscious of the way that jungkook’s hand is intertwined with yours. you don’t mind, his hand felt nice in yours. with sleep-riddled eyes, you look outside the window to see city infrastructure; which is not very common in gotia. gotia is a green mountain country, known particularly for their abundance of livestock and green grass.

you give them the benefit of doubt, perhaps you guys were just going somewhere in gotia that you’ve never been before. so you ask, “where exactly in gotia are we going?”

jungkook smiles. a very mischievous smile. “you’ll see when we get there, princess, don’t worry.”

hm, suspicious. this time you sit up, the seat belt digging into your belly when you push forward to lean against the front seat. “blue, where are we going?” you ask your trusty body guard.

“i am just following directions, your highness.” he tells you with a tight grin.

you were already suspicious during the plane ride, and now since neither jungkook or namjoon want to tell you where you’re going; you’re starting to put the pieces together. they’re gonna make you play that game where blue drops you and jungkook off in a random location and the two of you have to figure out where to go from there. and from your own experience: it sucks! so you scoff. “you guys are kidnapping me! hand me my phone, i am calling my father.” holding your hand out with your palm facing up. both of them laugh, jungkook places his hand on yours instead of giving you your phone.

“just wait a little longer, princess.” jungkook tells you as he intertwines your fingers together.

another few minutes and you’re still unsure of where you are, the dark tint of the windows is only adding onto the difficulty to spot the exact location. blue stops abruptly and turns to the two of you, “i was told to let you off here.” he says. the street is empty, but somewhat familiar. you weren’t able to get another look before jungkook covered your eyes.

“it’s a surprise, close your eyes.” he says. out of habit, you close your eyes, giving your trust to jungkook. jungkook steps out of the car first and then the door to the left of you opens. you keep your eyes closed and scoot out of the car with jungkooks’ help. he helps you out and onto the ground where he leads you somewhere onto the sidewalk.

“can i open my eyes now?” you ask, still squeezing your eyes shut.

“in a sec,” jungkook promises. bringing you a little further, you can hear him open a door and feel him lead you inside. “you can open your eyes now, we have to go up some stairs first.” he tells you.

when you open your eyes, you’re in a staircase with carpeted floors and metal railings. it looks fancy. the two of you make it up the stairs and you still can’t tell where the hell you are before jungkook tells you to close your eyes again. he opens another door and leads you out, leading you through a curtain you can feel. now you can hear some noise, quiet bickers of a crowd of people. it had to be hundreds of people out there.

you hear jungkook sit down beside you before he speaks up once more, “okay, open.”

scared, you only open your right eye just a peek. from the image, there’s an entire crowd below you. you’re in a theater of some sort. no, wait— it’s not just some theater, it’s the theater. the one that jimin’s performing at! that’s when your eyes shoot open. you’re back in the city, with jungkook by your side, about to watch your best friends’ performance.

“no way.” you spoke quietly, facing jungkook. he only smiles at you, holding your hand in his. “did you really do this for me?” the two of you sat in the highest box seat, jimin called them ‘the rich people seats.’ no one can really see you from here and you had one of the best views; it was perfect.

it was just so thoughtful. he must have noticed how homesick you were feeling, how much you yearned to see your friends again. this is the best gift you could have ever received. you’re not even sure what to say, and jungkook understands. he doesn’t expect any thank you’s or a major display of affection. he’s just happy that you’re happy.

when the lights dim and the music begins to play, you can’t help but feel the tears start to build in your eyes. “thank you, jungkook, so much.” you pull yourself close to him, laying your head on his shoulder.

“of course, princess.” he tells you, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in closer. “anything for you.”

with that, a tear falls and the curtains are drawn. revealing jimin standing in position with a beautiful dark forest background, performing his black swan routine. one of his longest and most physically intensive choreography he’s ever made. but it’s so damn gorgeous. he performs flawlessly and receives a standing ovation. you couldn’t have been any happier for him.

during the extended applause, jungkook stands up pulls you along, through another carpeted hallway. “wait— where are we going?” you ask him. his other hand holds a bouquet that literally came out of nowhere. “and where did you get those flowers?!”

“we’re gonna see jimin!” he tells you as he maneuvers through the never ending hallways. “oh, and i hid these— so you could give them to jimin.”

the two of you stop just before another door, you pull him back gently. “what? people are going to see us, jungkook, we aren’t allowed to be outside of the kingdom without proper guards.”

“no one will see us, i promise, jimin will meet us here in this room.” he tells you. the both of you peek through the door window, it was an empty practice room. the door on the other side of the room opens and it’s the cue that it’s safe to come in. “ready?” he asks, holding the flowers out for you to take.

you start crying again, it was immediate. jungkook wipes the tears away quickly, “don’t cry, princess.” he places a sweet kiss on your forehead before he hands you the bouquet and opens the door for you.

then there in the middle of the room stands your best friend. his arms open for a hug and you run into them. crying even harder when you realize that jimin is crying too, you can hear the way he sniffles. “why are you crying?! you did amazing!” you sob.

“because you’re here and everything went perfectly— it’s just overwhelming.” he admits, pulling back from the hug. the two of you laugh at your crying faces.

“congratulations, jimin.” you tell him, holding out the flowers for him.

“thank you, ___.” he accepts them with a smile, wiping his tears and turning his attention to jungkook, who stands at the door as a lookout. “jungkook—! oh crap, wait— should i call him majesty or highness or something?” jimin’s quickly tries to correct himself, asking you for advice.

you can only laugh and shake your head. “you can just call him jungkook.”

“i was called?” jungkook stands just behind you, with a smile on his face.

“yeah, man— come here.” jimin embraces him in a hug and jungkook doesn’t object it.

rubbing his back, jungkook congratulates him as well. “you’re incredibly talented, jimin.” he smiles when he pulls away. “it’s great to finally meet you in person.”

“thank—”

“jimin! it’s curtain call!” a lady barges into the practice room. she stands speechless for a second, her eyes darting straight to jungkook. “wait, is that prince jungkook?!” all of you are wide eyed. jimin’s mouth is silently telling you two to ‘run!’ before you knew it, she was pulling out her phone, trying to take a picture.

jimin is quick to block the camera as he shouts. “go! hurry!” the two of you rush out of the door you came from. you and jungkook bolt back to the car, blue is a little startled when you both jump in, breathless.

“everything alrig—“

“drive!” you demanded.

“shit— alright!” blue complies and steps on the gas, getting you out of the parking spot behind the theater and now onto the streets of the city.

now that everyone’s calmed down. you just realized that you, again, have no idea where you were going. “now where are we off to? it’s about eleven o’clock, right?”

“go with the plan, blue.” jungkook tells him. with the creepy wording, you begin to feel more suspicion around the two of them. what more surprises could there be?

the three of you spent another fifteen or so minutes of driving, and quite frankly you were tired of looking for little landmarks to pinpoint where you were. just as you were about to ask again, blue stops the car and looks at jungkook.

“okay, another surprise— close your eyes.” jungkook says. you can’t help but admit this is kind of fun. sure, you were annoying the hell out of the boys for the past fifteen minutes asking when you were gonna get there and where you were going. but they love you either way.

you keep your eyes squeezed shut as jungkook helps you out of the car and onto another sidewalk. “just a little further.” he says, leading you closer to whatever it was. just before he speaks again, you hear a little jingle. “okay, open.”

when your eyes finally adjust to the city lights, you recognize the building entirely too well. a place that you lived for five years. “is this— are we— no way!” you stutter, purely out of surprise. you were sure that you weren’t going to see this place for at least another decade.

you stand there speechless, just like how you did at jimin’s recital, for a good minute or so. jungkook has to wave his hand in front of your face to break you out of the trance.

“so, are you gonna show me your apartment or not?” jungkook grins, holding up your cutely decorated keychain. you squeal in excitement as he hands you the keys and you drag him into the building. it’s only been about a month and a half since you’ve last seen it, but it feels so nostalgic. it feels special. you suspect it’s because of the man whose hand you’re holding right now.

up the elevator and to the left, the apartment labeled with a silver plated 101 beckons you inside. soon enough, you’re pulling jungkook through the door and giving him a detailed tour of your shoe closet that is right there when you walk in.

as the two of you walk around, it’s cleaner than you remember. venus must have gotten people to tidy the place up after you left. just as you finish the very short tour of your apartment, you remember that you’d left some things from jimin and seungyeon in your room. “make yourself at home, my prince, i’ll just be in my room, collecting some things.” you excuse yourself and let jungkook look around some more.

if jungkook were honest, he would have told you that he got a bit of whiplash from your tour. he was turning every two seconds because you were speaking so fast. you were just so excited, and jungkook couldn’t have been happier. everything was going exactly as planned. the clock was ticking and jungkook did have a schedule to be on, but there was nothing wrong with a little snooping around your apartment. he wanted to see the place that you called home for the past five years.

your couch looks cozy, blankets on one side with decorative pillows to adorn the piece of furniture. your coffee table is cute too. you’ve got good taste. everything just seems so you. so when jungkook turns toward the bookcase you mentioned earlier into your tour. it was crowded with books, photo albums, cd’s, and records. a specific photo album catches his eyes, a cute light blue album. on the spine it was labeled: ‘jjk’ and from what jungkook knows, it must be his initials.

it’s when he opens it is when he confirms. the album is full of pictures of the two of you when you were kids, at every festival, from infant to teens. flipping through the pages, both of your smiles never changed. over the years; in both of your eyes, the certain glimmer of love shines so brightly. he puts it back with a soft smile after he’s flipped through all the pages. another book catches his eyes, your favorite fairy tale story: hansel and gretel. while everyone made fun of your choice of story, jungkook thought it was cool. you were all about safety and stranger danger, therefore making hansel and gretel a good story for kids to read (in your opinion.) you always read it when you needed to make an important decision, you called it a comfort read. it helped you get into the right mindset, think about all the pros and especially the cons of the decision you were about to make.

jungkook was only going to look at it and flip through the pages mindlessly. but when he pulls it out of its place in the bookshelf, two envelopes fall out from between the pages. squatting down, he picks up the fallen pieces of paper and coincidentally, sees his name on one of the letters. the other is blank, just a plain envelope. if it was addressed to him, then it means it was meant for him, therefore, he could read it… right?

jungkook,

if you are reading this, then that means i’ve already left for the city.

first, i wanted to apologize: for everything. for not telling you that i would leave sooner, for leaving you, for not telling you how i felt.

i was scared terrified that i would ruin our friendship if i ever told you, but now, since i don’t know if i’ll ever come back. i need to get this off my chest.

i’ve wanted to tell you this for the longest time.

jeon jungkook, i am in love with you.

i’m sorry this is how you had to find out, i’m sorry i didn’t have the courage to tell you in person.

but i love you, and i think i always will.

i hope you will be happy, whoever you marry. i hope they love you the way you deserve.

i hope to be at your wedding when i hear the news.

i’m sorry again.

sincerely,

___

easily, his eyes gloss over. you’ve loved him all along. he should have known. how could he have not known? thoughts run through his mind at hundreds of miles an hour; what would have happened if you did give this to him when you left. he probably would have gotten on the next plane out and searched the city to find you. probably would have done the exact same thing he did recently, beg you to give the two of you a chance. he shakes his head, sliding the letter back into its envelope. reading the other letters wouldn’t hurt, right?

of course not, he tells himself. he was always so nosy. the blank envelope held multiple pieces of paper. most of them were unfinished confessions to him, smudged black ink with multiple sentences crossed off. from what he can count, you wanted to confess to him at least five times now.

jungkook isn’t sure how he feels, he just knows how in love he is. this feeling of being surrounded by warmth, it’s enough to make a tear slip out. he can’t help but smile either. this is the boost of confidence he needed for tonight. he was so nervous before, that everything would go terribly wrong, but now he’s just so… content, so happy. he wanted to hug you, kiss you, everything. so he puts the envelopes back into the book, places it back into the shelf and makes his way to your room. your body hovers over your vanity, digging through your jewelry box.

“my princess.” jungkook pouts even though you can’t see him. coming from behind, he hugs you tightly and rests his head against yours. he tries to hide the way that his tears began to tear up. you look up from your tangle of necklaces, turning and taking him into your arms.

“are you crying?” the single tear that rolls down his cheek grabs your attention. your hand immediately coming up to wipe it away. “what’s wrong? do you hate my little apartment that much?” you let out a laugh.

he laughs too, shaking his head with a smile. “your little apartment is perfect— i love it actually, i love you.”

“aw,” you mumble against his chest. “i love you too, even though you’re acting super weird.” the two of you stand there, swaying in a hug for a little longer.

“am not.” he rests his chin atop your head.

“whatever you say.” you hum, pulling him towards your prized possession— your queen sized bed. the two of you plop on top, your fluffy comforter proving to be one of the best purchases you have ever made in your entire life. the two of you lay there in silence for a little bit, you almost fall asleep due to how warm jungkook is.

“as much as i would love to cuddle and take a nap in your bed, we’re on a tight schedule— c’mon.” jungkook says as he stands from your bed, pulling you up.

“a schedule?” you quirk an eyebrow. “what else are we gonna do in the city? our faces are plastered all over the internet, not to mention you’re the most-thirsted-after prince in the entire world.” you ask as he tugs you through the hallway and back into the living room.

“can you show me the roof?” jungkook asks. a sly smile on his face, while you’re still completely clueless.

“of course!” you squeal, excited to show him the amazing view of the city the roof of your building has. the two of you exit your apartment and you pull him up another two flights of stairs. “usually it’s kind of dirty, so don’t mind the mess.” you warn before opening the heavy door.

but when you push it open, the roof is…clean. it’s decorated too. it’s not the same as you last saw it. “huh— would you look at that?” jungkook steps out onto the roof first, with his hands on his hips as he looks back at you. “it looks pretty clean— and look! it’s set up for dinner...?” he acts surprised. his eyebrows raised as the two of you walk towards the dinner table. he pulls out the chair for you to sit down and you can’t help but let out a little laugh.

“so this was your plan.” you snort. dinner was in the shape of cups of ice cream. it was adorable. “ice cream for dinner?”

jungkook nods, handing you a tiny spoon for the ice cream. “your favorite.”

he did all of this for me. you realize the effort. he must have gone through meticulous planning and conspiring all of this in secret. he’s good. really good. god, you could kiss him.

the two of you sit there in the ambiance of the late city night, eating ice cream and having a small conversation. whenever the conversation paused, you could hear some music playing quietly in the back.

jungkook really did deserve the mantle of prince charming. king of romance. ruler of your heart.

“do you hear that?” jungkook asks, holding a hand out next to his ear. a familiar tune playing from wherever the music was. standing up, he extends his grasp for you to take. “a dance, princess?”

“you know i have two left feet.” you try to decline him, remembering how taehyung teased you about the way that you tripped over his feet when the two of you danced at your welcome home party. but jungkook doesn’t mind. he loves dancing with you, always has. he loves the way that your feet crash into his, how focused you get when you try not to get the moves wrong. he wanted to waltz with you everywhere, even if you stood on his feet the entire time.

“just follow me, alright?” he smiles. giving in, you take his hand and the two of you make your way to the middle of the rooftop. the night sky bearing witness to one of the most romantic things you’ve ever received. you feel his hand wrap around your waist, guiding you to step where he does.

“sparks, huh?” you smile, finally putting a title on the song playing. “kind of a sad song to dance to.” following his moves, dancing does seem a little easier with jungkook there.

“i thought it was perfect.” he states, leading you in for a twirl and then back into his arms. “it explains exactly how i feel about you.

“yeah?” you look up to him. even in this faint lighting, the abandoned flickering light bulbs that hang from strings all across the rooftop from an old tenant party, he still shines so bright.

he nods. the two of you silently sway for another few beats of the song. you lay your head against his chest, the beat of his heart is as calming as the music in the back. maybe if you just leave your eyes closed, this moment could last forever.

meanwhile, jungkook is trying to amp himself up to get these words out. another confession and an important question sits heavy on his tongue. he knows you feel the same, knows that you’ll accept, but he’s still so nervous. what if you don’t say yes and he’s left there with his knee against the rough concrete floor? what if this was just too cheesy for you and you hate it?

jungkook tells himself there’s only one way to find out.

“i— can i tell you something?” he asks. you lift your head away and look in his eyes, they greet you with that sweet eye smile that hasn’t changed in all the days you’ve known him.

“of course.” you pull yourself back, holding his hands.

“when you were gone...i was always afraid that i was romanticizing you— i had nothing but our memories and the small talks we would have sometimes through our parents,” he admits. “i was scared that i was in love with the idea of you, and not… you— you know?”

his confession makes you stop in your tracks, clear disbelief on your face as you drop his hands from your grasp. “what?! jungkook— why are you telling me this now?” you groan, folding your arms over your chest. you move to grab your phone to find a way to reverse this. “you know what— it’s not too late to cancel the engagement and call up the king of fenutar— i’m sure they’ll forgive you— yeah, let’s give them a call—”

he pulls you back gently, “princess, relax.” he laughs. “i was just getting started.”

your gaze softens, letting him finish his point as he restarts the sway. your feet move with his, slowly to the beat of the song playing in the back. it’s changed to something calmer, from what you could hear, it sounds like cigarettes after sex.

“this past month, ever since you came back—” he starts up once more. you attention falling back onto him instead of the music in the back. “i don’t know what it is, but i think i was wrong.” he says. you gently furrow your eyebrows. confused as to what he means. jungkook brings his hand up to your face, cupping your jaw before raising his thumb to soothe the creases in your forehead.

relaxing your muscles under his touch, he lowers his hands back down to hold your hands. he says the next words, staring straight into your eyes. “i love you, i always want to be around you, i wonder if you are alright— if you’re sad, because i want to be there for you, i want to take care of you.” your hands are pulled close to him, enough for him to be able to gently press a kiss against your knuckles. “i want to be by your side, against foes seen and unseen.”

“so—“ he lets go of your hand to pull a tiny white box out from his pocket and gets on one knee. “will you marry me?”

the rough ground against his clothed knee doesn’t matter anymore when he sees the sweetest smile on your face. everything is perfect.

you let out a little laugh, your smile going from ear to ear. “yes! of course— yes, yes!” tears collect in your eyes quickly. holding your arms out for him, jungkook comes up and collects your embrace. a tear slips out and he can hear your sniffle. gently, he wipes the tear away, and the two of you stare at each other just long enough. long enough to understand that this was the time.

you both lean forward and finally, let your lips connect. a kiss seals the fate of both hearts involved.

dreaming of this moment ever since you were fifteen has given you quite high expectations for it, but jungkook always exceeds expectations. even when you think he couldn’t be anymore perfect, he always has something up his sleeve. it shows in the way his kiss is gentle, but so passionate. transferring his love to you in the most efficient way possible.

jungkook is in dreamland almost. wonders if this is what being on drugs is like. pure euphoria. knows that this is what love stories are based off of. pure adoration. fears what he’ll do if he won’t be able to kiss you. the beginning of an addiction. your lips, they take him prisoner.

slowly, the two of you pull away and stare at each other like love sick puppies. jungkook holds your face in his hand as you lean into his grasp. the sound of confetti poppers startle you, flinching at the noise before looking to see what happened. through the rain of confetti, you can see all of them. seungyeon, jimin, blue, taehyung, eunwoo, and yugyeom. you didn’t think it could get any better. you were so happy.

“congratulations, your majesties.” blue moves forward after the confetti settles and hands the two of you a purple rose. the national flower of raemor and it was a common tradition to give engaged couples raemors for good luck all throughout their relationship and marriage. you thank blue with a hug and so does jungkook. jimin and seungyeon also congratulate you, seungyeon pulls out her camera and shows you the pictures she took while she was hidden with everyone behind the huge skylights.

eunwoo takes hold of your hand gently, raising the ring up for everyone to see. jimin and seungyeon also come close to get a better look, holding your arm still. “that rock is adorable, jungkook.” he pats him on the back. making slight fun of the stones size. everyone in the kingdom was used to huge gems, rings that would weigh down the finger of the wearer. you give eunwoo a light shove.

the ring was your style. it was actually really thoughtful too. there were conversations where you and jungkook would gossip about the adults sometimes, you knew everything back then. who was cheating on who, whose wives knew about the mistress, whose husbands knew about the paramour. then most of the time, they would solve it through money. buying bigger, more expensive material things to woo them, to make them forget the betrayals. you hated it. you specifically remember telling jungkook that you’d rather have a small ring and a great love, instead of a big ring and a loveless marriage.

so when you stare at the pretty gem laid on your ring finger, you realize it’s just more evidence that jungkook listens, and he takes your words into account. you couldn’t have been happier with the piece of jewelry. “i think it’s beautiful.” you pout in defense of the ring.

“it’s a red diamond.” namjoon tells them. “one of the rarest diamonds in the world.”

“how much is it?” yugyeom peers at the ring as well, he likes the way it sparkles even without the light.

“it doesn’t matter!” you groan, looking at jungkook for some help as four different people have your hand in their grasp.

“the diamond itself is roughly about five million— the rest of the ring, i can’t say.” namjoon shrugs nonchalantly.

jimin and seungyeon gasp at the same time, same pitch. both yugyeom and eunwoo’s eyes almost bulge out of their sockets. “sorry man— i thought it was a ruby.” eunwoo scratches the back of his head. jungkook only laughs at the conversation, not taking any of it to heart, along with taehyung (and chaeyoung!) who helped him customize the ring in the first place.

“five million?! are you serious?” you turn to him, about to scold him for wasting his money. just for an engagement ring too?!

he catches your hand before you can shove him like you did eunwoo. he brings it to his mouth, kissing your ring finger gently. before coming close to your ear, he whispers, “it’s worth way more than five million.”

“jungkook!”

taglist: @kookxin @fan-ati--c

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fanficimagery · 3 years

Text

The Witch’s Companion

Imagine settling down in La Push and instantly hitting it off with a group of locals. You have an instant connection with Sam Uley and though you know exactly what the connection is, you find that you would rather have Sam tell you what it is. Only he has trouble finding a way and you find it rather amusing since you already know all about the supernatural realm. After all, you are a part of it.

Words: 6.3K Author’s Note: This is so bad, but I didn’t wanna trash it. I needed something to post. My apologies.

Since coming into your magic, you've always felt like something was missing. No matter how much you studied or how much progress you made in mastering your abilities, you always felt incomplete. You stayed home long enough to complete your high school education and then worked a few years to earn some cash before deciding to take a chance out in the real world on your own.

Fortunately for you, however, your family knew you'd be leaving the coven and they were more than prepared to send you on your way with funds they had saved up over the years themselves. It was a tearful goodbye, but as soon as you were on the road you felt it in every fiber of your being that you were making the right choice.

You drove for hours on end, not content enough to stop until the moon was high in the sky, and then found the least skeezy motel you could find to stay the night in. Then after paying for the night and putting a sigil of protection on your truck so no one could peek through the windows or break a window without setting off a blaring alarm, you showered and prepared for bed. But as you laid in bed, you tossed and turned as your brain wouldn't shut off. So instead of counting sheep, you got back up and dug out some of your supplies from the bag you kept close to you at all times.

As you sat on the floor with your legs crossed beneath you and a map spread out in front of you, you lit four white candles and placed one on each corner of the map. You took a white crystal on a chain and let it pool in your hand before closing your eyes, then holding the crystal against your chest. With nothing but good intentions and the hope of finding that missing part of you, you rubbed the crystal over your heart before grabbing the chain and letting the crystal hang over the map. And then with your eyes still closed, you twirled the crystal over the map before holding your hand still and letting spirits guide the crystal so you have an inkling of where to drive next.

Minutes passed and when you felt the chain still in your hand, you opened your eyes and found the tip of the crystal pointing towards the North-West portion of the map. So with somewhat of a destination in mind, you packed your belongings and was finally able to fall asleep.

Over the next few days you drove and drove, stopping for bathroom breaks, food and rest when necessary. When you hit the west coast and then started driving north, you were skeptical about where the crystal had really been pointing. But then you get to Forks, Washington and something just feels different. It doesn't feel right, but it's damn near close and you decide to drive around some more.

It isn't until you drive onto the reservation in La Push that it feels like you can properly breathe for the first time ever and you nearly cry tears of relief. But before you can start making plans of settling down, you know there are some things that must be addressed. Because growing up in a coven and learning of every supernatural creature you could, you know La Push is home to the legends of spirit warriors. And behind every legend is truth. So in order to be on good terms with the locals and the elders of the tribe, you know you must ask permission to stay on their lands.

The elders, surprisingly, needed no convincing. They were wary of a witch's presence at first, but after explaining everything to them they seemed to perk up with interest. More than a couple of the elders had twinkling eyes when you spoke of feeling as if a part of you was missing and that you only felt at complete ease once you crossed their borders. They even gave you a few suggestions on available houses in the area and you took your leave after asking them to keep your heritage a secret. You wanted to meet people on your own time and not have anyone seek you out because of what you could do. They completely understood and wished you well.

So a couple weeks later, here you are staring up at your very own two bedroom house. You had some cash put away for this exact occasion, but really it was the elders of La Push who were such a tremendous help in helping you purchase the place. The house itself was practically surrounded by trees and far enough away from any neighbors which granted you all the privacy you needed. So in other words, it was perfect.

You still need furniture and appliances to fill the house, so you've given yourself a time limit of about a week to get everything you need because that's as long as you're willing to stay in a small motel down in Forks. You've already ordered a basic refrigerator and stove, and they're to be delivered in a couple days time. You're still on the lookout for beds and couches, but nothing's caught your eye, so for now you've come to the house prepared with cleaning supplies.

The inside of the house is in pretty great condition, the only thing you really have to do is give it a good dusting, wipe down, and mopping. So after opening up all the windows, you walked around the house with a duster on an extendable arm made sure to dust every corner, nook and cranny of the room. You Windex every glass surface you can before sweeping the floors and then fill up a mop bucket to get started on the floors.

Afterwards, as the floors finish drying, you sit on the porch with a sandwich and Gatorade you had packed into a small ice chest. When you're a little more halfway through, two trucks rumble down the path to your house and you set aside your food in order to stand up and greet them.

Tribal Elder Harry Clearwater is easily recognizable, as is his beautiful wife Sue who is sitting in the passenger seat across from him. The two boys in the truck behind them, however, are new.

Stepping off the porch and meeting your guests halfway, you greet them all with a smile. Sue is the only one to receive a hug whereas Harry offers a handshake. "Hello, Harry. What brings you down here?"

The older man chuckles. "Just wanted to see how you were settling in and introduce you to a few of the young ones."

You finally meet the gazes of the boys behind Harry, taking note of the tribal tattoos on their upper biceps that they're showing off thanks to their sleeveless shirts. Both are wearing cargo shirts and have bare feet which you hardly bat an eye at. "Hello." You wave at them, smiling softly.

"Hey," the slightly shorter of the two smirks, leaning forward and offering his hand, "I'm Paul."

As you grasp his hand, his warmth sends shivers down your spine. "Y/N. It's nice to meet you."

Paul shakes your hand a little longer than normal and you find yourself fighting back a laugh. "Paul, would you let her go? She's clearly not interested." His friend clamps a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back briefly before thrusting his own hand forward. "I'm Jared."

"Hi."

After greeting the two boys, you give a very amused Harry and Sue your attention once more. "So thanks for checking in. I'm just cleaning out the house right now. Getting it ready for deliveries."

"Oh?" Sue perks up. "What did you find?"

"Just a refrigerator and stove for now," you say with a small shrug and sheepish laugh. "I rather have the cabinets and refrigerator stocked with food rather than worry about comfortable bedding. If push comes to shove, I'll happily camp out on an air mattress while I find a decent bed."

Harry chuckles. "I figured you'd be having trouble finding some decent furniture, so I went ahead and went through our storage. Come on," he gestures for you to follow. "Come take a look."

"What?" You stare, wide-eyed, and Sue chuckles before nudging you to follow. You do, with the boys chuckling at your surprise, and you find a wooden bed frame laying in the bed of Harry's truck.

"It's a bit old," Harry then admits, "but it's still very sturdy. It was wasting away in our storage, so I figured it could go to a good home."

"Are- are you sure?"

"Of course," Sue assures you. "We also have a couch and a recliner if you're interested. They're still in really good condition."

"Well yeah! If you say it's in good condition and are willing to get rid of them, I'll happily take them off your hands."

"Excellent. Boys!" Harry catches Jared and Paul's attention. "Go back to my house and have Leah show you to the storage. She'll know what couch and recliner we want to get rid of."

"You got it, Harry."

Jared nods at Harry to let him know he's on it and Paul spares you one last lingering leer which prompts you to laugh and shake your head at him. Then turning to Sue, you ask, "So what do I owe you?"

But Sue is quick to wave you off. "Don't worry about it. Consider this as our house warming present. And," she's quick to cut you off when you open your mouth to retort, "if you feel like you owe us something, then all I ask is that you stop by the health clinic once you're truly settled in. You have a very healing nature about you and I'm sure you'd be a great help to our little community."

Catching her drift, you can't help but chuckle. "Sure thing, Sue."

With nothing else to be said, Harry and Sue help you unload the bed frame and carry it into your house and into the appropriate room. Fortunately Harry has a bag of tools in his truck and instructs you what screws go where since you were more capable of getting down on the floor than he was. Paul and Jared get back right before you finish putting together the frame, so Sue walks out to go instruct them to bring the furniture in.

Afterwards, as you and Harry join everyone in the living room, you smile kindly around at the occupants. "Boys, thanks for bringing the heavy stuff in."

"Don't even worry about it," Jared says. "If Sue and Harry are already this attached, I have a feeling you're good people."

Before Paul can comment, there's a bone chilling howl ripping through the air. It's not too close to the house, but it doesn't stop the boys from awkwardly chuckling afterwards and assuring you the wolves around the reservation are completely harmless. You keep a faint smile in place, nodding along, and force down your amusement at their hasty retreat.

Turning to Sue and Harry, you laugh. "They don't have a subtle bone in their body."

"No they do not," she muses.

A comfortable silence follows the three of you out onto the porch, watching as Paul and Jared drive away in a hurry. Seconds pass before Harry makes it clear they should get going too.

As you follow them to their truck, you say, "Thanks again for the furniture. If I head out now I can probably find a box spring and mattress, and actually sleep in my own house tonight."

Sue smiles. "I'm glad we could be of some help. If you need anything," she then reaches into her pocket, pulling out a small white card, "here's my number. Don't hesitate to call."

You take the card and glance at the number before pocketing it. "I won't. Thank you."

The married couple climb into the truck and as soon as they're settled and the engine rumbles to life, Harry leans out his window. "Don't take too long to let the boys in on your secret. I have a feeling you'll be seeing them more often than not now that two of them know where you live."

"How many are there?"

"Three as of right now," Harry says, "but we're keeping an eye on a few others."

"This pack keeps growing and the vampires will be too scared to step anywhere near La Push."

Harry chuckles. "That's fine by me."

With nothing else to be said and the Clearwater's wanting you to get everything you need before the stores shut down, they bid you farewell and take their leave. Then after making sure you shut all the windows to your house and lock up, you hop in your truck and drive to the city in hopes of getting a box spring and mattress to fit your new bed.

Over the next few days, you get settled in and you've never felt more at peace. Even your magic seems to meshing better than ever within you and your coven back home couldn't have been more happier for you.

You've kept your promise to Sue, mixing concoctions that were easily added into lotions for aching joints and grinding powered mixtures that could be added to water that acted as a mild pain reliever. The reservation's clinic was mostly used by the elderly and you were glad you could offer them relief for their aching bones.

You've also run into Paul and Jared a handful of times, mostly at the grocery store and once when you had gone to the beach for the day. They had been leaving when you were just getting there and Paul had introduced you to his new girlfriend, but the way he couldn't take his eyes off her let you know it was something so much more. Jared kept trying to introduce you to his other friend, but apparently you and this so-called Sam just kept missing each other.

And it isn't until one drizzly day that you finally meet him.

You sleep in a little later than usual, the overcast sky and drizzling rain keeping you in a sleepy state. Then when you feel like you've laid in long enough, you get up and take the warmest shower you can before dressing cozy and curling up on your couch. Nothing on TV seems to catch your attention, so you turn it off and head into your kitchen. You're not particularly hungry, but you find yourself wanting to make something. So opening up your pantry, you find that you have all the ingredients you need to bake to your heart's content.

With your hair twisted up into a bun and the sleeves of your sweater pushed up to your elbows, you're mixing together the second batch of muffins as the first batch cools next to a peach cobbler. You've been in the baking zone, listening to the distant rumbling thunder, that when there's knocking on your front door it startles you into letting loose a yelp.

There's a bark of laughter before you hear the door creaking open and Paul and Jared walk in, both shirtless and in cut-off jean shorts. A third walks in behind them, this one unfamiliar, but you keep your attention on the two you do know.

Huffing, you set aside the bowl and pick up a washcloth to clean off your hands as you walk around the kitchen counter. "If you catch a cold, I am not helping you. Only idiots would run around barefoot in this type of weather we're having right now."

"Oooh, those muffins free game?" Jared asks, completely ignoring your words and walking around you. "I'm starving."

"Do I smell peach cobbler?" Paul then wonders, doing the same as his friend.

"Hey!" The third individual barks, Paul and Jared freezing at his tone. "Manners."

You smirk as the boys shift nervously and then look towards the still unknown man. "Thank you. You, my well mannered friend, are more than welcome to the snacks. I'm Y/N, by the way."

As he meets your gaze, his small smile falters. His eyes seem to subtly widen, his expression goes lax, and there's an instant connection with this man- a sense of warmth and comfort rushing through you. He feels like.. like home.

You blink and then.. oh. You know exactly what this is and while a little part of you is nervous because you hadn't planned to tell anyone other than the tribal elders what you were, you're also kind of excited.

"Sam?" Paul wonders, he and Jared snickering.

The second you break eye contact with him, he seems to come back to himself. Clearing his throat, he nods at you. "Sam. I'm Sam Uley." He then glares at the boys before sheepishly glancing at you once more.

You flash him a small smile. "Nice to finally meet you Sam Uley. Jared doesn't shut up about you."

"Hey!" The muffled response causes you to look at the boy in question and you roll your eyes fondly when you see his cheeks puffed out with the remains of a muffin he'd eaten when you weren't paying attention.

"So what brings you boys over here?" You ask as you walk back into the kitchen, whipping Jared with a small towel and shooing him towards the table.

"Just wanted to see how you were dealing with our weather," Paul says. "Now can I please have some of this cobbler? It smells really good."

"Have you eaten lunch yet? All that sweet is going to ruin your appetite."

Jared snorts as he takes a seat at the table. "Nothing can ruin our appetites. Trust me."

Paul is still eyeing the cobbler so you sigh and wave him on. "Go ahead. I'm sure you can find the plates and utensils." Then looking towards Sam, you smile. "Would you like to take a seat? There are brown sugar muffins, chocolate chip muffins and peach cobbler if you're interested."

"I, uh, yeah." He grins at you. "I'd like that."

Sam, Paul and Jared take over your kitchen table and instead of being annoyed you can't help but feel a bit of fondness for them. You're well aware of what the connection you had with Sam was and you wonder how long it'll take him to come clean to you since it's obvious all three at your table are shifters- Sam obviously being the alpha.

But putting that off for now, you walk into your kitchen and place some muffins in a bowl to take to the table. Jared is all too happy to immediately start digging in and Paul looks absolutely blissed out as he shovels bite after bite of peach cobbler into his mouth. Sam shakes his head at the two of them, but you find it all rather amusing.

Taking a muffin for himself and eating at a leisurely pace, Sam asks, "So how do you know the boys?"

"Sue and Harry introduced us when they brought over my bed," you tell him. Grabbing a few bottled waters from the refrigerator, you walk them over to the table and take a seat yourself. "Between you and me, I think the only reason Harry introduced us was because I'm a female living by myself. He wants me to have people in my corner should something ever happen."

Sam glances between you and the boys, and seeing as you're not offended he allows himself to chuckle. "Yeah. That sounds like Harry. He's good people."

"Oh for sure," you muse. "I kind of have this sense about people. I can tell who's a good and who's a bad one."

"Oh really?" Paul looks up long enough to spot the waters and take one for himself. "What do you sense about us?"

Jared freezes, Sam tenses and Paul smirks as he takes a gulp of his water. You lean back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest, and smirk. "Honestly? I get a sense you and Jared are going to be giant pains in my ass."

Jared laughs, but Paul continues to smugly hold your gaze. "And what about Sam?"

Your gaze slides over to Sam who looks equal parts ready to strangle Paul and wondering what your answer is going to be. Eyes twinkling, you say, "That's to be determined."

Now that you'd officially met Sam and he imprinted on you- though you weren't supposed to know that- it seemed like he was everywhere. You run into him at the grocery store, at the local health clinic, and at the beach. And then sometimes all three of them would show up on your porch to check up on you, but mostly to raid your kitchen.

Usually when you run into them you run into all three, so as you're sitting on the beach and just soaking in the peace, you're surprised to see Sam approaching all on his lonesome.

"This seat taken?" He asks, gesturing to the empty half of the blanket you're sitting on.

You grin up at him. "Do my eyes deceive me or are you actually wearing long sleeves and jeans?"

"Ha ha," he deadpans. Toeing off his boots, Sam steps onto your blanket and sits next to you. He grins at you before looking out to the restless ocean. "So what brings you out here on this cool afternoon?"

You shrug. "Nothing really. Just felt like listening to the waves. You?"

"Same. Had some free time so I figured I'd come out here to decompress. Spotting you was just a bonus."

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Mr. Uley."

Sam chuckles as he softly nudges you with his shoulder. You smile back at him, only to then look back out at the ocean. There's a moment where you and Sam just bask in the stillness of conversation before he's nudging you once more. "So tell me something, Y/N. What brought you out here to La Push?"

"I don't know if I want to tell you," you jokingly admit. "You'll think it's lame."

"No I won't. Come on, tell me."

Glancing at Sam you know you're in trouble at the sight of his small smile and the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. You keep his gaze, sigh with a fond roll of your eyes, and he chuckles knowing full well you've caved. "Have you ever felt like you didn't belong? That something was missing from your life and, even though you had a pretty good life, you knew there was something out in the world you were destined to find?"

"Not until recently," he replies quietly.

Sam's gaze darts all over your face before darting down to your lips and your heart skips a beat. "I, uh," you pause and awkwardly clear your throat, leaning sideways away from Sam for a moment to clear your head. "I didn't feel complete for a long time," you say. "So after finishing high school and working a few years to save up some cash, I packed all the things I couldn't live without and hopped into my truck. I drove in whatever direction felt right to me and it wasn't until I crossed into La Push territory that it felt like I could breathe properly. It was weird." Well not really now that you know why you were drawn to La Push, but you couldn't exactly tell him that. Not yet.

"That's not lame at all. That's- well I can kind of relate," he says. When you glance at Sam, his faint grin morphs into a smirk. "I'm glad you found what you were looking for here in La Push, Y/N. It seems everyone here has taken a shine to you."

"What can I say," you muse, batting your eyelashes at him, "I'm a very likable person." Sam's phone dings before he can retort and he offers you a sheepish smile as he pulls it out of his pocket. He reads whatever's on his screen and sighs, looking at you with an apology in his eyes. "Go. It's fine. We can always catch up another time. You do, after all, know where I live."

Sam nods and pulls his boots to himself, slipping them on his feet and lacing up. "Do you, uh, maybe want to grab something to eat sometime?"

His stammering and avoidance of your gaze makes you smile. You hum, drawing out your answer before saying, "Like one on one or a group thing?"

He shrugs. "More like a date thing."

"Sam Uley," you chuckle. "Asking me on a date and breaking hearts all across the Rez. Who would've guessed.." When he's finally brave enough to meet your gaze, you smile. "It's a date, Sam. Just let me know when and where."

A date with Sam consisted of dinner at an Italian restaurant in Port Angeles. You had figured it'd be as awkward as first dates normally were, but from the moment he picked you up to the moment he dropped you off at your front porch and warmly pressed a kiss to your cheek, it was as if you and Sam had been doing this for ages. The conversation had flowed easily with quiet laughter here and there, and then you went for a walk around Port Angeles before deciding to call it a night.

The boys, when they took notice of you greeting Sam with a kiss to the cheek, took great pleasure in teasing the two of you. You could tell Sam was wary about it upsetting you, but you merely withheld food from the boys and they were quick to cut it out.

Sam slowly started to show up more often on his own, the casual touches turning into lingering touches, and it wasn't long until those on the Rez realized Sam was no longer on the market. Which was something Sue Clearwater was clearly ecstatic for, but it also led her to constantly nag you into telling Sam your secret since he was clearly struggling with admitting his own.

You've just gotten home from the grocery store, unloading the groceries when Sam pulls up.

Pausing in hauling the bags inside, you wait for Sam. He hops out of his own truck, grinning when he catches sight of you. "Hey, handsome. What are you doing?"

"Missed you." He leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth and you pout when he pulls away. He chuckles and takes the bags from your arms, grabbing another three from the backseat. "You have a good day?"

"It was decent." You shut the door to your truck, walking side by side with Sam up to your front door. Unlocking it, you push it open and let Sam walk in first. "I visited with Sue for a bit at the clinic and took the patients some goodies. What about you?"

"Decent. Got started on a table and chairs this couple want for their kitchen. Made good progress on it without Jared bugging me and Paul."

You laugh at the slight annoyance in Sam's features when he talks about Jared bugging him, but you know deep down that Sam would do anything for both Jared and Paul. He was just lucky right now since Jared was in his last year of high school and he had school five days out of the week which left Sam and Paul enough time to work without being pestered.

With Sam helping you, all the groceries are put away within a couple of minutes. You sigh with exhaustion, but a smile stays on your face because of the company you have. Sam walks over to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you in against his chest. You sigh again, this time in contentment, and wrap your arms around his waist.

"Wanna take a nap?"

"Oh god," you groan. "Yes please."

Sam chuckles as you drag him to the living room, the sofa big enough to comfortably nap on. You both kick your shoes off and you impatiently wait for Sam to lay down and get comfortable before you lay down in front of him. With your back against his chest and his arm wrapped securely around your waist so you don't fall off, you close your eyes and listen to Sam's breathing to lull you to sleep.

Minutes pass and then, "Y/N?"

"Hmm?"

"I, uh, I need to tell you something."

Your eyes fly open. Is this it? Is this when he tells me he's a shifter? "Okay.."

"But I can't tell you until after the bonfire which I'm hoping you'll attend with me tonight."

Oh. "A bonfire sounds nice," you admit. "But whatever you have to tell me isn't bad, is it? Because now I'm going to be worried about it for the rest of the day."

Sam's laughter rumbles from behind you. "Nah. You have nothing to worry about. Get some rest, sweetheart. We deserve it."

- - - - - - - - - -

You and Sam fall asleep longer than you had anticipated, and it takes Paul barging into your house and startling you awake to realize how much time has passed. You remain grumpy and half asleep the entire time Sam tells you about the appropriate clothing for the beach bonfire, which Paul finds absolutely hilarious, and he only shut ups about it when you threaten to make him walk back to the beach since he had apparently walked to your house.

When you get to the beach, Sam takes your hand in his and you smile at him before he leads you to where there's already a roaring fire dancing under the night sky. There's a small group gathered around, but the ones who stick out to you the most are the tribal elders who appear as if they're holding court. Sam sits you on a log close to the fire before asking if you want anything and at your furrowed brow he gestures to the table of food that's dwindling down by the minute.

As you tell Sam you only want a hot drink, he leaves you be and you watch as everyone mingles. From across the fire Harry gives you a nod in greeting and you nod back. Your eyes are drawn to Paul who is wrapped around his girlfriend and you can't help but smile at how smitten he is with her. Jared is tossing chips at some young boy, the two of them running around as another unknown female watches them with fond exasperation.

All too soon Sam is taking a seat next to you, thigh to thigh, as his left arm goes around your shoulders after handing you a steaming cup of hot chocolate. You smile at him before snuggling into his warmth and blowing on your drink. Then when everyone settles down and Harry starts talking, you realize he's telling the legends about the Quileute Spirit Warriors.

You've heard the legends about the spirit warriors and cold ones, but never in such great detail and you're absolutely enthralled.

Afterwards, after being introduced to several more people and Sam dropping you back off at home, he walks you up to the porch. His hands are tucked deep into his pockets and he sighs, and you can just tell something is on his mind.

Grinning, you grab him by his belt loops and pull him closer to you. "What's wrong? I could hear you thinking on the drive here."

"Nothing." He automatically shakes his head. You raise an eyebrow at him and he exhales quietly. "I just- I'm curious as to what you thought about the bonfire. Only certain people have the special privilege of attending and I-"

"I loved it." You're quick to assure him. 'And I'm honored I was able to sit in."

"You didn't think it was odd? People turning into giant wolves and cold ones draining people."

You shake your head, smiling fondly. "Sam, I love learning about other cultures and their legends. Honestly, I had an amazing time." His shoulders sag in relief and you chuckle. "So do you want to tell me what else is on your mind?"

He shakes his head. "Maybe another time." His hands reach up to cradle your face and he brings you in to press a kiss to your forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow morning."

As the weeks pass, your happiness with Sam starts to dwindle under the pressure of his secret. For some reason, coming out and telling you all that you heard at the bonfire was true was harder than he had imagined. Of course you could have told him your secret to ease him into telling you his, but you were holding back as well.

Sue and Harry have had enough, however, after Sam snaps at Paul and Jared and starts straining the bond between the three of them. So sitting outside of your house, you wait for Sam to show up. If he won't tell you he's alpha of the Quileute pack, then you'll tell him your own secret and see what happens then.

Sam shows up on time and as he exits his truck, you stand up and walk towards the edge of the porch. He smiles in greeting, but you can see the strain behind it and you sigh. Immediately you wrap your arms around him, pressing your cheek against his chest.

"Come inside with me. I need to show you something."

"Uh oh. Should I be worried?" He says.

"Not at all." You pull back from him, pecking his lips. "But I am worried about how you're going to take it."

Sam's small smile falters, but you don't have any reassuring words for him. Now that it's out in the open about you having a secret too, you can see why Sam held back. It's scary. But it's out there now and there's no way in hell you're going to back out. So grabbing hold of one of Sam's hands, you turn around to lead him inside.

You lead Sam into your bedroom and gesture for him to take a seat on one side of your bed while you sit across from him. With one leg hanging off the side of the bed and your other curled inward, you grab one of your pillows and strip the cover off of it. "Can you rip it open?"

Sam huffs. "What? You want me to rip apart your pillow?"

"Yeah. I just- the feathers," you mutter. "Trust me." He stares at you a moment longer before grabbing your pillow and ripping the top sheet layer of it. You grin and reach in, scooping out a handful of the white and gray feathers. "So, um, please don't hate me."

"Hate you? I can never hate you, Y/N."

"You say that now, but-" Heart pounding, you lay the feathers down down on the bed right in front of your leg. Your hands tremble, but you're quick to shake it out and take a breath. Your smile wobbles as you briefly meet Sam's gaze and then you hold your hands just above the feathers. Concentrating deeply on them, you slowly lift your hands and the feathers slowly follow. You hear Sam sharply inhale as the feathers levitate and then start to twirl in a circular motion. "So, um, I'm a witch," you admit. "And to make things easier for you, I already know the secret you've been struggling to tell me."

"H-How?"

Your hands drop and you finally meet Sam's astonished gaze. "My coven's grimoire. It's filled with all sorts of knowledge of every supernatural creature out there and, though the passage on the spirit warriors of the Quileute tribe wasn't as detailed as what Harry said around the bonfire, it was enough to clue me in on what you, Paul, and Jared were the second I laid eyes on you. Well that and the fact the tribal elders told me when I asked their permission to live on the Rez."

Sam huffs and then does the unexpected. He reaches across your gutted pillow and tugs on your arm until you're crawling over and onto his lap. He holds you tight, chuckling quietly, and shoves his face into the side of your neck. You hesitantly wrap your arms back around him, sighing in relief. "You really should have told me sooner. It's been killing me not telling you about us."

"Yeah, well it's going to get a whole lot easier." He pulls back then, staring at you warily. "I know about the imprint thing too."

Sam's eyes widen. "You do?"

"Yep. Witches don't necessarily have mates, but we do have a sense of things. Since I came into my magic, there had always been a part of me that was searching for something."

"Yeah. Yeah I remember you mentioning that," Sam says.

"Well that something was you." The confession makes you nervously shift in his lap. "Whatever it was, it led me here to La Push. And then I saw you and.. I don't know. You felt like comfort. And home. And I knew-"

Sam cuts you off, grasping your chin between his fingers and facing you towards him. His lips press against yours and it takes a moment for your mind to be brought up to speed as to what's going on. When it does, you gasp and Sam smiles against your lips.

"Don't laugh at me," you mumble. "You caught me off guard."

Sam chuckles, his smile wide and eyes crinkling at the corners. It's one of his more genuine smiles and it feels like this huge weight has been lifted off your chest. "So the alpha and his witch," he muses. "The boys are going to be in for a shock."

"I was thinking more along the lines of the witch and her companion, but the alpha and the witch works too." You lean in and press your lips to his, once, twice, and then one more time. "And can we hold off on telling the boys? I kind of want to shock them with the reveal."

"Sure thing, sweetheart. We'll go at your pace."

"My pace, huh? I like the sound of that."

#sam uley x reader #twilight imagine #sam uley imagine #sam uley #twilight

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

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Prompts: (I’ve never requested anything before, so I apologize if I’m not doing this right) Would you be willing to write something where Janus (nervously) goes to Remus because he wants to get clean from self-harm, but realizes that he needs help/can’t do it alone? - anon

If you’re still taking requests, can you write a side (preferably janus, but anyone works) having a pretty rough time and resorting to unhealthy coping mechanisms to deal with it, and then one (or multiple) other sides help him? Love your works! - anon

Ah yes more of these. Y'all know what time it is!

CHECK POINT TIME MY DUDES~

unclench your jaw roll them shoulders back drink something go to the bathroom eat something look away from the screen for three goddamn CONSECUTIVE seconds

okay cool now you may proceed love you very much

Read on Ao3

Warnings: implied/referenced self-harm. Very brief description of scale removal

Pairings: platonic dukeceit

Word Count: 2187

It’s when Thomas catches him with one of his scales missing that he knows he needs this to stop.

The problem is that he doesn’t realize he’s doing it. Not until it’s too late. One of his fingers will just…accidentally catch the wrong edge of a scale and then he’ll slip his fingers under it and pull and…off it pops.

Well, it doesn’t really pop off.

If he’s being honest—heh—it’s part of the reason he started wearing the gloves all the time, not just when he has to go and perform for the rest of them. If he could hide his nails beneath the fabric then maybe it would be more difficult to pop them off.

But the seams of the fabric are even better at snagging on the uneven scales. He swears they were built to find the little ones that didn’t sit quite right with the others. How wonderful.

Most of the time he can hide it.

Not all the time.

It’s when Thomas starts frowning at his hand halfway through filming a video that he snaps.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing, it’s just—“ he waves to the glove— “there’s a—you got something there, bud.”

Janus glances down and notices the stain.

Shit.

“I’m sure it’ll take you by surprise to know that Remus is far from the paragon of cleanliness,” he remarks dryly, waving the hand out of sight.

Virgil snorts. “Uh-huh.”

Roman rolls his eyes. “Did he at least use the plastic tarps I dropped off?”

“Oh, there were supposed to be tarps?”

“You know, that’s enough of an answer.”

The conversation steers back on track but Janus keeps his fist clenched out of sight.

Too close. Thomas is not allowed to know. Janus may not be able to hide as much as he would like from Thomas but this Thomas will not know.

And…alright, maybe the feeling of too-raw skin rubbing against the inside of the glove is getting a little unbearable.

Maybe the fact that he has to keep his face turned away at all times is starting to grate on his insecurity.

Maybe trying to stop picking at his hands makes it difficult to keep the gloves on even though they’re the only thing keeping him sane some of the time.

…maybe he needs help.

Janus looks down at his hands, shakily pulling on his gloves and standing. He glances in the mirror and winces. Even for him, he looks like he’s trying to hide something. He makes a point to avoid the living room at all costs.

Remus’s door is ajar but the room is dark. He glances up and down the corridor, maybe Remus has gone into the Imagination. Then the toilet down the hall flushes and he sighs.

“Don’t tell me,” he says as Remus emerges, “you’ve ruined your own bathroom again?”

“I wouldn’t say ruined,” Remus chortles, “it’s a masterpiece! I just can’t use much of it right now.”

“Thrilling, I’m sure everyone will be glad to hear it.”

Remus just waves him off. “What’s up, Jan-Jan, haven’t seen you in ages.”

Janus blinks. “You saw me ten minutes ago.”

He rolls his eyes. “The point, Jan, is that you don’t come around anymore and I’m bored.”

“Well, if you’re so easily bored…”

“Hey, nuh-uh, you just showed up, no leaving!”

He pretends that Remus dragging him into his room is the opposite of what he wanted.

“Take a seat,” Remus sings gleefully, plopping down onto the floor and wriggling around like a worm on a string. Not far off. “Talk to me!”

Janus sits, doing his best to avoid whatever that is and folding his hands. He drums his fingers nervously against each other.

“What’s going on, Jan-Jan,” Remus asks, and ah, Remus has figured out something is wrong, “are you okay?”

“I need your help,” he decides on eventually, “to hide something from Thomas.”

Remus quirks an eyebrow. “You know that’s not anywhere near my specialty right?”

“And here I thought you were the picture of subtlety.”

“What’re you trying to hide?”

Janus swallows. Then he shakily peels off the glove and offers his hand to Remus. Remus takes it, frowning at his face before he turns to examine the scales. He runs his thumb gently over the places where scales meet flesh and turns Janus’s hand over.

He sweeps a finger down the scales and his nail catches a rough one.

Janus flinches.

Remus’s eyes widen as he takes in the patchwork of missing scales and sucks in a breath. “…Jan?”

“Thomas can’t know,” Janus bites out, “I have to hide it.”

Remus fixes him with a look. “And what else?”

“What else?”

“No lies,” he reminds, harsh tone a sharp contrast to the gentle movement of his thumb on Janus’s hand, “that includes lies of omission.”

Janus’s hand twitches in Remus’s grasp and he takes a deep breath.

“I can’t stop it,” he whispers after a moment, “I need your help.”

“Okay.” Remus gives his hand a tug. “Come closer.”

Janus shuffles forward on the floor, shame burning his cheeks. Remus tuts and raises a hand to pat his face.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Snakey,” he says quietly, “this is hard. Talking about it is hard for most people, it’s gonna be harder for you.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“Don’t say that. You’re not perfect. It’s hard. And you lie.”

“A lot.”

“A lot,” Remus agrees, laying Janus’s scaled hand in his lap, “so it’s gonna be hard.”

Janus takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders. “What do I do?”

“First off, stop looking like I’m about to have you executed by a pack of hyenas with machetes.” Remus raises an eyebrow. “I’m not mad at you, Snakey, and I don’t exactly have any authority over you.”

Janus huffs.

“Jan, look at me.”

Janus looks. Remus’s expression softens a little.

“Hey,” he says softly, “I’m not mad at you, it’s okay. You’re gonna be fine, we’re gonna deal with this. This is hard, this is mean. It’s okay.”

“…you don’t think I’m being a hypocrite?”

“If you are—I said if, bitch,” he says when Janus huffs again, “you’re far from the only one here and you’re far from being to blame for it.”

“What?”

Remus rolls his eyes. “Have you met the other people we live with?”

“…fair enough.”

Remus squeezes his hand. “It’s not gonna be easy, Jan, but it’s okay. I’m proud of you.”

Janus scoffs. “What on earth do you have to be proud of me for?”

“Okay first, don’t like the way you said ‘me,’ second, this is hard, Jan, admitting you need help and coming to find it? That’s not easy.”

Oh.

Janus swallows the lump in his throat and squeezes Remus’s hand back. “…so what do I do?”

“First, do you actually want to stop?”

Janus’s head snaps up. “What?”

Remus doesn’t waver. “Do you actually want to stop? ‘Cause this is only gonna work if you do.”

Does he want to stop?

It would be bad if Thomas found out. It would be bad if the others found out. He would have to deal with their looks and their whispers and he doesn’t want that.

If he grew all his scales back, if the scars faded, would it be like it never happened? Then he…then it would just be gone. He wouldn’t have it anymore. The scars hurt to get but something…something about them tugged on the string in his gut that made him feel safe.

Was that slight tug worth it?

Was it worth the gloves? The worry of someone finding out? The stinging showers? The look on Thomas’s face?

“…yeah,” he mumbles after a while, “yeah, I want to stop.”

“Okay.” Remus gives his hand another squeeze. “I’m real proud of you, you know that, right?”

“Alright, alright,” he mumbles, still ignoring the heat in his face, “that’s enough.”

Remus laughs and pulls him closer. “Gimme a hug, Jan.”

“Fine.”

Surely Remus can’t tell how much he really wants to hug him by how tightly all of the arms wrap around him. Remus chuckles into the crook of his neck and he definitely believes that Janus is being forced into this hug and there’s no way he’d be doing it on his own.

Remus definitely believes him.

“Hey, hey,” Remus murmurs, rubbing his back, and oh, he’s crying, “shh, Jan-Jan, it’s okay, I gotcha. You’re alright now, it’s okay.”

Janus turns his head into the crook of Remus’s neck. Remus is warm against his scales.

“It’s okay, I gotcha.” Remus squeezes him tighter. “You just sit here with me for a minute, ‘kay?”

They sit. For a while. Remus holds him close. It’s warm.

“Hey,” he mumbles after a while, “do you still wanna do the next part now, or do you wanna wait a little bit?”

Janus squeezes his eyes shut and pulls back. “We can do it now.”

“Okay.” Remus cups his hands in his lap and concentrates. Then a little glass jar appears. “Here.”

Janus takes it warily. “What is this for?”

“You. Now pick something you like. Something small that you can have a lot of. Eyeballs, old octopus suckers, paperclips, fuses, glue, wicks…you know, office supplies.”

Despite himself, Janus chuckles. “I forgot that was a Disney movie.”

Remus’s mouth falls open. “Oh, we are so watching that for movie night.”

“Is that tonight?”

“Think so.” He nudges Janus. “You got something?”

“…buttons?”

Remus grins and in a few moments, he holds a massive plastic bag of little buttons. “Like these?”

Janus nods.

“Great. Here’s what we’re gonna do.” He takes one of the buttons out of the bag. “Every day you can go without hurting yourself, you put one of these in the jar.”

The button clatters to the bottom of the jar.

“…that’s it?”

“Uh-huh. But if you break the streak you gotta take ‘em all out.”

“I see.” Janus looks into the jar. The lone button sits at the bottom. It looks so small. “Do I…do I get something if I fill up the jar?”

“Do you want to get something?”

He shrugs. “I’ve never been very good at the whole…self-imposed reward system. Because I can always just have it now and it’s fine.”

Remus snorts. “That sounds like you trying to give yourself deadlines and then being like ‘wait I know the guy who made these and he’s full of shit.’”

“Exactly.”

Remus nudges his shoulder. “Then don’t do that. Just set little goals to start with. Get one button. Then get another.”

“…one day at a time?”

“That’s how this shit works. Slow and steady wins the race.”

“You say as if turtle soup isn’t your favorite.”

“Turtle soup is a fucking delicacy, you whore.”

“You’ve been watching too much UNHhhh without me.”

“Then fucking watch it with me.”

“Thank you, Remus,” Janus mumbles, leaning his head on Remus’s shoulder, “I, um, I don’t know if I’m gonna be any good at this.”

“Be patient with yourself, Snakey, healing isn’t a linear process.”

“I know that…”

“But it never hurts to have someone else reassure you,” he murmurs, his breath warming the top of Janus’s head, “we’re here for you, Jan-Jan. You don’t have to tell us everything, just let us help you.”

Janus stiffens. “Do you think the others will…”

“They’ll ask if they worry—“

“Which they will.”

“—but they respect you, Jan,” Remus finishes, “and they’ll back off when you tell ‘em to. I’m sure you just have to tell them you’re working through some shit and they’ll ask if they can help in any way.”

“But I don’t have to tell them.”

“No, of course not.” Remus finds his hand and squeezes it. “You know I’m proud of you, right?”

“So you’ve said.”

“But do you know it?”

Janus turns his head to let his forehead rest against Remus’s. “Yeah, Remus, I do.”

“Good. Now come on, the day’s almost over. Let’s get you to dinner and movie night and see if we can get you that first button.”

“They’ll agree to watch The Lost Empire, right?”

Remus gives him a look. “Logan loves Milo, don’t let him tell you different—“

Janus snorts.

“—Patton is happy to do anything that makes you happy—“

“Remus!”

“—Roman wants to watch Disney always, all the time—“

“True.”

“—and Virgil is always going to make fun of obvious villains that no one is surprised by.”

Janus can’t stop laughing and Remus wraps an arm around his waist.

“You’re gonna be fine, Jan,” he says softly, “we gotcha.”

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If you would like to be added/taken off the taglist, let me know!

Also hey tumblr your Post+ shit is stupid.

#dragonbabbles #sanders sides #fic #janus sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #self harm #tw self harm #tw: self harm

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soldrawss · 3 years

Note

Sol i need headcanons for the brothers, please im begging you

BRUH I GOT YOU

I’m currently working on some little fics for them BUT I CAN GIVE YOU SOME DETAILS BECAUSE I’M DYING TO SHARE

(Warning, gets a little dark towards the middle, but overall fine. Sorry for the long read. I went for a DEEP dive on the Age Gap Au)

Ace was put into foster care 4 hours after his birth. His father died before he was born and his mother died during childbirth. Ace had nothing to his name but physical traits of the dead (Like his father's sharp eyes and his mother’s freckles) He grew up with a need to prove himself and to gain something that truly belonged to him all on his own.

Sabo was placed in foster care when he was 5 because of an altercation with his abusive and possesive parents, involving him having broken ribs and running away.

Ace and Sabo met in a halfway home for troubled youths when they were 6. (They both had issues with authority and past placements in foster homes, so they quickly bonded over that, and decided to stick together ever since)

Their bond was so strong that ‘honorary’ brothers didn’t really fit them. They were brothers. And they stuck together and stood up for one another like it was them against the world (which sometimes it was)

They would often run away from the halfway home they were at, trying to earn a living on their own on the streets, and often commit petty thefts in order to survive.

These little runaway trips wouldn’t last long though, because they were always caught by Officer Garp, a police officer that happened to have a knack for catching little runaways.

However tough Garp acted though, he had an incredibly big soft spot for these two little brats that were only trying to make their lives better. These two kids, barely 8 years old, who had so much hatred for the world because of adults in their lives that failed them. Adults that hurt them, giving them scars and bruises on their hearts just as easily as the scars and bruises on the little frames.

After a particular runaway incident, Ace breaks down and confesses about all the horrible placements he and Sabo had been in before. How social services always judge Ace’s sharp eyes and label in a problem child, how Sabo’s quick wit always get him in trouble with the adults, how they both have scars and bruises from past foster homes they were placed in, and that's why Ace and Sabo runaway. They’re tired of getting placed in bad homes. They’re tired of having adults try to separate them. Ace is all Sabo has and vice versa because that's the only person in the whole world who they trust to not hurt them. And Garp thinks that’s the last fucking straw.

Garp, much to Ace and Sabo’s but nobody else’s surprise, adopts both the boys, and takes them into his own home. Because dammit, if they’re just gonna runaway, they might as well stay with someone who will at least love them enough to always look for them and bring them back to a good home when they do.

And it’s weird at first, because Garp is the rough and loud and nosey officer that used to grab them by the scruffs of their shirts and drag them back to that awful halfway home kicking and screaming. But then it gets better. Because he still yells at them, but it’s with a tempered and fiercely protective love it when he does. He still grabs them, but it’s just to pull them into a rough bear hug that they fervently pretend they don’t like. And every dinner is spent with tears of laughter in their eyes and cheeks warm with delight at the stories he tells them. (They call him old man with affection and he’s their father figure even though they treat him like their grandpa.)

Sabo joins his school’s baseball team! Which is so freaking cool! He’s a really strong batter, can weild a bat like it’s an extension of his own arm, and Ace and Garp are always the loudest cheers on the bleachers every home run hit Sabo makes.

Garp makes Ace take up boxing, because the kid’s got a lot of pent-up rage and aggression, and he figures it’s a good constructive sort of therapy for the rowdy brat.

The two still get up to mischief every now and again, though. Nothing illegal, but Garp is still having to wrangle up his two little idiots before they do something stupid. (They get into a lot of fights with local gangs because they have smart mouths and are still a little reckless)

Garp has a biological son that Ace and Sabo never met due to Garp’s and Dragon’s strained relationship. Garp had always bad-mouthed him whenever his son was brought up, but it was always with words that had no heat behind them, and Sabo and Ace could tell there was a sadness behind his eyes whenever he looked at the picture of his son in his wallet.

The boys were 10 when they got the news of Dragon’s death a week after it happened. Garp had gotten the phone call when he and the boys were watching some late-night trash tv on the weekend, and he had all but strangled the phone in a grip that turned his knuckles white. He didn’t say what had killed his son, (he never did), but he had told the boys he needed to take care of something, told them to pack up some of their things, dropped them off at his friend Newgate’s house, and got the quickest flight out that night.

He came back 3 days later, and when he did, he had a tiny little baby with him.

Ace and Sabo were no strangers to babies. There was always some snot-nosed kid that would get dropped off at the halfway home (and then adopted that week, because everybody loved babies), and they were pretty sure this baby wasn’t gonna be any different. Because babies were loud and gross and never stopped crying, and Ace and Sabo were prepared for the absolute worse.

But then they stood over the baby’s crib to get a good look at him, and the baby looked back.

And smiled the biggest and happiest smile Ace and Sabo had ever seen.

And Garp had said “His name is Luffy,” and Ace and Sabo had been hooked around his little finger ever since.

Luffy was barely 6 months old, and was a bundle of chubby cheeks and contagious giggles. With big brown chocolate colored eyes that melted all the sharp corners and edges of Ace’s and Sabo’s hearts.

Because Sabo and Ace were the same age, and neither one of them felt like the older or younger brother. They were equals in every way. But it was different with Luffy. Because Luffy was tiny, and soft and could barely wrap all 5 of his little fingers around one of theirs, and it hit Sabo and Ace like a bullet train because oh.

Oh this is what it was like to be an older brother. This was what it was like to have a little brother. And Sabo and Ace have always looked out for each other, of course. But Luffy was something they had to protect fully and with their entire being. His smile, his laughter, his heart. All of it. Sabo and Ace knew all the horrible things in the world, knew all the hatred and fear and heartbreak the world could throw at you and it was like a silent promise to each other they never verbalized, that Luffy should and would never have to go through the things they went through. He would never feel unloved. He would never feel unwanted. He would never feel like he had to prove his worth or reason for existing. (He was worth more than any price anyone could give anyway)

Sabo and Ace stopped getting into trouble. They got good grades, excelled in their respective clubs, and didn’t give Garp any reason to chase them down in his old cop car and bring them home. (They were always at home anyway, giving Luffy piggyback rides and teaching him how to ride a bike and do one-handed handstands and cartwheels, and basking in the warmth that was Luffy’s endless love) And they lived in peace like that for 5 years.

Then the fire happened.

Garp was a good police officer and an even better Deputy Chief, and for almost 40 years, he served on the Foosha County Police Department. He had put away a lot of bad guys and saved a lot of people in the process and was an honored and highly respected man. However, this also made him a big target and earned him quite a few enemies. He was 3 weeks away from retirement and spending most of those weeks staying at home, playing with Luffy, and ingnoring the last of his paperwork left on his office desk.

When the fire broke out, Ace and Sabo had just turned the corner from the bus stop on their way home from school. They had seen the smoke, but didn’t know where it was coming from till they saw the towering blaze of fire that used to be their 2 story home and the group of neighbors surrounding the outside.

They managed to push their way to the front, hands shaking and eyes wide and absolutely breathless, because that was their house! That was their house that was one fire and where was gramps?! Where was Luffy?!

The only thing Ace heard Sabo whisper among the roar of the fire and the loud murmur of people around them was “Do you hear that? That... crying?” Before Sabo surged forward.

Ace didn’t have time to reach out and stop him, and by the time he could, Sabo had already disappeared into the open front door, which was covered in flames. He had screamed out, tried to race in and follow his brother into the flames, but the neighbors around him were quicker than he was and pulled him back.

Edward Newgate, one of their neighbors and close personal friend of Garp’s was in the crowd, and he was holding Ace to his chest with an arm like an iron bar, as he was on the phone with the local fire department. (Newgate was also the Foosha County fire chief, and was shouting at his lieutenants to “get your asses out here now!’) But Ace didn’t hear a word he was saying. All he could do was struggle to get out of the older man’s grip, reach out for his brother and best friend, and scream his lungs out.

What felt like hours went by, and Ace felt like his heart was shattering into a million piece, the glass shards falling around him, as he sobbed into Newgate's chest, thinking he had lost everything. His home. His family. His only purpose and reason for living.

And then some of the neighbors were shouting again, only this time in surprised alarm and Ace looked up with hazy eyes blurred by tears, to see something was coming out of the front door.

And it could only be Sabo. Ace knew it was him before he could even register it, and bolted out of Newgate's grips that had slacked at the surprise and towards his brother.

Ace met Sabo only a few feet from the door, Sabo collapsing into his arms, and Ace had to pull him the extra few feet away because the flames were still too much to bear even at that distance.

And Sabo’s skin was hot and red and covered in smoke and ash alike. There was a giant welting red burn against the side of Sabo’s face that looked like it would leave a scar forever, but Ace was having a hard time focusing on it because he was too bust focusing on the bundle of blankets that Sabo was desperately trying to push into Ace’s arms.

And Ace was already crying before, but he began crying even harder when he removed the fold of blankets to reveal a muffled Luffy, covered in ash but unharmed, crying his eyes out.

Sabo had a coughing fit that rocked his whole body, and burns that looked like they'd hurt forever, but he was smiling when Ace broke into a sob, clutching both Sabo and Luffy into his chest.

The firefighters and paramedics came a few minutes later, and they had to physically pull Sabo and Luffy from Ace’s arms to check and treat them. Luffy only ended up with a few mild burns and cuts on his arms and legs and some burning of his throat from inhaling so much smoke, but Sabo had to be taken to the hospital immediately for his burns, especially for the one on his face. Ace pleaded to let them all ride in the same ambulence on the way to the hosipital, and held on to Sabo’s shirt sleeve with a grip that would take the end of the world and then some for him to let go.

Sabo had to get some surgery and treatment to save his left eye, but he was all in all ok, and Ace and Luffy were allowed to visit his hospital room for as long as they needed.

When Ace finally confronted Sabo on why he had ran into the house in the first place, it was on the first night of their hospital stay. Sabo had a giant white gauze wrapping half of his head, and he looked at Ace with tired blue eyes that looked a little fuzy, still a little drugged from all the medication he was on to ease the pain.

And Ace felt bad about it, he really did, because Sabo didn’t derserve to be grilled on the matter. Not after he had sacrificed himself and saved Luffy. Their little brother. Their little brother who they wouldn’t even have anymore if it weren’t for Sabo.

But Ace had to know. He was so mad and heartbroken and scared out of his mind when Sabo had rushed in without word or warning. Because they had lost Garp. They had almost lost Luffy. And Ace could have almost lost Sabo too.

But Luffy was tucked underneath Sabo’s arm on the hospital bed, and Sabo just smiled at Ace with a patience that only Ace and Luffy could pull out of him, and patted the other side for Ace to join them. Ace climbed onto the bed beside him, and even with the two 15-year-olds and one little 5 year old, the bed didn’t feel too small at all.

Sabo explained that he could hear crying from the door and he just moved. Knowing it was Luffy before his mind could really think about the implications behind that. He confessed how the flames hurt at first. Hurt so bad, and it was so hot, and everything, from the floor to the ceiling, was on fire and he could barely see anything through the smoke. But he could hear Luffy’s little rough and horse scream, coming from one of the back rooms that used to be Garp's office, and suddenly all Sabo could afford to think about was Luffy’s crying.

Sabo would tell a watered-down version of this story to the cops in the morning, because they were Garp's friend and companions, and they only really needed the broad details for their report anyway.

He’ll tell a heroic version of this story, lacking any horrific graphics, to an older Luffy whenever the eternally curious kid wonders and asks about it.

But he only ever told the whole story right then on that night, one arm tight around his baby brother in a toothed and protective love, while the other one gripped his best friend's hands with shaking and bandaged fingers hard enough to leave bruising.

Garp was long dead when Sabo found him. The smell of his skin burning off is something that will haunt Sabo for the rest of his life. (Sometimes certain smells will set him off. Uncooked bacon is not allowed in the house anymore after one traumatic morning when Luffy is six. Campfires are viewed and enjoyed from a distance.)

He was lying on his stomach, clutching something to his chest. Sabo knew it was Luffy by the cries, bundled up in a few quilts and one of this office rugs, and Sabo knew he had to get them out of there before the smoke killed them off like it had a personal agenda against them.

The heat was unbearable, Sabo had confessed, but it was nothing compared to having to drag Luffy from underneath Garp’s grip. The old man was built like a brick house, sure, but even in death, his grip on Luffy, protecting Luffy, like he was daring the world to take anything away from him, was steadfast and almost unbbreakable.

It was the hardest thing Sabo had ever had to make himself do.

He didn’t look at Garp’s face. His body was burned black and bloody and raw, and Sabo couldn’t live with himself if his memory of Garp’s face was replaced by anything other than with the one of his scruffy beard and the shit-eating grin that he always wore.

When he pulled Luffy out, he didn’t look back, and raced out of the house as fast as he could. Something along the way fell and smacked him in the face, knocking him down at one point, but Sabo couldn’t pay it much mind. He got back up, and continued towards the door. He could barely see, barely breathe, with all the smoke and the ash, and the pain from the fire was almost numbing against his skin, but he didn’t stop.

All he could think about was Luffy, still struggling and crying against the blankets wrapped tightly around him. Next thing he knew, he was outside, and looking up at Ace’s snot-covered face.

Ace had never seen Sabo cry for the almost 10 years he knew him. He didn’t cry when he was 7, and the Anderson family had called him a freak and had sent him back after a failed foster home placement. He didn’t cry when he was 9, and broke his arm falling out of the tree in their backyard that Garp had told him not to climb, so of course he had to climb it. And he didn’t even cry earlier that day, at 15, when he was off medication and feeling the full extent of his painful burns.

So when tears started pooling out of Sabo’s pale blue eyes, falling down his cheeks and staining the cotton white blanket he was under as he told his story, Ace pretended not to notice, wrapped an arm around Sabo’s shoulders, and held him like it was the only lifeline in the world.

Garp’s funeral was held the following week. Closed casket. All the police departments in the county, and even some outside of it, showed up to give him a full send-off. Ace cried for both Sabo and himself. Sabo spoke a few words for the both of them. And Luffy stood between them, holding both their hands. They explained the night before that gramps was gone, but they don’t think the notion of death really got through to Luffy. He was crying, but only because Ace was crying, and when he asked ‘can gramps come out of the box to give me a hug before he goes away?’ everyone has to clench their teeth and hold their breaths to stop their hearts from breaking. Sabo kneeled down to wrap Luffy in a tight hug. Ace covered his face with his arm and cried harder

(They never bother asking Luffy about how the fire started, or what happened that day. Luffy doesn’t remember, and they don’t push it further. The truth isn’t as important as Luffy’s mentality is, but Garp’s old squad promises that they won’t rest until they get to the bottom of it. And as much as Ace and Sabo want justice and revenge, they have Luffy to think about, so they leave it up to the police)

Sabo and Ace are almost 16, and they suddenly have no parental figure, no home, no anything, and suddenly they’re faced with the horrible notion that even more can be taken from them when a blast from their past threatens to take Luffy away from them too.

They’re no stranger to the foster care system, so when social services show up at the motel they were renting with Garp’s savings, they feel their hearts drop to their stomach for fear of the very real possibility that Luffy will be placed in immediate foster care, and possibly, so would they.

Ace and Sabo jump into action then, because no way, no fucking way, were they gonna lose Luffy. They had lost everything else. They almost did lose Luffy. They weren’t gonna risk that chance again.

Ace was only a few weeks older than Sabo. Sabo hadn’t paused a second to jump into the fire, risking life and limb, to protect what little they had. It was Ace’s turn to be the heroic older brother. And on the day he turned 16, Ace petitioned legal guardianship and parental rights for Sabo and Luffy.

And it was hard, because of course the courts felt sorry for him, the grandson of one of the best police chiefs in the county’s history, begging the courts to let him keep what little family he had left together. The courts wanted to give it to him, wanted to help him. But Luffy was a child. And Ace and Sabo were practically still kids themselves. Asking kids to raise themselves was something no one should ask them to do.

But Ace and Sabo fought for it. Ace was 16, and Sabo would be 16 soon enough. They could get GED’s, no problem. They’d get jobs, get a little apartment near Luffy’s school, attend any parenting and child service meeting required of them. They’d buy all the necessities over again and they’d love Luffy where no other foster family could even compare. They’d do everything, everything and anything, to keep Luffy. To let them stay together.

With a couple of vouchers from Garp’s old police squad, including one from an overly enthusiastic Edward Newgate and one from the boy’s homeroom teacher, Makino, the courts ruled in Ace’s and Sabo’s favor, and Luffy was officially theirs until they proved that Luffy was better off somewhere else.

Ace and Sabo were never gonna let that happen.

They got a little 2 bedroom apartment a couple blocks from Luffy’s elementary. They quit school, and worked extra hard to earn their GED’s within the following months. (With the help of their old teachers and a few of their overly enthusiastic neighbors)

Ace got a job at the local fire department, as a rookie in training under Newgate.

Sabo got a job at the local news station, writing reports on top of his interning duties.

Ace eventually got a motorcycle that same year, which scared Sabo half to death and delighted Luffy to no end. It was cheaper than a car, and easier to travel to and from work on, and no matter how hard Sabo tried, he couldn’t come up with a valid reason why Ace shouldn’t use it to their advantage. So Sabo made Ace promise to always wear a helmet when riding it, and that Luffy wasn’t allowed to ride it until he was much older. (Which Luffy pouted about to no end)

And it’s hard at times, both of them working overtime just to make enough to support themselves and keep them afloat, but it’s good, and it’s theirs.

Luffy makes a friend on his first day of first grade named Zoro Roronoa, another kid that lives just across the street from them, and when Ace and Sabo know they’re gonna be late in getting home, Luffy goes over there and hangs out until they can pick him up (Which is totally fine with Zoro’s father Koushirou, a kendo teacher and single father of 6-year-old Zoro and 9-year-old Kuina. Zoro has a bit of a personality problem and often has trouble making friends (because the child doesn’t see a need to) so when little bright-eyed and endlessly joyful Luffy pops into their life, Kushirou jumps at the chance to have him over as much as possible, because the two small children seem to bring out the best in each other, and are best friends attached at the hip) Sabo and Ace are eternally grateful to the kind man)

A few years go by, and Luffy is 8. Ace is still working at the fire station and is now legally allowed to join them on calls and emergencies. (Fire used to make Ace nervous, because he almost lost everything to it. Now he has a personal agenda with it, to make sure it doesn’t take anything from anyone else)

Sabo has moved up the ranks now, and when he turns 18, confronts Ace with a rare job opportunity he was offered.

“It’s a year-long internship for this really cool company that reports and delivers high-class diplomatic information around,” Sabo starts, rubbing the back of his head like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands. “I’d be working as like, a cool undercover spy with diplomatic immunity and a messenger bag. It’s not dangerous at all, and pays almost triple my paycheck now, which would really help us out. But it’s overseas, and I’d be gone for a whole year. You’d be raising Luffy all by yourself, birthdays and holidays and skinned knees, with just the two of you, so say the word, and I’ll totally turn this job down on the spot.”

And it’s scary to Ace. Because he hasn’t been alone since he was 6 years old, and he can’t possibly remember a time when Sabo hadn’t been by his side. His best friend and brother. It was always the two of them. Two little runaways that found a home, lost that home, and then built a new home all on their own despite it all. And neither of them had ever been away from Luffy for longer than a weekend, so Ace was sure it would kill Sabo to be away from them for so long.

But he also knew that Sabo was only playing this off like it wasn’t a big deal, when in fact it was the job opportunity of a lifetime for someone like Sabo, a kid who breathed adventure and freedom with every breath. And that when he talked about it, his eyes sparkled with a joy that Ace would hate himself forever for taking it away.

Sabo was giving Ace the choice, and Ace knew that Sabo would go along with whatever Ace decided without a second thought or complaint. But Ace knew that Sabo would regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't go, so he slugged Sabo in the arm, gave him his best shit-eating, confident grin, (the kind he used to give him right before they were about to steal some food as kids, or about to get into a fight when they were teens) and said, “You let me have a motorcycle. The least I can do is let you go road tripping abroad.”

Because Ace and Luffy would be fine. They’d miss Sabo like crazy, and Ace was pretty sure Sabo was like, 90% of his impulse control, but they’d survive. Sabo had the burn marks to prove how far he was willing to go for their family, and Ace had never thanked him for that. Ace was never gonna live that down, and was going to spend the rest of his life making it up to both Sabo AND Luffy, and prove just how good of an older brother he could be. This was the least he could do for them.

#my work #one piece #monkey d. luffy #Portgas D. Ace #sabo #asl brothers #age gap au #oh ho look at me #my fics all start after this moment when sabo is overseas #so this is just context for that.#enjoy please and sorry in advance #i've thought too much about this au #it lives rent free in my head always

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charlies-gillespie · 3 years

Text

private relationship | charlie gillespie (part 1)

PART TWO

paring: fem!reader x charlie gillespie

summary: reader and Charlie have been in a very private relationship. none of their fans know that they’re together, until a slip up at a very public event changes everything for the pair

requested: no

length: long

rating: PG (borderline PG-13 tho for some nsfw jokes)

warnings: a dirty joke or two, a few sexual innuendos throughout, drinking

!! MY GIF - give creds if used !!

authors note: “mon amour” means “my love” in french. it’ll probably be used a lot throughout the imagine

another author’s note: would y’all want a part two, but with smut?

MASTERLIST

“Charlie!” you call. Your voice echoes through your apartment. “Can you come here for a second?”

You need help zipping your dress. Charlie was the first to get to your apartment. He’s been waiting for Owen, Madison, Jeremy, Jadah, and Savannah, and Sacha to get here so your group can go to the release party together. It’s a formal event so you had to wear a dress and heels. It wasn’t your first choice, especially the heels part.

Charlie appears in the doorway and says, “Yea- woah.” You see him in your mirror. His eyes are on you. He looks good in his suit that he’s wearing. His jacket and pants are black, his button-up beneath the jacket is white, but he wears a silver tie to compliment the color of your pale pink dress since he can’t match your dress.

A smile forms on your lips and you ask, “Can you come zip up my dress, please?” Charlie nods and walks into your bedroom. You watch him as he slowly zips up your dress.

The dress is a long, baby pink dress with satin fabric. The skirt is a little poofy from the waist down. The top hugs your chest, pushing your breasts up a little bit so they look a little bigger than they actually are. A sparkly silver belt sits on your waist to add some sparkle to the dress. The sleeves are off your shoulders, and there are hidden pockets in the skirt.

Your boyfriend admires you in the mirror. You’re fully dressed now. Your hair is loosely curled and you have a natural makeup look painted on your face. The light color of the dress compliments your tan skin.

“You look stunning, mon amour,” Charlie sighs. “Absolutely stunning.”

You lean your head back a bit, resting it against Charlie’s shoulder. “You clean up very nicely, Charlie,” you say. “I like that you matched me without actually matching me.”

He laughs and says, “I might’ve had Mads and Jadah help me with that little detail. I wanted to match you but it would draw suspicion to us.”

When you and Charlie started dating almost nine months ago, both of you agreed to keep it on the very low. No social media posts unless hanging out in a group setting, no tagging each other in stories if you were alone together, and only going as far as following each other on social media since you’ve worked on the same show together. The fans don’t even know that you’re friends with each other at this point. Only your closest friends that are going with you to the event tonight know that you and Charlie are together.

Kenny Ortega also knows since he’s technically your boss and you’re both co-workers. He also might have found you making out with Charlie after the two of you got carried away when cuddling on Julie’s bed after a few hours of shooting scenes. You couldn’t lie to him after that.

Tonight is a very public event. Pictures will be taken, journalists will be wanting every juicy detail, and fans have been invited to the event so if there’s even a little be of suspicion, it won’t take very long to go public. It’s the release night party for Julie and the Phantoms season two. Everyone’s been invited to watch the first few episodes of the new season.

You feel Charlie kiss your bare shoulder and you giggle softly. “I’m sure everyone will be getting here soon so we should go wait out in the living room,” you tell your boyfriend.

“I wish I was able to touch you tonight,” he says. “It’s your big Netflix debut, Y/N. I wish I was able to hug you and show you how proud I am of you.”

A little sigh leaves your body and you say, “You can hug me. I’m sure a friendly hug won’t hurt, as long as you hug other people too. As for showing me that you’re proud of me, you can do that later when we’re alone.” You send him a playful wink so he gets what you mean.

Charlie’s jaw drops and he blinks at you. “I-you, um,” your boyfriend stammers. “Okay, yeah. I’m going to show you just how proud I am of you later, baby.”

You turn and face Charlie. “I look forward to it, Charlie,” you tell him, leaning up. He smiles and lightly pecks your lips.

Someone knocks on the door and you click out of the room in your silver heels to answer the door. Owen and Jeremy stand at the door. Jer’s wife, Carolynn, stands beside him.

“Hi, Y/N,” Owen greets you. “You look very pretty. I saw Charlie’s car in the parking garage so where is that loser?”

You laugh and say, “Probably still in my bedroom. Go get him. I think I shocked him or something with my words.” Owen pushes past you. Jeremy follows him, leaving you and Carolynn alone.

Carolynn smiles and says, “I love that color on you, Y/N. It suits you.”

“Thank you,” you say, shooting her a little smile. You’ve grown close to Carolynn since she’s married to Jeremy and you’ve spent a lot of time hanging out with the guys in a group.

You let Carolynn walk in before closing the door behind her. Faintly, you hear Owen say, “Bro, what’s going on with you? Your face is red.”

Charlie responds with, “I am so having sex tonight, dude.”

Both you and Carolynn laugh in the living room as Carolynn asks, “I don’t want to know what that’s about, do I?”

As you sit, you say, “Charlie said he wishes he could touch me tonight at the party so he could show me how proud he was of me. I told him he can show me how proud he is of me later when we’re alone.”

Carolynn says, “Ah, okay. That makes sense. Congratulations, by the way. Making your big Netflix debut tonight. How’s it feel?”

“I’m excited, but very nervous,” you admit. “The first season did so well and won so many awards that I’m scared that I’m going to come in and ruin the whole show and that people won’t like my character.”

She says, “You play the nice daughter of the villain of the show. Everyone will probably love you when they realize that your character wants to help the Phantoms instead of siding with Caleb. Don’t tell Jer and the guys but I think you have one of the best songs of the season so I think the fans will definitely love that.”

You smile as there is another knock on the door. Charlie, Owen, and Jeremy come into the living room as you answer the door.

Savannah stands in the doorway with Mads, Sacha, and Jadah. “I had to pick up the kiddos,” Sav says. “Ooh, Y/N. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you say, smiling. “We’re just waiting for the limo to get here. I think we have a half hour or so before it gets here.”

Kenny is sending a limo to your apartment for the nine of you. When you decided to go as a group so you and Charlie could go together, Kenny pitched in and helped like the wonderful human being he is.

Owen decides to go live with Jeremy on his Instagram account for a few minutes. Carolynn talks with Savannah, Sacha, and Jadah while you find yourself talking with Charlie and Madison.

Mads says, “Kenny is giving us the opportunity to sing on stage together tonight. He told me that we can pick whatever song from either season. He thinks the fans would want to hear Perfect Harmony or Stand Tall since those were massive after season one dropped.”

Charlie nods and says, “Stand Tall would be good since all of us can get in on that number. I can talk to Jeremy and Owen about it when they get off live.”

You smile at the two of them and say, “That’s exciting. The fans will be so excited for this little surprise.”

“We can thank Kenny when it goes really well,” Mads says with a laugh. “He’s always got these great ideas. I don’t know how he comes up with them.”

Both you and Charlie laugh as your phone rings. You answer it, speaking to the limo driver. After a moment, you hang up the phone and announce, “Limo is here. Let’s head on out.”

Everyone gets their things together, Owen gets off Instagram live, and you all head down two floors to pile into the limo.

The drive from your apartment to the Laglyan Complex on North Vine Street is close to forty minutes. It was close to six when you left and it’s almost seven when you arrive to the venue for tonight’s event.

There is a red carpet laid out across the front of the building to the door. There is a lot of press here and a lot of cameras flashing. Cheyenne Jackson and Booboo Stewart are together on the carpet. You spot Kenny with one of the assistant directors.

When the press spots the limo, they begin to mumble to each other as they try to figure out who is in the car. Owen and Jeremy get out first. The press begin to snap pictures of the guys. Madison gets out with Jadah. Carolynn, Sacha, and Savannah. Sacha pairs up with Savannah while Mads, Jadah and Carolynn walk the carpet together until Carolynn finds her way to her husband.

Charlie helps you out of the car. The journalists call Charlie’s name as you close the door behind you. “Go,” you order him. “I’ll be okay. You’re the star of the show.” He smiles and sends you a wink since his back is turned toward the cameras. He walks off and your eyes follow him. Cheyenne walks over.

“Look at you, Y/N,” he says. “You look wonderful.”

You smile and say, “Thank you, Cheyenne. You look nice tonight. I love the suit.” He wears a shirt similar to his Julie and the Phantoms character, Caleb Covington. You play his daughter on the show.

Cheyenne holds his arm out for you and you hook your elbow with his. The cameras snap away at you and Cheyenne since the two of you play a father-daughter duo. Booboo comes and joins you and Cheyenne as the ‘Hollywood Ghost Club Crew’, as Booboo dubbed the three of you. The band is getting pictures together. Savannah, Sacha, and Jadah are getting their pictures taken together. Carolynn is getting her pictures done.

The journalists call out questions to the cast. They ask Madi which season was her favorite, which she replies with, “Y’all really going to make me choose? I can’t do that.”

Owen is asked whether or not we’ll get a Willex kiss in the future, which Owen replies with, “We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

All the journalists laugh. One of them calls out, “Y/N, what was it like joining a show that already had a pretty large fan base and a successful first season?”

“It was nerve wracking at first,” you admit. “But the cast welcomed me with open arms and I’ve made some very, very close friends.” You shoot a smile to the cameras.

A second journalist calls out to everyone, “Are there any secret romances on set that no one knows about?”

Most of the cast, including you and Charlie, laughs. Owen answers with, “Now it wouldn’t be a secret if we told everyone. But no, there aren’t any secret romances. That I know of at least.”

After a few more pictures and questions, we all head inside. The main room as a bunch of tables set up and a little stage with Madi’s piano, Charlie’s guitars, Jeremy’s bass, and Owen’s drums. There are a few fans that were exclusively invited that are scattered around. They start getting excited when they see you walk in with everyone.

You find your table. You’re sitting with Owen, Charlie, Jeremy, Carolynn, Cheyenne, Booboo, and Savannah. This is the “adult” table, you guess. Mads, Jadah, and Sacha sit with Kenny and a few of the younger cast members at another table.

You’re sitting between Charlie and Owen. Someone needs to sit between them or they’ll be at each other all night. That’s your argument if someone is suspicious of you and Charlie.

Suddenly, you feel someone’s fingers lace with yours under the cloth that’s on the table. You glance over at Charlie and he has a little smile on his face as he talks with Jeremy. You turn and say to Owen softly, “Did Charlie really say that he’s having sex tonight?”

Owen laughs a bit and nods. “He thinks he is anyway,” the blond says. “Is he?”

“If he can behave himself then yes,” you say. Owen chuckles.

You feel Charlie squeeze your hand. You know he heard so you smile.

After small conversation with everyone at the table, you get up and get a drink. You walk to the bar, asking for a martini. While you wait, you’re approached by a guy dressed in a nice button-up shirt and dress pants. His hair is in a neat bun behind his head. “Hi,” he says. “I’m Austin.”

“Y/N,” you say.

“I couldn’t notice you came over here alone,” he says.

The bartender gives you your drink and you say, “I just came over to grab a drink. I was going to go back to my table after I grabbed it.”

Austin pulls out his wallet and hands the bartender a twenty dollar bill. “Let me at least pay for it,” he says.

You smile a bit and say, “Thank you. I must be headed back to the table with my friends now. I appreciate the drink, though.”

He blocks your way and you look up at him. “How about a dance in return for the drink?” Austin suggests.

Feeling more and more uncomfortable, you say, “Maybe later. I need to get back to my friends.”

Austin asks, “What’s the rush? It’s not like you have a boyfriend or anything. I follow your social media accounts and you never post a guy.”

You begin to say, “Actually, I-” before Charlie walks up. You let out a soft sigh of relief.

“Everything okay here?” Charlie asks. “You were taking a while to come get a drink so I thought that I’d come check.”

The stranger says, “All good here. I was just offering Y/N a dance here since I paid for her drink.”

Charlie looks down at you and blinks before you say, “I didn’t ask him to pay for it. He took out a twenty and offered.” Austin looks between you and your secret boyfriend.

Then Charlie says, “If you offered yourself then Y/N isn’t obligated to dance with you just because you paid for her drink.”

Austin says, “Well, I’ll just ask again later.” The man walks away and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Your boyfriend moves and stands in front of you. He asks, “Are you okay?”

You nod and say, “Yeah, thank you. It was just uncomfortable. I didn’t know how to get out of it.”

Charlie reaches up to cup your face in his hands but he stops before he can touch your face. You look up at him before you lean forward, putting your face in Charlie’s hands. Your eyes flutter closed and you smile.

“Y/N,” Charlie says. “People are looking.”

With a sigh, you say, “I just need you to touch me, Charlie. I want you.”

He runs his thumbs over your cheekbones and you can hear pictures being taken. You put your drink on the bar counter and step closer to Charlie.

Your eyes open and you find Charlie looking down at you. He says, “You know what this means for us, right?”

You nod and say, “Our on-the-low relationship isn’t as on the low now. I don’t mind that anymore because I’m tired of guys coming up and trying to flirt with me while I have a boyfriend.”

Charlie chuckles a bit as he says, “I hope that means I can kiss you now. It’s all I’ve wanted to do tonight.”

“Yeah,” you sigh.

With no hesitation, Charlie leans down and crashes his lips to yours. You press your body against his, grabbing his jacket and holding him close to you. You kiss Charlie back just as hard as he kissed you. Your eyes are closed again but you can see flashes behind your eyes. You pull back from the kiss and stare up at Charlie.

Both of you smile at each other as Charlie says, “You better be ready for what happens after this.”

You push Charlie’s hair away form his face and say, “What happens after this is you get on that stage tonight, you kill it, we go back to your place because it’s closer, and you get all the sex you want.”

Charlie’s face turns a little red and he says, “I will never get used to you saying something sexual to me. I hope you know that.”

“You better, Mr. Gillespie,” you tell him. “I’m not the innocent girl that you met a year and a half ago.”

He laughs and says, “Trust me. I know you’re not the innocent girl that I met last year. You’ve proven that several times at this point.”

With a smile on your face, you take Charlie’s hand in yours before grabbing your drink and walking back to the table with your friends. When you get back to the table, you scoot closer to Charlie and rest your head on his shoulder. Owen looks over and says, “Woah, being affectionate in public. This isn’t the best idea.”

You say, “It’s okay, Owen. Everything is okay.”

Owen looks confused as you look up at Charlie. Charlie looks at his best friend and says, “I kissed her. At the the bar when I went to check on her. Cameras saw so that’s going to be a huge thing in the morning.”

Jeremy says, “Well, congratulations on making your relationship public, I guess.”

The table laughs. Owen looks at you, Charlie, Jeremy, and Carolynn before he says, “I need a relationship. I feel so single right now.”

Charlie says, “You’d actually have to talk to people to get a girlfriend, Owen.”

“Haha,” Owen says, sticking his tongue out at Charlie. You laugh.

***

At nine, Madi, Charlie, Owen, and Jeremy all leave to get ready. They decided on Stand Tall for the number they’re going to perform. It’s almost 9:30 when Kenny gets on the mic on stage. “Hello, everyone,” he says. “Today, Netflix released season two of Julie and the Phantoms. To celebrate, I offered our band the chance to perform a song of their choice. So, let’s all welcome Madison Reyes, Charlie Gillespie, Jeremy Shada, and Owen Patrick Joyner to the stage for their performance of whatever song they chose.”

The crowd cheers as everyone walks onto the stage, taking their place. You and Carolynn get a front row seat while you both watch your guys perform. You notice Charlie took off his jacket and his tie. He also cut off the sleeves, but that doesn’t surprise you. The top few buttons of his white button-up are unbuttoned, showing off his chest a bit.

Mads begins to play the first few keys to the song.

Don't blink No, I don't want to miss it One thing, and it’s back to the beginning Cause everything is rushing in fast Keep going on, never look back

You smile and watch Madi sing. She’s insanely talented and you’re so glad that the world was able to hear her voice.

The guys nod their heads to the beat while they wait for their signal to begin playing. Once they get their cues, they begin to play one by one.

Right now, I'm loving every minute Hands down, can't let myself forgеt it, no Cause everything is rushing in fast Keep holding on, nеver look back

Charlie plays like he’s flickering on and off stage like he does on the show. You smile and admire your boyfriend. You know how talented he is, especially those fingers of his, but he never ceases to amaze you how talented he is.

And it’s one, two, three, four times That I'll try for one more night Light a fire in my eyes I'm going out of my mind

You smile wide when Charlie sings his line at the end of the pre-chorus. Then he begins to sing his part of the song and you dance with Carolynn. The crowd sings and dances behind you two.

The four of them finish the song and smile. The crowd cheers and you smile, looking at Charlie. He has the biggest smile on his face, which is covered in a layer of sweat. His hair is damp with sweat too. Charlie bows with his closest friends before putting his guitar on the stand. He jumps off the stage and comes over to you.

“I told you that you’d kill it,” you tell him when he gets to you.

Charlie laughs and says, “Oh, hush.” He pulls you into a soft kiss. You smile and kiss him back, making your relationship with him completely public. The people around you cheer a bit as Charlie pulls away.

You look up at him and say, “You’re going to have so much fun being able to hugs me and kiss me in public now, aren’t you?”

He smiles and stares down at you. Charlie says, “Maybe I’ll be having too much fun now.”

As you brush some of the hair away from Charlie’s eyes, you say, “Please try to keep the PDA to a minimum, Charlie. You do have a lot of younger fans. Save most of it for when we’re alone.”

“Like how we will be tonight?” Charlie asks, eyes hopeful.

You laugh and say, “Just like how we will be tonight.” Then an idea pops into your idea. “This dress is getting really hot. I might need to take it off soon.”

Charlie gets what you’re trying to say so he replies with, “Let’s go.”

He takes your hand and hops over the barricade. You smile as he leads you through the crowd of people. Charlie calls you an Uber so you can both go back to his place tonight.

#charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie imagines #charlie gillespie x oc #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie x y/n #julie and the phantoms imagines #jatp imagines #jatp imagine #fluff imagines #imagines #imagine #fluff

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rainydaydream-gal18 · 3 years

Text

(Clone Wars - Bad Batch) Crosshair x Reader: Rescue from the Citadel

(Author’s Note: This was a rad request, and I enjoyed writing it! Hope you like it!!!

OG Request: Can I get a Jedi!reader x Crosshair fic where they’re trying to rescue them from the citadel?)

You jolted out of your attempt at slumber by the roar of blaster fire outside the cell door. A loud click echoed before the door’s mechanics groaned as it slid open. Usually when your captors showed up, it didn’t quite sound like that. A feeling you hadn’t felt in a long time lifted you. “Crosshair,” you coughed. “What are you doing here? In this place?”

“I thought it was obvious?” he muttered through the modulator of his helmet “We’re here to rescue you.” You couldn’t see his expression, but there was something very solemn about his tone even in his attempt to be sarcastic. The dark visor seemed to look at you every which way as the man behind it took in your weak state.

Another familiar armor-clad figure entered the room, firing off a few shots out the door before turning around to face you. “__________.”

“Hunter,” you managed a smile. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes? But seriously, what are you all doing here? The Citadel is a horrible place, and there was only-”

“Only one known successful escape,” Tech’s voice interjected as he walked in, the holo-display in his helmet scanning you as he approached. “We are well aware of the odds, __________.”

“But as always, bad odds aren’t enough to stop us,” Hunter continued. You heard a tenderness in his voice. “Especially when it comes to our favorite jedi.”

“More droids are on the way!” Wrecker growled as he walked in. His helmet looked at you. “Hey, __________!”

“Hey, Wrecker,” you gave a little wave after Crosshair used his rifle to bash the restraints from your wrists. You flexed your hands and summoned what strength you had in you to stand to your feet. It wasn’t enough. Your knees quickly buckled beneath you, earning an utterance of your name in concern from the nearest Bad Batcher. Crosshair quickly caught you, cradling your form while you blinked in surprise. “Woah. Sorry about that, Cross.”

“Quit apologizing. The only one who should be sorry are the scum running this facility.”

“We really need to get moving,” Tech urged. “My scanners indicate that Wrecker is right: there are a lot more droids coming.”

“Alright, Bad Batch, let’s get outta’ here.” Hunter nodded in your direction. “Wrecker?”

Wrecker marched over and outstretched his hands, allowing Crosshair to carefully transfer you to his arms. Your hand instinctively held onto Crosshair’s gloved one, refusing to release your hold on him.

“It’s okay, _________,” he assured you in a quieter voice- much too quiet for the stress of the situation. He leaned down to set his rifle onto the floor and take off his helmet to reveal a face softened in sympathy for your pain. “Wrecker’s going to carry you out of here, and after that, I’m never letting go of you again.”

Whether it was the words he said, the way he gazed at you so sincerely, or the way his voice lowered as he spoke; it did the trick. The wild beating of your heart began to find a steady rhythm. He leaned in and gently pressed his lips to yours in case you weren’t completely convinced. You were so tired, but you returned the kiss with an exhale of relief, even though you hadn’t made the escape yet. You just knew it would be okay. Crosshair made you feel like it was. Something flashed in his eyes as he put his bucket back over his head. Wrecker lifted you in his arms, and that was the last thing you remembered.

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

You awoke to the sound of gentle snoring, and for the first time in a while you felt warm and comfortable. Crosshair was fast asleep on the couch while you were gently tucked in against him with his arm draped over your form. You pulled the blanket down a little because it was bordering on too warm.

“__________?” he mumbled, the snoring on pause as he stirred. “You okay?”

You yawned and snuggled closer, seeing in the darkness that he had opened his eyes to look at you with concern. “I’m better than okay. What happened?”

“Tech patched you up when we got back. You didn’t want to be alone, so I stayed with you here on the couch to watch a holovid. You fell asleep ten minutes into the vid.”

It was starting to come back to you. “Thanks, Cross.” You buried your face in his shoulder. “I didn’t want you guys to put yourselves at risk coming to get me….but...I’m still glad you came back for me.”

“Always,” he yawned, turning his head and closing his eyes again. “You’d do the same for any of us.”

He was right. If any one of them had been captured, there was no way you would have left them. The bond you’d formed with the Bad Batch was something you hadn’t expected when first being assigned to join their squad on a mission. You especially hadn’t expected to find love with the moodiest of the bunch.

“Hey, Cross-” your whisper was cut off by the sound of his gentle snoring again, and you smiled affectionately as you planted a kiss on his chin. Tomorrow would be a new day. You’d get up and grab yourself a cup of caf and watch the stars streak by in hyperspace. Crosshair would be there beside you. Hunter would emerge from his quarters to fix some breakfast. Wrecker would greet you with a big hug. Tech would be making an extra strong cup of caf since he tended to be a nightowl. It would be like any other day with the squad. After what you’d been through and what you’d seen, that was exactly what you wanted.

#bad batch #star wars the clone wars #clone wars bad batch #bad batch x reader #crosshair x reader #crosshair imagine #bad batch imagine #clone wars crosshair x reader #bad batch crosshair x reader #bad batch crosshair #star wars the bad batch #bad batch reader insert #clone wars reader insert #crosshair reader insert

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keigoslovebird · 4 years

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Next Chapter

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Reader

Warnings: Manga spoilers!! Pregnancy and references to pregnancy, you have a child (obvi), aged up characters, breeding kink, negative self image (on Toshi’s part), references to alcohol, self deprecating language, very fluffy Daddy Toshi shenanigans

Genre: Fluff, smut

Word count: 8.3k

Author’s note: I had so much fun writing soft husband Toshi, if it isn’t obvious by the word count. I just want to rub his soft belly and tell him how much I love him. Hopefully you enjoy this as much as I did writing it!

Note: Flashbacks indicated by italics

Wakatoshi Ushijima has always been a man of few emotions and even fewer words, with just one thing on his mind—volleyball.

Since he was a young child, he has always slept, eaten, breathed volleyball. Nothing came close to his fiery, burning passion for the sport, not that he had the time to care about anything else.

That all changed when he retired from professional volleyball at the ripe young age of thirty-one, the years of wear and tear on his body finally catching up to him. He knew it was time when the pain in his joints was so severe he could no longer keep up with his much younger teammates. It was a difficult, emotional decision, but he ultimately viewed it as passing the torch to the next generation of volleyball players.

The announcement of Wakatoshi’s retirement was met with great sadness from the sports community at the loss of such a talented, renowned player, but he left behind an exceptional legacy marked by achievements and historic wins.

His final game with the Schweiden Adlers concluded in a symbolic victory, this chapter of his life drawing to a close the same way it began—with Wakatoshi as an indisputable champion. Every player, coach, and audience member rose from their seats, clapping and screaming words of encouragement. Each of his teammates got on their knees, lowering themselves to press their foreheads into the floor of the stadium, bowing in an ultimate show of respect. The sight of his peers, his coaches, the entire auditorium giving him such an impassioned send off made a heavy lump form in his throat that refused to go away, no matter how many times he tried to swallow it down. Tears pricked at his eyes but he didn’t want to cry, not in front of all of these people.

The dam broke when you sprinted across the court, wrapping yourself around him in a bone crushing hug.

“You did so well Toshi. I am so proud of you,” you praised through choked sobs, pressing your tear-stained face into his neck. Your watery eyes and trembling smile shattered whatever willpower he had, his own tears streaming down his face like a waterfall. All those late night practices away from you, the excruciating injuries, the heartbreaking losses, all led up to this moment. This was the last time the Super Ace would step foot on a volleyball court as a professional player, but all good things must come to an end.

The screaming and clapping was so loud you could barely hear his quiet, trembling whisper of, “I love you.”

----

It took him awhile to adjust to what one would call a “normal” life, one that didn’t include daily flights from country to country or backbreaking practices that lasted from sunup to sundown. Sure he still went to the gym and practiced with the volleyball net strung up in your backyard, but it was nothing like his grueling schedule when he was a pro athlete. To make matters worse, the blinders he wore his entire life that blocked out anything but volleyball prevented him from finding any real hobbies of his own. This meant for the first few months, your husband followed you around the house like a lost puppy, just wanting to be a part of whatever you were doing.

You would be cooking dinner, some soup simmering on the stove, when Wakatoshi’s massive form would come up from behind you to shyly peek over your shoulder.

“What’re you doing?” he wondered, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

You could feel a smile tugging at your lips at how cute he was being, getting used to domestic life, something you never really got to experience until now. Before, you would often be sleeping when he came home at night, and still be asleep when he left in the morning. “I’m just cooking, do you want to help me?” you asked, holding a knife out to him to cut some vegetables. He nodded silently as he took the knife from you.

His chopping skills left much to be desired, but what could you really expect from a man who only ever held a volleyball?

Another time you were sitting on the couch, scrolling through Twitter on your phone. You could feel your husband staring so intensely you were afraid he’d pop a blood vessel in his head.

Looking up at him, you cleared your throat and asked, “Did you need something, Toshi?” You set your phone down and gave him a questioning look, hoping to solve whatever was troubling him.

He was pensive for a moment, his eyebrows scrunching as he figured out what he was trying to say. “No, I just… There’s nothing to do,” he answered finally.

You nearly burst out laughing at his concern for simply being bored, but you held it in. “Of course there’s something to do!” you exclaimed, “You can go on a walk, read a book, watch TV, or even just take a nap.”

His head tilted quizzically, unsure of what you were suggesting. “A… nap? Why would I sleep? It’s the middle of the afternoon,” he questioned, sounding like you had proposed he eat sand and not to take a quick snooze.

You chuckled and walked over to the chair he was sitting in, plopping yourself down into his lap. “Sometimes people sleep in the middle of the day because they’re tired, or just because they want to,” you clarified, “We can go take a nap right now if you would like.”

Suddenly Wakatoshi stood up, causing you to squeak in surprise, his arms securely carrying you bridal style.

“W-what’re you doing!?” you squealed, panicked by your sudden lack of solid ground, slightly struggling in arms.

He tilted his head again, reminiscent of a pet confused by its master’s orders. “We’re going to take a nap together, yes? I’m taking you to our room,” he said, jerking his head in the direction of your shared bedroom.

You stopped squirming once you took in his words, your belly fluttering with affection. Sighing happily, you snuggled your face against his chest, giving him a simple “mhm” in response.

That day Wakatoshi took his first nap since he was six years old and to this day, he still swears he’s never had a more restful, peaceful sleep in his life.

Those instances happened less and less often as he figured out ways to occupy his time that didn’t involve volleyball.

You adopted a dog, a commitment you didn’t want to make in the past due to both of your busy schedules, but your lives became a lot less hectic after Wakatoshi’s retirement. Your husband made it a daily ritual to take your puppy Leo out on a morning run, both of them returning tired and sweaty before promptly passing out for an hour. He took up a job at the local university to help coach their men’s volleyball team, deciding to try it out when the requests to lend his wisdom and skills kept coming in. Although, his favorite pastime now consists of him standing outside on the patio, beer in hand as he sweats over the flames of his fancy silver grill.

But perhaps the most significant change in your lives came in the form of your son, Hidetoshi.

Much like your refusal to commit to taking care of a dog, neither of you wanted to have kids while your lifestyle was so unfit to raise a child. You didn’t mind making those compromises for your husband, having known the path he would take since you started dating in high school. Frankly, you didn’t mind not having children at all, so it surprised you when he was the one to broach the subject.

“What if we did?” he inquired under the darkness of your bedroom.

You turned over to face him, reaching up to gently stroke his cheek. “What if we did what, my love?” you murmured.

His eyes flitted across your face with an uncharacteristic nervousness. “What if we decided to have a child?” The shock on your face made his stomach churn uncomfortably and he almost regretted saying anything at all, but his fears quickly vanished as your expression melted into a soft smile.

“We’d have to talk about it more but I’d love to have your children, Wakatoshi Ushijima.”

You had a deep, lengthy conversation about your wants, needs, plans for the future, and whether or not a kid would fit into them. Once all of your cards were on the table you decided to start trying to get pregnant, a mission that your husband took very seriously.

Even as a teenager Wakatoshi’s sex drive wasn’t very high, and his frequent absence and exhaustion in his adult life made it somewhat difficult for you to have sex often. You made up for it where you could, having phone sex and masturbating together over FaceTime, once you convinced him to do it. When he was bewildered as to why you would suggest such a salacious act, you explained you were a grown woman with needs and if he wasn’t there to take care of them, he’d have to help you in other ways. Once he realized how serious you were, he agreed.

But your husband as a young adult and your husband post-retirement are almost two completely different people in regards to sex. He has seemingly unlimited reserves of stamina, built up over years of rigorous, intense training, and he no longer had an outlet to expend them. So, his new outlet to test his endurance became you and your body.

He began fucking you every chance he got with the vigor and gusto of a hormonal teenager, seeking to make up for lost time. He asked for sex at all hours of the day, waking you up in the middle of the night with the insistent prodding of his arousal and lazily thrusting between your thighs in the early hours of the morning before you had to leave for work. He fucked you in every room in your house and on every surface—on the dining room table, in the shower, on the living room floor, and even on your back patio when you both got a little too drunk on some cheap rose.

You welcomed Wakatoshi’s insatiable hunger with open arms, unable to resist your strong, ridiculously handsome husband, but that, coupled with his seemingly limitless stamina, spelled trouble for your muscles and pelvis. In the first year after his departure from professional sports you had to call in sick to work seven times, too tired to function, too bruised to look presentable, and too sore to walk to the bathroom. At first he felt guilty for fucking you out of commission, but the way you begged him so sweetly to pound your needy, gushing cunt deeper, harder, faster and how you whimpered with delight when he bit bruises down your throat, he didn’t feel that bad. A baser, more primal part of Wakatoshi’s brain purred at his marks covering our body and relished in the way you limped. You were just too tempting, too irresistible not to ravage you every chance he got.

After you agreed to start trying for a baby, your partner’s already voracious sexual appetite became downright menacing now that he had a goal to strive for.

“Gonna breed you, gonna fill you so full with my cum and knock you up,” he grunted as he battered into your sore, dripping hole, your body folded in half in a mating press.

“P-please Toshi! Ah~ please,” you babbled, nonsensical and uncertain what you were even asking for. He had been fucking you for so long everything was muddled into a singular dreamy, intangible haze of pleasure and ecstasy.

Wakatoshi gave your clit a slap, hard enough to make you cry out. “Please what? Please breed you like a bitch in heat? Please stuff you full with my cum?” He leaned down to wrap his fingers around your throat, squeezing with enough force to make your head swim and forcing you to look into his wild olive eyes. “Well, what is it?” he demanded.

“W-want you to b-ah! Want you to breed mee,” you slurred, too drunk on the delicious feeling of his cock dragging against your pulsing walls to form a more coherent sentence.

His thrusts grew sloppy and uncoordinated with his impending orgasm. “G-gonna give you what you want, you cock hungry slut, I’m—” He came with a choked, shuddering groan, his warm cum flooding your awaiting womb.

You were both basking in the afterglow, exhausted and soaked in sweat and your combined fluids, when you noticed the furious blush spreading across your husband’s cheeks. “I apologize for what I said during sex. I… I don’t know what came over me,” he confessed, giving your shoulder a remorseful squeeze.

Giggling, you leaned forward to kiss his cheek. “Don’t be sorry. I really enjoyed it,” you proclaimed, “I love it when you get rough with me.”

Trying to get you pregnant gave your husband a new goal to strive for and he has never been one to do anything with less than his all.

Thanks to your husband’s dedicated efforts, you got pregnant six months after you started trying, to your shared elation and delight. Those two little lines filled you with as much excitement as they made you anxious, but as long as Wakatoshi was by your side, everything would be okay.

Seeing your little bundle of joy in a 3D ultrasound changed you, changed Wakatoshi forever. Up until then you had only seen him as a colorless little blur on a computer screen, but getting to watch his precious face scrunch and his chubby legs kick reminded you that he was a real living being. The late night sprints to the bathroom, horrible morning sickness, and miserably aching back were all worth it when you were able to hold Hidetoshi for the first time. With his olive eyes, brown hair and chubby cheeks, he was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen and to this day he still is.

Taking after his father from the start, Hidetoshi was a happy baby that rarely fussed or cried, not that you complained. He slept soundly through most nights, so soundly you slept in a chair by his crib for the first month to periodically check he was still breathing, despite your husband’s insistence the baby would be fine. Your mother-in-law had insisted that you and Wakatoshi would be exhausted for the first several months after the birth. Imagine her surprised when you and Wakatoshi looked just as well-rested as usual, better even, since you no longer had to deal with pregnancy. Many people, relatives and strangers alike, were astounded at how charming and polite your son was, even as a newborn. He was happy to just sit and play with his toys as you had lunch, smiling and waving at everyone who passed by.

A man as attractive as your husband with a boy as sweet as your son meant that, much to your irritation, women were tripping over themselves to flirt with him. To make matters worse, Wakatoshi picked up your son alone most days due to your office job preventing you from leaving early enough to go with him. This meant many of the moms at Hidetoshi’s school thought your husband was single and they weren’t shy in their pursuit.

A crowd of women surrounded Wakatoshi as he waited for school to end so your son would come running out with his arms spread wide, confident his daddy would always catch him. Most of the moms simply stared at your husband with dreamy looks in their eyes, attempting to make small talk with him.

One especially bold mother reached out and stroked his bicep, slightly squeezing to get a feel for his muscles. “My my Ushijima, you’re so handsome and strong,” she purred, batting her eyelashes at him.

“My wife thinks so as well,” he grunted as he gently but firmly removed his arm from her grasp.

The woman looked as if he had slapped her across the face and cursed her family. “Y-you’re married? But you don’t even have a wedding ring!” she spluttered, “If you have a wife then where is she everyday?”

“I do have a ring. I just don’t wear it on my finger because I’m afraid of losing it,” he clarified, lightly tugging on the chain around his neck for emphasis, his ring clinking softly against the metal. “I’m happily married to my wife who cannot be here because she is hard at work providing for our family. Do not disrespect my wife or my marriage again or we will have a problem.”

After that the other moms kept their distance, choosing to admire Wakatoshi from afar. It did not, however, stop them from staring with envy on the rare occasion you came with him to pick up your child, glowering at you with an intensity that surely wished you would drop dead. Your husband paid them no mind and neither did you because at the end of the day, you’re the one he chose to marry and have a child with. They can all flirts and look as much as they want, but they’ll never have him like you do.

----

Fast forward to present day, Wakatoshi is seven years into his retirement at the age of thirty-eight and Hidetoshi is now six.

Your husband is an assistant coach part time for the men’s volleyball team at an up and coming university, the rest of his time divided between you and taking care of your son. Hidetoshi just started kindergarten, growing far too fast for your liking. He seems to have gotten a double dose of his father’s genes as he’s already several inches taller than his classmates, though you can tell by the way he smiles and the slope of his nose that he’s yours as well. He’s the perfect combination of both of you—he has Wakatoshi’s tenacity, work ethic, and confidence and your sense of humor, intelligence, and empathy. He continues to amaze you every single day and you nor your husband couldn’t imagine a boy more wonderful than him.

These days your lives are a lot less busy than they were when your husband was still a pro, but sometimes it doesn’t feel that way. With all the playdates, school functions, and parent-teacher conferences combined with your own job, Wakatoshi’s games, and regular house chores, sometimes it feels like you’re right back where you were ten years ago. This time, however, you have your incredible husband and son helping you and you wouldn’t trade your life for anything, no matter how hectic it may be.

Today is Saturday, it’s the weekend, and you’re only awake because of the bright sunlight that’s streaming through your bedroom window and hitting you directly in the face. You rub the sleep out of your eyes with the back of your hand, yawning loudly as you stretch your tired limbs. As soon as you try to get out of bed Wakatoshi’s arm around your waist tightens, pulling you flush against his solid, muscular chest.

“Don’t leave. Don’t need to be anywhere,” he mumbles into his pillow, voice even deeper and raspier with sleep. His legs entangle themselves with your own so you’re completely enveloped in the warm, comforting embrace of your husband.

“Need to start getting ready for the party,” you sigh drowsily, but make no efforts to remove yourself from his sleepy but surprisingly strong clutches.

“Not yet,” he says simply, and that’s when you realize when he’s doing. He’s slowly, lazily grinding his morning wood on the soft curve of your ass. You’re a little more awake now.

“Oh I see what this is about,” you chuckle, wiggling yourself against him teasingly.

He groans quietly under his breath, but you can feel the sound rumble in his chest. “Want you,” he says, still groggy from just barely waking up. His fingers find the hem of your shirt and he slips them underneath it, trailing his digits lightly down your stomach, making you shiver.

“Little man will be up soon,” you halfheartedly protest, but you can feel the warmth pooling between your legs.

“He’s not up yet, we have time.” The movements of his hips become more insistent, more demanding and you have to stifle your mewls behind your hand. Wakatoshi easily maneuvers his hand into the waistband of your panties, making a satisfied hum when he discovers you’re already dripping for him.

You’re still resisting, though it’s weak and feeble. The list of all the preparations you have to make for the barbecue still manage to just barely cut through your sleepy arousal. “We have so much to d—ahh~” You try to sound firm, but it just comes out as a breathy moan when he begins rubbing your swollen clit.

He uses his other hand to push up your shirt that’s actually his shirt, tracing small circles around your nipples with his rough fingertips. You try to push your hips into his hand in hopes to gain more friction, but his arms keep you locked in place.

“No need to rush. Let’s just enjoy this,” he insists, but the finger massaging your bud gets faster, knowing just how to make you whine after all the time he’s had to learn your body. He pinches one of your nipples between two fingers and squeezes with just enough force to make you gasp.

His erection has gotten even harder at the sound of your mewls and whimpers, hot and achingly hard against your ass and your cunt clenches in anticipation. Your slick is dripping out of you in thick, syrupy strings that makes your thighs sticky, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Please Toshi, need you,” you beg, desperate for your husband to stuff you full just as he’s done so many times before.

Wakatoshi doesn’t respond, opting to push his pants and underwear down to his knees and you almost sigh in relief, just needing to satisfy the desire that’s threatening to burn you from the inside out. You’re so hot you feel like you’re burning and you throw the comforter off of you to try to escape the heat. He removes the hand that was in your panties, instead using it to rub his hard length along your slick folds. You’re keening and so so needy, gasping each time the head catches on the tight ring of muscle around your entrance.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he grits out, barely able to control himself.

Your breath is coming in short, uneven pants as you try to sink yourself down onto him. “I love you so much I...”

That’s the moment when he sheaths his entire cock inside you in a singular fluid movement. You let out a strangled moan, relishing in the familiar burning as you stretch to accommodate how thick he is. Your pussy clamps down on him like a vice, molding perfectly around his length.

“It’s like you were made for me, made to take me,” Wakatoshi growls, sending another wave of arousal rippling through your body. He stays still for a moment, breathing deeply because he doesn’t want to cum and have this end so soon.

He starts moving his hips, thrusting slow and deep to reach the spongy spot inside you that makes you scream. The hand on your breast reaches around to grab your throat, stifling your moans into small, stuttering gasps. You whine each time he shoves himself deep inside you, his cock dragging deliciously against your spongy walls.

You stay like that for a while, bodies joined in the most intimate of ways as Wakatoshi moves his hips in leisurely, unhurried strokes. Your body is hot, sweaty, thrumming with the pleasure that’s so overwhelming all you can focus on is the intoxicating feeling of your husband’s cock deep inside you. The tightening in your core signals your impending orgasm, but each time you get close to the edge, it escapes your grasp over and over again. You need him to pound into you faster, harder. You need more.

“Toshi please, I-I need,” you manage to stammer out, but your words are stolen from your throat as he sharply thrusts as deep as he can, the tip of his cock smashing against your cervix with just the right amount of pressure.

“Don’t worry. I know just what you need.”

Wakatoshi is fucking you with so much force that your eyes are rolling back in your head, and all you can hear is the wet slapping sound each time he’s sucked back into your wet heat. He’s close, you can tell by the breathy groans he’s making, but so are you. You clench and spasm around him, growing impossibly tighter and bringing both of you closer to climax. His merciless pounding of your insides just gets faster and rougher, and his other hand moves down to rub your clit in tight, fast circles.

The pleasure that clouds your senses is overwhelming, just dancing on the edge between pleasure and pain and your body can’t take it anymore. Your vision goes white as you cum, cunt clamping down so hard Wakatoshi can barely move. You clamp a hand over your mouth to keep from screaming, your body shaking and trembling as you gush around him. The endless clenching of your muscles practically milks his orgasm out of him, a stifled groan leaving his lips as his thick, hot cum coats your insides. All you can do is moan softly in appreciation, too incoherent to say anything else.

Your husband presses a kiss to your sweaty neck. “Are you okay?” he asks, taking in the sight of your limp, spent body.

You haven’t caught your breath yet and your lips won’t form proper words, so you make the only noise you can, “Mmfmm.”

You whine as he slowly pulls out his softening length with an audible pop, sensitive cunt spasming at the slightest stimulation. He untangles himself from you and you want to reach out for him, but you’re too boneless to even attempt to do anything yet.

As Wakatoshi gets out of bed to get a warm washcloth, you hear the familiar sound of little footsteps making their way towards your room and you shoot up in bed, fully alert. You quickly pull the covers over your body, just in time for Hidetoshi to come bounding in.

“G’morning Mama! Where’s Daddy?” he wonders, his little head poking around the corner.

Your husband comes out of the bathroom, now fully dressed and washcloth in hand. “I’m right here, Hidetoshi.” The boy runs straight towards his father who picks him up effortlessly, swinging him around in the air as he squeals with delight. “Did you sleep well?”

Hide bobs his head enthusiastically, “Mhm! I had a dream I was a professional volleyball player just like you.”

Your loud, exaggerated sigh draws both sets of olive eyes to you, but you train your gaze on your husband. “Have you been putting ideas in his head?”

Wakatoshi shakes his head no, but the child in his arms pipes up first, “Daddy has been showing me videos of his old matches from when he was with the Schwimmy Addles.” Your husband makes a noise of surprise, a guilty look on his face now that he’s been found out.

“You two are going to be my undoing, I swear,” you chuckle as you flop back into the fluffy pillows.

Hide squirms in his father’s arms, reaching out to you, but the man recognizes the warning look in your eyes and tightens his arms around him. “We should let Mama finish waking up first. Why don’t we go downstairs and make breakfast?” he asks, tickling his sides.

The boy shrieks with laughter and wriggles even harder in Wakatoshi’s arms. “F-fine Daddy! Stooop it!” Your husband stops his tickling and hoists your son over his shoulder, gently patting his back.

He passes the washcloth to Hide. “Why don’t you give this to your mama? Then we can go have something to eat.”

Hide uses his little arms to hold the cloth out to you and you take it from him, nodding with gratitude. “Thank you sweetie, now go with your daddy.”

Your husband starts walking towards the door as a small, chubby hand waves bye to you and you blow kisses to them as they disappear into the hallway.

Using the washcloth, you clean the mess between your legs and muster the monumental effort it takes to get out of bed. You begrudgingly walk over to your dresser to put on clean pajamas and brush your hair so you’re presentable for a meal with your family. The sound of the fire alarm going off has you racing downstairs to the kitchen where Wakatoshi and your son should be.

As you slide into the kitchen and almost fall on the slippery hardwood in your haste, you realize your panic was for nothing. There’s a pan on the stove, grey smoke billowing out of it. Upon further inspection you discern that it’s eggs, you think, that are simultaneously under and overcooked. The guilty parties are sitting at the kitchen table a few feet away, a jug of milk and a couple of boxes of cereal surrounding them. Hide is shoveling spoonfuls of Cheerios into his mouth as your husband eats his own breakfast, only slightly neater in his approach.

“So… you tried to cook?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow at the large man chewing his Wheat Chex. He looks over at you and nods, mouth full with milk and cereal. “I’m guessing it didn’t go very well, judging by all the smoke,” you say slowly. Your husband simply shakes his head no, unbothered by the fact that he nearly gave you a heart attack.

Deciding it’s not worth the argument or the work to make a proper breakfast, you sit down next to Hide and pour yourself a bowl of Cheerios. He smiles at you, mouth open and full of disgusting half-chewed food, but you still return his beaming grin and ruffle his hair. The both of them are troublemakers in their own ways, but they’re your troublemakers nonetheless.

After you’ve all eaten breakfast, you lay a notepad in front of them that has a list of all the things you have to do before your guests arrive for the barbecue.

You’re standing between them, pointing at each task on the list. “I still have to sweep and vacuum the house, Toshi you need to go to the store and buy all the food, and Hide you need to pick up all your toys that are in the backyard. We have a lot to do today and everyone has to do their part, okay?” you urge, looking between the males on either side of you and they both nod emphatically.

With everyone so busy, it’s difficult to find weekends where they’re all available so this get together has been planned for months. You’ll all be seeing friends and loved ones you haven’t seen in a long time, and it’s a team effort to make sure everything is ready for tonight.

----

You finish all of the tasks on time, with an hour to spare thanks to your joint efforts.

Hide is playing in his room while you and your husband get dressed and ready for what will likely be a long night of socializing and entertaining.

As you’re doing your makeup and getting ready for the party, you notice Wakatoshi staring at himself in the mirror, shirtless. His brows are furrowed, a deep frown on his face as he scrutinizes his reflection. He pinches his belly with both hands, scowling at the softness that used to be hard muscle. Tracing a finger along the stretch marks on his stomach and arms, he sighs heavily.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” you ask from the bathroom.

Your husband walks over to lean against the wall behind you, his unreadable expression reflected in the bathroom mirror. He hesitates before answering, “I’ve let myself go.”

You set your mascara down on the counter and spin around to face him. “Wakatoshi, what in the world are you talking about?”

“I just said what. I heard a couple of my players say that I’m not as strong or as fast as I was when I was a professional.”

You loosely wrap your arms around his torso, squeezing gently. “Of course you’re not what you used to be, Toshi.” At the sight of his deepening frown you quickly add, “You’re so busy being a father, husband, and coach you don’t have the time to work out like you used to.” Getting on your tippy toes, you press a kiss to his nose, “And that’s okay.” It’s a rare occasion that he looks this vulnerable. His anxiety and self-consciousness are so clearly written in his features and it makes your heart ache for him.

“It doesn’t bother you that I don’t look like that anymore?” he asks, pointing at the framed photo of his first win with the Japan National Team that hangs on the wall.

“Why would it bother me? This is the body races my son across our backyard, helps me fix our home we bought together, and makes love to me every night. I love you just as much as I did back then, and even more now that we have Hide,” you reassure him and you mean every word of it. Sure he’s not the most romantic of husbands, but he’s your husband and you love him just the way he is, with or without muscles.

A smile tugs at the corners of his lips and he squeezes you even tighter to him. “I know I probably don’t say this as much as I should, but I love you.”

You pepper kisses all over his eyelids, lips and nose. “And I love you more than anything, Wakatoshi. More than you will ever know.”

Your hands lovingly caress his chest that’s softer now, but still sturdy and muscular, and his arms that are not as lean anymore, but are still just as powerful and capable. “For the record, I love how soft you are these days. It’s great cushioning for when we cuddle.”

“Hidetoshi says the same thing,” he recalls, smiling at the thought of your beloved son.

After giving him a knowing look, you go back to putting on your makeup. “See? I told you. That boy is just as smart as his mother.”

It’s nearing five o’clock so Wakatoshi goes to the backyard to start grilling the food for everyone, while you and Hide finish plating the fruits and vegetables you prepared earlier.

You work in comfortable silence until your son turns to you, his eyes shining with unanswered questions. “Hey Mama?”

Putting down the strawberry you were holding, you sit down on the stool next to him and hold his hands in yours. “What’s on your mind, sweetie?”

“Do you not want me to be a volleyball player like Daddy? Is that why you got mad when I told you he showed me the videos?”

You almost break your neck with how fast you shake your head in denial. “Of course not! I wasn’t mad, it’s just…” you start, trying to find a way to phrase your thoughts that he’ll understand. “Daddy’s job was very hard. His body still hurts a lot from all the times he got injured when he played volleyball. And… his job took him away from me and I missed him a whole lot.”

The look on his face is so reminiscent of his father, it’s like young Wakatoshi was frozen in time and plopped into the chair right next to you. With the way his eyebrows are scrunched up and his mouth is downturned as he thinks, he really is the spitting image of your husband. “Did it make you sad?”

Taking a deep breath, you hold your arms out to him so he can climb into your lap. “Sometimes it did. Mostly at night when I was all alone and Daddy was really far away.”

He rests his head against your shoulder, looking up at you. “Do you wish Daddy had a different job?”

You look out the window at your husband who’s starting up the grill, then look back at the sweet, round face of your boy. “No, I don’t. Daddy’s job was really important to him and it made him so happy that I grew to love it too, even if it made me sad sometimes.”

He sits up in your lap, thinking hard about what you said as he plays with your necklace. “Does Daddy still wish he could do it?”

“Probably, but it’s okay. If he hadn’t stopped, we wouldn’t have you, and you make our lives so much brighter and happier. Your Daddy and I love you so much, you couldn’t even imagine it.”

He spreads his arms out as far as he can. “This much?”

You shake your head. “Nope. Even more.”

“Wow, that’s a lot.” Hide’s eyes are wide with surprise, mouth slightly agape as he tries to imagine something so large and vast.

Laughing, you press a kiss to his head. “It sure is a lot, baby. Now why don’t we finish putting out all the food so we can go see what Daddy’s doing?”

Your son leaps out of your lap to grab handfuls of grapes and blueberries from the cartons on the counter, dropping them into the divided sections of the serving platter. “Aren’t you going to help me, Mama?”

You give him a look of mock offense before standing ramrod straight, giving him a mock salute. “As you command, Commander Ushijima.”

You carry both trays of food out to the backyard, not trusting Hide’s ability to hold them upright, while he carries a volleyball in his arms. Wakatoshi turns at the sound of footsteps, a small smile on his face as your son drops the volleyball, barreling straight into his legs with a force that makes the man grunt.

Hide looks up at his father, both arms wrapped around his legs. “Whatcha doing Daddy?” he asks.

Your husband reaches a hand down to ruffle his hair, a slight look of pain in his eyes from the boy slamming into his shins. “I’m just getting ready to start cooking the food for tonight. Do you want to help me?” He bends down to pick him up and Hide quickly hops into his arms, well practiced and effortless with how strong your husband is. The man points to different parts of the grill, explaining what they do, taking care to keep the boy far away from the flames.

Setting the plates down on the table, you inform Wakatoshi, “Hajime and Tooru should be here soon, so should Tobio and Eita. Satori called and said he might be late, something about his luggage getting lost.” At that moment the doorbell rings, signaling your first guests are here. “I’ll get it. You two stay here and get the food on the grill.”

You open the front door, greeted with the familiar faces of Hajime and Tooru. “It’s so nice to see you two! Come on inside, don’t be shy,” stepping aside, you hold your arm out to welcome them into your home.

“Mrs. Ushijima you get more and more beautiful each time I see you,” Tooru teases as you snicker in response.

“I see marriage hasn’t changed you at all, has it?” you question, more so directed at Hajime.

“I tell him people are going to get the wrong idea,” the shorter man replies, sounding exasperated.

You usher them towards the backyard before picking up various soda and beer cans. “Wakatoshi and Hide are both in the back. You two go ahead and keep them company while I bring these out.”

It takes a few trips before you join them in the backyard, handing each adult a can and a juice pouch to Hide, who’s sitting at the picnic table with Tooru while Hajime chats with your husband.

“How old are you now, little man?” the brunette asks.

Hide holds up five fingers plus his thumb as he swings his legs back and forth. “I’m six! I just started kindergarten.”

They both wave at you as you join them, sitting on the other side of the table. Tooru leans in towards you, a hand cupped around his mouth, and you tilt your ear towards him. “He’s so… polite and well-mannered. Are you sure Ushiwaka is the father?” he whispers, narrowing his eyes.

You lightly smack his head, glaring daggers in his direction. “Yes, obviously. Look at them, they’re basically twins.” Tooru looks at the boy sitting next to him then at your husband standing at the grill, then back to your son, then back to your husband. Hand on his chin, he takes in their matching olive eyes and hair and similar expressions, nodding seriously.

“I was just making sure.”

The doorbell rings a couple more times, Tobio and Eita arriving one right after the other. With almost all of your guests present, everyone is drinking and catching up, some casually passing a volleyball back and forth with Hide.

You’re in the middle of telling Tobio that Hidetoshi is too young to be thinking about his future career when the doorbell rings once more, indicating the last of your guests has arrived. You rush inside to get it, not bothering to check who’s there because you already know who it is. Swinging the door open, you pull the man into a tight hug.

“Satori! We’re so glad you made it,” you exclaim, giving his back a few hard slaps.

The redhead pulls away from you, smiling. “I’m so glad I was able to make it in time. The airport lost my luggage, then my parents forgot to leave me a key to their house so I had to wait until a neighbor could let me in. To make matters worse, I got stopped by security when I landed because of this,” he says, holding up a white box with a bow around it.

You quickly grab the box, shaking it to try to hear what’s inside and sniffing it for good measure. “Ooh la la, did you bring us some fancy French chocolates?” you ask. “Actually, don’t tell me, Hide will want to open it.” You hand the box back to him and gesture him to follow you, “Everyone’s in the back so just follow me.”

With Satori in tow, you step onto the back porch and call your son’s name. He hands the ball to Eita before running over, eyes lighting up when he sees the man standing next to you.

“Uncle Tori!” he shouts, launching himself into Satori’s arms.

“Hey there Little Toshi, how you been? Keeping your dad out of trouble?” he asks, hugging the boy tightly.

“I think so! Well… we burnt some eggs this morning and the smoke machines started beeping, but that doesn’t count, right?”

The red-haired man waves his hand dismissively. “Of course it doesn’t. Any crimes committed in the name of breakfast are excused,” he insists. Pulling the box out from behind his back, he offers it to Hide. “I brought you something all the way from France, do you know where France is?”

Hide takes the present from him, “Yeah, it’s in Europe! Daddy showed it to me on a map.” He struggles a bit with the bow before he decides to just rip it off, lifting up the lid.

Satori points to the various chocolates laid on top of wax paper. “This one is filled with something called ‘ganache,’ which is basically just more chocolate, but it’s liquidy. That one over there has caramel, and the one right next to it is a bonbon filled with strawberry jelly. I picked all the best ones just for you.”

The boy smiles, eyes wandering over the chocolates like they’re bars of gold. “Thank you Uncle Tori! I bet they’re really yummy.”

He pats Hide on the head. “I hope you enjoy them lots. Now I gotta go say hi to your daddy, where is he?” Your son points to where Wakatoshi is standing at the grill, a spatula in one hand and a beer in the other as he chats with Tobio. “Thanks Little Toshi,” he says, ruffling his hair.

Satori walks over to your husband, pulling him into a crushing bear hug before he can say anything. “Wakatoshi, it’s been too long! I sure get lonely all the way in France, have you guys ever thought about moving?”

Wakatoshi freezes for a moment before giving in, hugging the man back, though slightly stiff in his movements. “We will not be moving to France. Hidetoshi will be raised here in Japan.”

The redhead releases him, sensing his discomfort. “Well, it was worth a shot. How’s your retirement? You miss being a pro?”

“I do miss it sometimes, but it was necessary to let a better, younger player take my place. I wouldn’t trade a few more years on the court for the life I have now with my wife and my son.”

Satori lets out a loud whistle. “I never thought I would hear the day that Wakatoshi Ushijima would say he cares about anything more than volleyball.”

“Volleyball was my entire life before, but they’re my entire world.”

The shorter man just smiles, silent for a moment before pointing to the apron your husband is wearing. “I didn’t think you’d actually wear that thing, Wakatoshi!” The apron black with bright red lettering that says ‘Wakatoshi: Grill Master,’ with a drawing of a flaming steak next to it.

“It keeps my clothes clean. Why wouldn’t I wear it?” he asks, genuinely curious. The redhead just laughs and shakes his head, patting him on the shoulder.

Your husband finishes grilling the food, much to the excitement and relief of the many hungry men who have been circling him like a hawk. Everyone takes from the piles of meat and vegetables, noticeably happier now that their stomachs are full. You’re all sitting around the picnic table, laughing and enjoying each other’s company.

Hajime recalls a story from when he first signed on as the athletic trainer for the national team. Wakatoshi had approached him after practice, saying he had a serious issue that he wanted someone to take a look at. Concerned for his player’s wellbeing, naturally he took him into the locker room and Wakatoshi took off his shirt. At first, he thought he might’ve stretched one of his ligaments too far or had even torn his rotator cuff muscle. Imagine his surprise when Wakatoshi pointed to an ingrown hair on his back, saying it was inflamed and causing him pain. It was then that Hajime had to explain that he’s not that type of medical professional, and that he should make an appointment with a dermatologist.

The sun starts to set, but with the fun everyone is having they barely notice. The night begins to wind down once Hide yawns, rubbing his eyes tiredly, and it sets off a chain reaction of yawning that reaches every person at the table. Your son starts tugging on your sleeve, informing you he’d like to go to bed. Not wanting to leave him alone in the house and taking note of the exhaustion on everyone’s faces, you politely suggest to end the night early. A chorus of heads bob, indicating their desire to head home and sleep.

All three of you hug and kiss everyone goodbye, waving to them as they drive away. You sigh from exhaustion and head inside to put Hide in bed. You and your husband hold each of his hands and take him to his room, pulling back his covers so he can climb in.

He yawns again and closes his eyes, settling into his bed. “Night night Mama, Daddy. I love you.”

You stroke his cheek lovingly before placing a kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight sweetie, I love you too.”

Your husband comes up from behind you to kiss Hide as well. “Sleep well, Hidetoshi. I love you.”

With your son asleep in his own bed, all you have to do is take off your makeup and brush your teeth before you too can sleep.

You’re in the middle of washing your face when Wakatoshi comes into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

“I enjoyed tonight, I hope you did too,” he says.

You turn around to look at him and smile. “I did, it was amazing to see everyone in one place. It’s been years since we were all able to see each other.” After you finish washing your face, you stretch and yawn loudly, telling your husband, “I’m getting in bed now, join me when you’re done.”

Climbing under the sheets, you nestle yourself into the softness of your bed. You nearly doze off right then, but the shifting of the bed under Wakatoshi’s weight keeps you awake just a bit longer.

He slides in behind you so he can spoon you, an arm slung over your waist.

“Goodnight Toshi, I love you.”

“Goodnight, I love you too.”

Before he falls asleep, Wakatoshi thinks of all the things in his life that led him here, to you, his wonderful wife, and his precious son.

Leaving professional volleyball was one of the hardest decisions he’s ever had to make in his thirty-seven years of living, but the end of that chapter of his life gave him Hidetoshi.

He knows that every moment of uncertainty, suffering, and hardship was worth it because it ultimately led him to you and your son, to this life you’ve built together.

He’d do it all over again a thousand times over if it meant that your beautiful, shining face would be there to greet him in the end.

#ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima x reader #ushijima x you #hq smut #hq fanfic #reader insert #hq reader insert #hq imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #ushijima smut #bunny scribbles

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galactic-magick · 3 years

Text

As Long As I’m With You: Agnes/Agatha Harkness x Reader

Request: Hi, can you please do where Agnes (a villain) saves fem reader's life because she has feelings for her? In the end they end up together // also took some ideas from this request

Summary: You’re accused of witchcraft in your village, and a mysterious beautiful witch comes to your aid.

Words: 2200+

Warnings: fem reader, Agatha is low key evil so she hurts some people, a swear word, reader has an angsty past

Author’s Notes: This can be read as either a standalone fic or as a prequel to my other fic “Spell Practice.” I took quite a lot of creative liberty with this, hopefully that’s alright. Also disclaimer I am in no way a history expert so even though this is set in like the 1500s-1600s it’s probably very inaccurate, but it’s fanfic so anything goes right?

Taglist: @nyx-aira @midnight-lestrange @thestrangeundoing @thegayances @sleep-deprived-athlete @dr-robotnik-said-hella @fallingfor-fics @p-nymph @thelanawinterrs @sunproud (if your tag didn’t work it might be bc your blog isn’t searchable so make sure that’s on so you’re notified of future fics!)

You had no idea how much your life would change when you left your house that day.

It started out with a simple run to the market and the garden to get what you needed for supper that night, a job that almost always falls to you. You don’t necessarily mind getting away from your family and talking to some people in town, but it’s clear that your family doesn’t want you in the house as much as possible either.

It’s gotten to the point where they’re just looking for a reason to get rid of you. You’re a disappointment, after all. You refuse to marry in order to help your family’s status, even though you’ve gotten a couple offers. You counter your parent’s rules and ideas every chance you get, no matter how much they tell you you’re crazy. They belittle you constantly, saying your dreams are worth nothing and you’ll have to be dependent on them forever if you never submit to the role in society you’re supposed to.

Obviously bullying you out of their lives wasn’t working, so they’ve moved on to spreading rumors about you and setting you up for crimes. None have worked yet, of course, but every day you fear they’ll get too close.

Until you get burned at the stake, though, they’ve given you basically every responsibility of the house. You do all the shopping, cooking, and farming, as well as taking care of your younger siblings. You wonder what they’d do without you, despite how much they seem to want you gone.

As you’re buying a few crops and eggs from your neighbors, you swear you see something move. You turn around and see a little boy floating in the air, screaming.

You drop everything in your arms and reach up to him, trying to grab him and help him down, but he keeps flailing, and his screams start to feel directed at you.

“Hey! It’s okay! Let me help you!” you hold your hand up, speaking as calmly as you can. “I’m not going to hurt you,”

“WITCH!” a man yells as he sees you. “SHE’S A WITCH!”

Everyone around turns and watches you.

“No! No! I’m not the one doing this! I’m trying to help!”

“Let him down and maybe we’ll wait to kill you til tomorrow!” someone else demands.

A couple people march towards you to grab you, and all you can think to do is start running.

You race out of the center of town into the trees, and about five men chase after you. You keep going until it feels like your legs are going to give out and you can barely breathe, but they keep coming.

“Please! Please stop! It wasn’t me I swear!” you cry. “I don’t know what was happening!”

“Shut up, girl,” one grunts. “Your father always said there was something wrong with you, makes sense that you’re a witch!”

“What’s so wrong about witches?” a female voice calls.

You and the men spin around, trying to figure out where it came from.

Before you can blink there’s purple smoke surrounding you, and the men are thrown against the trees. They’re knocked unconscious instantly, but you remain standing and untouched.

“Who are you?” you ask, your voice quivering.

“Don’t be afraid, my dear,” the smoke starts to fade and you can make out her silhouette, then eventually her face. “I’m here to help you,”

She’s beautiful. You’ve never seen someone that immediately feels so friendly, so different in all the best ways.

“It’s alright to stare, I know I’m quite a sight,” she laughs. “I’m Agatha,”

“I’m Y/N,”

“Ah, yes, I’m pretty sure I’ve heard of you,” she smiles. “Everyone in the village can barely stand you,”

“Thanks…?” you’re not sure how to respond, especially after all that just happened. “Wait, if you live in my village, why have I never seen you? And how come you’ve never gotten caught using magic?”

“Memory spells, of course,” she shrugs. “Now, let’s get you somewhere safe, alright?”

You nod, and she wraps an arm around you. She takes you deep into the forest until you reach a small house, the glimmer of the fire peering through the windows.

You settle down on a chair while she makes some tea and food. She offers you a blanket and hands you the cup and plate, sitting down across from you.

“So how long have you been practicing magic?” she asks.

“Oh…I…well actually I don’t know how to use any magic,”

“Really? Why were the witch hunters after you then?”

“I was set up, I think,” you say. “There was a little boy floating in the air, and since I was near him they thought it was me. But I wasn’t doing anything,”

“Well,” Agatha sips her tea. “Sometimes magic can manifest itself subconsciously. Maybe you were doing it but didn’t realize it. It’s quite common,”

“But…how would I have magical powers? I’ve never learned it from anywhere,”

“Some people are just born with the gift,” she grins.

You exhale, thinking over what she said. Could it be true? You’ve been a witch all your life without even knowing it?

That night, Agatha conjures another bed for you to sleep in. But even though she made it as comfortable as she possibly could, you can’t get a wink of sleep.

You lift off the blanket and wrap it tightly around you, getting up slowly and quietly. You walk outside and sit against a tree, looking up at the stars.

You’re sure your family has heard the news by now. Their disappointment of a daughter is finally gone, accused of witchcraft. It seems that the foreseeable future will be spent with Agatha, the only safe person you have.

You wonder just how much she already knows about you. She mentioned she’s heard people gossiping about you all the time in town, yet she still saved you after hearing all those negative things.

Why is that?

“Can’t sleep?”

You jump at her voice, and she chuckles a bit at your reaction.

“Sorry,” you sigh. “I just have a lot to think about from today, I guess,”

“No worries,” she sits down beside you. “So do I,”

“Agatha,” you say. “Why did you save me?”

“Us witches have to stick together. I saw you were in trouble, so I saved you,”

“But you knew, didn’t you? You’ve known I was a witch long before this, didn’t you?”

“I had my suspicions,” she agrees. “Whenever I heard people talk about you, I figured you weren’t like everyone else. But I didn’t know for sure until today,”

“I wish you had taken me before,” you huff, a few tears falling down your cheeks. “It’s been so bad, Agatha, feeling worthless just because you’re different, everyone hates you…”

She pulls you into her shoulder, letting you cry into it, “I know, dear, I know,”

It takes you a while to come to terms with your potential powers, but as soon as you’re ready Agatha begins to teach you how to use them. You spend your days studying her spell books and practicing simple spells, most of which you fail at.

She encourages you as much as possible, explaining to you that magic is not something you can learn overnight, sometimes not even over years. She tells you that she’s actually thousands of years old (a surprise to you due to her stunning looks) and she’s been practicing for much of that time, and there’s still some spells she hasn’t mastered.

Your impatience still gets the better of you most days, though. You can’t imagine waiting several centuries to get something to work, if you get it to work at all.

One day you’re sitting at the table, trying out a simple transfiguration spell. You wave your hand repeatedly at a potato, hoping to turn it into an apple. It doesn’t even wobble, not even a single spark, but you’ve been sitting here for hours and don’t want to give up just yet.

You nearly fall asleep from exhaustion when all of a sudden it happens. It works.

There’s an apple in front of you. Not a potato, an apple.

“Holy shit!” you scream. “Agatha! I did it!”

You run over to her and point at your small accomplishment.

“Look at you go, darling!” she smiles, hugging you. “At this rate you’ll be changing rocks into cats before you’re 200!”

You laugh, “Oh come on, this is literally just one of the beginner spells,”

“So what? That’s where everybody starts,”

You break out in giddy excitement again, jumping up and down a bit and looking back and forth just to make sure your creation is still there.

Without thinking, you kiss Agatha quickly on the lips.

She stares at you, mouth open.

Before you can apologize, she grabs your face and kisses you hard. She’s everything you’d imagined and more, soft and warm but with a spark you can’t ignore.

When you finally break apart, her hands linger, brushing across your features and in your hair, “I’ve been waiting to do that,”

Things change after that, but in only the best ways.

Agatha isn’t just your mentor anymore, the only friend who came to your aid.

She’s your everything now, a soulmate, your home.

You tell her all about your life, and she tells you all about hers. As she has significantly more stories to tell, you’ll fall asleep many nights to her whispering all the legends she lived through that no one else knows are true.

She makes you laugh every day, and makes sure you always know how much she cares about you. There’s only so much you can do in your hidden home in the woods, but with magic the possibilities are endless and she’s never short of romantic ideas.

Tonight you find yourself lying your head in her lap while she plays with your hair, close to the fire so you can watch the little shows she creates with the flames.

“What about love?” you ask.

“What about it?”

“Out of all the stories you’ve told me, you’ve never mentioned being in love before,”

“Well,” she sighs. “That’s because I haven’t been,”

“Why not?”

“It’s just never appealed to me,” she says. “Until I met you,”

“Oh,” you grin, looking up at her.

She leans down to kiss you, but you’re broken apart by a loud noise outside.

You shoot up, looking at Agatha in pure panic. Your heart races as the noise gets louder and louder, eventually leading to shouting and knocks at the door.

“WE FOUND YOU!” a booming voice yells.

“Aggie?” you whisper. Everything crumbles around you. Your perfect, happy life, now about to be stolen from you. You have no idea how they found you, if you are about to be dead, if you’ll be able to defend yourself at all.

She kisses you and stands up, “Stay here. I’ll take care of it,”

With a fling of her fingers the door flies open, and the torches the townspeople are holding are burnt out. She smirks, purple smoke covering the area as she goes through them one by one, some just throwing to the side and others suffering a painful death.

She turns their own weapons against them, their own people against them, and makes them regret everything they’ve ever done.

When she returns to you, you’re still in so much shock and panic you couldn’t tell exactly what she was doing.

“Did you…kill all of them?”

“They got what they deserved for threatening us,” she says nonchalantly. “But we’re not safe here anymore. It’s time to find somewhere new,”

“Okay,” you nod as she pulls you against her. “As long as I’m with you,”

“I’ll always protect you, even when you learn enough to protect yourself,” she kisses your forehead. “Always and forever,”

APPROXIMATELY FOUR CENTURIES LATER

“I’m back, darling!” Agatha calls, shutting the door behind her.

“How’d it go?” you run to her, grabbing her hands.

“Splendid, that poor Wanda already loves her new neighbor!”

“Wow,” you giggle. “You know I must say, this whole living in a sitcom thing isn’t that bad, you look gorgeous in that 50s dress,”

“Oh darling, somehow after all this time you still flatter me,” she pretends to fan herself. “I have to go back over real quick, alright? Gotta give her this spicy magazine,” she holds her hand up in the air and magically forms one in her grasp.

“Ah! Be sure to get some ideas to use on me when you get back,” she laugh.

“Oh I will honey,” she winks, kissing you before going out the door.

You settle on the couch, looking around at your home. Out of all the places you’ve moved to together, this was by far the weirdest. There’s no color, and everyone besides you and Agatha and Wanda are under some kind of mind control.

You never imagined that day all those years ago would bring you here, spending your life with a beautiful witch and being her partner in all things, even sinister ones. But you wouldn’t have it any other way, and you know this strange town will only bring you more opportunities to practice your magic and help Agatha with her plans.

#agatha harkness #wandavision #agatha harkness x reader #agnes x reader #wandavision spoilers #wandavision x reader

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wonlouvre · 3 years

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pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and future angst word count: 4.1k WARNINGS: orphanage, mentions of abandonment and lost of parents

author’s note: just a little filler chapter as we continue reading on the progress of their relationship! thank you so much for waiting! i hope you enjoy reading

six: hustle and bustle | masterlist

When Wonwoo went to college, he moved out from the Royal Residences and rented an apartment with Soonyoung and two other friends of different majors. That period of his life where he was swamped with school works and other official duties, had given him the smallest of chances to go home and sleep for more than two nights in the bedroom he had since he was a teen. From then on, he managed to handle most of his activities on his own. He was assigned a staff that would help him navigate through his busy lifestyle and that was about it.

Their Majesties were not bothered at all by their son’s independence although, oftentimes they felt terrible because of how busy they were, they lacked the time to spend with their only child.

It was a challenge for the Royal Family to apply the definition of “family” in their own context, but in the end, they made it work. The kingdom was flourishing meanwhile the family is loved and supported more than ever.

Their Majesties knew of their son’s wishes to marry his past girlfriend and they were more than ready to support him. But then again, he was young and when they heard their decision to go their separate ways, they were also there, ready as they will ever be, to support him.

Wonwoo wasn’t impatient to find love again. Most especially when he landed a job at the Royal Hospital of the neighboring kingdom. If he was driven to excel as a student, he was more than driven to be the best that he can be when he worked full-time.

Occasionally, your arrangement with him crosses his mind. He likes you. He really does. He likes how you message or call him. He likes how you smile and talk to him. He likes seeing you and having you around. And just recently, he likes holding and kissing you.

He’s just worried that maybe because of this whole arranged marriage thing, the two of you are moving too fast. Or that maybe, this is just an infatuation that may vanish anytime soon.

He doesn’t know why he’s thinking of such thoughts so early in the morning when you’re here with him but he can’t help it.

Wonwoo was the first one to wake up and the sight of your back greeted him. An elated smile is drawn on his face when he remembers the night before. He still remembers the feel of your lips and breath against his. It makes him wonder if he’d get to feel them again today. He yawns and reaches his hand out to your back, gently running it against the t-shirt you borrowed from him. A low chuckle then escapes his lips as he tries to figure out how you even got on the edge of his bed when he clearly remembers how he locked you in his arms last night.

After a moment of just listlessly playing with your hair and back, he finally scoots over and completely wraps his arm around your waist. He tugs you close to the middle because he’s sure one more movement in the wrong direction, you’re going to fall over.

His action caused you to wake up. Wonwoo meets your bleary eyes and he’s immediately apologizing with a guilty grin.

“Sorry. You can go back to sleep,” he says and fixes the hairs that’s covering your face.

You sigh and close your eyes again before sinking further back on the pillow. “What time is it?”

“I don’t know either,” he answers sheepishly. “But, it’s early. Too early to leave the bed.”

You give him a look of disbelief before pulling yourself up, much to his dismay. A few stretches of your neck and arms helped get rid of your drowsiness. As you stand up to go to the bathroom, the Prince remains sprawled out on the bed with arms now behind his neck, just watching you fondly.

“Have you been awake all this time?” You ask while gathering your dress from the rack, contemplating if you should wear it again instead of being seen with the Prince’s clothes. “You looked like you’ve been creepily staring at me.”

Wonwoo scoffs at your remark and finally stands and follows to where you are. He finds you standing in front of the sink and fixing your hair. With crossed arms, he leans his broad shoulder against the doorframe. His mind goes blank again with thoughts filled by you only.

“You didn’t deny it,” you say and pick up the toothbrush you used last night. “And you’re doing it again.”

Wonwoo snaps out of it and rolls his eyes. “I think you’re liking it though.”

You tried to fight against his claims but your mouth was muffled by the foam of the toothpaste. Wonwoo laughs at your struggle and walks towards the sink as well to mirror what you’re doing. Your playful glare was returned by Wonwoo with a wink. You fake a disgusted gag and the two of you just laugh altogether.

Wonwoo’s concerns earlier were thrown out the window the moment his eyes saw your smile and ears heard your laughter. He’s confident on how his heart fluttered at the thought of sharing every morning like this with you. A few banters or bickering here and there but if it ends up with a warm hug and breathtaking kiss then he won’t complain.

“I have to go back to my room,” you say as you wipe your face with a towel. “For real this time.”

Wonwoo pouts and holds your waist. “I told you it’s still early.”

“Wonwoo, it’s already seven thirty in the morning,” you tell him after giving the clock on the wall a quick glance.

Wonwoo doesn’t relent and wraps his arms around you. “And? Don’t people sleep in while they’re on vacation?”

“Let’s just meet at breakfast,” you dodge his question and untangle his arms from your body, to which he protests against. “Wonwoo.”

He doesn’t let you go as you walk towards the door. You’re dragging a six foot tall baby giant and you don’t even know if you can actually reach the door at this rate.

“Let go.”

“No.”

“Wonwoo, please—”

“Aha!” The door suddenly opens and to your dread, it’s the Queen. “I knew I’d find you here!”

What ensued in the early hours of the morning is something you wish to not be spoken about as you and Wonwoo carried on with breakfast. The Prince still insists that he locked his door and you are a witness of that, in spite of getting lost in each other’s heated kisses last night. But then again, his mother is the Queen and it’s no question that she’d have keys to every single room of the Royal Residences.

Plus, Her Majesty was more than pleased to see the two of you getting along so well that you even share a room and bed together. You apologized profusely at the breakfast table but all you remember is her dropping it by saying how welcome you are to stay at Wonwoo’s bedroom from now on and if you wish, she’ll have your luggage moved right this instant.

Wonwoo was embarrassed, but he doesn’t disagree with his mother’s suggestion. He knows she’s joking so he played along even though it earned him a painful pinching on his thigh under the table.

His Majesty already left by seven sharp for his scheduled meeting with the cabinet members hence the absence at breakfast.

After a hearty breakfast and relentless teasing, you and Wonwoo proceed with the agenda for the day. The Queen gave a short briefing on what the day has in store for the two of you. She regretfully informs you on how long and tiring it might get, but assured you that it will be only for today and afterwards the two of you can have the freedom to explore and do whatever you want for the coming days.

You and Wonwoo have had similar busy days even before you got engaged so this is something you’re already used to. It’s just that this time it’s a different load because you’re doing it together as a couple. You must say it’s nerve wracking, but Wonwoo is here and he will be with you every step of the way.

The Queen excused herself a little while later, leaving you and Wonwoo remained seated to wait for the staff to finish preparations for your departure.

As you look around the pristine garden, Wonwoo catches you by surprise with a kiss on your shoulder. You could barely feel it from the button up you’re wearing, but let him be nonetheless. He leans his forehead on said shoulder and you do the same to the top of his head.

“Still sleepy?” You ask and you can feel him nod.

“I can already see myself falling asleep in the car.”

You snort at his dramatics and lightly tap his cheek.

Wonwoo then abruptly lifts his head up and juts his lips in a pout. “We should have slept in.”

“Her Majesty will not hesitate to wake us up,” you remind him while shaking your head and rolling your eyes.

“No she won’t!” He insists and holds your hand. “She’d think “poor babies, I should let them sleep.””

You let out an uncontrollable giggle. “That’s not how it works Wonwoo. For one, we’re literal adults in adult bodies and second, we can’t escape this whether we like it or not.”

Wonwoo couldn’t argue with you anymore so he opted to narrow his eyes at you instead. He attempted but Jeongyeon’s arrival cut him off. She happily announces that the car is already at the front and that you’re good to go. Wonwoo mumbles “we’ll talk about this later” to you when he stands up and takes your hand.

You just nod your head to let the baby in him win.

Timely enough, Wonwoo’s alma mater is celebrating its founding anniversary and they invited the “Royal Couple” - as they call the two of you these days - to say a few words of motivation to the student body, most especially those who are about to graduate.

It was only supposed to be Wonwoo, but when the news of you joining the Prince for his homecoming spread, they didn’t think twice to invite you as well. You were more than okay to just let Wonwoo do his thing and watch from the sidelines or through a livestream, but you considered that it’s only right and polite to introduce yourself properly to your future husband’s people.

So far, the people from yours and his have been very welcoming and supportive of your union. However, you can’t be complacent because a minor slip up by public figures like the two of you will not be tolerated by the people who have the potential to be cruel.

The university’s biggest auditorium was booming and vibrating from the loud cheers and claps of every student and school official present when your arrival was announced. Men and women alike cheered specifically for their Prince and senior who returned the enthusiasm welcome with a strong wave and bright smile.

You do the same beside him until you both reach the designated chairs near the stage. A bouquet of flowers was presented for you by some students to which you gladly accept. Wonwoo keeps your hand clasped with his, only letting go to shake hands with his previous professors.

Shortly after, the crowd quiets down and the president of the university stands at the podium and officially opens the program.

You’re nervous. That’s the least you can say out of all the emotions that’s running through you at the moment. You think you look awfully awkward and stiff with your posture and you’re afraid that this could be on the front page of every newspaper the next morning. Your appearance should be the least of your worries right now, but you can’t help but feel conscious.

Wonwoo must have noticed because he took hold of your hand that’s placed on the arm rest, giving it gentle squeezes and a quick kiss. This is him letting you know that he’s right here and that you’re okay. You didn’t even notice that you’ve been holding your breath all this time. You exhale and squeeze his hand back. It makes you wonder if he felt as nervous as you are now when he made similar appearances back at your kingdom.

“Thank you, your Highness, for accepting our invitation,” the dean of the Medical and Health Sciences department, who took the microphone after the president’s opening, says and claps at your direction.

You and Wonwoo stand up to wave once again to the clapping crowd, their energy not dying anytime soon.

Wonwoo is then invited to go up the stage to grace the students who have been waiting to hear his voice since the program started. He takes the microphone from the dean after he shakes his hand.

“The last time I was here, I was about to graduate,” he starts and the expecting crowd listens. “I was younger and you know, really excited and relieved that school is finally over and I’m free!”

The students laugh and so do you.

Wonwoo continues, “It didn’t cross my mind that I’ll be standing here again and be embraced by your kindness. I will make this short as I’m sure that you’d much rather prefer the festivities outside instead of being here,” he tries to humor and the students disagree with him.

“The people first,” he emphasizes and points his forefinger up, “As someone who is delegated to do various activities responsibly, I do it not for my image or the cabinet or even my family. I do it because of the people, because of you,” he says and gestures his hand to them.

“Likewise, as a doctor, I do my job responsibly with the people I’m serving in mind. I do it for their well-being, safety and overall survival. That’s my purpose and I hope that as you have yours, you remember to be selfless because that’s what we need the most. I congratulate you in advance, for those who have only started and for those who are about to cross the finish line. Congratulations because I know and I believe that you’ll do well and even better. Just hang in there a little bit more and take breaks if you need to. I hope to see you around someday, wherever it may be.”

You don’t know if it’s your imagination playing tricks on you, but Wonwoo seems to be dashing and blinding as ever. The way he stood and spoke gracefully made him shine as if he’s the only light that’s being illuminated inside this auditorium.

Wonwoo ends his speech with a sincere thank you and a polite bow. The crowd claps and cheers for him (for the nth time). The school officials went to the stage and gave him flowers as well, to his surprise, before proceeding to have their pictures taken to commemorate the event.

You clap just like everyone else and watch Wonwoo with your smile never disappearing. It didn’t take long for the Prince to search for you and meet your eyes. With a wide smile, you give him two thumbs up. In response, he charmingly winks at you.

You can’t believe you like this guy.

I like him, you realized.

You’re just realizing that now after doing almost everything with him. Holding hands, sharing kisses here and there, hugging each other’s warm bodies and even spending the night together.

Yeah, I like him.

Lunch had to be short because you have one more place to visit. Jeongyeon mentioned that the drive could last approximately forty minutes to an hour. If you want to get back to the residences before it gets too dark, you need to get moving. You just grabbed a honey bread, which was Wonwoo’s recommendation since it’s his favorite and it’s the kingdom’s famous delicacy. You accompanied it with a cup of tea meanwhile Wonwoo got himself a cup of coffee.

The two of you ate your quick bites inside the moving vehicle and it was a stretch to not spill your beverages. The driver had to slow down every once in a while, but you and Wonwoo just giggled like some teenagers out on their first date.

Twenty minutes in the drive, Wonwoo is already passed out with his head laid on your shoulder while his fingers are interlaced with yours. You’re not sure if Wonwoo is tired or if he’s just really a sleepyhead by how much he’s been sleeping since the two of you arrived. Well, it’s only your second day. But you clearly remember how he slept on your way here, then today on the way to the university and now to your next destination.

Nonetheless, you let him be because this will last for two weeks only and after that, he’ll be back to his hospital duty schedule. And you won’t deny, he is definitely cute with his mouth ajar.

You have been to an orphanage several times before. Usually it’s with your parents as an official duty and other times, it’s just you. After witnessing various cases involving children at your internship at the Supreme Court, a purpose arose.

Children in your kingdom, like in any other kingdom, are beyond valued and laws are enacted to emphasize that value. Any crime committed against children is corresponded by punishments, regardless of who and what you are.

You haven’t handled a case firsthand and you hope to never do so.

This visit is nothing new to you and Wonwoo. But the heartbreak each time you step foot at such a place is something you’ll never get used to.

The children of the orphanage were nothing but full of joy when you and Wonwoo stepped out of the car. Their smiles and waves were enough to put a smile on your faces and lift the heavy burden of today’s affairs. Some of the kids ran to the two of you and handed flowers and small trinkets as gifts. One of them proudly said that they made it during their arts and crafts classes. While the others agreed saying how they made it just for you.

You and Wonwoo have your hearts swelling in adoration.

Hand in hand, you and Wonwoo followed the head caretaker as he toured you around. The facilities were of great condition, making it a healthy environment for the children as they play, study and grow. Right now, the orphanage only offers elementary education as there is only a small number of orphaned teenagers. But that doesn’t mean that they are taken care of any less.

A lot of changes and improvements have been made as the kingdom made an effort to protect the welfare of children in the country. According to the caretaker, there has been a spike of abandoned children on the streets from the previous year and to say that they are alarmed is an understatement. Volunteers, mostly teachers from elementary schools, protested and appealed to the kingdom’s cabinet members to do something and accordingly enough, they did.

It was a gradual process and it still is. But to them slow is better than unmoving.

After the program where the children presented a play of the turtle and the hare and the older brothers and sisters performed a dance number, you and Wonwoo were led by the caretaker to the gallery where photos that dated back to the establishment of the orphanage were displayed.

The photos hold memories of past volunteers and children who used to live here. Some stories of the children before were saddening. They didn’t only lose their real parents, oftentimes they also lose the second chance of having one. Some do get adopted meanwhile some grow old here, considering the orphanage as their sole family. It was difficult and eventually, the orphanage faced trials that almost caused its closure.

But the perseverance and sacrifices of the people here fought against those trials that helped the orphanage’s service to continue to this day.

“These are the children who got adopted this year,” the caretaker shows you a framed photo while the Prince spoke with the volunteer doctor about the health and wellness of the children.

The kids in the photo donned innocent smiles as if they were smiling directly at you. You touch the glass of the frame and try to embed their faces on your mind just like how you did to those you have met today.

You pray that they get to be happy forever.

You don’t get to see the sunset as much. The sunrise, maybe. But sunsets are a rare sight for you because of how late you stay at your office every day. So when Wonwoo suggested to stop by the nearest beachside and watch as the sun sets, you didn’t hesitate to say yes.

Wonwoo is the opposite. The sunset is closer to his heart because that’s usually the time where he catches a break. He’s go-to place to take in the majestic view is at the hospital’s rooftop. Sometimes Soonyoung accompanies him with dinner and sometimes he’s all by himself with a warm cup of coffee.

It’s a bit cold as you walk barefoot on the sand. It’s a relief that you’re wearing the pants that Jeongyeon prepared for you among the other options.

Wonwoo’s holding your one hand while you’re using the other to carry the heels you wore today. Security is lurking around as they give you the space and free time that you need. Today has been eventful but fun. And ending it with a peaceful walk on the beach only comforts you further.

“You were cool today,” you speak up against the sound of the waves and bump your shoulder to his. “Earlier at the university.”

Wonwoo smirks, but hangs his head low. “I’m always cool.”

You roll your eyes. “Whatever.”

After a few hundreds of steps, Wonwoo pulls you down to sit. He keeps his hands locked with yours as you take the last minutes of the ablaze color of the sky which is also reflected on the water.

“What do you think of going to my family’s vacation home tomorrow?” He asks while smiling at you.

You pretend to think for a second. “I really can’t say no to that, can I?”

Wonwoo purses his lips. “No, not really.”

“Well then, I think it would be lovely,” you finally answer.

Wonwoo took advantage of you facing him and stole a kiss from your lips. Your eyes widen with the fleeting contact while your cheeks burn in spite of the cold breeze coming from the ocean. The Prince laughs at your reaction and pulls you closer to him with his arms wrapped around your waist.

“From my memory of last night, you kissed me first.”

You threw daggers at him with your glare and hit his arm. “You’re unbelievable.”

“What? You don’t want to kiss me anymore?” He acts hurt and clutches the middle of his chest. “I’m hurt, Princess.”

“I didn’t say that,” you mutter under your breath and Wonwoo grins in victory.

“You started it so you’re gonna have to keep your end of the deal,” he whispers as he snuggles his face to your neck. “You’re marrying me after all.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Wonwoo suddenly draws back and gazes into your eyes.

“What?” You ask, confused.

“Kiss me.”

You push him away and stand up. “You know what, it’s getting cold. I want to go back to the car.”

“No!” Wonwoo holds onto your calf to prevent you from escaping. “You have to kiss me first!”

He seems to have forgotten that you’re not the only people enjoying the beach by how he’s acting and it’s starting to get embarrassing. He doesn’t seem to care as well because he remains persistent, hugging your leg and whining against it.

“Okay, okay!” You appease him and secure your hand on his cheeks. “Just one and we’re leaving.”

Wonwoo promises with a nod and stands up. He wraps his arms around your waist again, hugging you close to his chest. You rest your hands on them and stand on your toes to finally reach his expecting lips.

You give him a quick close-mouthed peck and that’s it.

“You call that a kiss?” Wonwoo teases, tightly holding you because he’s not taking any chances of you escaping him again.

“I’m starting to dislike you,” you say while pouting.

“Not if I do this,” he refutes and pulls your chin up so that he can lean down to kiss you fully.

Just like that, Wonwoo steals your breath again and you don’t even know anymore if it’s doing your heart good or not.

You’re guessing it’s the former.

#seventeen #wonwoo #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen imagines #wonwoo imagines #seventeen scenario #wonwoo scenario #seventeen imagine #wonwoo imagine #seventeen fluff #wonwoo fluff #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo seventeen #fic: ifliys

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sunflowersteves · 3 years

Text

i’m right here || d.d.

summary || Din thought that you didn’t want to be around him as much anymore, but it couldn’t have been farther from the truth.

author’s note || happy valentine’s day! I hope you all have a great valentine’s day and are given lots of hugs and kisses <3 this was a little angstier than I initially thought but I hope you enjoy!

warnings || absolute pure fluff, a little angst, nightmares, comfort

masterlist

Din Djarin wasn’t used to small touches and gentle caresses. In fact, before you came along, it had been years upon years since he had been touched so softly by another person.

It all started the first week you were on board the Razor Crest. You had been utterly startled by him barging through the ramp, his clunky armor loud on the hard floors. He had been hurt severely while pursuing a bounty and was nearly about to pass out from all of the blood he had lost.

But then he was wide awake because you had taken off his chest plate to observe the wound. Your hands ripped his undershirt in haste to get to the wounded area, and his breath instantly hitched. Your smooth fingertips skated across his rough skin, and his heart pounded faster than ever. He couldn’t stop staring at you as you cleaned and sewed up his wound.

You were graceful. You were oh so soft. If he had died right then and there, he wouldn’t have been that sad. To get to touch you—to feel your hands on his skin. It was divine, truly. It was the most wonderful thing he had ever felt.

Ever since then, it was like the two of you were bound as one. You were always touching, constantly in the presence of one another. It was addicting—almost infuriating at the fact that you two had to have your hands on each other at all times. Even Grogu started to get a little jealous at the amount of times your presences were practically on top of each other.

But then all of a sudden you had stopped. Din didn’t know why, but he didn’t like it one bit. You had been so closed off all of a sudden, and he didn’t know what to do. You would barely speak to him as the two of you sat in the cockpit; the stars and far galaxies spoke louder than you did.

It was bothering him to no end, but a part of him was too afraid to ask. He was scared to know the truth of why you were desperately hiding away from him. Had you realized this life wasn’t for you? Had you realized how much of a complicated person he is?

So many questioned buzzed through his helmet as the void that ruptured the two of you spread further. It was horrid. The pure silence, the lack of tender hand-holding, and the absence of fluttering touches had made him feel lonelier than ever. It was all so bleak, so empty.

He just hoped that you were okay, that you didn’t regret a single thing. He hoped that the space he was giving you was enough. And that’s all he could do at the moment, was hope.

Din was currently sitting in the cockpit, pressing buttons here and there to make sure that the Razor Crest is running smoothly. You were all in the Outer Rim following a bounty, and he knew that it could get rough some times. Everything was so quiet other than the snores that left Grogu’s little mouth and the occasional creek of the ship.

He sighed as he heard you crawl up the ladder and open the door, the latch opening with a loud hiss. He didn’t turn around like he normally would, just in case you were cold and un-wanting. He didn’t want to scare you off, considering that it had been almost two days since you left your small room.

“We’re still in the Outer Rim. We’re not too far from Actlyon, so be prepared to land in two hours.” It came as no surprise that you were still silent, completely restrained by whatever was bothering you. He let out another sigh and sat back into his chair, hoping to get a little bit of shut-eye before you all landed.

But then he heard it. At first, he thought his mind was playing tricks on him, and his helmet was just messing with him. But then he heard it for a second time, and he could’ve sworn his heart broke into two on the spot.

Small sniffles permeated through the silence as though it was tidal waves crashing up against the shore. His head whipped around to see your eyes puffy and your cheeks wet from tears.

Coarse pain burst through his chest at the full sob that broke out of your mouth. Your hands reached out to grab anything that could support you, and Din wasted no time in getting up and walking over to you. At first, all he could think about was the high possibility of your rejection, but your body immediately latched onto his. He pulled you into his arms, your head dangerously close to his chest.

Each tear that ran down your face was heavy on his heart; his gloved hands would reach up and wipe them away as fast as he could. He lightly ushered you to let go for a moment, and his heart clenched as panic flashed across your face.

“I’m right here.” That seemed to calm you down for a second as he left you to stand there. He sat down into the pilot chair, and he patted his lap softly. You inched closer to him, his hand reaching out and grabbing yours. He then carefully placed you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck and stuffed your face into the crook of his neck. His arms quickly wrapped around your torso and kept you close as you sobbed into his cloak.

You kept muttering small words, some he couldn’t recognize and some he figured out was his name. Each and every time, he would pull you even closer and whisper into your ear, “I’m right here, cyare. I’ve got you.” And he waited. He waited for your weeping sobs to die down to low sniffles. It took quite some time, maybe an hour or so, before you were able to calm down.

Your voice was raspy as you spoke, “I’ve been having nightmares lately.” He tilted his helmet to signal an understanding because he did. He got them too, and sometimes he couldn’t sleep for days and days. He started to rub your back, the tips of his gloved fingers rubbing back and forth.

“They’re just...” You suck in a breath, tears already bubbling up on the surface just thinking about it. Din grabbed a hold of your hand to give you a squeeze of encouragement. “They absolutely horrifying. Even when I wake up, I don’t feel safe. I feel so frightened and helpless. It’s like I can’t escape from them even when I’m awake.”

You paused as a few tears slid down your cheek, your hands tightening around him as you try and stop yourself from crying again. “I thought that... I thought that if I stopped caring, I wouldn’t have those nightmares anymore.” You pushed your head back to look at him, staring right into his visor. “But you died, Din. Y-You were in my arms covered in so much blood and-”

You were interrupted by the screeching sound of his chest plate ripped off of his chest. He grabbed your hand and placed it on his heart. Your eyes widened slightly at the fast, thumping pace. “I’m here, okay? I’m here—I’m alive.” Pure adoration burst through your chest as his heart continued to pump against your hand.

Relief washed over you, and your shoulders relaxed slightly. Everything felt okay like a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders finally after weeks of denial. “I’m never leaving you, absolutely never, got it?”

You nodded, his other hand moving up to caress your cheek. Your head absentmindedly moves closer into his cheek, relishing in the warmth that’s radiating off of his hands. He leaned in a bit closer, “I don’t want you to ever cry again, cyare. I never want to see it again.”

You could hear the hurt in his voice at each syllable that releases out of his mouth. Your hand moves from his chest up to his helmet, palm resting on the cheek of his helmet. It was a cold contrast to his hand that was currently resting on his cheek, but you didn’t care. You wanted him to know that you were okay—that he made everything okay.

“I’m okay... I just- hold me. Please”, he nods almost instantly to your words, and his strong arms wrap around your torso. He was pulling you in, and you rested your face in the crook of his neck again.

“I’m right here. I’ll always be right here, with you. I’m yours.” He chuckled as he heard your faint snores echo through the cockpit, almost matching Grogu’s. You must’ve been exhausted from all of the crying, and he knew you needed the sleep. He lifts up his helmet only for a second to place a quick kiss on your forehead.

“Sweet dreams, cyar’ika.”

Star Wars: @marvelous-capsicle @fandomsandxfiles @mudhornchronicles @cutebubblylmp @3strogen @met4no1a @writingletterstothefire @t3a-bag @beskar-tano

Din Djarin: @fandomsandxfiles @marvelous-capsicle @mudhornchronicles @cutebubblylmp @3strogen @doozywoozy @met4no1a @writingletterstothefire @t3a-bag @beskar-tano

Permanent: @captainchrisstan @angstysebfan @teenagereadersciencenerd @rebekahdawkins @hailmary-yramliah @stardust-galaxies @wiccanmetallicrose @keithseabrook27 @hereforthesunrise @lxdyred @ironbabey

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ackerfics · 3 years

Text

the parent trap — levi ackerman (ii)

part one | part three

— levi ackerman x female reader (modern au | the parent trap au)

—warnings: fluff (dad! levi) and an original character that was annoying to write

— summary: altair came home, only to find a thorn wedged in his little family.

— word count: 5.5k

— authors note’s: i finally have a sort of banner hhhhsdjwhd i figured that i should make one for every character that i’ll be writing in this blog so that i won’t run out of gifs. this is long overdue but i was writing this while having breaks from our backlogs the past week. happy reading !!

Levi Ackerman never liked waiting but when it comes to the only living memory he has of you, he was willing to stay under the harsh glare of the Sun’s rays.

He was only standing among the other people waiting for their family members and friends for about thirty minutes and he was already cursing California’s weather. He needed some rain once in a while. As he looked down on the asphalt, the white plane he was anticipating finally landed, the steps rolled down and various people started trickling out. Though his face remained stoic, Levi still craned his neck to get a glimpse of his boy (curse the people standing in front of him, making him realize he’s smaller compared to them), hair the same cut as him and a bright grin that matched the bright California Sun. Eight weeks was a long time and the sight of Altair Ackerman adjusting the duffel bag over his shoulder was making his heart melt.

Was his little boy growing so fast? Because Levi swore there was a new air surrounding his son, the older man watching Altair looking at him all star-struck.

With a small smile, Levi spread his arms wide and called out, “Come here, brat." He was already anticipating the barreling boy heading straight for him. With a grunt, Levi wrapped his son in a tight hug, lifting him from the ground and planting a kiss on his forehead. Weird, the little boy of eleven always whined about his kisses, saying that he was already nearing his puberty and that he didn’t need them anymore. Levi brushed the thought from his mind, thinking that Altair probably received the kiss because of homesickness, and placed his son on the ground.

A few seconds passed by and the young Ackerman only stared up at his father like he carried a thousand Suns on his shoulders. Tears were slowly building up in his eyes, wrapping his arms around Levi’s waist and nuzzling his head against his father’s toned stomach. Levi smiled gently, placing one of his hands on Altair’s hair, ruffling it until they’re tousled. “You miss me that much, Al? Well, I kind of agree. Sending you off to the other side of the country was my biggest regret this summer.” When Altair looked up, Levi couldn’t help but smile. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

“So, Dad, how’s everybody at home?” Altair asked, staying close at his father’s side while the black-haired man wrapped his arm around the little boy’s shoulders. “How are Petra and Uncle Eyebrows doing?”

Levi had to hold back his small scoff of laughter. “Petra is fine, she’s doing a number on the house because you’re finally home. Eyebrows will be visiting tomorrow but there’s a package from him waiting for you in your room as we speak.” He pushed the button of his car keys, unlocking their Jeep Wrangler and walking away for a moment to place his son’s bag in the backseat. “In short, they’re great and they can’t wait to see you.” He glanced at his little boy, who was standing patiently, and instantly thought that the summer camp mellowed out his brazen personality. Nodding his head towards the car, the two of them immediately set off to their part of town. “A lot has been happening around here during the eight weeks you were away. So don’t be surprised at what you’ll find at the house when we go back home.”

“A lot has happened to me, too, Dad,” Altair stated, his eyes focused on the cityscape passing by. He turned to his father with a half-smile. “I feel like I changed to be a more rational person.”

“Wow, summer camp was a good thing for you, huh?” Levi answered, silver eyes on the road ahead. “To think you said that. You must be getting old. Please don’t, I much preferred you to be my little boy for as long as it will take. What got you thinking this way when you’re at camp?”

The little boy shrugged. “Nothing, it’s just, seeing you for the first time,” he saw how Levi glanced at him so he quickly picked up, “in a long while made me realize a few things, Dad.”

“Wow, you sound so grown-up. It’s almost like you’re a new person.”

Altair froze for a moment before laughing. “By the way, Dad, you look taller to me earlier, too.”

“You didn’t have to go there, brat.” A comfortable silence enveloped the father and son until, “Oh, I forgot to mention, there’s some Oreos in the dash. You’re probably hungry after the flight.”

The raven-haired boy didn’t think twice in opening the compartment in front of him, gleefully clutching the pack of Oreos his father bought for him. After thanking Levi, Altair stuffed his face with the decadent biscuits that the former couldn’t prevent his small laughs from coming out. His son was a tough cookie but when it comes to his favorite treats, he instantly turns into a gushing, excited kid his age.

It reminded him of you actually.

As the tall buildings turned into lush green sceneries, his mind drifted to the memories he always clung to at random times. This time was one of those random moments when his mind was filled with thoughts of you. The divorce hit him like a thick wall but he couldn’t deny that he agreed to it because he knew you were happier with that. Who knows? You could be married to another person in your home country and Levi didn’t have a clue, mainly because he had to put up this façade that he doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. He felt guilty seconds after telling Petra to take down any framed pictures of you around the house because he couldn’t fathom looking at your beautiful face again. But as they entered the emerald sea of tea trees, Levi played the memory of when you first met. It was by chance, really — he just happened to be at the same place at the same time with you during college. He remembered how you effortlessly carried yourself without a care, how you listened to your friend blabber about certain topics.

For some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes away from you.

It was safe to say that Levi felt an arrow passing by his chest and suddenly, all he could think about is you.

“The plantation is absolutely breathtaking, Dad.”

Altair’s voice interrupted his thoughts, his eyes glancing at the little boy who was in a trance while staring into the tea trees. He slightly furrowed his eyebrows at the use of vocabulary. While watching his son grow up, he never once heard him exclaim his awe of things that way. There are exceptions, of course, but not that much. It almost sounded like how you would always describe Levi’s eyes, sending the gray-eyed man’s heart thumping in his chest at the mere thought of it. He tried calming down his fast heartbeat but to no avail as he kept picturing you with the softest eyes, feather-like hands, and voice suited for a lullaby that were always the subjects of his dreams at night. Those dreams were mainly the reason why he chose not to sleep, spending the early morning hours in the kitchen while indulging in his son’s favorite combination, which is disgusting but tastes so well together. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and responded a hum to what his son said.

“You sound like you haven’t seen the plantation in forever,” Levi joked, missing how Altair once again froze, the latter’s eye twitching as he squirmed in his seat.

“Uhm, I think it’s because I’m so used to tall trees the past eight weeks, Dad.” Altair laughed lightheartedly, dismissively waving his hand. “But,” he prolonged the word, “if there’s something at camp that stresses me out, I’ll just picture our plantation in my mind. It sort of gives me peace for a couple of minutes until a brat comes up to me, challenging my position as the fencing champion for one week.”

“A fencing challenge?”

“Yeah, Dad, he was pretty awesome,” Altair shrugged.

“So you made a friend?”

The little boy turned to the dark-haired man with an expression of disbelief. “Your tone sounds like you don’t believe me. Have you no faith in your son, Dad?”

Levi scoffed a laugh. “I don’t mean it like that. I’m genuinely curious about this brat you’re talking about and how he challenged you for the title of fencing champion in the summer camp. I don’t know,” he shrugged, one hand raised in the air, “does he even treat you well? Or was he scared because of how you look at people? You got that from me apparently. I just don’t want my brat being shunned by others, okay? I was actually worried the whole time you’re away. Worried for the people there, that is. Because they’re missing out on this amazing boy.”

The older Ackerman’s rambles made Altair chuckle. There was always something when his dad took off in the worried state — it made his heart warm and he couldn’t help but answer the main question posed by Levi. Altair hummed under his breath, eyes set on the roof of the car, phrasing his answer so that it wouldn’t reveal too much. Stuffing an Oreo in his mouth, he muttered. “Actually, he was courteous, Dad.”

The dark-haired man glanced at his son, shaking his head at how the crumbs clung to the side of Altair’s mouth. Taking one of his hands from the steering wheel when he saw they were the only ones driving under the canopy of trees, Levi reached out and quickly cleaned his son’s face free of Oreo crumbs. Going back to focusing on the road, he slightly smiled, voicing out his question, “'Courteous’?” Levi turned to his son, who was conspicuously grimacing and hiding it by eating another Oreo. “What, all of a sudden you’re so proper?” The man’s gray eyes flickered to his son’s fingers. Taking the boy’s hand, he examined them for a moment before going back to the road. “You’re still biting your nails, huh?”

Altair perked up, his voice becoming pitchy, covering it with a cough. “Dad, you noticed!”

“What do you mean by ‘noticed’? You’ve been biting them since you could chew. The number of times we had to tell you to stop is ingrained in my brain so why would I only notice that now?”

The onyx-haired boy turned his body so that he would be directly facing Levi. Blinking, he escaped his dad’s question with a, “But I’ve decided to stop it, Dad. I finally realized how horrid it is as a habit, Dad.”

“There you go again. ‘Courteous’, ‘horrid’. I’m pretty sure I didn’t send you to finishing school.” Levi smiled. “And why do you keep saying ‘Dad’ in every sentence? Not that I don’t like it but I just noticed it since your plane landed.”

Altair chuckled lowly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was doing it, Dad.” When Levi made a full laugh, the little boy grinned. “So sorry, Dad.” The two shared a few laughs before Altair cleared his throat. “Do you know why I kept saying ‘Dad’? You want the truth?”

“’Cause you missed your old man so much?”

A sad smile painted the gray-eyed boy’s lips, making sure that Levi didn’t turn his head to catch his melancholic mood. He chose to look out the window to avoid tearing up while staring at his father’s side profile. “Exactly. It’s because my whole life,” he cursed at the slip-up, “I mean, you know, for the past eight weeks, I was never able to say the word ‘Dad’ at all. Not even once. If you ask me, a father is an irreplaceable person in a kid’s life. The friend who challenged me to a fencing competition had no father to take care of them, to see them take their first steps or hear their first words. It got me thinking that there are probably kids my age who didn’t see their fathers even once, let alone call someone ‘Dad’. I mean, there’s this whole day dedicated to celebrating all the fathers in the world. I couldn’t imagine a life without you, Dad. I couldn’t imagine not saying ‘Hi, Dad!’ or ‘How’s the tea shop, Dad?’. Something will always be missing if I didn’t have you.”

Levi’s heart melted, his insides turning into a gushing mess at the words of his son. He couldn’t even imagine his life without his little him, following around like a lost duckling when he was a toddler learning how to walk. He couldn’t imagine his days without his boy reaching his chubby arms just for him to lift his cuddly body in his arms. He couldn’t imagine his nights without reading a bedtime story to a drowsy Altair, eyes looking at him as if every story is worth listening to. The first part of Altair’s little monologue reminded him of the other bundle of joy that the nurse gave him when you gave birth all those years ago. He swore that day that he will shower equal love and affection on his two brats but it turns out, it wasn’t meant to be. The other half of Altair was far into the sea with you and there was a time that he wanted to visit, however, the strength never came into him. But for now, he was thankful that Altair got home safe and sound, no scratches and face lighting up with precious emotions.

“Holy shit.”

Levi laughed at the curse. “Now you’re sounding like your old self.”

Altair’s eyes widened at the arch welcoming the car to the estate. Your name was in bold letters, vines of vibrantly colored flowers making the entrance even more magical. The little boy glanced at Levi and he could see how the older man’s eyes turned soft at the name, his shoulders drooping slightly as if he finally entered into an ethereal place. Facing forward, Altair had a conclusion. Levi Ackerman, his father, is still very much in love with you, his mother. His insides were buzzing with excitement and he couldn’t wait to phone someone from across the sea at his discovery. The plan was coming together and he didn’t even start a thing.

The house was more than what was described to the gray-eyed boy. Every wall was covered with groomed vines, splashes of color can be seen because of the flowers growing between the greens. It looked like a manor in those romance movies he watched a few years back. A balcony above the main doorway overlooked the driveway and front yard. The air was so clean that the little boy rolled down the windows and took a deep breath, the therapeutic yet faint smell of tea wafting through the perimeter of the house. Without another word, Altair stepped out of the car once Levi parked it at the side of the front yard. His eyes were full of stars as he looked up at the two-story building in front of him, the maroon of the bricks and the green of the vines calming his pounding heartbeat in the best way possible. A bark from the balcony made him crane his head, the fur of a golden retriever catching his eye.

He was finally here — he was home.

“Oh, my God, he’s home!”

A shout came from the inside of the house, shocking Altair from eyeing the canine on the balcony. He could faintly hear Levi snickering behind him as the older man took out his bag from the backseat of the car. A woman of short strawberry blonde hair was running towards him, under the arched front door, and then engulfing him in a warm hug with her thin yet firm arms. This must be Petra, his nanny and head maid of the household. He reciprocated the embrace, nuzzling his head on the woman’s neck. She smelled of spice and a hint of orange and Altair found himself craving some juice in an instant. Pulling away from the woman, he found out how pretty she is. Freckles dotted her cheeks, eyelashes framing warm brown irises, and a smile that can blind him at any second.

“Look at you!” Petra tried measuring Altair’s height with a hand, exclaiming, “Oh, you grew! We miss you so much!” Patting the boy’s shoulders with her hands, she leveled her stare with Altair. “Don’t you dare let your old man talk you out of going back to camp, okay? You need adventure every once in a while.”

“Okay.”

“You hungry?”

Altair shrugged with a smile.

“I made cornbread, chili, and I squeezed some orange for some juice, too.” Petra noticed how Altair kept staring at her with a sad smile, piquing her interest. “Hey, bud, why are you so quiet? Is something wrong?”

“I think he needs to take a shit from all the traveling,” Levi interjected, the orange duffel bag on his shoulder and one of his hands inside a pocket of his jeans.

“No!” Altair yelled, cheeks aflame with heat, and eyes flittering between the two laughing adults. “I don’t feel like taking a shit … it’s just, I,” he paused, inhaling tea-scented air, “I just miss home so much and I’m happy to finally be here.”

With Petra’s arm wrapped around Altair’s shoulders, the two followed Levi into the house. The strawberry blonde woman kept glancing at the little boy at her side, sensing something amiss from how he acted. There was something not clicking for Petra and it flared, even more, when Levi’s dog, Captain, came running from the second floor to give Altair a welcoming. Only it wasn’t that warm and cuddly welcome the boy received from the two adults, it was full of barks and growls from the golden retriever directed towards Altair. Pushing the doubts from her mind, Petra had to intervene since Captain showed no sign of stopping and Altair was stuck on the wall.

“What is wrong with you, you goofball,” Petra scolded the dog, gently putting her hands on the canine’s head and ruffling his fur. “This is Altair.”

“I think it’s because I smell like camp,” Altair murmured, stepping away from the dog with small steps until he found himself in the living room. Behind him, Petra was telling the dog that it seems like he doesn’t recognize one of his owners and Altair took everything inside him not to flinch at the remark. However, the interior design of the living room caught his eye and the worries building up inside his mind vanished in an instant. There was a huge fireplace in front of an arranged long couch and armchairs. Paintings were placed immaculately around the room, matching with the color palette of browns and beiges. Overall, it looked like a manor and Altair was in awe that he spoke in a British accent, forgetting his crafted persona. “Wow, this is better than the pictures.”

“Kiddo, what do you want to do first?” Petra called out as she entered the living room. She straightened one throw pillow on the long couch before turning to the little boy who schooled his features into a blank one. “Do you want to eat and then unpack, or we could unpack and eat? Or we could eat while we unpack.”

“You mean I can eat in my room?”

Petra furrowed her brows, crossing her arms across her chest. “Well, yeah, that’s a definite possibility.”

“Al,” Levi shouted from the kitchen, hands occupied with a bowl of chili and a spoon. “When you’re done, come on down. I want you to meet someone.” Levi glanced at Petra, who was pursing her lips, knowing who this person Altair’s going to be introduced to. The gray-eyed man narrowed his eyes slightly as if telling his friend to not tell the boy before him. “The chili’s good, Petra, thank you.” He then turned around to get some more chili for the guest, brushing off how Petra rolled her eyes.

“Okay, Dad!” Altair yelled.

“Okay, Al,” Levi replied, a smile can be heard in his voice.

The little boy’s eye followed his father until he went out the patio with two bowls of chili. Everything blanked out when he saw Levi placing one of the bowls in front of a woman dressed in a tight-fitting dress. Altair couldn’t see the face of the woman but he could tell she was way younger than his dad. Levi kept standing at the other side of the table, with the woman leaning forward, probably trying to impress his father.

“Hello, handsome,” the woman said in a sultry voice.

“Hello,” Levi replied in a flat voice, hands gripping his bowl of chili.

“So did you tell him?”

“I was getting to that but he was tired and he needs to unpack. It won’t hurt to be patient since you’re only a guest here.”

The woman scoffed. “And chili? Really, Levi?”

“Mr. Ackerman.”

“Ooh, kinky.”

“Tch.”

Altair leaned towards Petra’s side, dropping his voice in a whisper. “Tell me what?”

“We’ll talk about this in your room, Al,” Petra whispered right back, steering the boy to the stairs but not before glancing back at the two people on the patio. She hoped Levi will take care of this situation before it gets worse. “Even though your father told me with a glare to never tell you this first, I might have to because we don’t want you snapping at that woman. It’s best to keep a clear mind when around her.”

Altair dropped his duffel bag on the floor when they finally entered the safety of his room. There was a wrapped parcel with a card saying, ‘welcome home’, and Altair concluded that this was Erwin’s gift. Petra and he sat on the floor, the woman opening the bag and taking out the topmost items. She handed the camera to a distressed Altair, pursing her lips at how the boy’s thoughts can be seen in his eyes. While she was taking out some of his clothes, Altair stood up and went to his window overlooking the wide backyard. The little boy’s eyebrows met again in a glare that mirrored his father’s too much as he looked down from his window, distaste, and confusion evident on his scowl. Petra sighed, knowing that if Altair wasn’t told what the truth is, he will be in one of his moods where not even a plate of chili and a pack of Oreos can quell his snappy attitude.

“Trust your dad, kiddo,” the strawberry blonde tried for a casual tone.

“Who’s that?”

“That woman is Cynthia Maryland from San Francisco,” Petra answered, patting her lap from imaginary dust, and crossed the room to stand beside the boy. “She was this publicist, or so she claims, and tried to strike a deal with your dad regarding the ongoing popularity of your tea shop and its branches. That is why I told you to watch what you say to her, just a snap of her fingers and she will paint the tea shop and your family in a bad light. But it seems like she’s selling something other than tea.” The two of them watched the Cynthia woman try to wrap her arm around Levi’s, the latter snatching his limb at the speed of light and walked ahead, ignoring the whines of the young woman as he relayed the ideas that revolved around her work. The message that Levi wasn’t interested in her didn’t reach the brunette woman, following him with eyes filled with faux adoration that made the two grimace. “Ugh, disgusting. She’s taking the word desperate to another whole level.”

Altair narrowed his eyes. “I think the word desperate has her picture on the internet. Why is she so adamant?”

“Of course, it is. Look at it this way; your father is this grumpy, middle-aged, short man and that woman is a young, pretty thing begging for his time of the day. Who in their right mind would try to suck up to him these days? I mean, not that I was describing Levi as this unattractive man but I saw her in the city bank last time I was out for groceries, and let me tell you, that woman is a snake trying to check your dad’s worth. Al, do you think there’s really something going on between them?”

“So she wants him for his money?”

Petra nodded, ruffling the boy’s hair affectionately. “That’s about right, kiddo.”

“Does he like her?”

“You have to hear from your dad about that.”

And that was what Altair wanted to know, giving Petra a quick wave and running downstairs to where the woman had his father in her clutches after changing into some swimming shorts and a shirt. There was no way that this was happening. His father who didn’t bat an eyelash on any woman the past eleven years was giving this stranger attention. Everything in the plan will be in shambles if this goes on. The poor boy’s mind was a mess and it became worse when he stepped out into the pool, the sight of his father standing beside the lounging chair with the young woman lying on it like she owned the house. His father’s back was to him so he couldn’t discern what expression he had as he stared down at the woman flaunting her figure for all the plants in the poolside to see. The woman was talking about something until Altair caught her eye, the little boy controlling himself from flinching.

“There’s the little man of the hour!” Cynthia gleefully announced, waving her hand high in the air.

Levi turned around and his hardened gaze became soft at his panting son. Glancing at the woman on the chair with unreadable eyes, he murmured, “I’ll be back with the new brew. You can keep my son company while he swims.” He tenderly ruffled Altair’s hair as he passed by the boy, giving him a rare, breathtaking smile. “Behave, Al.”

The woman grumbled along the lines of not introducing her to Altair but she quickly changed her face into a kind one as she faced the boy. Upon seeing the blank expression on the gray-eyed boy, Cynthia tried to liven up the atmosphere. “Hey, sweetie,” her eye twitched when Altair visibly scrunched his nose in disgust, “my name is Cynthia Maryland and I’m a special friend of your father’s.” She sat up in the lounge chair, straightening her posture to make an impression on the kid. With an award-winning smile, Cynthia continued, “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting the famous Altair Ackerman that everyone has been talking about. I actually looked forward to this all summer!”

“Really? Well, here I am.”

Cynthia cleared her throat at the still icy look Altair was giving her. “You’re so adorable. The way your father talked about you, I was expecting a sweet little toddler but here you are, already nearing adolescence. The way he talked about how you’re the most special person in his life right now, it’s so heartwarming and probably the reason why I like him.” Altair rose an eyebrow at this. “Enough about me, the spotlight is on you, young man.”

“I’m nearing twelve.” Altair tilted his head. “How old are you?”

Cynthia giggled. “Twenty-four.”

A fake gasp rang through the air. “Only thirteen years older than me. You’re practically my older sister. You know, I never had a sibling. Must be nice to be recognized by Dad and be well-acquainted with the rest of the family members before you get adopted. It’s a good thing Dad’s the one adopting you. He takes great care of our dog so I’m sure he’ll take care of you like he takes care of Captain, too.”

“Excuse me?”

A ringing phone broke the conversation, the noise coming from Cynthia’s glittery purse. The brunette suppressed a groan of annoyance, schooling her features in a close-lipped smile while taking out her phone. Altair didn’t think twice turning around and sitting at the edge of the pool. His eyes never strayed from the blue waters, ears perked up to eavesdrop from the pesky woman. If a stranger saw him at the moment, one would think he was thinking of murdering the pool but he never strayed his gaze from the water, his low laugh of disbelief ringing through the vicinity at the woman’s words. It seems like she was telling someone off and that she was taking care of things perfectly in the Ackerman estate.

“I’m sorry to inform you but Levi will be out of the country at the date of your visit. I’ll call you later, bye.” Cynthia sat up on the chair, placing both of her elbows on top of her knees, and leaning forward to regard the little boy who swiveled his head too quickly when he heard his father going out of the country. “So, Al, how was camp? Was it fabulous?”

“Dad is flying out of the country? For what?”

Cynthia laughed, glancing at her phone. “Oh, no. I just had to tell a little white lie to get him out of something. You know, Al, I have never heard a man talk about his son the way that Levi talks about you. You two are incredibly close but seeing the two of you together, well, it’s like he has a little him.”

“Well, we’re closer than close.” Altair stood up from the side of the pool and took his shirt off, leaving him in his swimming trunks. Glancing at the woman, who was faking a smile, he responded with a fake one as well. “We’re all each other has like always.” He made a cannonball in the pool, splashing water everywhere. There was a shriek of surprise from Cynthia, screaming about her designer dress and make-up, to which Altair didn’t hold back his smirk. Emerging to the surface, he shook his head before planting an innocent smile on his face. “Sorry. Did you get wet, Cecilia?”

“It’s Cynthia!”

“Oh, my bad, Cindy.”

Cynthia groaned in aggravation, her kind façade dropping. “And it just splashed on my clothes. Don’t worry about it, Al.” She tried making herself presentable again with a strained smile. Her hand raked through her curled brown locks, ruffling them for a little volume and flipping them over her shoulder. She walked towards the side of the pool, her heels clanking against the stoneworks. It was Altair’s least favorite sound now, along with her horrendous giggles that were too high and pitchy. He’d rather prefer your soft laughs that seem to sound like fairies but that thought was interrupted when Cynthia crouched in front of Altair, her smile hiding something sinister behind those bloody red lips. “Hey, guess what. I know your dad has been lonely—“

“He’s not lonely,” Altair cut off with a blank face.

“I know he’s not lonely,” Cynthia rolled her eyes. “But your mother has been out of the picture the moment you were born. It appeared to me that she couldn’t handle the responsibility of taking care of an infant so she left.”

Lies.

“Levi told me one time while we were riding about out how lonely he was without someone to lay in bed or to make love with.”

Disgusting.

“So I expressed my feelings for him because the more time we spent together, the more time I fell in love with a man like your father. He was everything.”

Do you mean, he has the money?

“I was genuinely surprised when he told me he felt the same way and before you knew it, we were dating. He told me while on a date last week that he wishes for you, Al, to have a mother’s love and affection, and with it, he proposed to me.”

Bloody woman, she’s ruining the plan!

“I would like to be a great mother to you, Altair Ackerman. I would shower you with all the love your mother couldn’t give you because she’s too selfish.”

A static noise rang around Altair, his eyes murderous on the smug woman by the pool.

“I have the new brew—Al, are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Levi slid his sharp eyes on Cynthia. “What did you tell my son?

Her grin was like the devil. “Nothing, Levi, just the truth.”

Altair only looked down with gritted teeth and teary eyes, murmuring along the lines of, “Mum is not selfish. She’s every good thing here.”

That night, Altair locked himself in the bathroom, his phone in hand. Dialing a very familiar number, he waited for the other person to pick up with half-lidded eyes. When his voice answered the phone, Altair immediately dropped his American accent. “It’s me. We have a major problem here. A pest made herself known. What’s your situation over there?”

#aot #snk #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #modern au #i hate writing whiny bitches hhhhswujd #levi #rorywrites

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naoyas90dayfiance · 3 years

Text

+18 | Helping a friend | Naoya x Reader

Author's note: this is porn with a plot. hope you like it!

Warning: female reader, blackmail. Naoya receives: handcuffing, ball-gagging, blindfolding, non-con picture taking and sharing. You receive: a friendship badge

Summary: You make Naoya fall into your trap in order to help a friend.

Word count: 3.1k

Reader discretion is advised

"I can shut him up," your friend chuckled at your comment. She got up off the bed, went to her closet, and threw you a pair of metal handcuffs and a black ball gag.

"You'll need that," you eyed the toys up and furrowed your brows.

"What? You can touch them. They're clean."

"How clean?"

"Very clean. Wash them again if you want to or something," she rose her tone.

"Ok, but don't get upset."

"So..." she stretched up the last sound.

"Yes, I'm going to shut his pretty face." You both started laughing, as you took the toys and put them in your purse.

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

You blinked in the dark, your head tried to process the cheerful sound coming from your nightstand. Recognizing it was your phone, you opened your eyes and picked it up to see the name "Naoya Zen'in" lighting up the screen. Before deciding where to swipe, you looked at the time on the top. It was 1.30 AM.

You irked an eyebrow and bit your lip: the game was up. You swiped up, taking his call in, and listened to the other side of the line.

"Hey, sweetheart," his tone was seductive. You could hear the smile on his face.

You remained silent, looking at the ceiling of your room, thinking about how you could possibly put the toys your friend gave you on the future leader of the Zen'in clan.

"Hello?" Naoya asked.

"Hi, baby," you said softly.

"Were you asleep?"

"I was about to, but I saw your call."

"Good girl. What are you wearing?"

"Remember the lace set you gave me for my birthday?" You heard him chuckle.

"Of course I do. Send me a picture."

"I have a better idea," you said

"You do?"

"Why don't you come over here to see what I'm wearing? You know, I've been thinking about you," he didn't respond.

"About what you did to me the other night," you continued. "I get shivers just from remembering it," still no answer. At the silence, you checked the screen: he was still on the line.

"Baby, are you going to make me say..."

"Say it," he interrupted you.

"I want to be your slut again, Naoya."

"What a whore," you heard the sound of keys in the background. "Don't you dare leave me waiting outside your house."

"I'm already at the door, baby," he hung up.

You turned up on your nightstand's lamp, got up from the bed, and beelined to your purse. There they were: a pair of metal handcuffs and a black ball gag. However, there was something missing.

Making your way to your closet, you started to search for a piece of thick fabric. After not too much shuffling, you took out a black tie and a red silk robe you found on the process. You made your way to the nightstand to put the toys and the tie inside the first drawer.

The Zen'in household was far from your home, being a 20 minutes car ride to be exact. It gave you time to make your bed, light up a sandalwood candle and give yourself a short shower to put on some scented lotion all over your body.

When you finished caressing your figure, you slipped into the tiny lace set he gave you. It was a bralette and a thong.

"This guy has no imagination, at least he has a pretty face," you said looking at yourself in the mirror, adjusting the lingering to your body.

As a finishing touch, you decided to put the robe you chose earlier on top. Next, you checked your phone again, making sure to mute the camera app; then you placed it near your lamp.

Giving one final look to your room, you hummed to yourself in satisfaction and made your downstairs to wait for him in the living room.

You sat on the couch, making yourself comfortable. Nevertheless, in a matter of seconds you heard three knocks on the door. You waited for the other knocks. A smile grew wide on your face when ten bangs sounded throughout the house. You walked to the door, put on a straight face, and greeted the person on the other side.

"Let me in," Naoya grabbed you by the shoulder, moving you aside to make his way into your house uninvited.

"Why did you take so long to answer the fucking door?" He got behind you as you were closing the entrance. Without warning, he placed his hand on your neck. "Is this a fucking game to you?" You could feel the pressure building on his grip.

"I was getting our room ready," your voice could be barely heard. He removed his hand from your throat and placed it on your waist, getting his crotch near your ass.

"You smell good," he said. You started to feel how his hot breath caressed your nape. His hands started to caress the sides of your figure, feeling every inch of them with his long fingers.

"I got ready for you," you responded. Closing your eyes, you pressed yourself against his broad and tall figure. Your arms snaked behind him, reaching for his soft hair.

He turned you around, making your hearts beat next to each other. You kept your eyes down. Naoya softly took you by the chin and lifted your face. He lowered himself to kiss your lips.

He moved hands from your waist, to the hips, and to your butt. He grabbed it roughly and started to fondle it, feeling the soft fabric of the robe against your bum. Soon enough, the wet sounds of your tongues playing with each other started to fill the living room. Your hands moved to his strong arms, noticing the flexing of each muscle as he kept kneading your behind. A strong slap on your right asscheek interrupted the kiss.

"Let's go upstairs," you said.

"What if I fuck you here?" He grinned.

"I want to make you feel good, baby."

He lifted you up with your rear in his hands. You hugged his slim and toned waist with your legs. Naoya resumed the kissing. You softly bite his chubby bottom lip while touching his thick neck, and then his well-formed chest. He squeezed your ass and pressed you harder against his now-growing bulge.

As you two got to the bedroom, he sat on the edge of the bed, breaking the kiss once again. Naoya moved his hands from your aching bum to your chest, starting to move aside the red neckline to reveal what you were wearing underneath.

He lifted both of his brows to get a good look at the delicious way the tiny fabric was trying to hide your perked nipples. However, the real show was when he looked closely and noticed how painfully small the set was, leaving deep marks around your areola, your breasts seemed squishy.

At the sight, he started to grope them roughly, getting his mouth near your left tit. He bit the mushy skin until his teeth were tattooed on it. Then, he started to lick and suck your stiff nipple over the fabric. You moaned softly, which encouraged him to go to your other boob, repeating the process and leaving you with bruises. His tongue kept drawing wet circles until he was proud of how shiny the fabric looked.

When he finished his work on your bosom, he went to your neck and started suck harshly the skin; you could feel his teeth mistreating the thin skin. To even things up, your hands went to the waistline of his sweatpants. At your action, his touching stopped abruptly. You looked at him puzzled.

"Get on your knees now," you followed his command. His face lit up.

"I've trained you well, haven't I?" He said. Your hands were lowering his pants and boxers, freeing his half-hard dick; you had to hold back a smile when you saw precum already coating the top. You took him in your hands, giving up-and-down strokes to his thick shaft.

"Yes, baby," you said. His cock twitched.

Naoya put his hand on your hair, petting it lightly, asking you through his touch to take him into your mouth, and so you did. Starting with kitty licks on the head, creating a line of saliva and precum that connects his red mushroom head with your hot mouth. The Zen'in could only hiss at the sight, his touch grew desperate.

Hearing his reaction made you put half of his blood-filled cock in your mouth, moving your head back and forth; making sure the outline of it was visible through your cheek. As the bobbing continued, you placed a hand on his balls, caressing them harshly, gaining a loud moan from him.

He took you by the back of your head, pushing your face to his green bush, getting you to take more of him into your wet hole. He left out a groan as you hummed around it. Naoya started to push your mouth even further, wanting to see how much you could take of his full-grown erection. Your senses became clouded for the salty smell of his arousal was going through your nose.

Feeling his movements getting faster and deeper, you slapped his hand away. Naoya stared at you with his eyes widened, unable to react to your sudden movements. You took his confusion to your advantage and climbed on top of him, pressing his shoulders to the bed, laying him down.

You placed his hands above his head and kissed him deeply, caressing the inside of his mouth with your precum-covered tongue. The blonde followed your pace; enjoying how you began rubbing your hips on top of him. Naoya focused on how the plushy lips of your pussy and the sticky lace felt on his cock. But his pride got in the way.

In a flash, he pinned you to the bed, looking at your face trying to get answers for your surprising behavior. What he got to see was a teary face and your half-open lips shining with both of your saliva.

"What is it baby?" You asked. Naoya removed himself from you and sat on the bed, his head was low.

"Shit," you thought to yourself. Slowly, you started to touch his toned back, seeing his muscle tense up underneath his black shirt.

"Baby, you know what we do here is private. If you're upset about what I did, I'm sorry, I just got too caught up in the moment. You're my king and the one who drives me crazy," you crawled to his lap, placing your legs first, embracing him. Your hands caressed his cheek. He looked at you. You put your lips on top of his, moved your hands to his hips and played with the blazing heat of his dick.

You moved your abused mouth to his neck, your hands now on his balls and cock. Naoya drew his head back, not believing the amount of pleasure he was feeling. You didn't hesitate to make your next move.

"Baby," your hands moved to his abdomen, scratching his six hard and defined muscles, "I want to pleasure you like never before. I want to try something new with you."

"What?" He managed to say too low for his own liking. You sensed he was coming back to his right mind, but decided to not let that happen.

"Kimi, Toji's girlfriend, shared with me a secret. She said he loved it, and I want to try it," he closed his eyes and moved his head to the side. You hear how difficult his breathing was, your hands hadn't stopped playing with his sack, making his dick pulse near your crotch.

"I want all of your cum," you said. His eyes opened in shock. This was your chance.

"Lay down, baby, I will take care of you," he followed your command.

Moving your hands quickly, you took the handcuffs out of the drawers, Naoya stared at the item without blinking.

"Trust me," you said putting the toy between your legs, his eyes moved from the object to your swelling pussy. He relaxed against the bed, but you could see how his Adam's apple gulped. In a quick but steady manner, you put the wire between the headboard's poles.

Naoya kept his eyes on your body, not remembering when the robe was discarded from your body. His thoughts were interrupted when you lowered your figure, facing him. You could feel his fiery breath on your face, almost burning you. You placed small pecks on his lips, which he returned eagerly. Your hands went to his neckline, and passed them through his shapely shoulders and arms until you got to his hands, interwinding your fingers with his.

With all the care of the world, you placed his arms above his head. Suddenly, both of you heard two click sounds: he was restrained. You fixed your position so your clothed cunt was hugging his painfully hard cock.

You grinded with back-and-forth movements against him. He started to groan, intoxicated at the velvet texture caressing his ridge. The sinful smell of sex and sandalwood clouding his mind; it was too much for the sex-deprived Zen'in clan member.

You touched his face, making him open his eyes and look at your face; but then, his eyes travelled to the place where your cunt was slowly feeling him. He could feel the tension building up in his body.

You took your bralette off, placing it right next to his face. Naoya changed his focus to your chest, being only able to see the beautiful mounts he had in front of him, making him ooze more white liquid that fell beautifully on his abdomen.

You noticed right away and took some of it with your finger, licking it seductively while looking at him directly in the eye. He could only give out quiet moans. You could see his face growing red. Naoya threw his head back and tensed his muscles, enjoying the feeling you were giving him.

He opened his eyes again when he felt your weight shifting, this time a black ball was in your hands. He looked at it closely.

"What the fuck is that?"

"It's part of the game, Naoya, baby. It's for you to not bite your tongue out of the pleasure," he narrowed his eyes.

"Trust me, if not you're not feeling good I will stop immediately, I will follow your commands," his gaze lingered in your face, but seeing you so pretty made him lay back on the pillow, closing his eyes once again.

You tied the toy behind his neck, put a hand on his cheek to get his mouth to open slightly, and then you placed the gag on him.

You lifted yourself up to untie the simple knot that kept the sides of your panties together. At the loss of friction Naoya started to struggle against his handcuff, looking at you directly in the eye, clearly upset.

You removed your panties and threw them away. You placed your left hand on his chest. He saw how your other hand aligned his swollen cock against the entrance of your dripping pussy.

He stopped his struggle after he felt the head of his cock being swallowed by your tight cunt, the erotic hug almost made him cum right away, but he started to breathe deeply to calm himself down.

A loud moan escaped your lips as you lower yourself, getting through his fat mushroom tip, moving towards the thick shaft until you were fully stuffed by his cock. Quickly, you started to hop on top of him, making sure to add waves of extra pressure by contracting your ass; his breath became erratic.

Naoya softly opened his eyes, directing them immediately at your bouncing breasts, watching how your nipples played in front of him, teasing him almost. As you moved sensually on top of his cock, you sensed him getting bigger and twitching inside you, so you decided to stop. You calmed down and looked at him.

"You deserve more than this, baby. You deserve it after all your hard work," Naoya's mouth opened when his cock left your hot pussy, the way it caressed his ridge almost had him releasing his cum on his abs.

He was too puzzled to understand what you had in your hands.

You placed the piece of fabric over his eyes, tying it behind his head. He didn't like the thought of not looking at you. However, at how events were playing, he wanted to know what you were about to do next. Little he knew that at that moment a photo was being taken.

After everything went dark for him, Naoya felt your soft lips and tongue going from his broad neck to his hard nipples, your tongue playing with them in circles while your hands started to caress his heavy sack again. He arched his back slightly. You could have sworn you sensed whimpers coming from him. Your lips moved to his belly, biting and licking each separate abdominal muscle.

"You're so sexy," you said. He tried to chuckle, but the ball gag didn't let him.

Your caresses stopped, leaving the young man waiting for your next move. He exhaled roughly when he felt your velvety insides wrapping up his dick. You started to bounce, making your ass slap loudly against his thighs. Your moans filled the room. Naoya could only curl his toes at the rushed movements.

You leaned towards his shoulders, using them as support. You changed the pace, harshly thrusting his dick into your soaked cunt, the squeaking sound of the bed amplified. His hot cock twitched against your walls, caressing your sweet spot deliciously.

After a few more thrusts, you felt your belly spamming. Naoya felt your pussy pulsing, milking him. The future leader couldn't help himself but release loads and loads of his thick cum inside you, clenching his hands and holding his breath.

Naoya’s body gave up and laid still on the bed. You took note of his behavior, so you removed the blindfold and the ball gag.

You were greeted by a sleepy man with his eyes closed, his breath returning to normal. Without losing much time, you also undid his handcuff.

Naoya put his arms down. You removed yourself from the top of him, managing to lie beside his figure. The room remained silent for a few hours.

Before the sun rose Naoya got himself off your bed, went to take a shower in your bathroom, got dressed, and left your place. You remained in bed with eyes closed, but noticing each of his movements.

When you heard the engine of his car starting, you reached out for your phone on the nightstand, opening your messaging app and sending the photo. Suddenly, a notification popped up:

"That could work as blackmail," Mai said.

"You're welcome, bestie," you replied and slept with a wide smile on your face.

#jujutsu kaisen smut #naoya zenin x reader #zenin naoya x reader #naoya zenin #zenin naoya #stories of a concubine

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firstofficerwiggles · 3 years

Text

Chapter 6: Where No Mando Has Gone Before

Link to Chpt. 5 -- For other chapters please visit my Masterlist

Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: M/E, 18+ only

Warnings: SMUT, Flirty!Din, Jealous!Reader, swearing, kissing, use of blindfold, groping (in public), oral sex (female receiving), explicit description of unprotected sex (be safe in the real world please), still pretty fluffy though

Word count: ~12.5K (I know, but it’s worth it I promise)

Author’s Note: This takes place on Angel One a matriarchal planet from Star Trek, the Next Generation. While that episode of TNG is honestly not good, I have been intrigued by the idea of that planet and always thought they could have done so much more with it. (Btw, I do suggest you look at the costumes from that episode because they are hilarious.) So anyway, I’m pretending that Angel One is in the Star Wars galaxy. Also, in this I describe the women of this planet as being taller, broader, and generally much larger than the reader. I always try to keep the reader as physically non-descript as possible, so just know that no matter how tall and broad you yourself may be, to these women, you are petite. Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

For the third morning in a row, you awake to strong arms wrapped around you and the solid, warm body of Mando, or rather, Din, by your side. You’ve fully recovered from being shot, but Din has still been on high alert for any pain or discomfort that you could be feeling. He pretends to protest each evening that he should let you rest, before you easily convince him to climb into bed with you and cuddle all night long. Honestly, at first you thought he was just putting up with the cuddling to make you happy, but turns out, he seems to truly love it, as he is the one who continues to pull you closer any time you roll away in your sleep.

You’re lazily tracing circles with your fingers over his chest now as you think about him. He’s sleeping in a shirt and boxers, and even though you can’t touch the skin of his chest directly, you can feel his warmth easily through the thin fabric. He’s been so incredibly caring these past few days and he’s hardly let you lift a finger. Even when you’ve worried about him sleeping in his helmet and offered to sleep blindfolded so he could take it off, he’s dismissed the idea in favor of your comfort. Although part of you wonders if he’s still too nervous to consider taking off the helmet in front of you despite the presence of a blindfold or darkness.

You really are feeling so much better this morning, and you figure you’ll take over breakfast today. It would be nice to start getting back to your normal routine. You move to loosen yourself from Din’s hold and slide out of the bed, when you feel him stir and yank you back to his side.

“Where’re you goin’?” he asks you sleepily.

“I was going to make breakfast, and let you sleep a bit more,” you reply softly.

“Mmm, no, stay with me,” he says.

You shift a little so you can look at him more directly and tell him, “I’m so tempted, really, but you know someone else will be awake and hungry very soon.”

“Stay,” he repeats, “Wanna cuddle more.” You give in to him, and snuggle closer; it’s too hard when he’s insistent.

Din’s hands are starting to wander now, slipping just under the hem of your pajama top to caress your lower back. You let out a contented sigh at the feeling of his skin against yours.

“You must be feeling much better, if you want to make breakfast,” he says, sounding more awake, as he continues to trail his hands up your back under your top.

“I am, I feel completely better,” you reply confidently.

“Better enough to do other things?” Din asks with a husky tone to his voice as he brings one of his hands around to caress the upper part of your stomach, just below your breasts.

“I could do other things,” you say in a breathy voice; breakfast is now the last thing on your mind.

Din lets the hand on your stomach explore upward and over your breast, lightly palming you and teasing the sensitive tip. It’s been so long since a man touched you like this that it’s enough to make you moan softly. Din lets out a low rumbly sound in his chest and his hand becomes bolder, kneading you and rolling your hardening nipple between his fingertips. With his other hand, he pulls you in closer to him so that your hips brush up against his, letting you feel his arousal. Experimentally, you rock your hips against his, slightly grinding against him, drawing out another deep growling sound from Din’s throat.

“Been wanting to touch you like this ever since I got in bed with you,” he says.

“Me too,” you tell him as you let your own hands finally run up underneath his shirt and over the hard planes of his stomach and chest.

“You’re so soft- oof!” Din’s compliment is cut off by a sound of surprise and you realize why as soon as you see a little green head pop up over his shoulder. The sneaky kiddo has managed to climb up on the bed and his little claws must have grabbed Din’s arm to hoist himself up. Din immediately yanks his hand out of your top as the child meanwhile is crawling over Din’s chest to get to you. You scooch away from Din to make room for the little guy and also to discreetly put some distance between you two so that you can both calm down.

“Good morning, buddy!” You say a little overly cheerful, trying to come back to your senses. You look up at Din and mouth ‘sorry’. He just shakes his head lightly as he pats the child on the back.

“I think someone is a little jealous that I keep taking all the cuddles,” Din says with a chuckle, “Tell you what, I’ll make breakfast and you two have some snuggle time.”

“Aww, come here, buddy, and give me a hug,” you pull the child into your chest and kiss his wrinkled little brow. He lets out a series of happy coos making you laugh.

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

After breakfast, you get dressed and join Din in the cockpit where he’s putting in coordinates to a new destination. The child is sitting in one of the passenger seats playing with his silver ball. You come over to stand next to Din and look at the star chart he’s using.

“I’ve got an idea for our next move,” Din tells you, “But it will require us to carry out some deception for it to work.”

“Deception, huh? Well, I’m intrigued already,” you reply with a smile.

“I’ve heard from several of my guild contacts that the bounty on the child has increased,” he says concerned, “There’s also a bounty out on me too.”

“Oh, that explains the hunters.” Your voice is more serious now.

“It’s fortunate that no one in the guild will support the job, but although it’s an off-the-books bounty, the price is high enough that there’ll still be hunters after us.” Din explains.

“So what’s your plan and how can I help?” you ask.

“You’re an integral part of it, particularly since no one knows you’re with me,” he tells you, “Have you ever heard of a planet called Angel One?”

“No, never.”

“It’s a place that few people have visited,” he explains, “They have a matriarchal society and you’re only allowed to visit the planet if you’re accompanied by a woman.”

“Ah, I see, so no one will expect you to be there.” It’s a good idea.

“Yes, but there’s more,” Din says, “They’re very particular about whom they let stay on the planet for a visit, and from what I’ve heard they usually only let powerful or influential women visit for more than a day. Any potential visitors need to be fully vetted by one of their Mistresses to be allowed to stay.”

“Hence the deception; I need to pretend to be someone powerful or influential,” you respond.

“Yes, I thought you could pretend to be a princess and I’ll be your bodyguard,” Din proposes.

“A princess?” You reply, a touch startled by the idea.

“You’re as beautiful as a princess,” Din says, his voice flirtatious, “I’d definitely believe it.”

“Stop,” you say, rolling your eyes a little at him, “But, seriously, do you think I can pull that off?”

“Why not? You’re intelligent, well educated, and you seem to have a knack for socializing with people, you put them at ease and get them to trust you right away, I’ve seen you do it a lot.” Din compliments you in such a matter-of-fact voice that you find yourself thinking that just maybe you could do it.

“Well, and in your beskar you definitely look like a royal bodyguard,” you say thoughtfully, and then flirt back with him, “My knight in shining armor.”

He chuckles at that, “See, you’re already in character.”

“What if they notice that we’re…” you trail off and just gesture between you two with your hands. You’re uncertain how to define what you are, together? involved? You haven’t really discussed it.

“A couple?” he asks. Ok, so he’s defined it.

“Yes.”

Din thinks for a moment and then chuckles again deeply, “You’ll say I’m your consort.”

“My consort?” You snicker at his choice of words.

“Yeah, your consort,” he repeats, and you can swear by the tone of his voice that he must have the biggest grin on under that helmet right now. “I kinda like the idea, my job being to protect you and service your every, ahem, need.”

“Din, the kiddo is right there,” you whisper a little flustered at his suggestiveness.

“Come here, my princess,” he says playfully as he pats his lap.

“You’re having too much fun with this,” you tell him, but you move towards him anyway because you can’t help yourself.

He tugs you down to sit in his lap, “Oh, we’ve only just started having fun.”

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

The landing crew that meets you on Angel One is most decidedly not about fun. When you descend the Crest’s ramp, you are met with five of the largest warrior-like women you’ve ever seen in your entire life. They are all broad, muscular, and statuesque, decked out in black and gold armor on their arms, chests, and legs, and wearing capes decorated with animal fur. Their makeup is like war paint and they seem to share Din’s love of weapons. You can’t deny that they are all fiercely beautiful and you suddenly feel insecure. Geeze, no wonder Din wanted to come here, these women look like a Mandalorian’s wet dream. You take a deep breath and tell yourself that you are a beautiful and influential princess. You repeat this to yourself a few times and steady your shoulders as you do.

You hold your head up as high as you can and address the women, “Good morning and thank you for welcoming us to your home. We hope that your Mistress will find us worthy of a visit.”

One of the women nods to you as she says, “Right this way Your Highness, Mistress Lagertha is expecting you.”

You follow the woman as she leads you into a large governmental building. Both Din and the child follow behind you allowing you to be the more prominent figure in your little party. The building is a very grand stone structure with sweeping columns and polished stone floors. The furnishings are mostly dark, grey and black with a few metallic accents. You pass several people, all women, who stop to stare at you as you walk down the long corridor. When you reach the end of the passageway, you are ushered into a large office where you see a majestic blonde woman. While this woman is not wearing armor, she exudes power and once again, you are dwarfed by her size. She rises from her desk when you enter and offers you a small half bow.

“Welcome, Your Highness, please have a seat and we will begin the interview.” She pointedly addresses her welcome only to you as if Din isn’t even present. You approach her desk and the proffered chair, while he remains quietly by the door with the child’s pram.

“Thank you for being willing to speak with me, it’s an honor to meet you, Mistress Lagertha,” Now that you’re both seated you feel a little more confident as it’s easier to look her in the eye.

“It’s very interesting to meet you,” she says with a smile, “I’ve never seen an off-worlder before.” She looks over your appearance carefully. In helping to perpetrate your ruse, you’re wearing a summer dress in a pink floral fabric. The dress has a long swirly skirt and it seemed like the most princess-y thing you owned. You’ve also taken extra care to do your hair and make-up in a slightly fancier style. You even took the time to dress up the child as your little ward, wrapping a brightly colored scarf around his tunic like a sash and pinning a costume jewelry broach to it. He seemed to like it, once he stopped trying to bite it. Of course, Din is handsome as always in his well-polished armor and you think all together you should be able to fool these people who haven’t seen many real royals.

You’re surprised when she starts to laugh lightly after looking you over. “I’m sorry, it’s just, I wasn’t expecting you to look so manly.”

“Excuse me?” Your confusion could not be more evident as you look down at yourself. This is quite possibly the least manly you’ve ever looked.

“Well, I knew you would be small, those who’ve seen off-world women have always described them as small, but the pastels, the flowers, even your make-up, you look like one of our men.” She chuckles again lightly.

“Ah, I see,” you reply trying to keep your face neutral, “Where I come from, this would be considered very feminine.” She smiles widely at this and laughs again. Well, if anything you’ve certainly broken the ice.

“That’s hysterical!” She says, delighted, “Plus your man is wearing armor! I’ve never seen such a thing.”

Oh Maker! You really wish she wouldn’t laugh at Din. To his credit, Din makes no reaction whatsoever; he’s doing his silent suit of armor thing again.

She asks you a long series of biographical questions most of which are very easy to answer and require little to no lying at all. Thankfully, you and Din practiced speaking about your invented past and so when you do need to be untruthful it comes out naturally. The only time you feel you really slip up is when she asks you about your views on the New Republic.

“Well, clearly there is much we can learn about your culture and so much that we can share with you about ours,” you say diplomatically.

“I support the New Republic, but I wish they would be more persistent in going after former Imperials. There are still too many evil men out there wreaking havoc in the galaxy.” You can’t keep the bitterness out of your voice and you know you’ve dropped your polite expression in favor of a frown. Uh oh, probably should have given a more politically neutral answer.

Fortunately, Mistress Lagertha says, “A very good point. Men seems to be particularly bent towards doing evil.”

While you can’t agree with that blanket statement, it seems better to simply nod and continue with the interview. For the rest of the time, you try to be your most charming self and it seems to work, because you’re starting to feel like she’s almost a friend the more you converse. When she gets to the part about the reason for your visit, you have a more elaborate answer about cultural exchange prepared, but she says,

“Of course the reason for your visit must be the Jubilee of Astrid which begins this evening. It’s our most sacred and special time, and the most common time for off-worlders to request a visit.”

“Yes, I would be truly honored to be able to experience your sacred celebration,” you say in an awed tone. You have no idea what she is talking about, but this is clearly the answer she expects to hear.

“I understand as a princess there must be certain pressures on you, especially from familial demands,” Lagertha says.

“Yes, there are,” you agree with her demurely, but still clueless as to what she’s getting at.

“Well, you can be certain to have your prayers answered while you are here, and enjoy yourself immensely! May Astrid bless you!” She gives you a cheeky grin as she says this and her eyes flick back to Din for the first time in quite a while. “Incidentally, if your man isn’t up to the task, I’m sure we can find you a man who will find your uniqueness appealing.”

“I assure you that won’t be necessary, my guard is always prepared for any task,” you tell her. You’re still not sure of her meaning, but there’s something in the gleam in her eye that tells you that you only want to be with Din for whatever ‘tasks’ are involved in this holiday of theirs.

“Well, that’s good then.” She’s smiling at you again and then extends her hand, “Welcome to Angel One, we would be honored to grant you permission to stay on our planet for as long as you like.”

You grasp her large hand in your smaller one and give her a beaming (and relieved) smile as you thank her. You’ve successfully secured your visit.

A communication device on her desks beeps and she presses a small button, which allows a voice to state, “Mistress Sigrid wishes to meet the off-world princess.”

“Thank you, Brenna, please let her know that we’re ready for her at any time,” Lagertha replies. She then turns her attention back to you as she explains, “Mistress Sigrid is our leader, the Elected One, and I must confess she has been monitoring this meeting.” You nod and smile, it doesn’t surprise you really, considering how cautious they are about visitors.

“I am delighted to have the opportunity to meet her.” You hope this is a sign that you’ve made a good impression if their leader wants to say hello.

A door in a side wall opens and a stately woman enters. You rise to your feet out of respect as she approaches. She’s older than Lagertha but still moves with the athletic grace of a younger woman. Like the other women you’ve seen here, she is striking with shrewd eyes and a small scar on her cheek that adds to her mystique rather than marring her beauty.

“Your Highness, how lovely it is to meet you,” Mistress Sigrid greets you and reaches out to shake your hand.

“It is a pleasure, Elected One,” you reply, craning your neck to meet her gaze, as once again she is incredibly tall.

“I must say I have never seen or heard an off-world woman quite like you before,” she tells you with respect, “The others I’ve met have been rather anxious and shy, and so easily intimidated.” She dismisses them with a wave of her hand.

“It is a shame you haven’t met more off-world women then, many are quite strong and accomplished. Perhaps while I am here, I can demonstrate how capable we can be,” you reply. The way she says that irritates you immensely but you know you need to stay overly respectful towards her and so you swallow any other comments you’d like to make.

She laughs warmly at your response, “See, I knew I liked you already! You have a spark about you.”

“Thank you,” you say.

“And this is your little ward, hmm?” She walks over to the child who is starting at her with big eyes and a slightly wary expression.

“Yes, my guard rescued him and he is in my care.” You follow her over, reach down into his pram to pick him up, and hold him so she can see him better.

“Hello, tiny child,” she says to him, “Aren’t you a cute little thing?”

He looks mesmerized by her for a moment, and then is suddenly shy, turning his head into your chest. She merely chuckles and you gently place him back in his pram and hand him one of his stuffed toys to hold.

“Shame he’s a male though,” she comments. You don’t know how to respond to that terrible statement and so you elect to simply stay quiet.

“And this is your bodyguard, a Mandalorian.” Mistress Sigrid approaches Din now looking him up and down with curiosity. “I’ve never had the fortune to see a real Mandalorian, I’ve only heard stories,” she says with interest. It’s the most attention anyone has paid to Din this entire time.

“What do you call him?” Mistress Lagertha pipes up.

“Mando,” you tell her, knowing that you can’t share Din’s real name with anyone.

“Mando, will you turn around, I’d like to look at you,” Mistress Sigrid says, speaking to him directly. Something about her tone of voice rubs you the wrong way and you’re fortunate that she’s looking so intently at Din because you fail to hide your displeasure on your face.

Din complies with her request, rotating so she can look at him. He had heard that the women openly objectify the men on this planet and so he knows this is the type of treatment he can expect. It doesn’t really bother him too much as he’s used to people staring at him no matter where he is. He knows Mandalorians are unique and the beskar will always draw attention. He has to bite his lip though to keep from laughing at your expression as Mistress Sigrid ogles him. You look positively jealous.

“That is sufficient, Mando.” The Elected One seems to have gotten her fill.

“Mistress,” he replies softly.

“So unusual to see a man so large and wearing armor,” Mistress Sigrid is turning back towards you with a smile and a little shrug.

Din sees that you’ve managed to paste a bland smile back on your face as you tell her, “I’m so accustomed to it that it would be odd to see him in anything else.” He catches your eye and gives you a nod. It’s the only thing he can do to reassure you that everything is going well. Honestly, he’s so thankful that you were able to do all of the talking for this meeting. You handled all the questions so well and he knows you were able to be charismatic in a way he doesn’t think he ever could. It’s a real credit to your communication skills, especially as Mistress Sigrid is now inviting you to stay at the Elected One’s state residence.

“That is very kind of you, Mistress Sigrid,” you say, “But we wouldn’t want you to go to any trouble on our behalf.”

“Nonsense, it will be delightful to have you there,” she replies, “You will be my special guests for the Jubilee. I do hope you have something red to wear, it is the official color of the celebration.”

“As a matter of fact, I have just the dress,” you tell her.

Mistress Sigrid arranges for two of her staff to accompany you back to the Razor Crest so you can collect your things before they will take you to get settled at the state residence.

“I’ll see you tonight at the opening gala for the Jubilee, and may Astrid bless you!” Mistress Sigrid says before bidding you farewell for now.

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

The state residence is an elegant mansion and you have to remind yourself that you’re supposed to be a princess and so you shouldn’t be overly impressed by any of this. Still you can’t help letting your eyes wander over the beautiful furnishings and art. The mansion reflects much of what seems to be the core beliefs for this society, that women are strong fighters who have accomplished great things, while men are beautiful decorations. You haven’t seen any men in person yet, but in the artwork, they are portrayed as soft and fragile looking creatures with dainty features dressed primarily in flowery pastels, just like you at the moment.

Every woman you pass still stops to openly gawk at you and now you are even hearing laughter accompanied by hushed voices no doubt discussing your odd appearance. You try to ignore it, but you’re not used to being assessed like this so much. You look over to Din and wonder if this is what it’s like for him on a daily basis, not that people laugh at him, of course.

When you reach your room at the residence, you are astonished by the grandeur of the accommodations you’ve been given. Your ‘room’ is actually a large suite with a sitting room, bedroom, and elegant bathroom. After briefly showing you around, Mistress Sigrid’s staff finally leave you alone to rest and relax before the grand gala tonight.

“Thank the Maker!” you say flopping onto the giant four-poster bed. “I feel like I’ve been under a microscope this whole day.”

“Yeah, they really seem quite fascinated by you,” Din says chuckling. He hands the child a piece of fruit from the generous buffet of treats the Mistress’ staff has provided for you. The little guy chomps down on it quickly and you smile at his cuteness.

“I’d say they’re fascinated by us, or at least Mistress Sigrid sure was,” you say still a little miffed at the way she practically undressed Din with her eyes.

Din laughs again, “Your face when she was making me turn for her nearly had me in stitches,” he says.

“What do you mean?” you ask sitting up to look at him better.

He walks over to you and cups your cheek in his hand gently, “You looked rather jealous.” His voice is still full of mirth as he says this and you get the impression that he liked it, at least a little.

“I didn’t like the way she was treating you like an object,” you say reproachfully, but then you look up more directly at him, “Ok, but fine, maybe I was jealous too,” you admit.

“Cyar’ika, you don’t have to be jealous,” he says, “But it is kinda cute.” He’s still chuckling as he steps in between your legs and his hands move to your shoulders, squeezing them lightly.

“It’s hard not be when they’re all insanely giant, stunning, war goddess women,” you reply. Looking up at him thoughtfully, you say, “Seems like that would be just the kind of woman a Mandalorian would find incredibly attractive.” You can’t help the note of insecurity in your voice as you say that.

He shrugs his shoulders, “Not this Mandalorian, besides, I’m already with the most beautiful woman in the galaxy.” He taps your nose playfully as he says this and you smile back at him.

“You really do say the sweetest things, Din.”

“Only to you, cyar’ika.” He replies and you can hear the smile in his voice.

The sound of inquisitive coos interrupts your conversation, and you look over to the child. “Maybe they’ll let us visit the gardens for a while. I think the kiddo could use some fresh air.”

“That’s a good idea, especially because it sounds like our entire evening is already planned with their gala.” Din nods his head as he says this.

“I’m just going to change first, maybe if I put on something black they won’t stare as much,” you tell him.

“Ok, the kid and I’ll wait in the other room.”

You take a moment to hang up your gown for tonight as well as your black dress that you thought to bring too. You put a few of your other things away in the dresser in the room to help keep them organized, when you find a few things that have been provided for your stay, some soft robes, slippers, and a couple black satin sleep masks. Your mind instantly goes to a naughty place as you feel the soft material between your fingers. You slip it on over your eyes, blindfolding yourself completely.

“Hey, Din, come here and look what I found,” you say playfully. You hear him come back into the room.

“What? Oh.” Din’s voice seems to drop several octaves with just that one small sound. “Can you see anything with that on?”

“Not a thing,” you reply.

“Stay there and keep it on,” he tells you and you hear his footsteps approaching you until you can feel that he’s right in front of you.

“You really can’t see anything?” Din asks again.

“No, I promise.”

You hear a soft hiss followed by a metallic thunk on the dresser behind you. Then you feel Din pull you in close to him and he lowers his face towards yours, letting his bare forehead touch yours for the first time. He nuzzles into you more, letting his nose caress yours and then you feel his warm breath against your lips.

“May I kiss you, really kiss you?” Din asks his lips practically brushing against your mouth with his question.

“Yes,” you breathe out.

His lips melt into yours in a sweet kiss as his hands come up to rest on either side of your neck. He seems just a little hesitant, so you slowly start to move beneath him, guiding. He follows your lead, letting his lips explore more. You part your lips slightly so you can tease his plump bottom lip in between yours. He parts his lips when you do this and daringly, you let your tongue lick into his mouth just slightly. His reaction is immediate, as he opens his mouth more to give you greater access. You deepen the kiss and brush your tongue against his. He groans deep in his chest when your tongues meet and he pulls you in tight to his body. You let your hands roam around the back of his neck and into his soft hair. You’re kissing him passionately now, showing him what you like. Din’s response is enthusiastic, as he chases your lips and tongue wherever they wish to lead him. Just before you pull away to catch your breath, you give his bottom lip a suck making him groan again.

“Is kissing always this great?” Din pants out.

“No,” you tell him honestly, “I think it must you.”

“It’s us,” he says before capturing your lips again. This time he teases you with his tongue and tries sucking your lip the way you did to his. It draws out a moan from you; he’s clearly a very quick learner.

A sudden crashing sound from the other room reminds you both that you’re not alone and that you promised the child some outdoor fun. Din groans softly before giving you one more quick kiss and then pulls away from you. You feel him reach for his helmet as you try to take a deep breath and collect yourself.

“Ok, you can take off the mask now,” he says, “But, put it somewhere safe for later.”

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

After a nice afternoon spent exploring the mansion’s lush gardens, followed by a hot cup of tea and several delicious snacks that were thoughtfully provided, it’s time to get ready for the gala. You already know you’ll wear your new red gown, but you decide to go more avant garde with your hair and make-up to hopefully create a better impression on the women tonight. It’s a good look, but something is missing that will give you a certain edge that you want to achieve. You look through your meager jewelry collection but nothing gives off the right vibe. You look over to where the child is playing with Din and you have an idea.

“Buddy, can I borrow your mythosaur for tonight?” You ask the little one. He smiles up at you and gives you his happy coo. You gently take the necklace off him and drape it over your head. The silver pendant comes to rest just above your cleavage, and it’s perfect, much better for the darker image you’re trying to achieve.

You turn with a flourish towards Din, “Well, what do you think? Still a princess but maybe more to the standards of this place?”

Din cannot respond to you because his mouth has gone completely dry. He thinks you look outstanding in that sexy dress that he bought you and then, it’s made even better because you’re wearing his mythosaur around your neck. Fuck! He looks at it sparkling against your bosom, it’s like you’ve put on a giant sign that says you belong to him. It creates a primal reaction in him and it’s taking all his self-control not to grab you and claim you as his right now.

“Din? Is it too much?”

“No, I like it,” Din practically growls at you, “I like it so much, I’m thinking I’d like to pull you back into that bedroom and show you how much I like it.”

“Di-in,” you stretch out his name as you can feel your cheeks blazing with his praise and it makes you giggle a little. He’s never been so outrageously direct like that before.

“I’m serious,” he says, “That’s how good you look. In fact you better pick up the baby to keep me in check.” He’s teasing you now, but his voice still sounds predatory. Your heart is racing and he’s making you feel lightheaded.

“Stop, you’re being naughty,” you flirt back at him, but you do pick up the child in any case. As much as you’d much rather stay in the bedroom with him, you know you have an obligation to go to this gala tonight. And as if on cue, there is a knock at your door.

Mistress Sigrid is there and for the first time, there are men with her. The men are much smaller in stature, dressed in soft pastel colors and wearing make-up that resembles what you had on earlier today. You notice that one of the men is more conservatively dressed, while the other is wearing a rather revealing outfit with a dramatic deep vee neckline that practically screams ‘boy toy’. You’ve never seen anything quite like it. Both men clock you with big eyes and smiles, like the women, they appear to be amused by you too, only at least they don’t laugh out loud. When they glance at Din, however, their smiles falter and they seem taken aback at his presence. You wonder if Din looks somehow feminine to them going by their standards. Your thoughts are interrupted by Sigrid before you have more time to consider the men.

“Good evening, Your Highness, you look festive,” she says, but from her tone it doesn’t exactly sound like a compliment. She is also wearing red, but instead of a gown, she has on a sharply tailored suit, almost like a red tuxedo.

“Thank you.” You just smile at her diplomatically.

“Gregor is here to collect your little ward for the evening to take him off to the nursery to play with the other children and provide him with a nice place to sleep for the night.” She motions to the more conservatively dressed man who is smiling and waving at the child.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting that, he usually just accompanies me everywhere,” you respond. Although Gregor seems nice enough, you feel reluctant at leaving the little guy with someone else.

“Nonsense, you don’t want to bring a child to the gala tonight. It isn’t done.” Sigrid declares.

“Well, I need to see the nursery first, before I decide if I’m going to let him stay there.” You want to be certain you and Din know exactly where the child will be and how to get to him quickly in case of an emergency.

“I suppose,” Sigrid sighs, but then she smiles at you again, “There’s that feisty spark I saw in you earlier.”

Gregor motions for you to follow him, “This way Your Highness,” he says in a shy voice.

“Gregor, do you take care of many children?” You would like to know more about his background.

“Oh, yes, I am the nanny for all of the mistresses on the High Council for any of their children under age 5.” He smiles warmly at you, “They will all be there tonight too, so your little one will have plenty of other children to play with; there’s about a dozen all together.”

“Is it just you taking care of all of the children?” That seems like too many for just one person.

“No, no, I have three assistants too,” Gregor says, “You’ll be able to meet them at the nursery.”

You continue to pepper Gregor with questions about childcare and the nursery and he seems positively delighted with all the attention you’re paying towards him. You sometimes hear Sigrid let out a sigh as if she finds the entire conversation boring, but you don’t care, after all the child is your primary priority. When you arrive at the nursery, you can see that everything is quite nice and it does seem like a safe place for the little guy to spend the evening. You kiss him goodbye and Din pats him on the head and gives him a soft reminder that he should be on his best behavior.

“Oh isn’t that cute!” The boy-toy guy coos as he watches you and Din say goodnight to the child. It’s the first you’ve heard him speak.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t ask you your name earlier,” you say to him as you’re leaving the nursery, “I didn’t mean to be rude, I was just very focused on the child, you understand.”

“Well aren’t you sweet, Your Highness,” he says beaming at you, “I’m Trent, I’m Mistress Sigrid’s lover.” He seems very proud of that fact.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Trent,” you reply with a nod. You slip your hand around Din’s elbow deciding that they already seem to know you two are a couple, so you might as well feel free to show a little affection. You tilt your head towards Din as you say, “This is Mando.”

“I know,” Trent says giggling a little, “The man in armor, it’s so shocking.” Trent sounds both amused and a little scandalized. “It’s super nice to meet you, Mando. I can’t wait to hear more about you and your princess at dinner. You’re all anyone is talking about.” He winks and flashes his dazzling white teeth.

“Nice to meet you,” Din says. His voice and body language don’t give anything away but you wonder if he’s a little taken aback by Trent’s enthusiasm.

“Yes, the men will have plenty of time to get to know one another during the feast since they’ll be sitting together at their table,” Sigrid explains, and then addresses you directly, “You’ll be with me at the head table with all the other mistresses of the High Council.”

“Oh, you don’t sit together as couples?” With the insinuations that Mistress Lagertha made earlier about the Jubilee, it seemed like this was going to be an event for couples or at least dates.

“Not during the dinner,” Sigrid tells you, “It gives us women time to have serious discussions while the men can chatter about lighter things. Trust me, your Mando will have a much better time conversing with the other men. He won’t miss you at all.” You doubt that, but say nothing and simply grip Din’s arm a bit tighter as a way of silently communicating with him.

“Besides,” she continues, “You’ll have plenty of time to sit together during the entertainment.”

“Ooh, it’s going to be so good this year too,” Trent says, “My best friend is one of the performers and he’s been filling me in on all the juicy details. I’ll tell you all about it, Mando.” Oh my, seems Din’s made a new friend already.

“Just be sure you don’t spoil it for him though, Trent,” Sigrid says patting his shoulder.

“Oh, I won’t,” Trent beams up at her. He reminds you a bit of an eager puppy just so happy to please her in any way.

At last, you come to a large room festooned with red, black, and gold decorations and several round dining tables. The table in the middle of the room is the biggest and it is raised up on a dais so that it is more visible across the entire room. There are several people milling about with glasses of wine and a few servers passing appetizers throughout the space. You’re thankful to see that several of the women are also wearing red gowns, so at least you’re not the only one in a dress. But once again, your attire is much more feminine by your standards. Where your gown is more revealing and designed to show off the curves of your figure, theirs have long sleeves and high necklines designed to showcase their muscular frames. The men are almost all dressed like Trent in soft pastels of varying colors with revealing tops that show off their chests and very tight pants that show off other assets. As you enter the room with Mistress Sigrid, a gong sounds to announce your arrival and every eye that wasn’t already staring at you is suddenly on you as a hush comes over the room.

“Good Evening, all!” Mistress Sigrid’s voice booms out, “I am pleased to welcome you to this year’s opening gala of the Jubilee of Astrid, may she bless you all!” Cheers and applause follow this statement. Sigrid holds up her hand and waits for everyone to quiet again.

“Tonight we welcome our special guests, a princess and her Mandalorian!” Polite applause follows this along with several whispers and small bouts of laughter. You smile placidly at the room and nod your head in greeting.

“Take your seats and let’s begin the feast!” Sigrid announces and the cheering and applause build back up.

“C’mon, Mando I’ll show you where our table is,” Trent motions.

“Just a moment,” Din replies, before turning to you and dropping his helmet to your forehead, his voice is low so that only you can hear it as he says, “Have a good dinner, cyar’ika.”

“I’ll see you later,” you whisper back to him and give his hands a squeeze before being led away by Sigrid.

“You two are very affectionate with one another, I think you’re going to enjoy tonight’s festivities quite a lot,” Sigrid says smirking at you.

At the table, she introduces you to all of the mistresses seated there, most of whom look you over with amusement and curiosity. There are a few though who seem displeased by your presence and they openly frown at you. You suppose it is due to your off-worlder status more than anything else, but you sincerely hope you haven’t made some type of social gaff that may have offended them. You look over to the men’s table and notice that Din has positioned himself so that he is seated in your direct line of sight. It puts you at ease knowing that you can look up at any time and see that familiar helmet and visor.

One of the younger mistresses, Eira, seems the most interested in you and she seems to be one of the friendliest so you strike up a conversation with her. She tells you about her background as a professional fighter, and how that fame brought her into the arena of politics. You’re telling her a little bit about your travels with Din, when one of the other mistresses, Runa, pipes up,

“Yes, tell us all about the Mandalorian.”

“Well, he’s an incredibly skilled fighter, very brave, and I trust him with my life,” you say, thinking that’s what will most likely impress them.

“No, no,” Runa says, “Tell us about your relationship with him. And not just the lovey-dovey stuff, the good stuff.”

“The good stuff?” you repeat, rather surprised.

“Yeah, like what’s it like sleeping with a man who’s so large?” Eira asks, apparently also curious to hear about Din.

“Well, it’s great,” you tell them, “He’s very big and strong and I like the way it makes me feel when I’m in his arms.” You know you’re being liberal with the definition of ‘sleeping with’ here but they don’t need to know that.

“Huh?” Eira responds, “It just seems so weird. I like my men the smaller the better, like I can just wrap myself around their whole body.” The other women nod along with her and several look at you like you must be crazy.

“I suppose that’s just one of the differences between our cultures, but I would say that where I come from, people are very accepting of all different types of bodies and partners. I’m sure there are women from my society who prefer smaller men like you do.” Eira smiles at you when you say this.

“Yes, but when you say big, is he big everywhere?” Runa asks you pointedly and motions with her hands holding them side by side and then expending them outward little by little.

You laugh at loud at that, especially because of the alarmed look on her face as her hands get wider apart. You notice too that now the entire table is waiting for your answer, so much for Sigrid’s ‘serious discussions’. You smile, amused by their interest, and you can’t help but glance over at Din for a moment before you tell them,

“He is very well endowed.” You might not have direct knowledge of that, but from the time you saw him after swimming and the times you’ve felt him against you lately, you know your answer is correct.

“But doesn’t that, you know, hurt you?” Runa wants to know. Her face is very concerned and you do all you can to keep from laughing again so that she won’t think you rude.

“No, it doesn’t hurt,” you tell her, “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Tell us more about him as a lover,” Lagertha says, her voice loud as it carries across the table. You cringe a bit internally at that because you know that the men’s table has to have heard her. You look right at Din and he tips his helmet in a way that you know means ‘really?’ and you give him a slight shrug in response.

Maker, what can you say to these horny women? Your experience with him is so limited as it is. You decide to just go off of what you do know and then let your imagination fill in the gaps. You figure as long as you keep them entertained with this, they’ll be less likely to ask you any other questions about your invented background that could potentially poke holes in your story. So you tell them all about how generous Din is as a lover, that he’s tender and caring, but then able to be harder and rough when you want him to be. You make him out to be a complete sex god for these women and they are entranced.

“Well, then, it seems like you have the perfect partner for the Jubilee,” Sigrid says chuckling, “I’m sure he’ll get you pregnant.”

You choke on your wine as she says this. What the hell?

“Of course he will, you don’t have to worry,” Eira says and she pats your arm supportively, “After all, that is the point of a fertility festival and Astrid is sure to bless you even if you’re an off-worlder.”

Sweet Maker above! You can only imagine what the rest of this Jubilee will entail.

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

You and Din are finally able to be back together after the dinner. It feels like a relief to have him place his hand on the small of your back as you both follow everyone to a large ballroom where the entertainment is scheduled to begin soon.

“So, what am I like as a lover?” Din leans down to ask you discreetly, his voice is teasing though.

“I knew you had to have heard that,” you say embarrassed, “But these crazy horny women just wouldn’t stop asking me about you.”

“It was the same for me,” he tells you, “All the men wanted to hear about how we fell in love.”

You laugh as you tell him, “Oh no, the women only wanted to hear about sex. But I am curious to know what you told the men.”

“And I’m curious to hear what you told the women,” Din replies.

“Well, obviously I had to do some speculating, but in essence I told them you were a very generous and highly-skilled lover, oh, and that you’re very large.” You wink at him as you say this and give him your most flirtatious smile.

Din pulls you in closer to him and tilts his head down to tell you, “I think that’s a fairly accurate description but I’d much rather you’d experience it first-hand instead of just taking my word for it.” You shiver in anticipation at that.

“Ok, now, what did you tell the men?” You’re very interested to hear this.

“I told them the truth, that you’re the most beautiful, kind, and caring woman I’ve ever known, that you make my life so much better, and that I couldn’t stop myself from falling for you, I also told them that you’re a wonderful kisser.” He says this so sincerely that your heart swells with happiness.

You drop your voice to a whisper so that there’s no way anyone will overhear you use his name, “Din, that’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard,” you have to pause for a moment to collect yourself before you tell him, “I hope you know that you make my life so much better too.” You want to tell him more but it’s too public here.

“Thank you for telling me, cyar’ika,” he replies, his voice sounding warm even in a whisper.

Speaking of romantic, the ballroom is set up like a large cabaret with small tables for couples all around, only instead of chairs, each table has a rounded booth with a high back, positioned to face the large open area in the front of the room. As couples start to be seated, you can see that there’s quite a bit of privacy for each table despite the large number of attendees.

“Trent said we can sit wherever we like, but I get the impression we should pick something near the performance area so they’ll think we’re really interested in the show,” Din tells you. You find a table in the second row with a good view of the stage area. The booth is very comfortable and you lean into Din as he places his arm around your shoulders.

“Did Trent give you details about the show?”

He groans slightly, “Yes, probably too many, the best I can tell you is that we’re going to see an erotic celebration designed to honor their goddess, Astrid.”

“Ah yes, I found out something else about this celebration,” you tell him, “This whole Jubilee is a fertility festival; everyone thinks we’re here so that you’ll get me pregnant, that’s what they mean when they say ‘may Astrid bless you’.” Your face feels hot as you inform him of this.

“Well, I’ll certainly give it my all, cyar’ika,” Din tell you, his voice sounding deeper.

“Very funny,” you reply, “I have an implant in any case.”

“Still, practice does make perfect,” he says, laughing, “And the thought does intrigue me.” You giggle in response to that and then start to quiet down as the lights dim.

Truthfully, Din is more than intrigued by the idea. The men also filled him in on the purpose of this holiday during the dinner and he has been thinking about it ever since. Honestly, he hasn’t been able to stop thinking of taking you to bed all day, and his arousal has only been growing. While impractical, the idea of seeing you pregnant with his child is appealing to him in ways he never knew were possible. The reality of how much he wants that someday with you is so strong it’s almost overwhelming to him. In the past, the idea of becoming attached to someone never interested him; the women that he met were good for a sexual release but they were never anyone he wanted to spend time with outside of the bedroom. But with you, everything looks different, feels different, and he wants things he’s never wanted before.

Din’s thoughts are interrupted by the arrival of several dancers, male and female, who have started their performance. He watches a bit at first but then becomes bored and turns his attention back to you. He likes the way you’re cuddled up to him, he’s glad you’re not shy about showing him affection in public. Din is also enjoying watching your face and your reactions as you watch the performance unfold. You seem enthralled until you notice his visor is turned toward you instead of the dancers.

“Is everything alright?” you ask, blinking up at him. He simply gives your shoulder a squeeze and nods.

He keeps looking at you instead of the performance though until he sees your eyes widen and you gasp. Din turns his attention back to the dancers to see that they are removing most of their clothing to reveal their bodies. The dancers then start to pair off and dance together in what can only be described as the most sexual dancing Din has ever seen. There is grinding, thrusting, and a lot of groping. Turns out Trent was right about it being an erotic spectacle. He chuckles a bit to himself at the description and really, it’s nothing worse than some of the pornographic holovids he’s seen before. He looks down at you however and notices that you have become a little restless next to him. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the dancers and he sees your tongue come out to wet your lips as you watch. This is turning you on, he realizes. As he glances around the room to see if anyone is paying attention to you, he notes that several of the couples in the booths have started to put on their own performances, so to speak, and no one is interested in the two of you anymore. Never a man to let an opportunity pass by, Din decides to take full advantage of the situation and he reaches over and pulls you into his lap.

“Din, what are you doing?” You gasp, surprised by his actions.

“Shh, cyar’ika, look around,” he tells you. You look over at the other booths to see that most everyone else is making out all around you.

“Oh”

“It’s ok, keep watching the dancers, I can tell you like it,” Din says as his arms wrap around you. He holds you like that for a moment as you continue to watch the performers simulate various sexual acts. But before long his hands begin to wander, starting by running his fingers lightly over your collarbone. He traces the line of your necklace down to the mythosaur and then brushes against the tops of your breasts just along the edge of your bodice. Din hears you let out a small whine as he touches you and it emboldens him to palm one of your breasts fully. Between the layers of fabric of your dress and his gloves, it’s only a tease, but as he continues to grope you, he can hear the pace of your breathing increase. Din wants more and his hand finds the long slit in your dress allowing him to run his fingers up your thigh. He can feel your warmth as he gently kneads your flesh. Each movement he makes seems to elicit a small sound from you and he’s eager to hear more. Din slowly makes his way higher up your skirt thinking he’ll just tease the edges of your panties or maybe touch you over them, when he realizes he’s not finding any.

“Oh, my naughty girl, are you not wearing anything under this dress?” Din asks.

“Didn’t seem necessary,” you whisper to him.

He lets his fingers lightly explore between your legs, and when he can feel how wet you are already he can’t keep himself from letting his hand become more bold. He runs two of his fingers through your damp folds and up to the small bundle of nerves that he knows will bring you the most pleasure. Din feels you shudder against him as he circles your clit before bringing his fingers back down. The movement makes you shift your hips over his making you grind against his cock and he lets out a deep groan. It’s more than he can take and he says,

“We’re going back to room, now.”

“But, the show is still going on,” you say a little worried about being rude to your hostess.

“No one will miss us,” Din insists, “Let’s go.”

You quickly slide out of the booth following Din and he grabs your hand to hustle you to the exit. He’s right that no one seems to notice you at all, except for one other couple that is also sneaking out early. Din and you practically run back to your room, but once you get inside all you can do is stand there for a moment looking at each other.

“I want to make love to you,” Din says, his voice deep, “Please tell me you want that too.”

“I do, so much,” you reply.

He sweeps you into his arms and brings his helmet down to your forehead, as he asks, “Can we use the sleep mask? I really want to kiss you again and be able to use my mouth on your body.”

“Yes, but can we get undressed first?” you ask, “Because I’d like to see your body for a bit before.”

“Absolutely,” Din replies and he starts to pull off his armor. You have a lot less to remove, so with a simple whoosh of fabric, you’re standing before him in only your bra and his mythosaur necklace. You unhook the bra and toss it aside.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Din says, as he yanks at his own clothing in an attempt to be faster. You reach to lift the necklace off, when Din stops you, “No, don’t, I’d like it if you’d leave that on.”

“Oh?”

“I like seeing it on you, especially when it’s the only thing you have on,” he rasps out.

He’s finally almost totally naked except for his boxers and his helmet. Din can see you are transfixed with the way you are practically hopping from foot to foot in anticipation. It makes him smile how enthusiastic you are to see him. He slows his movements to draw out the moment and watches your face intently as he leisurely lowers the boxers from his hips. He sees your eyes widen and he chuckles as your mouth makes the most adorable little ‘o’.

“Wow, Din, you are the gorgeous one,” you reply practically in awe, “And I was right, you are large.”

Din chuckles at that comment, “I’m glad you like the view.”

“I don’t think I could ever get tired of it,” you say as you walk closer to him and as soon as you are in arms reach, Din pulls you to him so he can finally feel you. The sensation overwhelms him and all he can do is hold you there reveling in the feeling of your naked body against his. He lets out a loud groan from deep in his chest.

“I never thought this could feel so good,” Din breathes out. You shift against him and he groans again, “Please can we get the blindfold now? I need to kiss you.”

You pull away from him to reach into the nightstand drawer where you stashed the sleep mask. You take one last long look at his nude form before giving him an appreciative smile and slipping the mask on over your eyes. Not a second later, you hear a clunk as the helmet hits the floor and then Din is on you. He kisses you like he’ll never get another chance again, so full of passion and desire that it makes your head spin. His kiss is so all consuming that you don’t even realize that he’s picked you up and carried you to the bed, until he’s lying you back onto the soft cover. Din breaks the kiss just for a moment so that he can climb on top of you and come to rest comfortably between your spread legs.

Din could kiss you forever if you would let him. He loves the way your lips mold to his and the feeling of your tongue tasting his. He only pulls away to let you both catch your breath slightly before he’s back, trying to kiss you with even more fervor each time. Finally, you break the kiss so that you can explore more and the soft feel of your lips on his neck is magical. You find a sensitive spot just under his ear that makes him moan with pleasure. That moan quickly turns into a growl though as you use your teeth to nip at the spot.

“Ah, cyar’ika, let me try that on you,” he says, moving so that he has better access to your neck. Like you, he starts with soft kisses before biting into your neck to mark you as his. You’re more vocal than he is, letting out little mewls and whines of pleasure the more he kisses and sucks on your skin. He works his way down your neck to your chest, kissing and nipping at you the entire way. Finally, he’s at your breasts and Din does something he’s been dreaming of forever. He takes your hardened nipple into his mouth, pleasuring the sensitive peak with his tongue.

“Din!” you cry out his name and arch your back beneath him from how wonderful it feels. You can’t keep still as he suckles you. You run your fingers through his thick, wavy hair and then down his strong shoulders. When he tries out his teeth on your breast, you scratch your fingernails down his back. You feel his responding groan vibrate against your chest before he lifts his head from you,

“Do that again, cyar’ika, I liked it,” he tells you before switching to your other nipple to lavish it with the same mind-blowing pleasure. You rake your fingernails down his back again and again, as you writhe beneath him. It feels so good but yet, it isn’t enough.

“Please, Din, please,” you beg him.

He pulls off your breast with a soft pop of his lips, “Please what?” he asks you, his voice sounding amused.

“Touch me,” you pant out, “Please.”

“I am touching you,” Din teases and he drops his head back down so he can lick in between your breasts and down your stomach. “Or do you want me touch you somewhere else? Maybe here?” He licks and nibbles just above your belly button.

“Yes, but lower,” you say.

“How about here?” Din kisses lower, near your hipbone.

“Din!” Your voice comes out as a whine and he chuckles, Maker, he’s such a tease.

You feel him shift his body down and even though you can’t see him, you know he’s looking right at your pussy. You wait in anticipation of his touch and then start to wonder, as he doesn’t move.

“Din?”

“Just enjoying the beautiful sight,” he says, his voice full of desire. He waits just a beat more and then you feel his tongue moving through your wet folds.

You shudder and let out a loud moan as he licks you. He’s moving so slow, like he’s trying to savor you, and it feels wonderful but it’s also so maddening.

“Please, please more,” you beg him, your voice shaky in your need.

Din is happy to oblige you and he lets his tongue begin to explore you in earnest. His hands are splayed on each of your thighs as his mouth moves over you. As he licks you higher, he holds your lips open with his thumbs so he can have better access to your clit. Each time he lets his tongue brush over the little pearl, you cry out. He keeps this up for a bit, tormenting you, until he finally latches his lips around it and sucks your clit into his mouth. You cry out his name so loudly when he does that and you thrust your hands into his hair gripping it tightly.

The sensation makes him groan and he’s pleased when you do it again. The more he suckles and tongues your clit, the harder you tremble against him and he has to push down on your hips to keep you still. He pulls away from you for just a moment and lets his thumb draw circles on your clit in place of his tongue.

“You’re the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted, cyar’ika,” he tells you, “Wanted to do this for so long, so much better than I could have imagined.”

All you can do is moan in response because the mounting pleasure has robbed you of all logical thought. Din dives back into you, licking his tongue around your entrance before he pushes the muscle inside you. You cry out again and you grip his hair even tighter as your orgasm begins to close in on you. You feel yourself surging higher and higher, your thighs pushing tight around his head, until suddenly you are at the peak, feeling the most sublime pleasure as you gush on his tongue.

Din slows his movements as he lets you come down from your high, but he wants more. He’s waited so long to be here, he’s going to take his time until you’re begging him to stop. He lifts his mouth from you so that he can suck two of his fingers into his mouth, wetting them thoroughly.

“Is that really the first time you’ve done that?” You’ve regained enough composure to ask him.

“Yes,” he says, chuckling.

“If you get any better, you might kill me,” you tell him still sounding rather breathless.

“Well my darling, I’m not stopping yet,” Din replies as he pushes one long finger into you and drops his head back down to tongue your clit again. The high-pitched cry you let out makes him smile against you and he sees what he can do to hear it a second time. He can feel you flutter around his finger and he can’t believe how tight you are. He knows it’ll be easier for you to take his cock if he can make you come a couple more times on his fingers first. He slowly adds his second finger to you before he starts pumping them into you at a steady pace while licking and sucking your clit the entire time. He just barely crooks his fingers upward to brush the top of your walls when you’re coming apart again, shuddering so hard you almost buck him off you.

“Ahhh! Din, how’re you doing th-at, fe-feels so go-od,” you try your best to praise him but you can barely get the words out.

“Does it, cyar’ika? Does it feel good what I’m doing to you?” Din asks as he keeps his fingers working within your body. You clench around him hard.

“Talk to me,” you pant out, “like it so much.”

“You want me to talk to you, tell you how wonderful you feel around my fingers, how hot and wet you are?” Din replies and all you can do is moan in response.

“Mmm, you came so nice and hard for me before, gripped me so well, I can’t wait to feel you around my cock, going to feel fucking amazing.” The more Din talks dirty to you the more you cry out and thrust your hips against him.

“You really like this, don’t you, my fingers stretching you out, getting you nice and ready for me,” Din’s voice is so deep that the tone is doing just as much to pleasure you as his words do. “Tell you what, I’m going to keep this up and I’m going to suck on that beautiful little clit of yours until you come again for me.” And with that, his mouth returns to his favorite spot.

All you can do is cry out his name as the pleasure burns through your body. It’s so strong that you feel tears welling up in your eyes and you’re shaking all over from the sheer delight of his actions. It feels as if you are being tossed on a sea of pleasure, rising and falling with each wave, until finally you reach the largest wave of them all and it crashes over you. You lay there boneless and panting until Din finally stops and kisses his way back up your body before finally lying down next to you.

When you finally feel your breathing calm, you reach for him and bring him into a passionate kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. He moans his approval and rolls over on top of you.

“Wait,” you say breaking the kiss, “Don’t you want me to touch you? I’d love to taste you too.”

“I’d like that, cyar’ika, but some other time,” Din says, “Right now, I need to be inside you.”

In response, you widen your legs for him and draw them up to frame his hips, “I want that too, Din.”

“Tell me again, please,” he says as you feel his cock glide over your folds spreading your wetness all over him.

“I want you, Din, I need to feel you inside me, I need you to make love to me,” you tell him, your voice full of emotion.

“Oh, ner cyar’ika,” Din says before he kisses you and begins to push into your narrow passage. Even with as wet and ready as you are for him, he wants to go slowly both so he can be sure not to hurt you and so that he can enjoy every moment of this first time.

You gasp into his mouth as he gradually stretches you open; you saw how big he is, but feeling him now, he seems enormous, but the sensation is amazing. He’s unhurried as he lets your body adjust to him and you feel nothing but pleasure as he continues to push forward. You know he’s been delaying his own pleasure this entire time that he’s been devoted to you and you marvel at his control now. Finally, he is completely sheathed within you and he breaks the kiss so he can let out a moan. He drops his forehead to yours and just stays there without moving. You let your inner muscles flutter around him as you enjoy the feel of him deep within you. He moans again.

“You little minx, do it again,” he says before kissing you anew. So you do, you tighten and release him almost like you’re trying to pull him deeper inside of you. You do it again and again until finally he starts to withdraw from you to begin thrusting. Din continues to move at a languid pace, allowing you to feel every delicious inch of him as he brushes your walls. Every time he reaches the deepest point inside you, you clench around him as tight as you can, in a vain effort to keep him there.

“Din, you’re so good, I love the way you feel,” you tell him.

“You’re perfect, cyar’ika, you’re so tight and hot and perfect,” he says and he starts to roll his hips into yours so that he strokes firmly on the most pleasurable part inside you as he pulls out. It makes you cry out his name.

“I love the way you say my name, my wonderful girl,” Din praises you and you wish you could compliment him back but he’s making you forget how to speak it’s so good, and all you can do is repeat his name.

Din reaches down to shift your legs higher on his hips and it changes your position so that he can thrust even deeper into you. He feels you lock your legs around his narrow waist and he adores it. He feels so close to you; it’s the most intimate sex has ever been for him. He wants to tell you how great it is but all he can get out are a string of random words of praise. He knows he’s getting close, but he wants you to come one more time before he does. He slides his hand between the two of you so he can reach your clit and he circles it roughly as he begins to piston into you at a fast pace.

“Yes, Din, yes, right there, don’t stop!” you call out to him. His hips are rocketing against yours now and you know you’re almost to another climax. You feel your thighs start to quake with your release and you know it will be a strong one.

“Please, please cyar’ika, come for me,” Din begs you and his voice urging you on is what you needed. You feel yourself explode and everything feels white hot as you clench hard around him. Din thrusts twice more before his own orgasm overtakes him and he spills himself deep within you, his cock pulsing. He shudders above you and his arms give out, making him sink his full weight into you. It feels wonderful and you wrap your arms around him to hold him tight.

When you can breathe again, you tell him, “Din, that was so amazing, I don’t even have the words, just incredible.”

“For me too,” he pants out as he is still catching his breath. You let him relax as you run your hands over his back gently. Eventually though, he picks up his head and kisses you so sweetly.

“I had no idea that anything could ever feel this wonderful,” Din tells you, and he kisses you again before rolling to the side and snuggling next to you with his head nestled in the crook of your neck and his hand resting on your stomach.

“So did I live up to the reputation you gave me as a lover?” Din asks, his voice flirty and teasing.

“Oh, you surpassed it,” you reply, “You are even better than the sex god, I described.”

“Ah, sex god, I like it,” he laughs, “Feel free to call me that any time.”

“Should I tell, Sigrid, to announce you as such tomorrow?” you laugh with him.

“Absolutely, may I present to you her Royal Highness and her Sex God.” He’s still chuckling and shaking the bed with his laughter. He calms down for a moment and he lets his hand trace lazy circles on your stomach before it comes to rest just below your belly button.

“So?” Din drawls, “Do you think you were blessed by Astrid?”

“I think modern science may have thwarted her in that,” you respond with a giggle.

“Hmm, maybe I should try again?” Din replies as he turns you to face him and pulls your leg over his hip. You’re surprised to feel that he’s already hard again as he grinds himself against you.

“I suppose you should,” you tell him encouragingly and you find his lips again in an adoring kiss.

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

Thank you again so much for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Go to Chapter 7: The Mando Games

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avintagekiss24 · 4 years

Text

SUNBEAMS & RHYTHMS || STEVE ROGERS; BUCKY BARNES

pairing: Steve Rogers x blind!black!reader x Bucky Barnes || word count: 5,414 || warnings: mentions of depression, mentions of anxiety, mentions of insomnia, mentions of suicidal/dark thoughts, mentions of surgery/side effects of surgery (seizures/medications), smut, sex, threesome (m/m/f), polyandry/polyamory || challenge: @jbbarnesnnoble mental health awareness month writing challenge - “the warmth of the sun fell over you like a blanket in the middle of winter.”

author’s note: this was such a great challenge, but please heed the warnings! we’re dealing with some sensitive issues in this one. I hope you guys like, and I also hope that I’ve handled this correctly! this is my first time writing a disabled reader. let me know what you think please :) and thank you all so much for all of the love since I've been back from my little hiatus! major inspiration from this post. I’m also getting used to a new laptop, so if there’s any weirdness in this post that’s why, lmaooo. okay, I'm done talking, enjoy!

The room is shrouded in darkness - but not that you’d notice anyway. Your body is covered by the thick duvet thrown over the bed, your face buried in your hands. A splitting headache forces your eyes closed, but you’re used to them. The headaches. They started a few years ago, out of nowhere - you just thought it was stress, or, maybe not getting enough sleep at night. You didn’t pay them any attention at first.

They got worse. They got to the point where you couldn’t get out of bed. Your vision would get blurry. Steve suggested a doctor - you said no, it’s just a migraine. You’d be fine. He insisted after a few more months went by, and your headaches got worse, your vision worse.

You still remember it like it was yesterday. You sat there, stunned into silence. Your whole body numb. Steve grabbed your left hand, Bucky your right, as the room started to spin - the doctor's voice fading away as she spoke. Brain tumor. It was so large now that it was pressing on your optic nerves, making you slowly go blind. Within months, purples and greens and blues and pinks were all replaced by nothing. Not even black - it was just nothing.

The last clear thing you remember seeing were the tears in Steve’s eyes and Bucky’s metal arm thrown over your hip as he held you tight. You had to squint to make everything out, but Steve’s eyes were shiny - cloudy - as the emotion trickled down his cheeks. You wiped them away slowly with your thumb as you tried to etch his face in your mind so you’d never forget it. You wanted each line, each crinkle, each little freckle to be ingrained in you. You’d already spent hours staring at Bucky, doing the same.

You made them smile - soft ones, toothy ones, lopsided ones, just so you could remember them. Both men obliged, although Steve clearly couldn’t stuff his grief and anger down as well as Bucky could. Bucky was angry with him at first - telling him to stay strong for you. Surgery wasn’t going to be easy, mentally, emotionally, physically - they needed to stay strong for you. You told him not to be so hard on Steve. You were all dealing with the death - of the person you were, your relationship as it was - he was allowed to grieve.

You woke up from the surgery a few days later, tumor free, but almost completely blind.

Everything was just different from that point on. The medication after the surgery did a number on you. The steroids made you irrationally angry and agitated. Insomnia kicked in, you couldn’t sleep for days on end, so they prescribed you a sleeping aid. You couldn’t tell if it were day or night, so on top of the insomnia, your circadian rhythm was fucked - more medication. Your balance was off, you were confused more times than you weren’t, you had a seizure or two - bad ones.

That’s when the depression seeped in. You missed who you used to be. You were fun. You were wild - that’s how you ended up in a relationship with two men in the first place. You had a great laugh. You couldn’t hold your liquor for shit, and you had a great sense of style. You loved everything and everyone and now, you’re just a shell of that person. You end up laying in bed most of the day, days on end, as dark thoughts swarm around you, consuming the last spots of light you have left.

You’re a burden to them, Steve and Bucky. They’ve both had to leave the team, not wanting to be far from you in case something happened. Steve turned his shield over to Sam immediately upon hearing the news. Bucky stayed on for a while longer but wouldn’t leave the country, until even that was too much for him. He’s been home full time for a few weeks now.

The headaches now are from the new crippling anxiety and stress that you live with constantly. You don’t bother to put on anything but old t-shirts and sweats because, what’s the point? You can’t even remember what your favorite clothes look like. One afternoon, in a fit of rage, you pulled every article of clothing from the hanger and made Bucky tell you what color it was before you threw it away. You could only imagine him standing there, his hands on his hips, his head down, his voice low as he rattled them off - red, pink, yellow with white polka dots, navy blue and white stripes.

Between the irrational anger, the headaches, the insomnia, the feeling that your floundering - sinking just below the endless, dark water - you just want to give up. You just want to close your eyes and float away. Make it all end.

You hear the door slide across the carpet as it opens, and then heavy steps before a massive weight presses into the mattress. The duvet starts to shift but you grab it, stopping it from sliding off of your head and groan loudly.

“Bucky,” you whine, “Please don’t.”

He chuckles, “How d’you know it was me?”

His body wash. You used to laugh at the differences between the two of them - like day and night almost; but their juxtaposition is what made them, them. Bucky always went for earthy tones; rich - scents and colors alike. Naturally, his preferred body wash was heavier than Steve’s, distinctly masculine. Steve always liked a hint of sweet.

“Baby,” Bucky’s voice is soft and airy, “You gotta get up.” You don’t respond. You draw your knees into your chest as you feel him shift behind you, “Come on baby. We have a surprise for you.”

“I don’t like surprises.”

You can sense the smile on his face. He shifts again and suddenly you feel those metal digits slide up your spine. Slowly, slowly, slowly, they creep along your back and up to the back of your neck where he scratches at your hairline. You hate how short it is, your hair. You were natural before, took the utmost care of it. Steve helped you shave it off before surgery. Now, between the medication making it brittle and quite frankly, the lack of care you have, Steve helps you keep it short.

You let out a breath as Bucky’s large hand sweeps over your head, cupping it underneath the duvet before his digits find your ear to pull gently, playfully on the lobe, “Please? For me?”

You sigh. You let him pull the duvet away from your face. You start to blink quickly; jump slightly when you suddenly feel his lips on your cheek. You’re still not used to it yet, your senses aren’t - they’re getting stronger, you just have to trust them. You can hear your therapist's words like she’s sitting in the room with you. You relax though, when his cheek rubs against yours as he wraps your body up in a tight hug. You even smile a little as he kisses down your neck and along your shoulder as he rubs your hip.

You reach for him, finding his chin with your fingers. The short hair that grows along the bottom half of his face is prickly - sharp. You walk your fingers along his jawline and cup his cheek as he moans into the crook of your neck.

“Where’s Steve?” You ask softly.

“Packing up the car.”

You roll slightly onto your back, blinking at the nothingness as your fingers still move along Bucky’s face. You raise your second hand, sliding it along his left cheek, feeling him. You push your fingers over his lips, tracing them as you try and figure out what he’s feeling. Your hands move upward, over his nose, up to his eyes where you feel the crinkles on either side of them. He’s smiling; it’s a big one.

“Steve is really excited.” He says.

You picture an excited Steve. The light that fills his brilliant, blue eyes, the whiteness of his toothy grin. God, you miss his face, “Where are we going?” You ask after a moment.

There’s another kiss pressed to your cheek before he sits up, gently pulling your arms with him, “That’s the surprise.”

You let him pull you up to your feet. There’s footsteps again, coming down the hall, “Buck,” Steve says.

“She’s up.”

You turn your head in the direction of the door, dropping your chin to your shoulder, listening as the steps draw nearer. You close your eyes again and let another small smile spread on your lips when you feel soft fingers, Steve’s fingers, start to massage your shoulders. He kisses the back of your head and then your temple.

“Feelin’ better?” He whispers.

“Not really,” you answer honestly. You’ve never lied to them, there’s no use in starting now.

Silence drops over the room. You’re sure that they’re exchanging a quiet conversation, their eyes bouncing back and forth between each other, “Guys?”

“Still here,” Bucky answers, “Hands up, let’s get you dressed.”

You oblige, lifting your arms over your head as he pulls his old t-shirt away from your body, “I can dress myself.”

“Just let us help you.” Steve says gently, his hands slipping into the sides of your sweats to push them down your legs, “You know we’ve always liked pampering you.”

That they have. It’s been a long time since you’ve let them. Their hands feel familiar but yet different - you weren’t really paying attention to the feel of them before. Now that it’s all you have, the feel, you notice the difference between the two of them. Steve’s hands are a little softer than Bucky’s, but he hasn’t worked in over a year, that’s what you suppose anyway. Punching people and gripping various guns and knives are killer on the hands.

Once you’re stripped naked, Bucky places your arms back by your sides. You feel Bucky’s hands (his are calloused still) on yours within seconds, then, a slick material against your fingers.

You squint, “Is that a bathing suit?”

“It is. Your favorite one. Remember what it looks like?”

“The blue one?”

“With the polka dots.” He presses it into your palm, letting you feel it, “The strapless one, that sinches in the middle of your chest.”

You smile a little as you run your fingers over it. The stomach is cut out, the waist high. You liked it because it made your ass and your boobs look incredible, “I love this one.”

He kneels in front of you, grabbing your hand and placing it on his shoulder as Steve places his hands on your hips - steadying you, in more ways than one. Bucky lifts your left leg by your ankle and helps you step into your bathing suit, then moves to the right foot, sliding the soft material up your legs. Once his hands reach your waist, Steve takes over, grabbing the suit and pulling it up the rest of the way, up over your chest. He kisses your neck as you adjust the top over your breasts.

“Thank you.” You offer gently.

Steve pushes your hands above your head again and slips something soft down your arms and over your head. Bucky grabs it and pulls it down your body, adjusting it slightly as you place your hands on your chest - feeling it. It’s a cover up, the white one you think; the one you got on your vacation in Maui. It has a stain on it. Steve knocked over the bottle of red wine the three of you were enjoying as the two of you danced on the patio of your ocean front room, Bucky watching you with a small, happy smile on his face.

“I like this one,” you say more to yourself than to them, “It makes my legs look long.”

“Your legs are long.” Steve chuckles, “Come on, shoes now.”

Once you're fully dressed, Steve takes your hand, starting to guide you towards the door. You slip out of his grasp, taking a breath, “I can do it.”

It’s thirty seven steps from here to the kitchen. That’s when you make a right and take fifteen more steps to make it to the garage door. From there, it’s five steps to the car, unless it’s backed out into the driveway - then it's between twenty two and twenty seven steps, depending on just where it’s parked. You’re getting the hang of things, no matter how much you hate it.

You feel them hovering behind you as you walk but they both respect your boundaries, letting you navigate the house without intervention. You slide your hands along the side of the car to the door handle and pull, the old door creaking just a little. Bucky isn’t much of a car guy, but Steve? This 1967 Chevy Impala was the only thing he and Tony could talk about without fighting. Steve gushed over it every time the three of you had dinner with Tony and Pepper. Then, one day, it was parked in front of the house with a simple note from Tony shoved underneath the windshield wipers - Capsicle, much like your face, I can’t stand to look at this any longer. Enjoy.

You slide into the seat and within seconds feel their thick bodies enveloping you, squeezing you between the two of them. The seat rumbles against your back as the car comes to life, the engine and mufflers loud as… you lift your hand to the shoulder on your left and run it the length of his arm, down to his wrist, gripping slightly as you go. It’s Steve, his arms are just a tad longer than Bucky’s you’re coming to find; more vascular.

You squint as the car backs down the driveway and the sun hits your face. You lift your hand, blocking the rays as you start to fumble around in front of you. You’re surprised at how sensitive your eyes have become to the UV rays. There’s a hand on yours, then your glasses pressed into your palm, the fingers not pulling away until you unfold them and slip them onto your face.

“Good?” Bucky asks.

You nod, “Good.”

The windows are down, the warm breeze whipping around you, caressing your skin. The radio is turned up - Dreams by Fleetwood Mac - as you drive. Bucky hums softly, his metal fingers linking with yours, his lips pressing against your temple every now and again. Steve taps along to the beat with his fingers against your bare, exposed knee before he squeezes it gently. You smile as you start to relax, Steve’s words coming back to you. Just let us help you. You know we’ve always liked pampering you.

You drive for a while, over an hour maybe. Then, the car slows as you turn and stays slow, creeping almost, like Steve’s looking for something. The car turns again and comes to a stop a second or two later. The engine dies, the two buff bodies shift away from you as the doors pop open. There’s a tap on your right shoulder. You reach out and feel on the forearm until you find a hand, Bucky, before he grabs tightly and helps you out.

“I’m gonna help you, okay?” His voice is soft as he rubs his chin against your shoulder.

“Okay.” You answer. You turn your head to your left and blink quickly, anxiety starting to rush through your veins from the unfamiliarity of your surroundings, “Steve?”

“Right here, baby.” His voice is soft too. You feel his fingertips brush along the inside of your left wrist, just to assure you he’s close, “You’re okay. I had to get the bags.”

Bucky slips his arm around your waist and keeps your hand in his as he guides you. You count each step. Bucky narrates every move - that you are in a garage, just about to enter a house. You’re in a small hallway, seven steps before a left turn, then you’re in the kitchen. There’s an island to your left, a kitchen table with four chairs on your right and if you keep walking straight, you’re in the living room. He lets you feel your way, reaching out to touch the walls, the backs of the chairs, the island, as he talks.

You stop when Bucky stops, and then hear something slide open before the sounds of water crashing fills your ears. You’re back outside, the warmth of the sun falling over you like a blanket in the middle of winter. A hand slips down your calf and wraps around your ankle before your foot is lifted and your shoe removed. A broad smile covers your face. You haven’t been to the beach since the diagnosis.

You take a step forward once you’re barefoot, one of them grabbing your wrist quickly, “There’s steps, babe.” Bucky says.

“How many?”

“Six.” Steve answers, “Here let me-”

“I got it.” You say dancing your fingers over the railing and taking small, cautious steps until you feel the first step, “I got it.”

They’re hovering again. You can’t see it, but Steve has both hands extending out on either side of you, ready to catch you if you stumble. Bucky jumps the railing entirely, landing softly in the sand and rushes to the bottom step, his eyes on you as you move down them slowly. When you step into the hot sand, your smile grows - if that’s even possible. You wiggle your toes as the grains slip between them and the waves continue to crash not far from where you stand.

Steve and Bucky keep their small distance from you as you walk towards the ocean’s edge, knowing you're close when the sand changes from loose and dry to stiff and wet. The water washes up over your feet, the smell of salt fills your nostrils, the random calls of seagulls both near and far ring in your ears. You grab the hem of your cover up and pull it over your head, discarding it onto the ground without a care as you move deeper into the water - a new purpose, new life flowing through your veins.

You don’t feel them hovering anymore. You guess they’ve both stopped at the water’s edge, soft smiles on their faces as they watch a wave crash into you, making you stumble. You laugh, loud and carefree, as you fall on your butt, the strength of the water pushing you around slightly. You don’t know it, but Bucky’s smile widens and Steve’s chin trembles as they watch you find a meaning again.

Tilting your head to the sky, you run your wet hands over your head before you wrap them around your legs, bringing them into your chest. You let the sun beat down on you. You let the water wash over you. You let the tears come. You let them slide down your cheeks and fall into the water. You let the ocean carry all of your tears, sadness, anxiety, and depression away from you and out into the abyss. You don’t want it back.

You lay out underneath the sun for hours, making peace with yourself, becoming one with the sand, water, and sun. Steve and Bucky keep a watchful eye until you call for them. Then, and only then do they approach, hands and fingers and lips all over your damp skin. They lay with you, staring up into the sky and calling out the shapes of the clouds. They play with you, splashing water in your face and pinching and tickling your sides as the three of you laugh loudly. Wildly.

You feel like yourself again.

When the sun sets, and the breeze rolling off of the water turns chilly, making chills run through you and bumps pop up on your skin, the three of you head back inside. Door dash brings you a quick dinner, which you all inhale before heading back into the bedroom to bathe. Bathtubs are rarely big enough for the three of you, but you always make it work - sitting in Bucky’s lap, your back to his chest, Steve at the other end.

Steve shaves your legs slowly, dropping kisses on the inside of your ankle as Bucky massages the shampoo into your short hair. Bucky taps underneath your chin before he pushes his index finger into it softly, tilting your head back. He pours warm water over your hair, sweeping his hand through it to push the suds away. Just let us help you. You know we’ve always liked pampering you.

You stay in the tub with your boys until the water runs cold. You’re wrapped up in a warm, fluffy towel, Bucky rubbing his hands up and down your arms trying to warm you up as you shiver and laugh at yourself. A song starts to play from somewhere in the house, slightly muffled as the sound passes through the walls and down the halls. Dream A Little Dream Of Me. The duet between Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong. Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes were long replaced by Captain America and The Winter Soldier by the time this version came out, but they love it all the same. It reminds them of home, they tell you.

You’re suddenly crushed against one of them - Steve. You know this because you run your hands along his chest to his shoulder, not feeling the jagged, deep scar where Bucky’s flesh meets metal. He grabs your small hand and places it to his chest as he sways with you, back and forth, turning in slow circles as Louis croons.

Stars fading, but I linger on, dear

Still craving your kiss

I'm longing to linger till dawn, dear

Just saying this

Steve spins you away from him and Bucky finds you, wrapping you up in his arms - an arm slung around your waist, fingers spread against your naked back as he holds your hand. You melt into him, humming softly as your toes brush against his, the soft sounds of your feet pushing along the hardwood floor beneath you adding a natural soundtrack.

Steve’s hands find your shoulders from behind. He presses his thumbs into your flesh as he squeezes and rubs slowly, his lips peppering your jaw and down your neck, “You’re so tense, baby.” He whispers.

“Depression will do that to you,” you chuckle, your new humor darker than what either one of them are used to. You feel them both stiffen at your words, hear a sad sigh from behind you, “Sorry. It was just a joke.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Bucky says, “We want to know what you're feeling, good, bad or indifferent. You don’t have to joke with us.”

You take a breath. You rest your head on his chest and start to chew on your bottom lip, “I know.” Your voice is small.

Defense mechanism.

You fight the urge to cry. Your eyes start to water, your skin starts to flush with heat, your jaw gets tight. Steve grabs the back of your neck gently as he kisses your shoulder blade gently, just wanting you to feel him. Bucky keeps dancing with you as the tears start to fall, cupping the back of your head in his large hand as he pushes his lips to your forehead.

What is it your therapist says? You aren’t in this alone, or something like that. You never believed her, or those words - until right now. Right in this moment. It’s been a year of self imposed loneliness. Dark thoughts accompanied by even darker impulsions of wanting to slip underneath the water and never resurface. Fear and anxiety telling you that you need to push away - they’ll both leave you one day for a resemblance of normalcy again.

They haven’t.

They won’t.

The days have turned into weeks, have turned into months - and here they are. Slow dancing with you in the moonlight as Ella Fitzgerald plays through the walls. Bucky wipes at your cheek with his thumb, pushing the emotion away. He nuzzles his cheek against yours as you reach up and scratch at the nape of his neck to calm yourself, “We aren’t going anywhere, doll.” He whispers.

“We promise.” Steve adds on.

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you were holding. Bucky tilts your head towards his and without a warning, his lips cover yours. Soft. Commanding. His velvet tongue massaging yours as Steve bites down on your shoulder.

The sheets of the bed are soon mangled and twisted, pillows cast to the floor as you writhe beneath Bucky’s heavy body. Your leg is thrown over his hip, your fingernails dig into his thick flesh, the tips of his long, soft, dark hair brushing over your face. You have your other arm draped over his neck as his hips push into yours, driving himself deeper and deeper into you. Your mouth hangs, as does his - lips brushing against each other, hot breath washing over each other's skin as you push your foreheads together.

Steve waits patiently, although his fingers dance over your breasts, his palms brushing over your nipples before he palms your skin. He squeezes and gropes before he sends his hand down your stomach and to your clit to rub gentle circles against it as Bucky pummels you. He’s on his side, his nose and forehead pressed against the side of your face, his bottom lip between his teeth before he nips at your jaw and chin.

He tears your hand away from Bucky’s body to grab his hard length, dragging your palm with his, down his shaft. He’s so warm. His tip wet from his arousal.

It’s been a long while since the three of you have made love. It’s been a long while since you’ve felt beautiful enough too. You hadn’t realized how much of your self esteem was wrapped up in your hair until you had to shave it off. You also weren’t sure if you’d like it the way you used to - handle it with the same confidence you once had. Not being able to see them - see their hard muscles and their strained faces while in the throws of passion. That’s what turned you on.

Not anymore.

It’s the way you can tell them apart without having to see them. It’s the feel of their bodies now, not the sight of them. How rough and dominant Bucky’s hips are in your darkness, how sweet and loving Steve’s touch is. Their sounds; both deep and desperate for you. How the sounds vibrate against your ear drums and skin, moving through you - the illicit response your body has to them - the sounds.

You slam your head back into the pillow as Bucky pulls out of you. You pant and moan as you arch your back from the mattress as they shift around. Steve’s lips, you know their Steve’s because they’re rushed; always rushing, rushing, rushing like he’s still a man running out of time, push against your stomach, light kisses moving down to your sex. He bends your legs back, your feet dangling by his ears as he nibbles on the inside of your thigh.

Bucky grabs your hand just as Steve pushes his nose through your folds and sucks you into his mouth. Bucky moves your hand down his hard stomach to his pulsing hips. You wrap your hand around his warmth and feel him pump up into it, a little grunt falling from his lips at the same time.

Steve hums as his tongue swirls around you, flicking and lapping at you as his index and middle fingers push into your cunt. You buck your hips into his face, using all of him, his chin, his lips, his nose to cop a feel as he sucks on you. He releases your flesh with a loud smack - then drags his wet mouth the length of your thigh, up to your knee, and along your calf as he sits up on his knees. He extends your leg, resting it against his chest and shoulder as he sucks your manicured toes into his mouth, his large hand caressing your calf.

Bucky growls as he sucks your taut nipple into his mouth and wraps his metal fingers around your throat. He then kisses your mouth, hard and desperate, moaning into you as he continues to push his hips into your warm hand and against your side. He squeezes, gently, slowly, causing you to gasp just as Steve pushes into your wet, slick, swollen cunt.

You groan into Bucky’s hot mouth as Steve starts to move. His thrusts are softer, gentler than Bucky’s - always have been. He keeps your leg curled over his shoulder, his lips peppering kisses along your ankle and calf, his other hand and fingers gripping your thigh. The cool metal of Bucky’s fingers skip over your hot skin, down between your breasts and to your stomach before he flattens his palm against you, pushing down to add some pressure.

Bucky bites your bottom lip, pulling softly before he lets go. He nuzzles back into the side of your face, the stubble on his cheek cutting across your skin. He wraps his hand around yours that still pumps his cock and glides it slowly up and down, up and down, up and down as he moans into your ear; heavy, hot breath caressing your neck and the side of your face.

Steve hits a spot; your toes curl. Your hips jerk - your muscles tense. Fingers begin to massage your clit, slow, slow, slow circles to draw out the sensation. Teeth nibble at your ear lobe. Fingers glance across your skin. Mouths and lips take turns on yours. Steve drives his hips harder and faster - pushing, pulling, pushing, pulling. Bucky breaths fire laced words, provoking you, prodding you, coercing you to just let it all go…

You shatter. It consumes every bit of you. Physically. Emotionally. Their hands and fingers are everywhere, gripping, pinching, holding as you come. Steve pulls out of you - he always liked to watch you come, how your sticky, swollen sex convulses with each contraction from your orgasm, your clit jumping. He pushes his fingers back through your folds as he pushes his cock inside of you again, also loving the squeeze.

You feel hot, quick bursts of silk, over and over, splash against your stomach. Bucky groans with each, right up against your ear, the sound vibrating through your entire body.

Heat then blooms inside of you - Steve. Your muscles constrict around him, pulling each warm, thick ribbon of cum from him, coating your walls. He pushes deep and grabs your hand, placing it right in the middle of his chest so you can feel his muscles tense and flex as he comes. Feel the soft rumble of the grunts that vibrate through his chest. Feel his heart.

He collapses beside you, your body bouncing against the mattress as his weight pushes against it. The three of you are nothing but heavy breaths and balmy skin. Eyelashes resting against your cheeks as your eyes close with the recession of your lust. A head rests on your chest. You lift your hand and slip your fingers through the tresses, finding them short and kind of wispy - Steve.

Metal fingers curl within yours, a sturdy leg thrown over your thighs. A hand splays across your chest. Lips connect with your shoulders and jaw - fingers massage and scratch at your scalp softly. It’s all a blur. The haze won’t let your brain try and figure out who is who; but maybe that’s the point. Maybe it’s what you need. You don’t need to know. You can let go some of the control that you’ve been so desperately searching for.

You inhale deeply; and let out the breath you’ve been holding for over a year.

Your delicate fingers are lifted and pressed against hot lips - each digit receiving a kiss before being placed on a chest. The thump thump thump of a heart beat drums against them. You let out another breath as you nuzzle into their heavy bodies, soft I love you’s passing back and forth. There’s a faint skip of the record player down the hall. The soft whoosh of the breeze playing with the open curtains that cover the windows. Three bodies huddled in the center of the bed; just breathing.

In and out.

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