#I’ll be honest I’ve seen a few fics recently that are making me raise my eyebrow because I swear I’ve written lines from them before | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

flightlessangelwings · 2 years ago

Text

More Than a Job- Part 1/2

Din Djarin x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: bodyguard!Din, mutual pining, feelings, protective!Din, minor violence, attacks on reader, badass!reader, reader has an older brother and they have a good relationship, me making up a planet and some lore, reader wears a corset, lingering touches, kisses, so much pining!!! This takes place after the end of season 2 but before Book of Boba Fett

Notes: This was all inspired by that post about your appointed knight tenderly helping you lace up your corset and I went 👀 bodyguard Din! No smut in this chapter, but part 2 will be smutty so this fic and my blog is 18+ only still! And I named reader’s brother after my good friend @thematthewmurdock because I like giving my friends cameos in my fics lol! Let me know what you think of this one cause I’m really excited for this!!

To stay up to date on when I post, feel free to also follow my update blog and turn on post notifs @flightlessangelwings-updates

Alone.

For the first time in a long time, the Mandalorian found himself alone. He used to be accustomed to being alone, but since Grogu, he grew fond of the little one’s companionship. And while it was always his mission to return Grogu to his people, Mando still felt the sting of sorrow at letting him go. But, he was with his people now, and the Jedi would take good care of him.

Now it was time for the Mandalorian to find his own people.

Mando heard whispers of the whereabouts of a clan of Mandalorians, but the only concrete information he could get was a direction of where to go to find them. It wasn’t much, but it was a start, so Mando made his way to Mare. Ironically, it was in a neighboring system to Mandalore. Mando wondered if that was a coincidence or not.

“I’m looking for Prince Rion,” the Mandalorian stated simply when he walked into the throne room.

It was a simple space, but still elegant. Mando could tell it was built more for function than glam. Instead of a throne at the top to look down on subjects, there were several tables all with various plans and holos of the planet. It was clearly meant to state that the rulers saw themselves as equals to their people, not above them. It was admirable.

A well dressed man who stood in the center of his constituents raised his head, “Please, just call me Rion,” he crossed the room to meet his guest, “What do I owe the pleasure of a Mandlaorian in my palace? We haven’t seen one of your people in a very long time.” He was warm and friendly, but he also had an air about him that was immediately respectable.

“I’m looking for information on a clan of Mandalorians,” he replied, “I was told you could tell me where to find them.”

Rion didn’t seem surprised by the question; Mare had been a sanctuary for Mandalorians in the past, and several of their secret paths went through the planet. But, ever since the great purge and wars, there have been less and less of them. This was the first one Rion had met in many years.

He sat in quiet contemplation for several moments before he finally answered, “I know the paths, Mando. I think I can help you,” he paused, “But I’ll need something in return as well. Call it a favor for a favor. I’ll even pay you handsomely too.”

Mando knew he wasn’t going to get something for free, “What do you need?”

Rion clasped his hands behind his back and paced, “I don’t know if you’ve heard of the state of my planet, but I’ll be honest with you,” he took a few steps closer and gave him a solemn look, “It’s not great,” Rion sighed as he released his hands and the facade of the wise, strong ruler melted away to reveal a desperate man, “My parents, the King and Queen, were killed recently, and I’ve had to take charge in a rush. We’ve never been sympathetic to the Empire, and even though it’s gone, sympathizers still try to spark the flames of what used to be. I cannot allow that to happen. My people must remain free,” he ran his hands over his face, “But until I can assume full power, my palace and I are vulnerable. We are a people of tradition, you see, and my hands are tied until I’m officially crowned ruler of Mare… And that won’t happen for several weeks…”

“So you need a bodyguard?” Mando assumed.

“Yes,” Rion replied, “But not for me. Let me explain…”

You let out a heavy breath as you made your way down the hallway. Something in you told you that your brother didn’t summon you for idle chat, and you prepared yourself for anything he could have in mind. The two of you were as close as could be, especially after you lost your parents. Rion was a kind, smart and admirable man, and you looked up to him.

“Ah, there are are, I’ve been waiting for you,” your brother noticed you the moment you walked into the room.

He was dressed elegantly, as he always was, and he carried himself like the leader he was born to be. Even when his path to the throne of your home plant was fast tracked, he still looked out for you and watched over you, sometimes you thought a little too much.

“Alright Rion, what was it you needed me so urgently for?” You looked out of place in the room as the only one who was more dressed down. It made those who were unfamiliar with you underestimate you, but that's how you preferred it. You were your brother’s right hand, and you were a skilled and valuable member of his team.

Unfortunately it also made you a target, especially recently.

Your brother gave you a look that he only used when you weren’t going to like what he had to say, “Listen,” he said your name as he crossed the room and stood in front of you, “Things are worse than I realized lately,” he put his hands on your shoulders as you braced yourself for what was to come, “And until my coronation goes though, you’re at risk.”

“I can handle myself, Rion, you know that,” you fought to keep your voice calm, although you didn’t like where he was going with this.

It was true that since your parents died, attacks on you and your brother increased. Those who still sympathized with the Empire tried their best to get rid of you and your brother so that the throne could be filled with someone who was more aligned with their views. But, you both were strong and tough, and you’ve evaded the blaster fire and vibroblades until now.

Your family fought hard to keep peace within your system, and it wasn’t easy. But, both you and your brother knew you were doing the right thing, and you were determined to keep doing so for as long as you could. Until he was officially named ruler of the planet Mare, though, the two of you were more vulnerable, and your brother did not like that at all.

“I know you can,” he sighed, “But until my coronation, I don’t have the power to fully protect you,” he paused as he felt the weight of your stare, “That’s why…”

You raised your eyebrows.

Rion turned around and gestured to the shadowy figure in the corner, “Sis, meet Mando. He’s going to protect you until I’m crowned.”

“What?!” you lost your control, “Rion, I don’t need a bodyguard!”

“Please don’t be a pain in the ass for him,” your brother’s voice was stern, “It’s only temporary. Just until the courts officially move the power to me. Then those Empire sympathizers wouldn’t dare attack us.”

You huffed in frustration as you crossed your arms. A whisper of a curse escaped your lips.

“Please,” Rion whispered your name, “You’re my little sister… My only family left. I can’t lose you too.”

It wasn’t often that you heard your brother sound like that, and the desperate look in his eyes deflated you a bit. Deep down, you knew he was right, you just didn’t want to admit it. You were alive so far, but how much longer would your luck last? How long could you keep up with your own duties to the planet and fight for your very life?

You let out a heavy sigh, “Alright.”

Rion pulled you into a hug, “Good,” he whispered into your ear, “Thank you.”

“Uh-huh,” was all you could respond with as you broke away from your brother and met the helmated gaze of the Mandalorian, “Alright Mando, guess we’re going to be getting to know each other very well.”

You turned and made your way out of the room, and the Mandalorian silently followed. He was stopped, however, by your brother who grabbed onto his arm and leaned in, “She’s tough, but she’s got a good heart. Just don’t let her stubbornness get to you,” he paused, “And once you’re done, I promise you’ll get paid well and I’ll give you the information you wanted. You have my word.”

Mando nodded and went to follow you out the door.

The first day was filled with council meetings in which you had to argue your way for anything. The others at the table seemed to talk down to you, no matter how right you were about the topic. As he watched, Mando realized the reason for your guarded behavior: you were like this because you had to be. You had to fight for anything and everything, even if your brother was well respected.

And the bizarre part for Mando was how right you were about everything. The lives of everyone would be better if they would only listen to you. And you could get more done if you didn’t have to argue for yourself every step of the way.

“Have fun today, Mando?” you asked him as he escorted you back to your room.

Through the modulator in his helmet, Mando just scoffed.

You couldn’t help the smirk as you felt his eyes roll even if you couldn’t see them, “Well, this is me,” you gestured to your door, “I think Rion has you set up right next door,” you didn’t know why you suddenly felt nervous under his gaze.

“Let me check though first,” Mando barged past you, “Always do this every night,” he told you as he swept through your room.

You were too flustered to say anything. There was a stranger in your room, and you didn’t quite know how you felt about it. You watched him move swiftly, despite the heavy armor he wore. You caught a glimpse of his silhouette under the cape as he bent over to check something, and you couldn’t help but stare at his legs. Suddenly, you were glad for more reasons than one that he wasn’t staying in your room with you.

“Everything’s good,” Mando turned back around and stepped in front of you, “You alright?” he tilted his helmet to the side as he saw the expression on your face. He wasn’t sure what to make of the look you gave him, and it made him swallow hard.

“Fine,” you regained your composure, “See you tomorrow I guess.”

Mando nodded as he left the room, “Keep your blade and comm close. Lock the door behind me,” he told you before he stepped out.

The moment the door slid closed, you let out a heavy breath, and you didn’t know that just on the other side of the door, the Mandalorian did the exact same thing. This was going to be a long few weeks…

And a long few weeks it was. Mando watched from the shadows over your shoulder as you went to council meetings and fought for the fate of your planet and the safety of your people. He watched as you displayed the same admirable traits as your brother, even if others couldn’t quite see it at times.

The way your brows furrowed when you tried to hide your exacerbation, the way your shoulders relaxed when you finally had a breakthrough, even the fierce look in your eyes were all captivating to the Mandalorian. The more time he spent with you, the more he became enamored with you, and Mando had to fight off his own quickly growing feelings for you.

“It’s just a job,” he’d whisper to himself at night when he was alone in the room next to yours. And yet, he couldn’t help but think, “The kid would really like her.”

On the other side of the wall, you let out a heavy sigh as you started to feel comforted by the Mandalorian’s presence. What you thought was an annoyance at first, quickly evolved into something else, and the few times he wasn’t at your side, you suddenly felt lonely. You didn’t even have to look behind you to know he was there, and you always felt his watchful eye on you.

There were no attacks yet, and the whispers of threats always turned out to be rumors, but you wondered how fiercely Mando would defend you if something were to happen. You knew how to handle yourself, you and your brother both learned young how to fight, but his broad, armored body made your mind race. Your imagination ran wild as you wondered what it would be like to be in his embrace.

“Safe,” you exhaled with a sigh as you thought out loud, “He makes me feel safe,” is what you decided it would be like in his arms.

While you were stubborn and reluctant at first, you quickly grew fond of the man in beskar who always watched over you. The more the days went by, the more you wondered if he was only so attentive because it was a job, or if he started to feel the same way about you.

Of course, you would actually have to say something to know for sure. And you felt like you needed to apologize for the way you were short with him when you first met. That was when you had an idea.

“Here,” you shoved a small package into the Mandalorian’s hands as he walked you back to your room at the end of the day like he always did, “I’m sure my brother is keeping you well fed, but take this as a special token of appreciation from me. It’s a small comfort cake I’ve always loved. I don’t know if you like sweets much but I just thought…”

“Thank you,” Mando interrupted your rambling with a genuine tone. He tilted his head the way he did almost every time he looked at you now, and it was a gesture you had come to adore.

You let out a deep breath as you flashed a quick nervous smile, “I also wanted to apologize,” you waited for him to say something, but when he kept silent you went on, “I’ve been kind of a hard-ass with you, and I know it’s not your fault or anything and it wasn’t fair of me to take my frustrations on my brother out on you. So, I’m sorry.”

Mando watched you for a long moment, and you wished more than anything you could read his expression. You wondered what thoughts ran through his head as you saw the subtle way his helmet lowered as he looked you over.

“Don’t worry about it,” was what he finally broke his silence with. He stared at you for another long beat, and you thought his gaze dropped down to your lips, but you couldn’t quite tell. “Good night.”

You fought to keep your face neutral as you dropped your shoulders in disappointment, “Good night,” you replied before you turned and went into your room.

Once the door closed and locked and you heard the Mandalorian’s footsteps retreat, you let out a heavy sigh, “What am I doing?” you asked yourself as you changed and got ready for bed. You went through your usual routine, as well as the added safety measures Mando told you to do. You checked all entryways, made sure your door was locked and secure, and placed your knife and comm on your bedside table just in case.

Once you were sure you were safe, you flopped onto your large, plush bed and sighed again. Sleep did not come as easily as you had hoped, though, and you found your mind was full of thoughts of your bodyguard. You wondered about his past, and what he planned to do once your brother felt you no longer needed him at your side. You wondered if he would miss you after he went away. You wondered what it would be like if he were here beside you right now…

But your thoughts were interrupted as the glass of your bedroom window suddenly shattered and men dressed in all black poured in. You yelped as you shot up and instinctively grabbed your knife before they could grab you.

“You’re coming with us, sweetheart,” one of them sneered as he reached for you.

“I don’t think so,” you quipped back as you lashed out at him with your knife.

In the next room, Mando quickly leapt to his feet the moment he heard commotion. Sleep hadn’t taken him yet either, and he laid awake with thoughts of you in his head when he heard the sound of glass breaking and your shouts.

Still fully armed, Mando rushed to your door and unlocked it with his keycard. He whispered your name to himself and hoped that the seconds it took him to get up didn’t make him too late. But, as he bolted into your room with his blaster in his hand, the sight before him took him by surprise.

You stood in the middle of the scattered bodies on the floor as you panted heavily. In your eyes was a fierceness Mando had never seen before, and it made his breath hitch in his throat. When you heard the door open, you spun around, ready to attack again, but you immediately dropped your shoulders when you saw the Mandalorian there.

“Mando!” you sighed in relief.

He breathed your name as he stepped closer to you, “Are you alright?”

Just as you opened your mouth to answer, another crash through the adjoining window called both your attention. One last man barreled through the other window to your bedroom and leapt right for you. You braced yourself, but the Mandlorian was faster and he rushed forward and shot the man right in the chest before he reached you.

Both of you watched the last man drop to the floor dead as Mando quickly rushed to your side, “You ok?” he repeated as he clasped his hand around your arm and looked you over for any injury.

You gazed into the visor of his helmet and you felt your heart pound in your chest at the way he held your arm so tightly, “I’m fine,” you let go of the breath you held, “See, I told you I could handle myself,” you added with a smirk to try and diffuse the tension you suddenly felt.

Mando tilted his helmet to the side as you swore you heard a short laugh, “I didn’t doubt you.”

A sharp exhale escaped your lips as you found yourself at a loss for words. Between the adrenaline that rushed through your veins and the way the Mandalorian held you, your mind swam with a thousand thoughts.

Before either of you could speak, though, a groan from the floor interrupted.

“If we can’t take you alive…” he hissed through gritted teeth as he lifted his arm and revealed a detonator in his hand.

Mando reacted quicker than you did and with your name under his breath, he grabbed you and rushed you toward the open window. Suddenly, you found yourself swept up in his arms and before you knew what happened, an explosion shook your bedroom. Mando got you out just in time, though, and he leapt out the open window with you in his arms.

With one arm secretly around your waist, Mando pulled out a grapple and flicked it toward the frame of your window. He used the leverage of the cable and swung you both forward into the window of the floor below your bedroom. You gasped and buried yourself in the crook of his neck as he used his body to shield you as the two of you crashed through the window and landed on the floor safely.

All the breath felt forced out of your body as you hit the ground hard and immediately felt a weight on top of you. Mando had positioned himself over you to protect you in case there were any more intruders and he pointed his blaster out into the open space, ready to attack. As you panted underneath him, he scanned the area and it wasn’t until he was sure you were safe that he finally moved.

“Looks like that was all of them,” Mando said as he lifted himself off of you, “Let me help you up,” he extended his hand to you.

Although you had just fought for your life, you found that you missed the feeling of Mando on top of you, and you were almost disappointed that he got up so quickly. It took a moment for your mind to catch up to you as you stared at his extended hand for several moments. It wasn’t until he said your name with concern that you snapped out of your head and took his hand.

“I’ve got you,” Mando’s voice was soft and comforting as he helped you onto your feet.

Your hand stayed securely in his as your eyes never felt his visor. There were so many things you wanted to say to him at that moment, but nothing came out of your mouth. And before you found your voice, the door to the room you were in suddenly burst open.

Mando quickly shoved you behind him and pulled out his new weapon-the darksaber. He had it braced in front of you both, ready to attack, but he relaxed when he saw that it was your brother and his guards. Rion breathed your name in relief as he lowered his own weapon.

You peeked out from behind the barrier of beskar that protected you and gave your defender a square on his arms, “Rion,” you glanced at Mando for a moment in a silent thanks before you rushed over to your brother.

“Are you ok? What happened?” Rion looked you over and his eyes held a panic that you had never seen before, “Get to the healers at once,” he shouted orders to his guards.

“Wait… Rion…” you looked back at Mando with a worried look as you were pushed out of the room before you could stop them.

Your brother glanced down at the unmistakable weapon in the Mandlaorian’s hand. His mouth dropped open in surprise before he regained his composure and crossed the room to stand in front of him, “Thank you,” his voice still trembled no matter how he tried to hide it, “Thank you for protecting my sister.”

“It was my job,” Mando’s own voice betrayed him as he sheathed his weapon and secured it on his belt.

“Mmmhmm,” Rion didn’t sound convinced, “I think there’s more for us to talk about, Mando…”

You found yourself in a whirlwind as preparations for your brother’s coronation hastened. What should have taken weeks was done in a day, and you between the attack last night and the flurry of preparations, felt overwhelmed. It was a relief when you finally had some time to yourself to get ready for the ceremony.

Since your room was nothing more than ash now, your brother moved you to another room along with anything that was able to be salvaged. If you were honest, your belongings were the last thing on your mind. You actually only had one person in your thoughts, and you had barely gotten the chance to talk to the man who saved your life last night since you were so busy all day.

You wondered where Mando was as you fumbled with your corset in vain. The last thing he said to you was that he was going with your brother to check over security and that he'd be back as soon as he could. As much as you initially resented having a bodyguard, you found yourself lonely without the Mandalorian at your side. You let out a loud sigh as you forced those thoughts out of your head and tried again with the corset of the outfit that was much fancier than anything you liked to wear on a daily basis.

As if on cue, a knock at your door made you turn your head and you couldn’t hide the smile that lit up your face when the Mandalorian walked into the room.

“I’m sorry I took longer, I…” Mando froze for a moment when he saw you standing there with your outfit off your shoulders and your corset loose on your waist, “Sorry I’ll…” he rushed to leave, but your voice stopped him in his tracks.

“No, wait,” you sounded troubled, and the desperation in your voice made his heart skip a beat.

Mando turned back around and the look in your eyes stirred feelings within him that he tried to hard to bury ever since he came here, “Is,” he swallowed hard as he stepped back into the room and shut the door, “Is everything ok?” he asked in his usually soft voice as he hoped you didn’t hear how strained he sounded.

“I actually,” you suddenly sounded sheepish, “I can’t get this stupid thing tied on my own. Could you…” you took a deep breath as you fiddled with your fingers, “Would you mind…?” you gestured to your back and the undone laces.

“Alright,” Mando whispered as he stepped up behind you.

“Thanks,” your voice was just a hushed as you turned back around and faced the mirror. You forced yourself to keep your eyes up as you watched the figure of the Mandlaorian come up behind you. You hoped that he couldn’t see how nervous you were as you tried your best to keep yourself calm.

His touch was surprisingly gentle for how tough a bounty hunter he was. You barely even felt his fingers against your body as he threaded the laces and carefully tugged at your corset. Vaguely, you wondered if he had done this before as you bit your lip and fought to keep your breathing steady.

You had a searing question on your mind, but as badly as you wanted to ask, you kept silent about it. You knew something was up by the way he was acting, but Rion refused to tell you what it was. You were sure it had to do with the weapon Mando carried with him, and as much as you wanted to know, you cared more about the man who stood behind you than anything else.

Together, the two of you stayed in a tense silence as the tips of his fingers gently brushed against your skin.

When you couldn’t stand the silence anymore, you whispered, “Thank you by the way. For saving my life last night.” You watched his helmet in the mirror and you caught the way his gaze seemed to flick up to your eyes as he looked up for a brief moment.

“It’s part of the job,” he replied softly.

Your next words were bold, even if you spoke them softly, “Is that the only reason?”

Mando was quiet for several moments, as if he wasn’t sure what to say back. “You had it mostly handled,” Mando replied as he forced his gaze back to your corset, “Everyone underestimates you.”

“Not you though,” you smirked as you felt him secure your corset.

“Never.”

At the same time, both of you looked up and met your gaze in the mirror. The lingering silence was tense as Mando’s fingers lingered on the skin of your upper back. It was at that moment that you realized he took his gloves off.

You quickly spun around and took his hands in yours before you could stop yourself. Mando hissed your name in a soft protest, but any fight was lost when you looked at him with those eyes.

“Should I not…?” you asked in a whisper.

Mando stayed silent for a long moment, “It’s alright,” he finally said.

You knew you couldn’t see his face, but there wasn’t anything saying you couldn’t see his hands. But, you also didn’t want to cross any line with him, so you waited for him to nod before your eyes dropped back down to the only exposed skin on his body. His skin was surprisingly soft, even with the calluses on his hands from the weapons he wielded over the years. And on the back of one hand was a small bullseye tattoo. You smirked as you ran your thumb across it and made a note to ask about it another time.

“It wasn’t the only reason,” Mando whispered softly.

Suddenly, you felt brave and your eyes ran up his arms as you pictured what his bare skin looked like underneath all that beskar. When you met his gaze through his helmet, an idea popped in your head.

Slowly, you reached out and rested your hand on Mando’s chest. You looked into his visor for a sign to stop, and when you found none, you carefully slipped your hand underneath his helmet. You heard his breath hitch in his throat, but he made no attempt to stop you as you caressed his cheek under the armor. You exhaled sharply when you felt patches of stubble on his skin there and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Do you trust me?” you broke the silence of the room.

“Yes,” Mando replied without hesitation.

You nodded as you pulled your hand out from under the helmet and took one of his hands in yours. You brought his hand up to cover your eyes and you didn’t let go until you were sure he would keep his hand there. With trembling hands, you reached out again and slowly lifted his helmet up, unable to see anything in front of you.

Mando’s other hand came up and held your waist tightly as he allowed your actions. When you lifted his helmet enough so that his lips touched the cool air, he leaned forward and took own lips in a soft but needy kiss. You immediately moaned softly into his mouth as you almost lost your grip on his helmet.

The warmth of his lips engulfed you, and you quickly parted your own lips to invite him deeper into you. Mando took the invitation, and he tightened his grip on you as he dove his tongue into your mouth. The kiss quickly heated up and you felt like you could burst into flames from the passion you felt in Mando’s kiss.

“Din,” he whispered against your lips as he peppered soft kisses along the side of your face.

“What?” you kept your eyes closed as you basked in his affections.

“My name,” he clarified, “I want you to know it. It’s Din.”

You smiled against his cheek, “Din,” you echoed. The way he squeezed you tighter told you that he liked the sound of his name in your voice. And then it hit you that he spoke to you without his helmet on for the first time. Meaning you heard his unmodulated voice. It sent shivers up your spine and suddenly you didn’t care about your brother’s coronation. All you wanted was for him to rip off the corset he just so tenderly tied and tangle your body with his.

But, duty called, so reluctantly, you lowered his helmet. You waited for Din to take his hand off your eyes, and even then you kept them closed for another moment and just savored the feeling of his strong body against yours. Once you blinked your eyes open, though, you were greeted by the familiar silver beskar helmet that you had grown so fond of and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Shall we?” you asked with a heavy exhale.

Din nodded as he ran his hand down your arm and gave your hand one last squeeze before letting you go.

756 notes · View notes

xxwritemeastoryxx · 4 years ago

Text

Welcomed Distraction

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Damon Salvatore x Reader

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: Mentions of plotting murder but nothing else?

Author’s note: Welcome to fluff week! And here is how we're gonna start the week off. With a very Anti-Valentines day fic. What other way is there to start this holiday? XD I swear this is the only anti vday fic I have for this week. It is kinda Vday centered, so it's not like ya'll are missing out. Plus I needed this scenario. And I could only picture Damon for this so, here you go!

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things

Flires covered the halls with posters for the dance this weekend. The Bitter Ball was meant for all of those that were heartbroken could get together and express how much they hated Valentine's Day. Of course those that celebrated were going to be out on their dates, spending their time with their loved ones.

Y/N wouldn’t be going out on a fancy date. Nor would she be spending her time at the Bitter Ball. It wasn’t like she had recently experienced heartbreak that would make her want to attend the dance. She was just single.

She had tried proving several times that there was nothing wrong with it. But of course her friends had tried setting her up with someone days before, but it didn’t end up working out. And Y/N actually preferred that. Why spend the money to show off how much you love someone on one specific day.

This way she could stay home for the night. It meant she could stay in her pajamas and binge watch whatever was on Netflix that caught her interest. There was no need to get dressed up for anyone and that was how she wanted it. All that was needed was an assortment of junk food and a drink of her choice.

And it was as Y/N was getting ready to plop into her bed and begin watching a serial killer documentary when there was a knock at her door. For a brief moment, she thought of just ignoring it and climbing into bed. But the other part of her believed that if it was anyone had to come find her, it must have been important and left her room to go answer the door.

Her eyebrow raised as she took in Damon Salvatore standing on the opposite side. She could see he had obviously been dressed for the Bitter Ball. The all black outfit had given that away seeing as it was a requirement for it.

“You know, when I was told everyone was heading to the Bitter Ball, I was surprised not to see you there.” Damon said as he leaned against the doorframe.

“I’m not bitter.” Y/N said as she took a step back to allow him to enter her home. “I’m single. There’s a difference.”

“I doubt everyone that’s there isn’t exactly bitter.” He said as he walked in.

Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “Caroline is bitter.” She noted. “You on the other hand, I can't exactly figure out why you’d want to go to the anti-valentines day ball.”

It was his turn to chuckle. “A bitter heart tends to lead to nights of very entertaining activities.” A smirk pulled at his lips, causing her to roll her eyes. “I mostly went because I thought my partner in crime would be there to be miserable with me. But she wasn’t there and when I found her, she’s ready to veg out without so much as giving me an invite.”

Her eyebrow raised. “I never took you for wanting to stay in and just eat junk food while watching serial killer documentaries.”

“Not with just anyone.” He said with a shrug. “But with you, I’d do it.”

Y/N eyed him a moment. For as long as she had known the man standing in front of her, she had never just been content to just sit there and watch documentaries. After a few seconds she nodded her head. “100 says you’ll get bored and start complaining about some of the cases.”

Damon laughed and shook his head. “That’s a bet I’ll take and even win.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” She said with a shake of her head as she began making her way back towards her room with him in tow.

As they both had settled into Y/N’s bed, Damon had every intention of winning the bet. If it meant he could spend some time with Y/N, he was going to do so. At least that was until they got some details wrong about a case that he had personally had a part in and that seemed to irk him.

A smirk had pulled at Y/N’s lips as she watched him from the corner of her eye. She could see the way his face either scrunched up in disbelief at the facts that had been pouring out of the narrator. Or even the way he sat up straighter and crossed his arms over his chest. It was in complete contrast to how laidback and comfortable Y/N had been.

“Just admit it, you’re ready to complain.” Y/N said as she never took her eyes off the tv.

Damon shook his head. “Never. Just really getting into this amazing documentary with all the wrong facts.”

Y/N laughed and stuck out her hand towards him. “That was a complaint. And I’ll take my money now.”

“That was not a complaint.” He said shaking his head as he looked over at her. “That was merely an observation.”

“An observation, my ass.” She chuckled. “That was a complaint on how they have the wrong information.”

“One would say that’s an observation that they gave credit to a serial killer, when in fact it was a Vampire.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders.

“What other observations do you have to voice?” She asked with a raised brow knowing she was about to win the bet.

“For one, they managed to say this guy had over 50 victims when, let’s be honest is more like 10 and was given credit for some that were not in fact his.” Damon continued on with every ‘observation’ he noticed during the first hour of what they’ve seen.

It was as Y/N rolled over on her stomach and propped her head on her fist, and a small smirk pulled at her lips that Damon realized he had gone into a full blown tangent on just how wrong the documentary had been. He had stopped mid sentence and took in her position and shook his head.

“Fine, you win.” He said with a roll of his eyes.

She began laughing away at his reaction and her laughter grew at seeing the slightest pout form on his lips. Damon was the one that usually won bets against a lot of people. But when it came to Y/N, she somehow won them. Even when her odds were against her.

The group used to say that was her supernatural ability. To be able to make bets go in her favor. But Y/N was as ordinary as they came. She wasn’t a relative of anyone special, she wasn’t descended from any kind of witch coven or royalty. She was as human as they came and she preferred that.

The moment the laughter died down, Damon watched her for a moment. “Want to talk about it?” He asked, keeping his attention on her.

His words hadn’t caught her off guard. She had been expecting them from the moment he had shown up at her door. But even then, her face fell and she looked away from him as she thought about it.

She may not have been bitter, but Y/N had gone through a bad heartbreak almost a year ago. One that left her broken in a way she’d never believed she would ever feel. That had been before she met the Salvatores and found out about the world she now lived in. While her friends had known about it, they always tried to get her back on the horse. But she never had been ready to do it.

“I don’t think I am.” She said with a shake of her head. “One day I’ll be able to talk about it without reliving it.” Even as she spoke of it now, she felt an emotion bubbling within her. “That time is just not right now.”

Damon laid back on the bed so that he was leveled with her. “You know I could always make him some serial killer’s next victim.”

Y/N chuckled and shook her head. “I think that would complete your previous offers of compelling, eating him and ripping his heart out.”

He smirked. “Just say the word, point me in the right direction and it’s done. No questions asked.”

“I’m surprised someone hasn’t done it already.” Knowing her friends, she was expecting it. Especially with the way everyone went behind each other’s backs from time to time to make sure they were safe.

“Oh, we’ve been tempted.” He said with a nod. “Okay, mostly me, but that’s because I'm impulsive and usually don’t care what other people say.”

“What stopped you this time?” She asked, curious. As Damon had said, he did things without thinking. And the fact that he had thought about doing so from time to time and not actually doing it had surprised Y/N.

“Because, believe it or not, while I’m impulsive and do things behind the backs of the people I care about, I don’t think I’d be able to handle your reaction afterwards.” He nodded his head. “I can handle everyone else being angry with me, or even hating me for a period of time, but I don’t think I could handle it coming from you.”

Y/n nodded her head as she took in his words. “I don’t think I could hate you, Damon. You could go out there and kill him tonight without me knowing and I still wouldn’t hate you for it. I’d probably thank you in the morning once I found out.”

“Well,” He said with a smirk pulling at his lips. “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard someone be okay with murder.”

She chuckled as she pointed towards the still playing documentary. “It would be interesting to see what details they’d get wrong when you’re the culprit.”

While she may have been only slightly joking, the whole conversation had distracted her from the hurt that she had been secretly hiding from the others. Planning out a revenge with a vampire was the last thing she had been expecting to do tonight. But the way it happened showed she was getting better.

Because creating a hypothetical murder scene with a vampire is just the next step of the healing process.

Always and Forever Tags:

@taylordrunkonwhiskey @thewolf-and-thesheep @wayward-dan @neeadinghugs @fafulous @kenmen02 @elizamonet @dora-the-grownup @mschellehitt @xanderling @fandom-princess-forevermore @buckysarm4 @hi-my-name-is-riley @helenasingers @mrs-jackson-kenner @hellotvshowtrash @dpaccione @dumble-daddy @theactressstaringinyourbaddream @maldita-world @nikmikaelsonswife @mikaelson-emma @elijahs-wife @moon-child-writer @xoxo-nikki-xoxo @njeancastro316

#the originals #the vampire diaries #damon salvatore #damon salvatore fanfiction #damon Salvatore x reader #reader insert #fluff week #Damon Salvatore fics #Damon Salvatore one shot #is this even fluff?#Y'all I'm gonna admit that im having trouble writing this week #Dom does fluff #we'll see how the day goes

201 notes · View notes

light-yaers · 4 years ago

Text

No Saints: Chapter One

This content is explicit and is 18+

Warnings: Graphic sexual content, violence, implied effects of PTSD, death and explicit language.

Read on Ao3 here | Fic Masterpost

A/N: Hey everyone! So, after some consideration, I’ve also decided to post each No Saints chapter on individual Tumblr posts, as well as Ao3. I know some people like reading things on Tumblr and it must just seem easier if there are actual chapters uploaded to here as well. I’ll be posting them all over the next few days and then we’ll be all caught up!

This also means that I can now have a TAG LIST, so if you’d like to be notified for when Chapter Nine comes out, then please tell me and I’ll tag you when I update next.

Once again please excuse any small spelling or grammar mistakes. No beta we die like men.

Word Count - 7.3k

Chapter One

Working as a mechanic on Nevarro didn’t often gift you the visual of friendly faces, and that was no different with the Mandalorian—he never showed his face. You wouldn’t know his smile even if he decided to wake up one day without slotting Beskar all over his body.

But you knew his stance, the broadness of his shoulders, his preference for short range blasters with the safety close enough for his index finger to reach before firing at will. You didn’t really know people on Nevarro, but you knew their weapon of choice.

It was knowledge that had ended up being valuable, both to your survival, and to that of the Mandalorian.

“I’ll pay you for this information,” He offered bluntly. He never begged, nor did he show his true emotions within his modulated voice very often. The only vague emotion you’d seen him give off was anger—seething and insatiable— the first time he’d ever approached you for a repair.

“What good will this information give you?” You asked, genuinely. “I don’t know their names, this is hunter country. No one ever gives away their identity,”

“A weapon needs someone doing the firing,” He replied simply.

You agreed to his terms, partly from the initial fear that he would harm you, think you to be working against the Guild, but also from the generous sum he was willing to give you for every piece of information you passed onto him.

And thus, began a sort-of partnership that you’d never expected.

You were no saint. You knew the damage done by the goods you willingly sold to trained killers, assassins, Guild members. You saw the bodies dragged from their ships to the Guild, you saw the bounties that went out, kicking and screaming and spitting at their captors—

You saw the blood and dirt and flakes of flesh with every weapon upgrade or repair, but now, you didn’t bat an eye. It was business, it was your livelihood, and it was good money, thanks this this agreement with the Mandalorian that you’d made a while back.

Mando arrived back on Nevarro every few weeks. His condition was always subject to review; sometimes he flowed through your doors, ready for a quick exchange; other times, he took his time with it, sitting opposite you as you went through the recent repair logs, discussing the types of people that came through your doors.

Over the months, however, he always ended up sticking around for longer periods of time. Whether it was from earlier exhaustion, or the normalcy of having a conversation that didn’t end in bloodshed, you didn’t mind. He was the only constant in your life, splitting up your weeks and months when, before, honest interaction had basically been at zero.

“Are you not worried?” He asked one evening. It was late, and your shop was technically closed. You’d awoken to the subtle clicks of your entrance being lockpicked, hoisting yourself out of bed in nothing but your nightwear and grabbing the blaster you kept by your pillow.

You’d rushed to the shop front, aiming your blaster right at his chrome covered head. He’d raised his hands immediately, not once going for his own weapon. The feeling in the pit of your stomach as you lowered your weapon hadn’t been one of anxiety, but of warmth—he trusted you enough not to grab his weapon, not to even incline that he was going to shoot you.

“Worried about what?” You replied, flicking through the logbook.

“A bounty escaping, knowing that you shared this information,” You stopped flicking through the pages, freezing slightly where you sat opposite him. You sensed his sudden unease, deciding to look up directly into his visor.

“Tell me this, Mando,” You began. “What’s my name?”

He looked at you blankly, but you liked to imagine what facial expression he pulled beneath his helmet. In this moment, you imagined he was almost panicking, trying desperately to think back at what your name could be. It’d been over six months, yet names were never properly discussed. His silence proved that he’d just realised this.

“See? You don’t know it. My face is somewhat known here, sure, but my name? I try not to share it as much as you try not to show your face,” You sent him a raised brow smirk. Innately, you felt you had a responsibility to come across stronger than you looked, which is why you shoved down those subtle flickers of anxiety that arose from his question.

Sure, you had those doubts, anyone would. But living on Nevarro, doing what you did, it was an element of the job that you simply had to expect. You suspected Mando also knew that feeling well.

“You’re single-handedly keeping me in business, Mando,” You chuffed, almost sadly, but kept up an unbothered attitude. “I wasn’t going to turn this down and all these months down the line, no matter the danger, wouldn’t change that.” You ended, and you could have sworn you heard him breathe out, almost as if he was relieved that you knew these conditions from the beginning.

You kept flicking through the logbook, until you finally stumbled across a repair. “Here it is,” You perked up, shuffling yourself round so Mando could see the book over your shoulder. Your index finger grazed the page, just underneath the line he was looking for. “Repaired his blaster pistol last month. He didn’t look like a hunter, more like a scared blurrg, from what I can recall,”

“Young? Old?” Mando questioned.

“On the young side, definitely. Looked more like a runaway than anything else,” You added, feeling a strange pang of guilt in your chest. Usually, you divulged the weapon information of other hunters gone rogue, wanted by the Guild; assassins and thieves, or whatever other dirt washed up on Nevarro and in your shop.

This, however—you remembered him. He was young, he was scared, shaking like a newly born calf when he’d bumbled into your shop.

“That fits the bill,” Mando stated, before rising from his seat. You followed suit, making your way back round your front work desk and slotting the logbook beneath it. You tried to keep your expression blunt when you turned back to him, but you couldn’t help the wave of overthinking that landed in your brain.

You stared at him, leaning against the desk until your shoulders rose to cover your neck. You couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a sigh, but evidently that was enough for you to get the Mandalorian’s attention.

“What?” He spoke harshly, in the same old modulated boom you were used to hearing. You forced yourself to stay still, trying desperately to find his eyes beneath the abyss of his dark visor, but of course it was no use.

“Don’t break into my shop next time,” You diverted your emotions. “Just knock if it’s after hours,”

Mando nodded once, the moonlight gleaming off the chrome that surrounded his face for just a second, before disappearing once more. He shuffled a leather gloved hand through his satchel for just a few seconds, before approaching you at the work desk.

Unceremoniously, he placed your pay in front of you, each credit dropping with a small ping against the metal surface.

“See you,” Mando said bluntly. You nodded in return, before the Beskar covered man left your shop swiftly, shutting your door gently on his way out. You stared at the credits disapprovingly, before going to relock the door behind him.

You forced yourself to shuffle through your pay, counting the credits so you could note them in your budget, but you furrowed your brows as you finished rounding them up. You must have counted them wrong—there were an extra five hundred credits than what you’d agreed with the Mandalorian all those months ago.

Shaking your head, you went about recounting them, only to get to the same exact outcome. Was it an honest mistake in his counting, or had he overpaid you? Tipped you, helped you, heard the way your voice had almost faltered when you’d told him he was keeping you afloat?

You were awash with a new type of conflict—somewhere between thanks and extreme anger. The thanks were certain; he’d listened, and he hadn’t needed to do that, but he’d done it anyway. The anger; this implied you owed him now. As much as you’d come to enjoy his occasional visits every few weeks, the man was still an utter mystery to you. You didn’t want him to have the option of springing up in here and asking for a favour, knowing that he’d done one for you prior.

But there was still a warmth—it came subtly and out of the blue often, when you were around him. You could have slapped yourself at how fast it came this time round, taking you by surprise and speeding your heart rate up beneath your ribs.

He’s a bounty hunter. Get over it.

You placed your usual cut in your savings bundle, in the safe by your bed, but the extra five hundred stayed out of that bag. You shuffled back into bed with no indication of tiredness flooding over you again. All you saw in the static darkness of your grimy bedroom was the outline of that damn helmet—

And the wonder of what lay beneath.

The next week and a half was long and soul-crushingly slow. You’d had about three repair requests total, completing them all in a matter of hours, not making more than a few thousand credits from the sales. Nevarro had seemed restless recently, with less hunters returning to the Guild for more pucks. Maybe it was just a slow week.

Mando arrived back in the evening again, after you closed your doors early for the weekend. The sunlight trickled over Nevarro sparsely, but that evening was particularly warm, so you decided to have some fun.

Your shop had a back courtyard, nothing major, but you’d transformed it into a mini-firing range a year or so back. You were firing a classic blaster when you heard him approach from behind you—you jumped out of your skin at the sight of him, blaster raised, defensive stance donned.

“I told you to knock, Mando,” You boomed out, clutching your heart and switching the safety on your blaster immediately. Mando raised his arms in subtle apology, but you could have sworn you saw the subtle shake of his shoulders beneath the Beskar.

“You sounded... busy,” He spoke, and you squinted at him, feeling your cheeks flushing. The bastard was laughing. He was silently giggling beneath his helmet, the only indication of his lapse of stoicism being from the tiniest movement of his chest and shoulders, almost indecipherable.

You shot him an amused scowl. “Did you—,”

“I locked it,” He replied, already knowing what you were asking. You gulped down surprise at his immediate response, turning back to your makeshift firing range and trying desperately to calm yourself down.

Now, you were a strong woman, that was no question. But the constant mystery of the last six months in Mando’s presence had provided you with more than you’d bargained for. Was it a reflex to suddenly feel invested in this guy’s life after a while? To want to know his backstory, his missions, his favourite breakfast food or blaster style?

The extra credits from your previous trade had only increased these feelings. What was it about a man in a mask? Or, more specifically, what was it about Mando?

And now, as you awkwardly struggled with the safety on a blaster you’d been firing since you were twelve fucking years old, all you could think about was the tone of his voice as he’d said I locked it.

“You shoot?” Mando questioned, moving round to stand next to you. You shot him a smirk, trying to conceal the thoughts within your head.

“I don’t just repair blasters, if that’s what you mean,” You could have cringed at how cocky you’d sounded, but it was too late.

“Show me,” He spoke. He didn’t demand it, but the way his voice arched it was as if he could make anyone do anything he said, just from the steadiness of that modulated drawl.

You did as you were told. You shook off your limbs subtly, before flicking off the safety and aiming at the targets you’d made. In flashes of green, you hit one, two, three targets with ease, right in the centre of their bullseye.

You changed it up, feeling a surge of confidence, or perhaps the want to impress this stoic man. Skilfully, you flipped the blaster in your hands until it had transferred to your other hand, firing another three times on the same targets and hitting them dead centre once more.

Your index finger clicked the safety on, before you stood in place, admiring the shots you’d fired.

“Try this one,” He said beside you, before he plucked the blaster from your hand and replaced it with this own weapon. You looked it over as it slotted into your grasp. It was heavier than yours, bigger, with a more distanced safety, probably because of the hand width that the Mandalorian possessed.

You furrowed your brows at his blaster, smiling at the way the steel glinted. It was well cared for, polished and gleaming, but slightly worn away around the trigger. Well-used. His own personalised weapon.

You raised the blaster towards the targets, all too aware of the way that chrome helmet was tilted towards you. You steadied your arm, applying just the right amount of pressure against the trigger, before it fired in quick succession—

You analysed the blast fire, the weight, the wind, fixing your trajectory upon impact with the trigger in a matter of milliseconds. When you stopped firing, overseeing the new collection of burning holes in the targets, you realised you’d hit them all dead centre again.

To your delight, or to your utter amazement, Mando let out a low, long whistle from beneath his Beskar.

“That’s a custom weapon,” He spoke afterwards, moving to stand before you. “Not many people could change their shooting style like that to fit the blast radius,” It was the closest thing to a compliment that you’d ever heard him offer.

You stayed silent as he replaced his blaster with your own once more, sheathing his weapon before his visor looked straight into your soul. It was shameful, how you realised you could probably stand there and analyse the chiselled and curved edges of his helmet for hours, how if you focused strongly, you could see him breathing beneath his heavy armour.

You forced yourself to step back, looking back towards the shop. “Right—business,” You said, heading inside immediately with Mando following on your tail.

You dropped your blaster on your work desk, grabbing the logbook and getting ready to flick through it once more, before Mando spoke up.

“I seek no information today,” He revealed. You froze, before slotting the logbook back beneath the desk slowly, trying to wrap your mind around his reason for visiting you.

“Okay,” You said, upon rising from beneath the desk once more. All of a sudden, you remembered his money—burning a hole in the safe in your room. You perked up, slapping your hands on the desk for lack of what the fuck to even do before getting round to almost scolding this man. “Then, I have a bone to pick with you,”

Mando dropped himself onto his usual stool, flicking his cape behind him and leaning back in subtle comfort. You swallowed, trying not to interpret anything from his clearly at ease behaviour, before heading to your bedroom quickly.

“Not the first time I’ve heard that,” He spoke up from the shop floor, and your heart skipped. Was that an attempt at a joke? At some comedy? You had to stop yourself, as you got to the floor and riffled through your safe for his overpaid credits, from allowing a warmth to spread through your gut.

You wanted to curse, as loud as you could. Had it really been that long that you were getting flustered over words from a Mandalorian? Undoubtedly the most hostile and unwelcoming people the galaxy had?

Or, was it just Mando himself that had you overthinking every sentence, every visit?

Credits secured in your fist, you made your way back out to the shop, dropping yourself opposite him and grabbing his arm suddenly, not stopping to think that this man could probably break you in half with his bare hands.

You dropped the credits in his gloved hand, sitting back as he stared at the pellets he now cradled in his palm.

“Not what we agreed,” Is all you said in explanation, picking up a tankard of water and sipping some down your throat, for lack of knowing how to cover up your neon cheeks after the exchange. The weather. It’s just the heat.

“I upped your pay,” He retorted.

“Bullshit, Mando,” You retaliated, allowing a few chuckles to escape your lips. Your face softened then, as you looked over to him, sitting awkwardly, still not knowing what to do with the returned credits. “Your money is your money, Mando. I’m fine with what we agreed,”

His fingers finally clasped around the credits, as his body went back to relax against the wall once more.

“Your shop,” Mando began. “You said I keep you in business,”

“That doesn’t mean I want more of your credits. Owning a washed-up weapons repair shop on kriffing Nevarro isn’t ideal, but neither is being a bounty hunter,”

“You’d earn more as a hunter with the way you shoot,” Mando replied instantly. You perked your brow, sending him a small smile.

“Are you saying I’m not a good weapons mechanic?”

You almost burst out laughing with the way Mando straightened himself, immediately being on edge. His fists tightened, almost as if he was suddenly overthinking if he’d insulted you or not.

“N-no,” He partially stuttered out, but you couldn’t keep your laughter contained. You burst out in giggles, overseeing his complete lack of sarcastic understanding. It was endearing; it made him appear more human.

“Joke, Mando. It was a joke,”

He relaxed after that once more, albeit more hesitantly. He went to slot the credits back in his bag placed on the floor, and as he did so, you allowed yourself to indulge. Beskar gleamed as he leant down, showing the twist of his torso and outlining strong triceps on the small amount of him that was unarmoured.

His neck was slender, compared to the size of his helmet. You wondered how the hell he wore that thing constantly. It didn’t look light, nor did you expect it to be all that comfortable.

If he saw you gawking when he rose once more, he didn’t make any indication of noticing. To avoid revealing what you’d been doing, you moved to cross your legs as a save. “So, why’re you here?” You finally asked, remembering that he had no reason to have visited you.

Mando tensed up slightly at your question, but not enough to come across as surprised. He’d already admitted to not needing information from you today.

“Habit,” He replied honestly. His one-word answer cut through you like a knife, striking your core and filling it with that warmth one again. It wasn’t often that you felt exposed, but sat opposite him, in your home, hearing him be so unapologetically honest had simply made those thoughts rise to the forefront of your mind once more.

You wanted to know him, but you also knew that asking him these things would result in nothing good.

You forced yourself to swallow down these rising wants, to push them away completely, before putting on a small smile. “That’s a funny way of saying that I’m your only friend,”

All effort to force those feelings away dissolved, as soon as you heard the low, modulated chuckles from beneath his helmet. They floated through the room, along with the image of his shaking shoulders and tight chest as his laughter tumbled to the floor.

You felt your cheeks flush immediately, knowing that it would be a noticeable blush. You grabbed your tankard, bringing it to your lips as you continued to indulge in looking at him, as he calmed down from the small burst of laughter that he allowed himself to show you.

There was something pulsing within you that you simply couldn’t contain; that want; that desire, after so long without knowing anyone on this godforsaken planet. Before you could stop yourself, words were already tumbling from your mouth.

“I don’t see many people on this planet, besides you,” You admitted. Mando slowly turned his visor to you, making it known that you had his full attention.

You immediately felt too vulnerable, resulting in you standing from your seat and heading round to your work desk, slamming the tankard down on the top. “It’s... well, it’s nice. I hope that, even if you don’t need information, you continue to come by,”

You held your breath as soon as you stopped talking, too afraid that you’d overstepped a line. Not that this transaction with him had ever been professional, but you knew Mandalorian’s were inherently focused on their job, and their job only.

When he didn’t reply, or move, or do anything, you started to panic. You played it off as best as you could, by downing the rest of the water in your tankard and averting your gaze to beneath your work desk, like you had the immediate need to start taking inventory.

Mando rose a few moments later, grabbing his satchel and placing it over his shoulder. The breath caught in your throat as he approached your desk. You almost gasped as a gloved hand reached for your forearm, dragging it out to hover in front of him.

He dropped the five hundred credits into your palm as your eyes flicked over his helmet at light speed. He stepped back, removing his grip from you and placing his visor upon your face one last time, before turning on his heels and heading for the door.

He unlocked it, but didn’t open it. You felt your pounding heartbeat as he cleared his throat.

“It is,” He let out lowly. “Nice.”

The door swooped open and shut behind him gently before you could say anything in return.

He didn’t come back the next week. You wondered if you’d scared him off, if your tiny confession of enjoying his company was too much.

You thought back to the way he’d said the word— Nice— as if it wasn’t something that was often spoken in his vocabulary. For a man of little words, you were increasingly amazed at how he managed to convey things with his body alone, being weighed down and covered up by Beskar at all times.

The credits still weighed on you. You’d given them back to him, you’d made yourself clear, but then he’d given them back and left without a trace.

You prayed to some god out there that it wasn’t a Mandalorian way of saying goodbye. From what you knew of Mandalore, which was very little, you knew they weren’t the gift giving types, but it still made you think.

Yet all that he’d done, despite the deal, the trade of information and the abrupt middle of the night awakenings, those small attempts at light-hearted banter and void visits had given you just a shred of hope.

People on Nevarro were cut-throat, you knew that better than most after making your home there for so long. That’s why this shook you to your core, sparking this unlikely partnership with someone such as Mando.

Stars, you missed him. It sounded ridiculous when you said it in your head, but you did. Contact was little to none on this planet.

You didn’t speak more than a sentence to people needing repairs. You didn’t sit down and talk, and fuck, the loneliness was something you were used to— yet six months of regular meetings, even just to trade information, had offered you a warmth you hadn’t realised you’d missed—

Until he was gone.

It wasn’t until three weeks later that you ventured out of the shop, certain that you were going mad. You hardly frequented the bar at the entrance of the city, choosing to stay safe and locked away in your small isolation inside the shop, but the absence of people was sucking you dry.

You entered the bar, making sure not to seem out of place. It was still an odd feeling, seeing people sitting around and drinking. You knew a lot of the locals— returning customers for repairs, all of which were hunters.

Perhaps there was some unspoken understanding that you weren’t to be touched, as the small nods of hunters hit you when you accidentally met their eyes. It almost made you feel known, but at the same time you hadn’t felt much since that last conversation with the Beskar clad hunter.

You were heading towards the bar when a voice rang out behind you. “Miss!” You swivelled on your heels, hitting his eyes.

It was Greef Karga. You knew him, everyone on Nevarro did. He was the Guild contact here, the one that most hunters got their pucks from for the next job.

“Karga, hello,” You replied, not politely, but not harshly. Being polite got you nowhere on Nevarro, and you knew that despite his smiles and willingness to be friendly, Karga was a snake in the grass.

“Drink?” He questioned, and you found yourself accepting his offer. You made your way to his booth, slotting yourself in opposite him. He grabbed a bottle of blue liquor from the floor by his feet, clicking at the droid behind the bar for glasses. “What brings you here? You don’t usually venture from your establishment,”

You regarded him, all too aware of the blaster on your hip for safety.

“Slow few weeks. Fancied a change of scenery,” You replied bluntly.

“Ah yes, business is slower than usual currently,” He admitted. A droid placed two shot glasses on your table, scuttling back to the bar. Karga swiped them towards him, uncorking the bottle and filling up both glasses. “But your repairs are stellar, and I hear your custom blasters are best sellers,”

He dragged a glass towards you, which you took once he’d taken his hand away. You swilled the liquid around, trying not to look too despondent.

“Parts are sparse,” You admitted. “Fewer hunters need new gear. I’m starting to think there’s someone better than me on Nevarro,”

Karga let out a coarse laugh, which you first mistook for a chesty cough. His smile was indication enough, however, of the funniness he obviously though that required.

“No, my dear, there’s no one better,” He replied. You chose to ignore him calling you dear. Opposite you he raised his glass to the sky, prompting you to do the same. “To good business in future,”

You nodded at him in response, before downing the blue liquor in one gulp. It burned as it slinked down your throat, hitting your stomach and causing a warmth to spread through your gut. Nothing like the small conversations the Mandalorian gave you, but it made you feel something— and that was in short supply around here.

Karga sighed in refreshment after slamming his glass back on the table, but his gaze fixed on something behind you as you deposited your glass back down. “Ah, Mando!” He exclaimed.

Your heart stopped.

You stayed utterly frozen in place, feeling a mixture of anxiety and adrenaline surge through you.

“That was fast. I wasn’t expecting you back for another few days at least,” Karga continued.

You tried not to let the hurt surge through you. So, he had been back since your last meeting. He’d been back, and he hadn’t come to visit. You tried to rationalise your hurt— he held no obligation to stop by the shop, he held no responsibility, yet— you wished—

You wished he would have.

“I trust you know our resident weapons mechanic,” Karga continued, gesturing to you. You forced yourself to turn round and look at him— face to face. His helmet stared at you blankly in response, and you wondered what expression he held beneath.

Maybe it was annoyance, thinking he was finally rid of a nobody mechanic from the inner city.

Maybe it was surprise, or hurt, or pain. You knew that despite the immense effort you were putting in to keep your stare blunt, he’d see right through you.

“Yes,” Mando replied after what seemed like hours. You turned back to Karga, pushing your glass to the middle of the table in dismissal.

“Thanks for the drink. I’ll be going,” You got up swiftly, standing in front of Mando after leaving the booth. He looked down at you, chrome visor focusing on your eyeline. You found yourself flicking your eyes from the left and right, as if you could see the placement of his eyes beneath the helmet—

Then you looked away.

You sauntered out of the bar, ignoring exclaimed farewells from Karga as you booked it out of the bar, heading straight back to the shop. Your strides were fierce, your heart pounded painfully beneath your ribs and you couldn’t stop yourself from balling your fists.

You felt like screaming, but you kept your mouth shut and your jaw tense. You felt like punching, kicking, pounding something, but you didn’t, instead opting to breathe it out as you entered your shop and slammed the door shut behind you.

It’s fine. It’s fine.

You yelled at yourself to calm down, to accept that it was nothing. God forbid, you’d gotten worked up over the smallest indication of human interaction, from a man whose face you’d never fucking seen, no less.

It was stupid. You’d long grown out of enjoying fairy tales, and this wasn’t one. You were a grown woman, hyper-fixating over a six-month long dodgy deal with a bounty hunter that you didn’t fucking know— not really, anyway.

In a frenzy, you unsheathed your blaster, heading out to your courtyard. You fired at will, not stopping to aim your blaster or even try to hit the targets. When that got dull, you actually started to try—you positioned your feet parallel to your shoulders, straightening your spine and extending your neck—

You fired, hitting the targets dead centre every time, just like normal.

You fired until your trigger finger began to ache, until the incessant anger and hurt in your chest had dissipated to a low roar that you could manage in other ways—with the bottle of Coruscant whiskey that you only saved for special occasions; big deals, good months, and, evidently, to feel something other than red, hot and seething anger.

You went to sheath your blaster, when the hairs on the back of your neck pricked up—

You turned swiftly, raising your gun and keeping your eyes wide open. You faltered when you saw the familiar glint of moon rays on chrome. Mando stood in the courtyard doorway, just as he’d done the last time you’d seen him.

Your elbow buckled, dropping the blaster to your side as you kept yourself composed. You stared him down like you were unbothered to see him. You had a feeling he knew that wasn’t the case, though, and if he’d been there for a few minutes before then your incessant firing would have proven otherwise.

“Mando,” You spoke first, keeping your voice steady. “What information do you need this time?” You kept it professional, not wanting to think back about the way you’d been so blatantly vulnerable to him before. He probably thought you to be childish, over-emotional, idiotic.

You’d rather he thought you to be that, than weak.

“What were you doing with Karga?” He demanded it this time. His voice was low, lower than usual, despite the modulator. You sheathed your pistol, stepping towards him once. He didn’t move aside.

“Drinking,” You stated the obvious. You made a move to try and get past him, but a Beskar covered forearm leant up against the doorframe, stopping you even more so.

“He’s bad news,” He continued. You let out an annoyed scoff.

“I know who Karga is. Kriff—I live here,” You accidentally let your annoyance travel through your words, making it exceptionally clear that you were pissed, if it hadn’t been obvious before.

You grabbed his forearm, tugging it away from the doorframe and pushing your way inside. He let you pass eventually, watching as you grabbed a bottle of whiskey from beneath your work desk. You jumped up onto the desk, letting your legs droop over the side as you uncorked the bottle.

It was silent. You could tell he was trying to find something to say, to bring up the obvious tension, but you also got the sense that Mando didn’t often apologise.

Why should he? He didn’t promise to come back.

He hadn’t promised. You had no idea why you were so ticked off, yet there you were—seething, angry, hurt, perhaps on the brink of tears, but possibly relishing in the fact he’d come to the shop after your little encounter. You felt sick at your own feelings.

“Are you... mad at me?” He spoke finally. The breath caught in the back of your throat. His hesitation made it clear; he didn’t often delve into the workings of others. He was being kind by even asking you about this.

You felt like a dick. All of a sudden, you could see even more so that you were being incredibly irrational. Weeks of zero contact had turned you into a moron. A lonely, overthinking moron.

You glanced up at him, holding the whiskey between your thighs. You let out a sigh.

“No,” You let out. “I’m sorry. It’s been... a strange, few weeks,” You chuckled slightly after speaking, bringing the bottle to your lips and taking a small gulp. “Loneliness is a disease, Mandalorian,” You added, taking another sip and slotting the bottle back between your thighs.

Mando moved from the doorway, striding towards you slowly. You stayed in place, focusing on the warmth that the whiskey provided you with. You finally looked up when he stood before you, not close enough to slot between your hips, but close enough for your knees to graze against Beskar.

He reached out for the bottle, grabbing it from between your thighs and making his way around to the main shop. You went to turn, but the leather of his gloved hand slotted itself between your jaw and your neck, pushing your gaze to the back of the shop.

“Don’t look,” He told you, warningly.

You did as you were told, all the while counting your shallow breaths as they quietly shook from within your body. You heard the subtle glug of the bottle, the drip as the liquid sloshed around within the glass, and then the bottle was being slotted back between your thighs from behind.

Mando’s arm wrapped itself around you as he made sure it was back in place, his glove grazing over the top of your thigh and skimming your waist as he retracted his arm back. You’d be lying if you didn’t relish in those small touches.

They set your skin alight, despite there being no skin-to-skin contact involved. It was the closest he’d ever come to you, allowing the gentler side of himself to appear. You’d never see him this way; guard down, a softness to his voice and his unknowing gaze.

You knew that he’d just raised his helmet to take a sip of whiskey—that was enough to make you gulp back the desires within your gut. You couldn’t believe he’d felt comfortable enough to do that around you. You hesitantly turned, waiting to see if it was allowed, but fully turned to him when he didn’t push your gaze away like before.

You swivelled on the top of the desk, bringing your legs round to droop over the other side, while Mando grabbed his usual stool and dragged it closer to you.

He sat, sighing slightly as he did so, before looking up at you sat before him.

“Solitude,” He spoke. “I prefer that word,” His voice was soft. You knew he was tired just from the way he spoke; he was exhausted.

“Solitude implies a sense of peace,” You replied, stepping carefully over your words. “Do you feel peace in your ship, all alone?”

“Do you feel peace in this shop?” He hit back with, avoiding your question completely. You were about to say no, but you stopped yourself. This shop was all you had, all you knew. Your choice of loneliness, over solitude, was an obvious indication of the way it made you feel, and you wanted to bet that Mando knew that, but—

Without this life, you didn’t know where you’d be.

“It’s all I have,” You admitted, finally. He nodded subtly, not moving his visor from your face.

“And this,” He said, gesturing to the Beskar he donned. “Is all I know. This is the Way,”

You looked down, swinging your legs back and forth for lack of what to do. You wanted to know more—you always wanted to know more about Mando, that was a given. But right now, you wanted to ask him everything.

“Is that why you stopped coming here?” The words trickled from your lips pitifully, but you had no choice but to accept that you’d spoken them.

Mando was silent for a few moments, but he made no indication of looking away from you. You wondered if, beneath the helmet, he was actually looking at you. Maybe he was zoning out, or was focused on the wall behind your head instead.

“I feared continuing to visit you would become a habit I could no longer break,”

There it was—that warmth. It erupted within your gut, winding its way up your spine and neck, circling down your limbs and to the spot between your legs that you always chose to ignore. You tensed up immediately, forgetting about the whiskey bottle between your thighs as the sensation only increased the wobble of your upper thighs.

“Like you said,” Mando continued, and you could have sworn that his voice sounded strained. Like he was holding back, like his body was almost forcing him to stay quiet. He stood suddenly, causing a small gasp to leave your lips involuntarily, as he strode forward to slot himself partially between your legs. “Loneliness is a disease,”

You went jelloid when a hesitant hand was placed on your thigh—

Stars, it’s been a while.

You were slowly beginning to unwind, as Mando placed his other hand on the opposing thigh, slotting himself further between your legs. As much as you wanted to speed this up, to feel skin touch skin, you didn’t know if that was actually possible for the Mandalorian.

“M-Mando,” You stuttered out, but it only made his grip tighten around your plump skin. You instinctively raised your hands to his chest, feeling the smoothness of his Beskar. “Just— wait,” You managed out, despite all of your senses not wanting him to stop what he was doing. His visor shot to your face quickly and his hands fluttered away from your thighs.

You wanted to cry— that’s not what you’d meant—

You swiped your hands across his Beskar chest plate, reaching down for his large forearms. You heard the breath hitch in the back of his throat, as a small moan escaped his modulator.

You placed his arms back on your legs slowly, but he still looked on his guard, wondering what you had to say.

“Loneliness is a disease,” You spluttered out. Your cheeks were flushed a neon red, and you could feel the rapid heartbeat erupting from beneath your ribs. “It’s— overwhelming,”

When he didn’t move or speak, you wanted to kick yourself. Had you done it again? Revealed something that was too much and reduced yourself to a vulnerable mess? For a moment, you thought Mando could smell the weakness within you, but even you didn’t realise you’d unwind this fast at the most subtle of touches from the Mandalorian.

You froze when he raised a gloved hand to pinch your chin. His thumb was firm but gentle, his other fingers curled just beneath your jaw, and his stare was unwavering.

Stars, your whole body throbbed at his touch. You wanted more, but you also didn’t want it to end as quickly as it had started, and you’d meant what you’d said— overwhelming. It was a red, hot heat that you hadn’t felt in years, it was something that you’d have to get used to again, and from the fumbling touches that Mando gave you, you felt he might be in the same boat.

His thumb slowly made its way to your mouth, gliding back and forth over your bottom lip. You were positively glowing, feeling the intimate touch of the hunter for the first time after what seemed like months of fantasy—

You’d had dreams of him, falling asleep to the image of his helmet or the way he slumped on your stool every so often, so desperate to see what lay beneath his armour.

“You’re overwhelmed?” He needlessly questioned. The way his voice trickled all over you was enough to make your body surge towards his once more. You had to stop yourself from reaching for his waistband, overcome with a hunger that you hadn’t been expecting. “It’s okay. We have time,”

With five simple words you could have collapsed to the floor right there. All too soon, his touch vanished from your skin. You leant forward has he removed himself from you, stepping back while you tried desperately to get his touch back.

The whiskey bottle between your legs slipped suddenly, toppling from its place between your thighs as you realised you’d started to open your legs wider where he’d stood between your hips. You grappled at air to try and stop it falling, but it fell from the desk—

Right into a skilful gloved hand. Mando gripped the bottle with a ferocity that you knew he’d wanted to grip you with, before stepping forward once more. He slotted the bottle between your thighs once more, but right in the nook of your upper thighs—

You shivered uncontrollably as both hands came to cradle your thighs, pushing them together to keep the bottle in place.

You watched, defeated, as he picked up his satchel from the floor and slung it over his shoulder, staring at you atop the desk when he was ready to leave.

“If I see you drinking with Karga again, I won’t be as gentle,” Despite his efforts to keep his voice strong, you heard the breathy way he spoke.

It filled you with a confidence that had disappeared as soon as he’d first placed the bottle back between your legs.

“You’ll have to catch me first,” You challenged. You couldn’t stop yourself from sending a smirk his way, and it had the desired effect—

Mando dropped his helmet to the floor as the most subtle of groans escaped his lips. He swivelled and turned, heading for the door immediately afterwards.

He opened it, letting in the cold Nevarro air. You watched as he slinked out of the door, pulling it shut from the outside—

And then there was silence. You breathed out a shaky breath that you didn’t realise you’d been holding, grabbing the whiskey and taking a large gulp as you tried to regain your composure fully.

You went to bed that night utterly elated, his chrome visor appearing behind your eyes all the same.

Feel free to send things to my ask box or message me!

#din djarin x reader #no saints #no saints fic #din djarin #pedro pascal #star wars #star wars fic #star wars fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #smut and fluff #smut and angst #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian smut #fanfiction #ao3 #wattpad

113 notes · View notes

thehopeofitalll · 4 years ago

Text

“How do you destroy a monster without becoming one?”

just a really angsty fic written by me and my friend (but she isn't here on tumblr)

Prompts: •“I-I can’t stop it, I'm sorry.” •“It's okay, It's okay, Just breathe. You don't have to be sorry for anything, I've got you.” •“I thought if I acted like it didn't matter, it wouldn't” •“How do you destroy a monster without becoming one”

read it on ao3.

-🦉-

Annabeth woke up, rays of sunlight streaming into Percy’s cabin. She reached out for Percy but her hand just ended up swatting the air. She turned to see that Percy was not there, her eyebrows raised in confusion.

She figured she’d probably find Percy at breakfast, so she got up and put on an extra set of clothes she kept in his cabin.

Walking out of the cabin, she saw Will and Nico heading out for breakfast too and picked up her pace in order to catch up to them. When she finally caught up to them she asked them if either of them had seen Percy recently.

Nico shrugged, while Will muttered a faint huh. “He came into the clinic for some bandages at an ungodly hour in the morning,” Will replied. “I think I remember that his hand was kinda bruised.”

“That’s...weird,” Annabeth mumbled.

Ever since they'd been in the pit, Annabeth had made Percy promise to tell her everything, no matter how dangerous the situation was. It had partly been the reason why they convinced Chiron, with the promise to buy lots of Frank Sinatra vinyls for him, to let them sleep in the same cabin. They had to explain that they needed each other to be there when they had nightmares. No one else could console them.

Annabeth was numbly thinking of this, worried why Percy hadn’t told her as she walked into the dining pavilion. But as she sat besides Malcom and looked towards the Big 3 table, Percy was nowhere to be found. She scarfed down her breakfast and headed out in search of him.

She started out by searching for him in the strawberry fields, but no one in the Demeter cabin had seen him there. She searched by the lake, and the satyrs and nymphs told her that he had not come by in more than a week.

That hit Annabeth as strange because he had told her he was going to the lake multiple times that week. She was now extremely confused.

When she finally found him in the sword fighting arena, he was punching a dummy with his bare fists, which had bloodied bandages wrapped around them.

She called out to him. “Percy! Seaweed Brain?”

But it was as if he couldn't hear her. He went on punching, his fists slamming against the poor dummy until it fell back with one last punch.

“Percy!” She exclaimed, pulling his hand, making him turn around. He almost punched her, but then stilled when he saw her.

“Oh, hi. What are you doing here?”

“Oh hi? And what am I doing here?” She repeated. “I’ve been searching for you since this morning, Perce!”

He just shrugged. “Oh I didn't realize what time it was, I’m sorry,” he mumbled, disinterested. He turned, beginning to walk away from her.

She grabs his hand and says “Percy, we’ve talked about this, you aren't saving me from anything by keeping secrets,” Annabeth said, forcing him to look at her. “We’ve promised to share everything with each other. Remember?”

“I do, it’s just…” He trailed off, refusing to meet her eyes. “I’m okay, Annabeth. It’s nothing, really.”

“And you've been here since when?” She asked, her eyes scanning his bloodied hands.

“Like, since 5 in the morning maybe?” He said, shrugging.

It pained Annabeth to see him so indifferent, so humorless, dull and monotone.

“Come, let’s get you some food, I’m sure you have something to eat in your cabin,” Annabeth said,

But as they were heading back to the cabin, Rachel came up to them and said “I don't feel so good,” and her eyes fogged up, green smoke spouting out of her mouth.

As soon as Annabeth heard the raspy voice of the Oracle say “The son of poseidon shall…” she knew this day was only going to get worse.

-🌊-

“Percy?” Annabeth’s voice rang in his ears. “Did you hear the prophecy?”

“Yeah,” he mumbled, sounding disinterested. “I did.”

If he was being honest, the only thing he heard was owl and he was firm in the decision of not letting Annabeth come with him on a quest. Not now, when he’d been having dreams of her death. And partly, because he didn’t want her to see who, or what he’d become...

Annabeth said something he didn’t hear. Then he felt her shake his shoulders. “Percy? Percy!”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Do you wanna come with me to the Big House and tell Chiron?”

“Yeah...no, I’m kind of hungry,” Percy said

-🌊-

Chiron rose up at his table in his dining pavilion. “Rachel, our Oracle, has given a prophecy today,” he announced in his booming voice. “And it seems that Percy Jackson, along with an owl and skull have to go. Nico is the obvious choice, being the son of Hades. As for the owl…”

Annabeth stood up. “I’ll go.”

“I was thinking Malcolm could come along with us,” Percy said.

Annabeth glanced at Percy, raising an eyebrow. “Are you being serious?”

“What?” He asked, raising his hands. “Malcolm’s a son of Athena too?”

“But Malcolm just came back fr0m a quest!”

“I mean I don’t mind going,” Malcolm said

Annabeth gave Malcolm a glare, one that Percy had only seen a few times but dreaded. Malcolm gulped. “On second thought, maybe I should take some rest,” he said.

“And besides, I’m cabin counselor, and this seems like a pretty big quest!”

“Well, the cabin counselor needs to be here! To...defend the camp?” Percy tried to counter.

“Percy that’s bullshit and you know it,” Annabeth said, glaring at him.

“Okay, hold on. Percy, Annabeth has a point here, she’s the person best fit for the job,” Chiron

“Chiron, really?! ” He said, standing up. Anger built up inside him, ready to burst. He clenched his fists. The goblets on the camper’s tables started to shake, some falling on to the floor, their content spilling onto the floor. He didn’t care how many goblets he spilled, but when his eyes fell on Annabeth, and he saw her eyes wide, as if she was afraid of him, he snapped out of it.

“I wasn’t hungry anyways,” he mumbled and stormed out of the dining pavilion.

-🦉-

Annabeth followed him out the pavilion. “Percy!” she yelled, running to catch up with him. “Percy, you don’t get to storm away from me with no explanation like that!”

“Yes I do,” she heard him mutter.

She grabbed his arm, firmly stopping him, and standing in front of him. “Percy, what’s going on? First, everything that happened in the morning and now this? You promised you wouldn't keep anything from me!”

“It’s nothing really, Annabeth,” he said, refusing to meet her eyes.

“It certainly doesn’t seem like nothing,” she said. “Percy, just tell me what’s bothering you. I know I can help you out.”

“It’s just..I’ve been having these dreams...about…”

Annabeth hesitated. She’d had her own fair share of dreams recently, none of them exactly pleasant. “About?” she asked.

“About...you dying,” he said.

Her eyes softened, as she sighed, lacing her fingers through his. “Percy, you wanted to stop me from coming with you on a quest because you had a dream of me dying?”

“Well, yes but still-”

“Percy, it was just a dream. Nothing’s going to happen to me, okay?” she reassured him.

“Yeah,” he said. “I guess you’re right.”

She smiled at him, then leaned forwards, kissing him on the cheek. “I’ll be alright. We’ll be alright.”

-🌊-

Percy went through the routine of getting ready for a quest with only one thing on his mind: He would keep Annabeth safe, no matter what he had to do.

-🦉-

Annabeth packed for the quest: considering strategies, storing some nectar and ambrosia along with her drakon bone sword, but her mind kept drifting to one thing: Finding out what was bothering Percy. She didn’t like him being so distant, and Annabeth had a hunch that it might be about her.

-🦉-

It had been a week since they’d left camp for their quest. A week of Annabeth trying to get through to Percy and him repeatedly pushing her away. She just wished he understood that she wanted to help him and didn’t want him to hide things from her.

They were currently making their way back to camp on foot. Nico insisted that he could shadow-travel, but Annabeth took one look at his pale skin before deciding that it was safer to not shadow-travel.

(And she knew Will wouldn’t appreciate it if they came back with a fainted boyfriend.)

Nico trudged a little behind Annabeth, who was leading the trio, and Percy was beside her.

She shot her boyfriend another worried look.

He must have noticed because he stiffened a bit, and turned to see her. “What?” he asked, sounding slightly defensive.

“Nothing, Percy, it’s just…” Annabeth sighed. “I’m worried. About you. It feels like something’s changed between us.”

“Everything’s the same, Annabeth,” he muttered.

“No, Perce, it’s not,” she said, wringing her hands helplessly. “Something’s bothering you, I know that.”

“You don’t know everything about me,” Percy said.

She stopped, reaching for his arm. “Percy, please,” she said, trying not to think about how their relationship was falling apart.

“I’m fine,” he said, sounding half-hearted. “Everything’s fine.”

“Percy-”

“Uh, guys?” Nico said, from behind them. Annabeth had almost forgotten that he was there too. “This place feels a little weird.”

She frowned, and placed her hand on a nearby tree. There were slight tremors, as the tree faintly shook.

“Something’s coming,” she said. “Gather up and take a flank.” She reached for her drakon bone sword.

Percy’s hand settled on Riptide’s hilt, as Nico pulled out his Stygian blade.

She frowned, her grey eyes scanning their surroundings for even the subtlest movement.

A figure flew overhead, and she looked up to see a creature with wings. Stymphalian birds, she had time to think before three more swooped in.

“What-?” Nico began, when they noticed vaguely humanoid shapes with brazen legs shuffling towards them.

“Stymphalian birds and empousai?” Annabeth asked, groaning. “It must be our lucky day.”

She turned, stabbing an empousa in the gut, then slashed her sword in a wide arc, driving back the other monsters. She and Percy stood shoulder to shoulder, and Annabeth allowed the thought to comfort her even in the midst of a battle: At least one thing hadn’t changed.

Nico slammed the butt of his sword against another empousa, as Percy brought Riptide down on a bird, slicing it in two.

Just as Annabeth killed an empousa, another lunged towards her, and she swung her sword. She gripped the hilt of her sword and drove it through another monster. Her eyes did a quick three-sixty, and widened in alarm as she saw a bird flying towards Percy, whose back was turned.

She ran, meeting the bird before it could harm Percy. She raised her sword, fighting off its’ razor-sharp teeth. Before she could stab it, the bird charged towards her, running its deadly metal feathers against her arm.

Annabeth let out a shriek of pain, staggering back as the bird quickly sunk its teeth into her injured arm.

Percy turned, shock clear on his face, fending off the bird. He clutched his sword tighter. Through her hazy vision, she could see him concentrating, gritting his teeth.

It first started with an empousa letting out a scream, another one following its lead. The Stymphalian birds slowed down, some falling to the ground. The monsters began crumpling, dropping dead.

She realized with a start that Percy was controlling them. She forcefully stopped herself from thinking about their time with Akhlys.

She’d been scared then, and she was scared now.

Though Percy rarely showed it, the son of Poseidon had absolute power. He could remove the water from someone’s body, and even the thought of that was terrifying.

“Percy!” She yelled. Annabeth saw the monsters slowly wither away, but some still writhed in pain. “Percy, stop!”

Nico stared at Percy with sheer terror on his face, as Annabeth struggled to move towards him.

“Percy!” Her voice broke into a sob. “Percy, please!”

She miraculously managed to reach him, tugging on his arm that was curled into a fist. “Percy, stop please!”

Her voice must have gotten through to him because he opened up his palms, stumbling backwards.

She glanced at Nico, and a silent understanding seemed to pass through them.

“Maybe we should to rest for a while,” Annabeth said, not letting go of Percy’s arm.

-🦉-

“You promised me,” Annabeth said, her voice barely a whisper but she knew Percy heard her. “That you wouldn’t do that again.”

Nico was curled up on the ground, sleeping soundly, as Annabeth pulled up her knees, resting her chin on them. Percy hadn’t spoken a word to her.

She heard him take in a deep breath. “How’s your arm?” He whispered.

“I told you that some things aren’t meant to be controlled the last time this happened,” she continued, ignoring his concern.

He shakily exhaled, maintaining his distance. “You shouldn’t have taken that hit for me.”

Annabeth wasn’t sure what hurt more: his reluctance to be open with her, or the fact that he stayed away.

“Why, Percy?” she asked, turning to see him looking at everything but her. She placed her hand over his. The way he flinched at the contact made her heart ache. “Why did you do it again?”

He looked at her for the first time since the incident. His eyes were filled with remorse. He looked broken. “I-I can’t stop it,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“Percy, this kind of power...it isn’t safe,” she said, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“You’re scared of me, aren’t you?” He asked, a searching gaze on his face.

“I could never be scared of you, Percy,” she replied, squeezing his hand. “But...never mind, we need to get back to camp.”

She pulled her hand away, missing his warmth almost immediately. “Hey, Nico? We need to get moving.”

-🌊-

Annabeth might’ve said that she wasn’t scared of him, but Percy knew. He just knew that what he did terrified her.

He was exactly like the empousai, and Stymphalian birds. Even if he didn’t want to admit, he’d experienced some sort of satisfaction when he controlled the monsters.

He felt disgusted with himself. With what he did. But he wasn’t thinking when he took control. He just knew that he needed to get them away from Annabeth. He felt powerful with adrenaline coursing through his veins. But just like before, Annabeth’s anguish broke through to him again.

Back at camp, he did everything he could to delay the moment he’d meet Annabeth again. The way she looked at him, horrified, replayed in his mind all the time.

Percy sat down at the beach, his hands pressed against the sand. He heard soft footsteps, and Annabeth sat down next to him.

“Hey,” he muttered, knowing that he couldn’t ignore the problem anymore.

“Hey, yourself,” she said, softly, taking his hand in hers.

He glanced at her to see her bandaged arm. That didn’t make him feel any better. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to talk to you,” she replied. When he opened his mouth to protest, she cut him off. “Look, Percy, I’m not dumb. I know you. You’ve been trying to avoid me and trying to postpone this conversation. But I can’t be like this anymore. We can’t be like this anymore. We need to sort everything out.”

Percy sighed. “I’m sorry.” It seemed like that was all he said these days. “I’m really sorry.” His eyes stung, and before he knew it, tears were falling down his cheeks.

He remembered his fear of drowning from his time on Argo II. Now, he felt like his throat was closing up, like he was suffocating in poisonous waves.

“Percy, it’s okay,” she said, her hands on the small of his back, and he gripped her hand tighter, like he was afraid she’d disappear if he blinked.

“No, no it’s not.”

“Listen, Percy,” she continued. “It's okay, It's okay, Just breathe. You don't have to be sorry for anything, I've got you.”

The thought that had been bothering Percy came back, a voice buzzing in his ear, asking a horrible question.

Percy turned to look at her, his mouth set in a firm line. “How do you destroy a monster without becoming one?” he asked her.

“A mons-Percy, what?” She said, confused.

“It’s just…” His head was pounding and he felt like he might break down any moment.

“Percy, please, just tell me what’s going on. You’ve been acting weird for weeks now,” she said. “I just want you to let me in. Don’t shut me out like this, Percy. Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

“This urge,” he slowly began. “To bloodbend. I’ve been controlling and suppressing it for a while now,” he muttered.

“What?” she asked. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared, Annabeth,” he admitted. “I’ve been having these nightmares, and they’re not just Tartarus. I see myself losing you, and it’s all my fault.”

“Percy-”

“And in a way, it almost happened, didn’t it?” He continued. “You harmed yourself trying to stop that stupid bird from attacking me.”

“I decided to do that,” she interrupted. “It was my choice, not yours, Percy.”

“But what good am I if I can't protect you?”

“Percy, that’s not true.”

“But it is!” He insisted. “I had to bloodbend back there. What if my usual power wasn’t strong enough? What if you…” died? He couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Percy, nothing of that sort would’ve happened,” she said. “We would’ve taken down those monsters just fine. Besides, we’ve gotta have each other’s backs, right?”

“I just...I thought if I acted like it didn't matter, it wouldn't,” he mumbled.

“Look, Seaweed Brain,” Annabeth said, lacing her fingers with his. “We promised to be open with each other. You shouldn’t hesitate to tell me about things like this, okay?”

“But-”

“I’m here for you, Percy,” she said. “There’s no need to carry this burden by yourself.”

Percy stared at her. When he tried to speak, she leant forwards, pressing her lips to his and effectively shutting him up. He tried to put everything he couldn’t bring himself to say in that kiss:

I’m sorry, I should’ve told you. I’ll tell you everything from now. I was just terrified of you dying. I love you.

They didn’t know how, but they fell asleep there on the beach, their legs tangled together as the sea lapped against their feet.

And for the first time in what seemed like forever, Percy didn’t have nightmares.

#percabeth #percabeth angst #dark percy #rick missed out on writing some quality dark percy and i shall stand by that #STILL horrible at tags? yep #the dam oneshots #hurt and comfort #post-tartarus #some good ol angst

74 notes · View notes

eyessharpweaponshot · 4 years ago

Note

hi there!! are there any fics you’re reading right now that you would recommend? i need something good after the season we’ve been given so far 😣

hello there!

I agree, this season has been disappointing - especially considering it’s the last one. but thankfully, our fandom is full of amazing writers that serve us goods regularly. I have so much to recommend, it’s a joke. so prepare for a long fic rec. In no particular order, let’s begin:

1. Chasin’ You - @burninghoneyatdusk

okay. you’re gonna see a bit of a theme with me in these fic recs because the authors I mention are some of my favourites in the world - sam being one of the TOP TIER ones. this fic is a modern au, written about clarke and bellamy as exes (a favourite trope of mine) that have went their separate ways. clarke has moved away and hasn’t kept tabs on bellamy but he's soared to the top as a country star, his hit single being about her and what they had. if there’s any fic from this list you need to start reading, it’s this one.

2. Voices in the Water - @burninghoneyatdusk

It’s the canon version we all wanted. set on earth, clarke’s aunt (nia) forces her into an arranged marriage with king bellamy to unite the clans. but under it all, nia has tasked her to kill him. obviously, as clarke falls in love with bellamy, it’s the one task wanheda probably can’t complete. I'm in love with the imagery and descriptions in this fic. there are honestly some lines that sam writes that I want to frame and put up in my house. absolute brilliance.

3. All Because of You - @burninghoneyatdusk

*sheepishly raises hand* - hi, it’s me again, fangirling over another one of sam’s fics. if you have followed me for a while, either here or on twitter, you’ll have seen me screaming about this fic. I've pulled over while driving to read an update that came through to my email. no lie. I don’t say this lightly but it is definitely in my top 3 favourite bellarke fics of all time. sam DELIVERS with this one. bellamy knocks up his sister’s best friend when they’re both young and they grow together in raising their daughter. this fic flashes between present and future in the most seamless way and we see how in love they were back then but too scared to admit it, combined with how in love they are now that they are mature and older - but yet can’t seem to take the leap. I can’t tell you enough how good this fic is. I'm in love and it’s one of those fics that I would happily have as a book on my bookshelf, the pages worn and falling out from the amount of times that I re-read it.

*I just want to note that sam is doing a fantastic job at running @bellarkefic-for-blm. This is an opportunity for the bellarke community to directly support the Black Lives Matter cause through reading and writing fanfiction. For every fanfiction prompt a participating writer receives, they ask that you donate to an organization that supports the BLM cause. This initiative includes non-bellarke the 100 ships and requests for other content (e.g. gif sets, icons, moodboards, fanart). please check them out and request a prompt (this also includes updates for the above mentioned fics)*

4. Count Your Teeth - @icantloseyou-too

let me tell you, you guys will be well fed after reading this fic. It’s one of the most original idea’s and we get so much bellarke and the blake siblings in this one. bellamy is a treasure hunter and married to clarke, after leaving his thieving days behind him. that is until his past comes knocking and drags him back into that world again - and clarke along with him. absolute chefs kiss!

5. Cups and Sorcerers - @icantloseyou-too

again, such a unique plot with just the right amount of fluff. clarke is a witch who owns a coffee shop and she ends up meeting someone just as unique as her. I’m invested in this to an embarrassing degree and it always puts me in a good mood when this fic is updated. such a light and heart filling read and ciara does a fantastic job of world building in this fic.

6. Paint me in Trust - @pawprinterfanfic

I'm sure this fic needs no introduction. everyone and their mother has heard of it and if you haven’t read it yet, believe me, you’re missing out. a harry potter au that runs alongside the last few movies without being involved with the main characters. essie manages to make an already existing world so different, thrilling and gripping. it emotionally upends you and takes you along for the ride without any intention of letting you off. I'm just in love with it and rightly so!

7. When the Wolves Come Home - @pawprinterfanfic

I don’t know how people aren’t RAVING about this fic more because I certainly am. it’s massive for me to even say this because I love all of essie’s work but it’s my favourite fic that she’s written. I can’t describe the feeling I get when I read how she’s written bellarke in this. it’s a percy jackson au but you don’t need to have knowledge of that world to enjoy this. I actually started reading the books because of this fic. essie writes it so well and incorporates a lot of fantastic elements from greek mythology while also keeping me on the edge of my seat with bellarke’s journey. HERE FOR IT ALL THE WAY.

8. I’ll Find You in the Morning Sun - @cominguproses13x

I’ve never seen a fic talked about as much as this one. with 60 chapters, it’s bound to satisfy any hunger you have for bellarke. it’s set in a post apocalyptic world and it is beyond a shadow of a doubt, my favourite setting to read bellarke in. I've actually stopped reading this fic on chapter 5 because im currently writing my own post apocalyptic au as it was a trope on my bingo card and I don’t want any subconscious spill over, but I fully intend on reading the rest of the fic in one go once my fic is published and done. it deserves all the praise and hype.

9. For Blue Skies - @kombellarke

kayla’s fics make me actually weep. her writing style is just unbelievable and she sucks me into stories so fast. this one is no different. I live and breathe for bellarke as exes and this fic is one of my favourites. it’s a modern au with clarke as a mother and she cascades back into bellamy’s life without warning. perfect angst and anticipation. in love.

10. Love Like Fools - @talistheintrovert

the way I love talis with my whole heart. I'm always obsessed with her fics and the way this one was written was just magnificent. enemies to friends to lovers, roommates, angst, emotional comforting? SIGN ME UP. the perfect mix of all of those and I felt so good after reading this. always a fan.

11. It Had To Be You - @useyourtelescope

I had the honour of pre-reading some of this fic before it was published and I felt so privileged. a regency au with a prank war sprinkled in? perfection. hana honestly writes this so beautifully and I can’t recommend this enough. it’s so unique and we are all so incredibly lucky that there’s something in the bellarke fic world for everyone.

12. Veni, Vidi, Vinci - @carrieeve

Again, proof of the pudding that there’s something in fic for everyone. I’ve never read one like this before and it THRILLED me. murphy and bellamy working together to steal a Vinci? it was the fic I never knew I needed. the bellarke interaction in this was beautifully written and I am just completely obsessed. we really struck gold with the bellarke big bang works this year.

13. A Twist of Fate - @queenemori

let’s be honest, soulmate au’s are always wanted and needed in this fandom and kara does an excellent job of serving us this one. we got some team cockroach in here along with some top tier quality bellarke. what more could you ask for? if you haven’t read this fic yet, you need to. so thankful for kara being the absolute gifted babe that she is.

14. Power Over Me - @sparklyfairymira

okay, if you recently watched the witcher on netflix like I did, believe me, you NEED to read this fic. if you haven’t watched the witcher, this fic will make you want to watch it. the smut in this, the plot, the WRITING. absolutely phenomenal. have I mentioned how lucky we are to have such fantastic writers in this fandom?

15. There’s a Serpent Lying Deep Down in These Still Waters - @shaeheda

post apocalyptic au? SIGN ME UP. bellarke thrown together in unkind circumstances? SIGN ME UP. this magnificent human writing a fic? SIGN ME THE FUCK UP. I'm so in love with this fic already and I haven’t even finished it yet. as I've said, I've stopped reading fics in this genre until my own is completed but I’ve read enough to tell you that this needs to be on your next to read list. forever in awe of the talent here and this fic makes me feel so lucky to be part of something so great.

I hope this satisfies you for a while and that you enjoy all the bellarkey goodness that comes from these fics. I'm gonna drop some of mine below because why not? just in case you’re in need of something more.

1. I Found Peace in Your Violence

clarke griffin has it all. she’s popular, an artistic prodigy and has a wealthy family to boot. so when her perfect world comes crashing down around her, it’s time to sink or swim. she tests positive for the Homicidal Tendency Syndrome gene, also known as the kill gene. clarke is plucked from her comfortable life and placed into a school with people just like her - carriers, delinquents. when she meets bellamy blake there, he looks like everything they say HTS carriers are. a monster, a criminal. yet, he’s the one who protects her.

2. I Am Lost This Time

a void!bellamy fic that we all deserved to have happen in canon. an au where bellamy hears clarke’s radio calls from earth, sees her memories in m-cap and where she really is the key: the one that unlocks his memories and brings him back to her.

3. Purple, Blue, Orange, Red

bellarke are childhood friends and teenage lovers, reuniting in the midst of the same grief that tore them apart.

4. Devil Side

post apocalyptic setting and my favourite fic to have ever written. both of them coming together to survive and protect those in their family, including two small children. bellarke started out as strangers, who would have thought that they’d end up co-parenting in the middle of a world that is too dangerous to survive out in the open?

5. Waste It on Me

a soulmate/reincarnation au that I wrote based off my own breakup and feelings. probably my most popular fic and should keep you going in terms of bellarke feels.

#bellarke #the 100 #bellarke fanfiction #bellarke fic rec #fic recommendations #jensfic #eyessharpweaponshot #wonderful writers #wonderful fics

297 notes · View notes

theodorecanaryhood · 4 years ago

Text

Family

Jason Todd x female reader

Reader takes Jason home to meet the family, but Jason sees why reader was reluctant to let her family meet him.

You'd been with Jason for 8 months now and you were already a big part of his life, even his family's lives. They loved you deeply, almost as much as Jason.

However, he hasn't met your family yet and he is very confused as to why. You don't really seem to talk much about them.

'Doll, I'm sure they will be great' Jason rolls down the phone to you. 'They will love me I'm sure' he continues.

'Jason I'm ot saying that they won't like you, I'm just saying that you might not like them' you inform.

'Whay does that mean?' He asks intrigued, you sigh a little.

'My family is, complicated. But I guess you'll see when you meet them' you finish, walking down the street towards the little coffee shop in the corner to meet your mum and sister.

'OK, I'm sure it'll be fine, babe don't worry. I'll see you soon. I love you' Jason soothes down the phone. You smile brightly.

'I love you too' you say as you both end the call, walking over to the table outside your mum spots you.

'Y/n, so good to see you again' she says as she stands up and hugs you tight. You return the hug, but not as enthusiastic. Then your sister stands up.

'Hey' she smiles as she leans over to hug you, you return the hug. Even more non enthusiastic, your relationship was always awkward with your sister. She's 10 years older and has always been jealous of you. You're prettier, more that you make more of an effort with your appearance, you're smarter, work harder and earn more money. Plus, she's still single, and never really had a boyfriend.

'So, how are you guys?' You asked as you stand next to the table where they're seated.

'Good, we've been great. You?' Your mum asks trying to make a conversation, you shrug a little.

'Fine I guess. You guys want a coffee? My treat' you wink,

'I'll have a americano' your sister replies,

'Latte' your mum follows, you nod a little and pull out your purse.

'Sweet, I'll be right back' you say, going inside to get the orders.

'She seems different, does she seem different to you?' Your sister asks your mother, your Mother, Janet, just shrugs a little.

'Happier, maybe a little distant' your mother finishes, your sister starts to have a little blush and starts smiling as she tries to hide her face.

'Don't look, but there's a really hot guy staring at me over at that table' your sister whispers to your Mum.

'Really?' She replies, your sister just nods as she makes eye contact with the stranger. He's tall, black hair with a white streak, leather jacket, muscular build and a strong jaw.

'Here you go guys, sorry it took a while. Got a newby behind the counter' you say as you bring out the coffees, four as you got Jason's too seeing as he'll be here soon. Sitting opposite them with your back to the direction your sister is looking in.

'No worries' your mum smiles as she picks up her cup.

'What are you looking at?' You ask your sister, who's staring behind you.

'Oh my, he's coming over' your sister blushes harder.

'Who is?' You ask, just then a shadow comes behind you as someone approaches your table.

'Hey' you turn to look, it's Jason standing behind you.

'Hi' your sister flutters, you stand up and give Jason a kiss. Your sister's jaw dropping to the floor.

'Mum, y/s/n, this is my boyfriend Jason. Jason this is my Mum, Janet and my big sister y/s/n' you introduce everyone.

'Great to finally meet you' Jason smiles at them, your sister just giving you daggers from across the table. You weren't sure why though.

...

Coffee date with mum and sister was a success, although your sister did seem a little off. Your Mum kept looking at her funny, like she was signalling for her to shut up. You'd recognise it straight away, it's the same look you used to get when you were a kid.

'So this is your house huh? Like where you grew up?' Jason asks, breaking your thoughts.

'Yeah' you reply short, Jason looks at you with concern.

'You OK?' He asks, taking your hand, you just smile at him and squeeze his hand in reassurance.

'Baby girl' you hear your Dad shout from down the hall, he runs over and hugs you. However, unlike before, you hug him back just as tight.

'Who's this underwear model?' Your dad asks chuckling, you laugh a little.

'Daddy, this Jason. Jason this is my Dad' you smile, Jason takes his hand.

'Nice to meet you sir' Jason says, your Dad waves his hand a little.

'Call me Eric please' your Dad insists. Your Dad was the only relative you genuinely loved, he was the easiest person to get on with. And had the biggest heart.

...

Dinner with the family was it's usual, your Mother loved the sound of her own voice. Your sister kept checking her phone every 2 minutes. You and Jason just sat hoping this would end soon. Atleast your Dad was here.

'When did you guys get divorced?' Jason asks your parents,

'Few years ago, but I like to see my baby girl so I come and visit every now and then' your Dad replies.

You looked over at your sister who was on her phone on the other end of the table.

'Hey y/s/n, can you put your phone away please?' You ask nicely,

'Excuse me?' She snaps,

'We're having family dinner and you're being kind of rude, no phones at the table remember?' You continue, your sister gives you the evilest, most terrifying look you've ever seen someone give.

'Don't ever tell me what to do, you don't own me. Don't ever speak to me like that again' she growls, your Dad and Mum get up from the table.

'Leave the room please' your Dad calmly speaks to your sister,

'No, she gets everything. She gets the money, the attention. The hot boyfriend. I'm 10 years older and never had a boyfriend, she gets everything. I get treated like shit' your sister stands from her seat and shouts.

'Maybe if you stop acting like a bitch all the time, cleaned up a little. Weren't such an asshole then maybe a guy would stick around' you jump back in, Jason looks shocked, so do your parents. Your sister storms out of the room angry.

...

Back in your apartment, Jason walks in behind you. Not wanting to go back home yet to make sure you're ok.

'Are we gonna talk about this?' Jason asks you as you walk into the kitchen.

'There's nothing to talk about' you reply, not looking at him. You start to pour yourself a glass of whiskey to calm your shaking.

'Babe, you just had an argument with your sister. Then your Mum, you left before we could say anything else to them' Jason kind of raises his voice, he's not angry. Mostly shocked.

'That's my family, we argue. We fight. To be completely honest with you Jason, I hate my sister and my Mother' you turn to face him, 'my sister, my sister has always been jealous of anything I've had. Every boyfriend I've had, she's found some way to get rid of him. That's why I wouldn't let her meet you, cause I don't want you to leave too' you start to cry.

'I'm not gonna leave you' Jason purred to you, wrapping you in a hug, 'I love you too much to do that' he finishes.

'My Dad is the only part of my family I need, the rest of them, I'm not sure I ever want to see again' you speak into Jason's chest, hugging him back.

'Then you don't have to, if you don't want them in your life then that is your decision' Jason kisses the top of your head.

You stand with Jason, hugging each other until you feel yourself calming down. Knowing he's on your side is all you need. The people you care about in your life is all you need.

This isn't as long as I aimed to make it, it's loosely based around a recent falling out in my family which has caused me to stop speaking to my sister and Mother. But I still have my two brothers and my Dad. I also want to do a Nightwing fic so if any ideas please let me know.

Hope you liked the fic ☺ 😊

#red hood #gotham #jason todd #batman arkham series #batfamily #red hood fanfiction #dick grayson #nightwing #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x reader #jason todd fanfiction

106 notes · View notes

itsnsfwalways · 4 years ago

Text

Canyon Moon

A/N: WELCOME TO THE CANYON MOON FIC ! The chapters have to be split up and cut a lot shorter bc of sizing limits but I’m hoping you guys will still like it.

FIC MASTERLIST

WARNINGS FOR CHP. 1: swearing, mild drug use (weed)

CHAPTER ONE: the world’s happy waiting

The ocean has always been a calming place for you. Any body of water, really. The lapping of thewaves, the smell of salt, the course feeling of sand between your toes. It felt like home. So when you moved to Malibu, you found yourself lying on the beach until 4 am most nights, sometimes sleeping, but more often than not listening to music and writing.

Working as a songwriter for mostly just your friends, or as a fill in whenever someone wasn’t there, you were constantly writing. It was a lot easier to get deeper that way for you, not having to worry about sharing your secrets, and being able to mask it in other people’s voices. That being said, you had journals upon journals of your own songs. They were just for you, and occasionally your best friends, but it was something you were really proud of. After writing for the past 6 years, you’d like to think they were pretty good.

You’d gotten to your little spot around an hour ago, parking your pride and joy, an orange and yellow remodeled VW bus, which also functioned as your room most nights when you wanted to be out here, next to the sand.

The vibrant sunset had since dulled into a deep purple color, but it was still fairly light out. A small bonfire was lit in front of your blanket, keeping you a little extra warm even though it was still 70°.

Strumming your guitar, you moved away from the rock you were leaning against, a car’s headlights snapping you out of the haze you always got when you were out here. And also those two joints you had smoked already.

You raise your eyebrows at the fucking bright yellow Ferrari, hoping they were just stopping for a second.

Your prayers were ignored as a guy stepped out, a hoodie pulled over his head.

Shrugging your shoulders, you continue to play mindlessly, making up different melodies before creating a new one on top it.

Mr. Ferrari starts making his way over to you, which sends a flutter through your chest.

“Hey, just so you know, if you’re going to kill me, I’ve always wanted to die listening to Landslide by Fleetwood Mac,” you yell, grabbing your phone from your bag just in case.

The guy stops for a second and lets out a laugh.

“Definitely not trying to kill you,” he chuckles, and, oh, he’s British.

He comes closer and you come face to face with one of the prettiest people you’ve ever seen. Wearing a black hoodie with the words “Treat People With Kindness” embroidered on it, that’s cute, a pair of grey slacks, which you wouldn’t necessarily think of for beach attire, but he makes up for it by completing the look with no shoes.

“Do y’have a lighter I could borrow? Damn thing ran out and the gas station is just far away enough for it to be annoying.”

You laugh at that and nod, tossing him a random one from your bag.

“I feel that. I’m Y/N. Where you from?” You bluntly ask, because hey, he’s cute.

“Manchester, originally. Live near here now. You mind?” He asks, and you nod, scooting over to let him sit.

You’re hit with the smell of vanilla, leather, and just rich as he plops himself down, leaning against a rock a few feet away from you.

He points to your guitar, lips curled around the joint for a second before he inhales and asks,

“How long you been playing? Liked what you were doing earlier.”

You blush at this, barely remembering what you were doing.

“I have no fuckin clue. 14 years? Got my first guitar at 8 and fell in love.” You over exaggerated hugging your guitar, getting another laugh out of him, before you spit out,

“Oh, and thank you! I don’t really remember what I was doing to be honest. Just get in the zone sometimes. Do you play?”

He looks surprised at this, looking at you closely for a second.

“Uh, yeah, little bit. Been trying to learn more recently and kind of get my skills up.”

“Good for you! If you ever wanna play together, I’m literally always here. You sharing?” You smile, looking at his face in the orange light. His cheekbones are illuminated perfectly and you feel your throat go dry.

He nods and hands it to you, watching as you press the filter to your lips.

“What did you say your name was again?” You rack your brain and cannot remember him introducing himself.

“Didn’t. Harry, sorry that was a bit rude,” He mumbles, and you look at him funny.

“Are you like an FBI agent, Harry? Why so secret? And harassing young girls on the beach at night? With a fucking Ferrari? Come on, man, what’s your secret?” You tease, bumping your elbow into his side.

He laughs, shoving you with his shoulder lightly.

“Only harassing that’s going on is you interrogating me. But if I’m making you uncomfortable, I’ll leave right now. I should probably go, actually.” He rants, suddenly moving to get up. You turn your body quickly and lay your legs in his lap so he can’t move.

“You’re dumb. Secret, please?” You smile, blinking up at him.

He scoffs, shaking his head with a small smile, and pauses to run a hand through his hair. He takes a deep breath in before saying,

“I’m a musician, so that’s where the car and secret beach trips come in. I’m actually just starting to write for my next album, and I’m hitting a rut.”

“Oh shit, that’s what’s up! You’ll have to show me your stuff sometime. Sorry that I don’t know you, I’ve been living on the road for awhile so I listen to a lot of oldies. Plus, with hippie parents you don’t hear a lot of new music,” You explain, gesturing to your van.

He looks at you for a second before shaking his head, smiling to himself.

“What?” You grin, shoving his knee with your foot.

“You’re something else, s’all.”

“So I’ve been told.” A giggle falls from your lips as you lay down on the blanket, legs still in his lap, guitar now discarded to the side.

Looking up at the stars starting to form, you feel his gaze on you. Trying to figure out who this chick was, what stories she had, what witty remark was just past her lips.

“Question.” You say, propping your head up. Your hand finds it’s way on the back of your skull and you feel the blanket shift slightly underneath your elbow.

“Answer,” He responds with the same tone, tapping your knees with his fingertips.

“Would you wanna come with me so I can get a tattoo?”

He stops for a second and stares at you.

“Like, right now? You got an appointment?”

You grin and move off of him, ruffling his hair.

“Even better. I got cool friends.”

He takes his time packing up all your stuff, being as cautious enough to remind you not to cover the fire with sand in case someone stepped on it.

“This is my beach, Ferrari. No one comes here. Except handsome British guys, apparently.”

He looks up from the ground, where he’s stuffing your towel into your bag, and throws you a smirk.

“Thanks, baby. You’re gorgeous as well,”

“Blegh. Let me come introduce you to Sunflower,” you fake shudder at the pet name and he grins, pinching your side so he can laugh at your little jump.

You lead him over to your van, opening up the side door to show off your renovated home.

The entire thing was orange with white trim, big yellow sunflowers painted on the sides. The ceiling inside was painted a dark blue, the walls painted yellow.

A meditation rug was lying on the floor, a light brown wood flooring that matched the cabinets attached to the ceiling.

Your bed was all the way in the back, a simple white comforter on it. A mirror hung next to it, attached to the bathroom door. There was a small kitchen counter complete with a sink and a stovetop next to it. A small table folded out behind the drivers seat where a lounge area was located, orange cushions and fairy lights decorating the little couch.

All in all, it was a tiny fucking house in a car and you treated it like your baby.

“This is fucking sick,” he says, looking at the different artwork, posters, and decorations hanging all over the walls and cabinets.

“Thanks! Did it myself. Spent all summer working on it a few years back, I’m damn proud of it.”

There’s a pause for a second, trying to figure out how to best work this out.

“I’m cool to just leave my car here if you’re down to drive me. We’re going to one of my guy friends’ studio about thirty minutes from here,” you suggest, having a feeling Harry wouldn’t be down to leave his car here, no matter how secluded it was.

“Uh, okay. Should I be worried? Who knows what scoundrels you hang out with?” He teases, watching you go into the van to grab some things.

You glance back at him, laughing, before your breath catches in your throat. He’s since removed his hoodie and is left in a white tank top with small black print on the rib cage. Making a mental note to figure out what it says later, your eyes can’t help but drift to his arms. Illuminated in the car light, his biceps bulge as he rests his hands on the roof, leaning forward slightly into the car.

His tongue traces along his teeth, landing itself in his cheek as he watches you check him out.

“See something you like?” He asks, raising his eyebrows like he’s genuinely curious.

Your eyes flick back to his smirking face and you blink for a second, before responding with,

“Yeah, was trying to figure out what asshole uses a word like ‘scoundrel’ in 2018, what the fuck, Harry?”

He barks out a laugh and brings his fist up to his mouth to cover it, the other one coming down to hold his stomach.

“When you are done appreciating my humor, I need to change real quick. Spin around, please,” You come up from your squat and pull off your sweatshirt, not waiting for him to do that.

“Jesus, Y/N,” He exhales, spinning around and looking up at the sky.

“What? I gave you a warning,” you giggle, sliding your sweatpants down to slip into a pair of black volleyball shorts.

“By about half a second!” Harry exclaims. “You’re killing me.”

“Sorry, superstar, nobody is exempt from special treatment here.” You roll your eyes at yourself, what the fuck are you even saying.

“Mkay, you’re good.”

Harry spins around, eyes taking in your new outfit.

On top of your shorts was a giant Stevie Nicks shirt, one from her White Winged Dove tour.

“Shit, you might be a bigger Stevie fan than I am, and that’s saying a lot.”

“Fuck, you have no idea. My dad went to the fucking final show of this tour and met my mom in the crowd during Dreams. My mom made him play it when I was born because she swore Stevie brought me to them.”

You catch him staring at you and turn your head away, cheeks burning because you’re rambling and need to shut the fuck up.

He clears his throat and takes a breath before starting.

“Promise not to kill me when I tell you this?”

Holding your hand to your burning cheeks, you murmur,

“No.”

“Y/N!” Harry exclaims, finally coming in the van to tickle you.

“Okay, okay, I promise not to kill you,” You mock, waving your hands around.

“I was lucky enough to sing one of my songs with her along with Landslide and Leather and Lace.”

You drop your bag onto the ground as your jaw drops.

“Shut up. I don’t believe you.” You cross your arms over chest. “I don’t know if I’d be angrier if you’re lying or if it actually happened. Holy shit am I jealous.”

“Oh, I was crying onstage, losing my shit. She is, everything. Dreams was the first song I learned the words to, yknow? She truly is a magical being.”

“God. I’m definitely looking you up later because who the fuck sings one of THEIR songs with Stevie Nicks.” You sigh, leaning over to grab your bag and Doc Martens.

“Oh god.” Harry laughs, running a hand through his hair again, looking at you really intensely for a second.

“Not to sound like a dick, but do you really not know who I am?”

“I mean if you need your ego boosted I can lie?” You offer, before dropping the witty responses.

“But no, sorry. Like I said, I just.... don’t really listen to new music, and if I do it’s always my friends or some indie shit with an overused beat.” Harry laughs at that and you smile, yes, he’s not weirded out.

“Don’t apologize, please. I just, can’t be too sure, yknow? People like to use you, especially here. And you’re just a little too perfect to be true,” he sighs, pulling you closer to him by your waist.

Placing you hands on his chest, you look at him for a second before leaning forward and whisper in his ear,

“My tattoo awaits me, baby. Let’s go.”

He groans and leans his head on your shoulder, before letting you go and grabbing your bag for you.

Such a gentleman, you think to yourself, locking up Sunflower.

“Does your car have a cool name?” You ask, after buckling you, fingertips appreciating the rich black leather seat.

“Nope, but I’m good at nicknames. I’m gonna take a wild guess and say normal terms of endearment aren’t your thing?” He asks, making eye contact with you for a quick second as he puts his arm behind your seat before stretching slightly to look behind him as he pulls puts the car in reverse.

Looking up for a quick second, you remind yourself to breathe.

“You would be correct. Gotta use your brain if you wanna get me all jittery,” you tease, fanning yourself over exaggeratedly.

He gives you a side eye and smirks at you, popping a piece of gum in his mouth and raising his eyebrows, as if to say, game on.

“So where am I going?” He asks, starting to drive away from your special spot.

“Let us ask the oracle!” You hold out your phone like a trophy, before laughing to yourself and bringing up Google Maps.

Propping your phone up in the cupholder, you sit cross legged in just your socks in his seat, fidgeting with your hands for a second.

“I’m kind of intrigued on who you are now. What’s your story?” You ask, turning your head to look at him.

Harry glances over at you, eyes drifting to your bare legs for a second.

“Well, the short version, I guess, is I grew up in a little town in England with my mum and my sister, applied to X-Factor when I was 16, got put into a band called One Direction with four other lads, released couple albums with them until end of 2015. Then did a movie called Dunkirk, wrote and released my first solo album, and toured it. Just got back from tour about a month ago, actually.”

You look at him blankly for a second, and he shifts in his seat, removing one of his hands from the wheel to place it on the armrest.

“Holy SHIT am I unaccomplished,” you exclaim, hitting him in the chest.

“Hey!” he yells, but you cut him off.

“How many fucking albums is a couple? And how old are you, my god. That is impressive.”

“I’m 24, that probably should’ve been said before we’re alone in a car together. And 5 albums, in 5 years. Nearly killed us.”

“I’m 22. Damn, dude, that’s insane. It sounds like they horribly overworked you and I am hoping you were generously compensated and had a bit of musical freedom. I know how the music industry can be with boy bands.”

He nods for a second, licking his lips slightly, trying to figure out how to phrase his response.

“I’m not going to lie, there are some definite perks and I am so incredibly lucky to just be able to do what I love as my job.” His fingers find their way to his bottom lip, pinching it slightly. “It was fun, I mean, you throw a bunch of teenagers together and give them celebrity status? We were insane, and I enjoyed it. But.... it felt like I wasn’t a person anymore. I was just ‘Harry Styles from the boyband One Direction’.”

“I don’t necessarily understand but I think the fact that you came out this respectful and real says something. You seem to have your shit properly together, and, even if you don’t, you got back from tour two months ago! You deserve some relaxation. The world’s happy to wait for you to find yourself a little.”

Pausing for a second, you place your hand on his arm, squeezing it lightly before swearing,

“I hope you know I’m being genuine about not knowing you and latching on for fame. I’ll let your parents know my intentions with their son are all very pure.”

He laughs at that, glancing at you again,

“I appreciate you saying that. This life is wonderful, like I said, but it’s very stressful and puts pressure on every relationship. There’s always going to be stories or photos and rumors spread like wildfire.”

You shift in your seat, understanding that this was a very serious issue for him.

“Listen, I’ll let you know up front that that doesn’t bother me. I’ve dated musicians and know the life, I get it. I think you’re cool and that we could have a fun time experiencing real life together. But before we do that, you need to have fun and let everything the fuck GO. I’ll promise you right now, if you let me stick around, you’ll experience what life is. No fame or pining for success bullshit, no offense, but there’s no need for it. If you’re happy doing what you’re doing, no one can tell you you’re not successful.” Harry stops the car at a red light and fully turns to look at you.

He exhales harshly before grinning. “You are a breath of fresh fucking air, Y/N. I think you’re going to change my life, if I’m being honest here.”

“Here’s hoping,” you grin.

A/N: THE OFFICIAL FIRST CHAPTER IS UP !!! I’m hoping you guys will come to love this fic as much as I do. I’ll try to find a writing schedule that works with you guys and my work schedule, so sorry if chapters take a little bit to come up. This is going to be a looooong fic, so buckle up, turn that old lover’s hippie music on, and enjoy !!

- lana <3

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fic #canyon moon #sunflower vol 6 #multi chapter fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles smut #dom harry styles

84 notes · View notes

corancoranthemagicalman · 4 years ago

Text

C’s (1/?) Destiel Rec List:

That gets less and less coherent as it goes.

So here is a rec list by order in which I read them and not by preference. They’re like, All Destiel, because that’s how Post-November C rolls:

First on the list is The Courtship of Combat by bendingsignpost 18k

I KNOW it’s not Thee fic by bendingsignpost that everyone is talking about. I know. BUT, I dearly enjoyed it. It’s the first in a series and it’s A/B/O. (I know. I know. Don’t @ me. Or do.) It’s pre-relationship and the characters are definitely themed toward early-Destiel if you catch my drift. Omega!Dean’s hand is being fought over. This wouldn’t matter to Castiel except he totally told Michael that the reason he wouldn’t marry anyone is because he’s head over heels for the Winchester Omega that he doesn’t even have a real recollection of ever meeting. It’s like the perfect balance of a meet-cute and meet-ugly. I just LOVE bendingsignpost’s Castiel voice. It’s such a great characterization.

I’M GONNA SCREAM THE SECOND ON THE LIST IS ANOTHER A/B/O?!? I swear I don’t read that much A/B/O, but this is another exception because it’s Biological Imperatives (Or Not) by tiamatv 29k

Tiamatv is one of my favorite writers. If you’re unfamiliar with their work, I’m gonna rec more of it to you. No worries. THIS lovely piece of work is a Beta/Beta narrative that focuses on how hilarious A/B/O tropes are from an outsider perspective, but doesn’t do it in a way that feels insulting to the classical tropes. It’s just people living their lives where these situations happen not often but enough that they know how to deal with it. Dean and Cas have several first dates trying to figure out what’s happening between the two of them. Castiel is thee love of my life in this piece. And Dean’s headspace makes for a witty narrative.

If you know me at all, you know this next one HAD to be a regency and it’s Of Lords and Letters by MalMuses 14k

Dean is the master of the Winchester estate after his father passes. Unfortunately for the estate (but much to Dean’s pleasure), he can’t run it personally because he’s at war. Not that he likes war all that much, but it’s what he knows. War he knows. Sam is a conniving but well-meaning little brother and puts him in contact with Mister Castiel Shurley. (I KNOW. I KNOW. I allow Castiel Shurley in recent fics only if Chuck is cast as an asshole, and he is :)) But seriously, it’s SO Regency. There’s letters, pining, propriety, and men in period suits. What more could you ask for?

Y’all probably gonna immediately peg who I am as a person when I say Always Together, Eternally Apart by EmiliaOagi 27k is probably one of my top ten Destiel fics.

Here’s the thing—Ladyhawke is probably my second favorite movie in the entire world beat only by The Princess Bride. (Seriously, if y’all wanna bribe me with anything, it will always be that.) NOT ONLY does EmiliaOagi beautifully incorporate the source material, but once more Dean Winchester is SO Dean Winchester it hurts. This piece is from Sam’s perspective, and his running inner monologue is both insightful and entertaining. If you’re unfamiliar with the plot of Ladyhawke, I refuse to spoil it for you. Some things must be experienced, and this is one of them. Either by reading this lovely work or by viewing the original film, you’ll understand the legend that so captivates me.

OH ANOTHER DELICIOUS ONE and it’s like in that vein of Retired Hunters But Not Yet Together Destiel is Welcome to Pine Shores! by andimeantittosting (Saylee) 20k

It’s always fun reading Dean character studies, and this is definitely one of them. So the long and short of it is PINING FOR DAYS (this was written for Pinefest) and Dean trying to set up Cas with other people because he thinks Cas might want more. Oh, and did I mention they’ve been running this motel for like thirteen years? And they share a bed? *Tropes Intensify*

There is also Dean Winchester and the Patron Saint of Blind Dates by goldenraeofsun 18k which I think some of y’all are familiar with.

Sort of what it says on the tin, to be honest, folks. Dean’s friends set him up with some blind dates and the bartender—Castiel—grips his Purple Nurple tight and raises him from perdition. (And no, it’s not a euphemism.) The dates are sort of outrageously in character and interestingly enough this is a Sam/Ruby fic too! I sort of liked how it played out in this piece. If you’re worried about the Sam/Ruby dynamic, fear not! They were both former addicts and have since been clean for (a year or two? I don’t recall the time frame.) Dean has a love/hate sort of relationship with an emphasis on hate with Ruby since she’s the one who got Sam into drugs (allegory for the demon blood) but she’s also the one to try to go clean first. I just thought that was an interesting take, and one I would’ve linked to have seen the show pursue to be honest, but Supernatural has to keep the hot ladies dead or villains or both haha ;)) I digress. It’s a smaller read but the subject matter is pretty heavy. From former religious cults to the former addicts, please keep in mind if mentions of these things make you uncomfortable. It’s definitely the one whose subject matter stuck out the most to me. So apologize if I’ve missed mentioning anything specific for y’all in the previous recs or this one.

WAIT THIS NAME LOOKS FAMILIAR!??! IT’S andimeantittosting (Saylee) BACK AT IT AGAIN BUT THIS TIME WITH The Winchester Affair 34k !!

SAYLEE YOU HAD TO MAKE IT ONTO THIS LIST TWICE. Another Regency, except this time Castiel is long time friends (with benefits *eyebrow wiggles*) with Dean. He’s in love with him, obviously, so this means that an asshole named Zachariah that we all know and loathe comes around planning to frame his poor sister (Hael) with stealing Mary Winchester’s brooch if Castiel doesn’t find some damning evidence on the Winchesters for him. DRAMA AHOY!!! This is a very harlequin/regency novel. It’s actually based off of a novel called Ware the Marquess as is the wont of the Destiel Harlequin Challenge. Very good challenge to check out; very excellent fic to read. And the author so nice we listed them twice. ;) SIDE NOTE: This is totally one of those Regency ones where It Simply Isn’t Done, if you know what I mean. Like, no one is outright slurring or something that I can recall (and it isn’t tagged so I doubt there is), but it Isn’t Done, But They Love Each Other Very Much.

So you guys know Scoobynatural is my comfort episode, right? Well, one of my favorite things that I’ve delightfully discovered is the trope of building off of Cas’ one-liner about being effin’ married, so have The Nikkah by Maxine (WinchesterPooja) 28k!

Reads like a Case-fic as there’s an entire sub-plot happening with Sam. So this story happens well within the canon despite being canon-divergent. This one does end happy!! There’s a view episode like fics I might rec that end in canon-fashion with Dean repression and I love the pining and all but sometimes I need sweet fandom closure. Long and short of it: Djinn culture? Djinn queen? Fake-relationships? Sam dealing with nightmares? This baby can fit SO MUCH ACTION into a fic.

Okay, so you know the fic with the Bee Movie allegory? (It’ll come up on this reclist.) This has the same vibe, except for the relationship is out of order and Dean is Diagnosed with If I Do It This Way It’s Okay. Yeah, it’s Command Me to Be Well by prosopopeya 28k

Human Cas, back from the dead, post-finale, and Dean is trying to figure out how to get his happy ending. I’ve seen this one make the rounds on fic rec’ing so I think it’s a bit familiar, but I enjoyed it. Even though—as my bookmark says—I usually don’t go in for hurt/comforts with heavy on the hurt because my poor heart can’t take it. This is one of my few exceptions. This one has a healthy dose of Castiel standing up for himself with the bittersweet tang of him literally willing to do so much for Dean. But it’s a Dean perspective, so it really deals with a lot of his inner thoughts.

This one is,,,, in a similar vein as Command Me to Be Well. I guess I was in a mood. Baby, Come On Home by woodenducks 9k.

IT’S SEASON NINE WITH A SIDE OF PINE. What more could you ask for angst? Human Cas in Rexford trying to make a life for himself when all he wants is to go home. But he’s also trying to figure out what home even is for him. There’s a lot of drama between Dean and Cas, because of course Dean wants him there. But blah blah angels and blah blah whatever excuse the writers wanted so we couldn’t have human Cas and Dean in the bunker. We KNOW obviously the only thing keeping canon Dean from snapping was the fact that Cas was not human around him. *heavy eyeroll*. Anyways, this is a heartbreaking read from Castiel’s perspective.

One of my favorite Rescue Cas from the Empty fics is (they'll never break) the shape we take by auroralynches (teresavampa) 9k.

There’s this super cool concept of how Castiel experiences his regrets within the Empty and how Dean navigates through them to get to Castiel. I really enjoyed it, and of course the greatest love story ever told has got to have SOME theatrics and sentiments that are definitely reflected in this fic. My point is, I really love when Empty Rescue fics include analyzing Castiel’s regrets, and this one does so but from Dean’s perspective. As in Dean is viewing Castiel’s memories and trying to perceive his regrets.

Sooooo Epistolary by tiamatv 9k eh?

I love love LOVEEEEEE epistolary fics. I love them. I’ll always read them. And I totally told you I loved tiamatv. This is probably another one for the top ten fics just because it plays into my things. Love letters, music, and misunderstandings, oh my!!

HERE’S A VERY SEXY TERRIBLE LIFE ----> Ties that Bind Us by TheTwistedWillow 13k

Okay, so BASICALLY what if It’s A Terrible Life happened in like, circa-season 13 and Castiel was thrown in with Dean Smith and Sam Wesson. Literally all that I wanted in this fic. I do mean it’s sexy, by the way. I can’t even begin to explain this fic beyond it’s Castiel’s perspective, and he has some awareness that something is off. And being inside Castiel’s head when he’s not Castiel gets me every time.

OKAY I KNOW THIS IS THE THIRD A/B/O FIC ON THIS LIST I KNOW I KNOW The Mills School for Distinguished Girls by SillyBlue 13k IS WORTH IT THOUGH?!?!

Alpha Dean Winchester is going off to war. In the meantime, his family still doesn’t know about his marriage to Omega Castiel (in fact, they still think Castiel is a Beta.) Male Omegas are very rare in this universe, and it is addressed along with the fact that just because Castiel might look different on the outside doesn’t make him any different than the girls. Which I thought was a thought-provoking interpretation. There’s prejudices here—a lot of them against women and omegas—and a temporary character death which actually moved me to tears. I bookmarked this saying bring the tissues; bring the tissues.

THE BEE MOVIE FIC THE BEE MOVIE FIC THE BEE MOVI— according to all known laws of life by sobsicles 29k sobsicles I owe you a great slice of pie.

Sobsicles, my beloved, my bestie <3 (am I allowed to say that? I mean it affectionately. Well and truly.) You REALLY got in my head with this one. This is literally such an insane read that I read it twice in a row. Yeah, whoops. Cas is back from the empty and Dean is an asshole about it because feelings are hard. Here is what I bookmarked this fic with: “Dean Winchester has issues. He gets through them. Like a Bull in a China Shop, but he gets through them. The metaphor works.” And that is EXACTLY what happens. Dean is such an asshole and I LOVE IT. 14yr me would cry at the concept of reading this but 14yr me is a tasteless bitch. This is where it’s at. Dean has so much he’s mentally working through and Cas won’t take no shit and Sam is tired. It’s great. I love it. I know we rec sobsicles left and right over here (and I know there’s a new one I haven’t read yet) but this one is really my favorite. And I know some people feel uncertain when fics/authors get popular in a fandom, so if this isn’t for you that’s okay!! But well and truly this is just one of those in the top ten Destiel fics of my heart.

Baby Jack during the Widower Arc truther here like Trial and Tribulations of Raising a Nephilim by Sickandtiredofyou 14k

I’ve seen this one rec’d before but not enough. Like this one SHOULD be talked about. Because I am a Baby Jack Truther, and putting a baby in the widower arc is my literal weakness. Dean goes crib shopping. He paints the nursery. He does that season 2&3 thing he does where he wrecks something so that he has to rebuild it. He’s mourning. He’s crying. Sam is afraid to hold a baby. There’s a lot of emotions and they’re raw. Promise there’s a happy ending, but be ready to cry first.

Another sam pov because i love my little brother Letters to Nowhere by Goodluckdetective (scorpiontales) 28k

AWWW YES. So this is another Empty Rescue fic. This one plays up the Orpheus and Eurydice lore, but in a surprising twist this is Sam’s POV!! Sam doesn’t know the full story, and we as the audience aren’t granted omnipresence for this fic either. It’s just point blank is his emotions. Him worrying for Dean, missing Cas, and wanting a happy ending for all of them. It’s sort of epistolary with how Sam is texting Castiel’s phone, but in general it is Sam Winchester wanting to save both of his brothers. So despite it being Destiel, the Destiel is almost the background ship since this story is Sam’s story and how Sam witnesses their story. It’s pretty meta in that sense, in that he’s aware there’s this grand story going on and we as an audience know there’s this grand love story happening, but we’re reading Sam’s story.

One of those i mentioned where its like an episode and they just end with tension between them >:((( but SO enjoyable and very much like an actual MotW Soul Searching by Lottiethroughthelookingglass 13k

It is in a screenplay format, but I didn’t mind that. It’s definitely a fun read! I thought the characterizations were pretty grand all-in-all. No get together though in this one if you’re looking for Destiel. Sorry. But it does make its way on to the list because we deserved a body swap episode and never got it.

This is like the third fic by tia and im not sorry and it’s Filoplume by tiamatv 8k !!!!

Its SOULMATES BAYBEEEE!!! But it’s not destined Soulmates. It’s like… soul compatibility, but only AFTER you’ve forged the bond. Self-Made Soulmates as it were. Very achingly and lovingly sentimental. Like, I think I’ve read this one four times in one week? It’s the shortest rec on this list (and while I definitely have shorter works bookmarked, I wanted this rec list to be longer ones for some reason I guess) but it feels longer. Maybe because every paragraph is like a gut punch. egGH. It’s another Empty Rescue by-the-by and Dean’s soulmark (given to him by Cas after Castiel’s Despair Confession) helps get him into the Empty.

OHOHOH LEVERAGE AU!!?! The Jericho Job by giantteenwolforgy 20k

The first in a series and I am SO EXCITED FOR MORE. I absolutely adore Leverage, so seeing this was like clearing my skin with care products I’ve never used. The characterizations are amazingly well done and vivid. They feel so unbelievably real and it makes me an eager beaver to get to the meat of them connecting as a team and family, but the slow burn is well worth it.

Yes, yes, Dean needs him, and need = love for Dean’s vocab but what does dEAN WANT and what does want mean to Dean? Find out in if you try sometimes, well you just might find by JenTheSweetie 9k

I’ve always been a huge fan of metas that dissect Dean’s differeniation of need vs want, and this whole work was like one of those metas. It’s a Cas POV of him trying to figure out how to read this man that he knows so well. It pulls out the angst and it makes me ache, but promises there IS a happy ending and Dean WANTS it.

Shush you know you want Goodbye Stranger meets Detroit: Become Human you knOW YOU WANT IT Digital Heartbeat by Chancy_Lurking 14k

MHM IT’S SO GOOD. Talk about good characterization. This work is almost a time piece? There’s a few skips in the timeline but you get the good parts and what’s needed for a full narrative. Castiel is an android sent by Cyberlife to the Men of Letters for aiding in hunting. He’s—of course—assigned to the brothers Winchester.

Shush delicious content right here mwah Heartstring Promenade by SaltyWords (agent4hire22) 17k

Another Empty Rescue?!? Yeah, yeah it is. Dean is sort of reckless. And by that, I mean a lot. But it’s fine. All happy endings, and smutty endings too. ;))

This is one of two 36-questions inspired fics I’ve got bookmarked, but the sex in this one hits my preferences too perfectly so it gets the spot and this list is getting too long to include all of my bookmarks to include both of them anyways but Seek to Know You Better by ahurston 32k mhmmmmmm

This fic is very personal to me. I couldn’t explain even if you asked me to. It might be the Florida Citrus Tree expressionism in Cas’ thoughts, but idk it's such a mystery (the way you know me) by fleeceframe 20k has got it on the list.

Cas loses his memories for a short period of time. Dean and Sam introduce Castiel to Cas, and Dean and Cas have a heart to heart. <3

A vERY interesting premise in a fool's kind of careless by Paclipas 9k

Dean is SUPER off his game when he can’t tell the difference between Cas and Not-Cas over the summer. Canon-fic.

A FIC FROM 2018?!?! WITH TIME TRAVEL??!? Ye ye it is Crazy Diamonds by pantheon_of_discord 24k

Dean of 2018, married to Castiel, swaps places with his newly dragged from Hell 2008 self. Time shenanigans and Bobby Frickin’ Singer ensue.

This one is ONE I AM OBSESSED WITH ACTUALLY And Neither Do You by callsigntango 45k like if it's not the one everyone starts talking about :((( is SO GROSS how callsigntango describes the empty and i lOOOVEEEE ITTTTT. Also plays into a Florida myth I totally forgot about so high-key freaked me out. Hahah.

#spn #spn fics #destiel #destiel fics #destiel fan fic #fic rec #fan fic #rec list #a fan fic rec list #feel free to judge me <3 #or talk to me about these fics ???#they're great #let's start a book club and scream about writers

9 notes · View notes

thefanficmonster · 4 years ago

Text

Kick Some Ghost Ass

”Until Dawn Gang x Reader (Gender Neutral)

Warnings: Swearing, Sex jokes (excuse my bad humor)

Genre: CRACK, Humor

Summary: It’s one thing when trouble finds this gang, but why don’t we take a look at what happens when they go actively looking for trouble. Needless to say, chaos ensues and no one is spared. Some are more affected than others, and some are dead-ass traumatized, but isn’t that just how life is in general?

Requested by my dearest ever - Until Dawn Anon. Hi lovely! I’ve missed writing your requests and I’m really happy to be back, creating another chaotic fic! I’m sorry it has taken me so long to post it but here it finally is - crazy as ever! I hope you enjoy it! Love you to Blackwood Pines and back baby ❤❤❤

I don’t know how I’ve found myself in this situation but I’m not complaining. If I get to do dumb crazy shenanigans with my crew, I’m ready for just about anything. Not to mention I’m no stranger to ghost hunting. I’m that kid that made DIY Ouija boards and took them to cemeteries with their terrified friends. You should’ve seen us leaving after capturing no ghostly activity - my friends relieved as fuck, and me pissed as fuck.

But today, I’m not expecting nor will I be accepting any disappointment. Especially not with Jess swearing on her Chanel purse that she wasn’t making things up when she said she had a haunted house she wanted us to visit. I must say, I appreciate this group’s enthusiasm when it comes to the paranormal. Never have I had someone who catches my vibe on the subject so well, let alone an entire gang all sharing the same opinion as me - that ghosts, demons and poltergeists are so fucking cool. Sure, Emily took a bit of convincing and Jess is not one to give a shit about the other world creatures invisible to the human eye, but something allegedly happened that changed her mind.

Her a-hundred-and-something-year-old great-grandmother passed away recently and though the death itself didn’t shake Jess up as much as it probably should’ve, the events that followed led to this moment right now - the eleven of us pooling out of two minivans that have pulled up to a terrifying looking house in a wooded are of the suburbs. Jess literally gathered us all on an ‘emergency meeting’ in the courtyard of our college just so she could explain the situation in detail - she doesn’t do well with explaining things in general, let alone when she’s hysterical - so we only understood what she was trying to say when she mentioned the word ‘ghost’. That’s when we all started listening more closely, with the exception of Emily, Beth and Sam but the latter two were intrigued despite trying yo hide it. You can only imagine how excited Josh, Chris and I were, Mike and Matt following a close second behind. Ash was a tiny bit more hesitant but Chris convinced her to give in. And just like that, a week later, here we are.

“I gotta ask, did your great-gran own a VHS player? Or a chest in the attic? Bonus points if there’s a creepy, child-sized doll in there.“ Josh asks as he yanks all the equipment he insisted we bring out of the trunk of the minivan.

“Quit fucking around, Josh! This is serious!“ Jess complains from the spot she’s standing in, shivering in the cold autumn breeze.

“Yeah, Josh! VHS players, creepy dolls, that’s all child’s play.“ I scold him as I pull on my jacket, wrapping it around me more tightly, “Shit gets serious when there’s a secret basement.“

“Y/N!“ Jess shrieks in exasperation. Honesty, how am I supposed to NOT bother her when doing the opposite is so much easier and brings more amusement? “You’re not helping!“

“Wasn’t trying to.“ I wink at her, driving her into a new level of fury that almost leads her to chuck her phone at me. If it weren’t such a prized possession of hers, I’m pretty sure she would’ve chucked it with the intention of knocking me dead. I’m lucky she has the aim of a drunk toddler that spun around fifteen times.

“Hey, quit pissing my girlfriend off, will ya?!“ Mike, who is basically halfway inside the trunk of the other van calls out to us.

I roll my eyes but choose to let it slide. However, someone else doesn’t. Emily does a dramatic turn on her heel, turning to face Mike, or at least the only part of him which is visible. You can imagine how hard it is arguing with an ass like THAT. I don’t know how Emily does it but oh well, I guess I do it too, in a way.

“So it’s girlfriend now, huh? No space between the words?“ Oh that smile she’s flashing him, it could make the Devil himself shiver. I find it kinda hot though - it means shit’s about to go down or hit the fan, either way, the rest of us will be entertained.

Mikey boy straightens up, gracing the rest of us by-standers with his dazzling features. Nah, I’m capping. I honestly think Mike is as attractive as I am patient - very little, almost not at all. It’s surprising how him and Jess are now apparently together since I always pegged her to be the superficial type.

“Got a problem with that, Em?“ He asks, eyebrow raising, head tilting to the side. Oh yeah, it’s on now. But, as someone who’s been quite excited to do some ghost hunting, and also as a representative of the peanut gallery formed of the rest of us who find it amusing and annoying, I feel the need to cut it short before it goes where it shouldn’t. I came to see some exorcist shit, not Keeping Up With The Bitter Exs.

“Jess, I sure hope your grandma is a blood-thirsty ghost cause I can think of at least two people I’d serve to her on a silver platter.“ I snatch the keys the blond has been jingling nervously between her fingers and jog up the stairs to the front door.

Ok I maybe overexaggerated the eeriness of the house. It sure wouldn’t sit right with you if you saw it around sunset or at night, especially not if it’s foggy, but a horror movie house it is most certainly isn’t. It’s pristine and well kept, not a single crack in the walls, the only reason it’s unsettling is because: 1) We’ve all seen a few too many horror movies; 2) There’s been reports of ‘ghostly activity’ - as far as Jess is to be trusted.

While I’m surfing through all the keys, checking each and every single one of them on the door because the real key is unmarked, I can’t help but overhear the conversation going on behind me on the porch.

“Can you believe we got all this in a single day and for a discount on top of all?! Whoever says Craigslist sucks isn’t doing it right.“ Chris’ enthusiasm over the deal him and Josh got on the ghost hunting equipment has been what’s keeping a wide grin on his face this whole time. Though I’m proud of my boys for not getting murdered by the Craigslist seller, I must say I hate that I lost the bet we had - I had to pay them each ten bucks if they didn’t get scammed/kidnapped/murdered and I’m now twenty bucks poorer. I’m not saying I value those twenty bucks more than my friends, though my broke ass needs all the bucks it has and all the dollar bills it could get, but Lord knows I hate losing.

“Yeah, and the guy was only mildly sketchy.“ Josh adds just as excitedly and proudly, “To be honest, Cochise and I were probably the scary looking ones in that parking lot.“

A look over my shoulder shows the twins, Sam, Matt and Ash giving the duo skeptical and somewhat disappointing looks and shakes of their heads. I’ll admit, the equipment is in very good condition and it’s the complete set for ghost-hunting, according to BuzzFeed at least. I’m impressed with the purchase - probably had something to do with how scary Chris and Josh actually look. The all-nighters we’ve all been pulling lately have taken a toll on them worst with the dark circles and bags under their hollow eyes, pale faces and brains turned to mush. I know I’d give them a discount to avoid them pulling out meat cleavers on me.

“That’s all fine and dandy guys, but do you know how to work any of this?“ Sam asks, hesitantly lifting the EMF reader and turning it in her hand, analyzing it with a curious gaze.

Josh and Chris exchange a look before the former replies, “Just the cameras and voice recorder, the rest falls on them.” He points a finger at me and laughs, “Though they aren’t able to work something as simple as keys, they are more than qualified to be a ghostbuster.”

“You know, Josh, jokes on you, I can work keys! Jess, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be able to work well with organizing things, hence my problem with these keys.“ I hurl the bunch of keys connected my a scarlet keychain at Josh, “Lemme demonstrate my true skills.“ I hop down the flight of stone stairs and approach the pile of equipment the guys have created smack-dab in the middle of the house’s driveway.

“Oh, I gotta see this!” Mr. Ex-Class-President all but runs over, frowning when we all turn to look at him just as I pick up the spirit box to show off how it works, “Oh that’s what you meant. So you aren’t taking your clothes off?“

Jess and I are alike in one thing - the need we feel to chuck objects at people who piss us off. “You’re girlfriend is, like, right behind you, Munroe. Have some decency!”

“I was gonna enjoy a show as well, but I’m guessing we won’t be getting one.“ The girlfriend in question replies, looking at me quizzically as though that’s gonna convince me into discarding my outfit.

“No, unless you’re a ghost.“ I point the device I’m holding at Mike, “But if your boyfriend here keeps acting up I might turn him into one.“

“That sounds kinda kinky.“ Beth’s comment surprises me. The wink she sends me even more so. “And I kinda like it.“

Ok, ok, ok, hold on.

Flirting with Munroe is one thing, but Beth is a completely different story. I can be threatening Mike with a knife one moment and cracking sex jokes with him over cold beer the next. While Beth actually has the ability to get me flustered and blushing, and my close relationship with her brother doesn’t help. Mother fucker can just whack me upside the head every time he catches me fussing over my silly crush on his sister.

“Ew, you too! Keep it in your pants or at least get a room.“ Emily doesn’t miss a beat when it comes to being herself. She’s truly a garbage bin full of treasure.

“We’d do the latter if SOMEONE could get the door open.” I glare daggers at Josh who is making hopeless attempts at what I was doing earlier - unlocking that damn door.

“I’d be more than happy to come through for you ladies.“ Mike says, getting in a stance of a runner before a race, his body directly opposite the door.

Oh I can’t wait to see where this is going. I SHOULD RECORD IT.

“Mike, it’s still breaking and entering and it’s still against the law even if the person’s dead.“ Sam points out, entering her mother-like mode, ruining the fun and causing me to pout at her. She gives me a look of disappointment - one worse than I’ve ever seen on my parents - so I just shut my trap before she can also express said disappointment through words and have me feeling guilty for the rest of the day.

A loud crash suddenly echoes causing us to turn our heads to look for the source of the terrifyingly startling sound. One glance is all it takes to put our minds at ease and a second one is enough to provoke different reactions in all of us - the broken window telling the story of where Josh has disappeared.

“What did I just say about breaking and entering?!“ Sam shouts after him while the vast majority of us are cracking up like hyaenas. Jess is just gaping at the broken window next to the front door in disbelief. She obviously can’t decide whether to join in on the fun or serve as back-up to Sam. Josh did technically damage private property that’s partially hers, but if you ask me it serves her right for not marking her keys.

“Sorry, I was too busy breaking the window to hear that part of the conversation!“ Josh’s apologetic smile appears on the other side of glassless frame. I can’t tell if he’s genuinely sorry or holding back laughter but either way, he looks innocent enough for Sam to let him off the hook as long as he doesn’t cause any more trouble - in which case: tough luck. Chris, Josh and I are nothing if not troublemakers, especially when we’re together. Chris tones it down when Ash’s around, and the same goes for Josh with Sam while I’m simply problematic regardless of who’s watching. My chaos is untamable, it’s a blessing and a curse and I love it, even though it’s landed me in hot water more than once. It’s nice to be around people on the same wavelength - chaos resides within this group and not a single one of us can hide it.

“At least we have a way in now.“ Ash offers Josh a helping hand in this argument after she recovers from the overwhelming fit of laughter. “I hope the broken window doesn’t anger your gran, Jess.“

The blond snaps out of her trance briefly, “No, she was a very sweet lady, but damn is Josh creative!” She hurries to correct herself, “Destructively creative.”

I hurry to correct her once again, “Chaotically creative.”

“Guys, do you mind coming in? It’s very creepy standing here alone!“ Josh calls out to us, looking over his shoulder at the interior of the house, “I’m expecting to be snatched and dragged to that secret basement we mentioned.“

“Mention it one more time and I swear to God-!“ Jess screams, fists tightened.

Before her angry wrath could crash atop us, we all make our way into the house through the broken window, carefully avoiding the shards of glass strewn about. One step inside and we’re met with the upmost of horror clichés - a drop in temperature. We’re all wearing thick hoodies because the weather outside is chilly in and of itself, but said hoodies aren’t as efficient at holding the house’s cold at bay and away from out skin.

Chris and Matt make their way in last, carrying the equipment consisting of three cameras, flashlights for everyone, an EMF reader, a spirit voice box, a voice recorder and a motion detector. I help them hand a light to each group member as well as a ghost-hunting device before we venture onward.

“If I were your grandma’s ghost, I’d be ten times more pissed about that window. It looks to me like that lady payed a lot of attention to keeping things in order.“ Matt comments while he examines the expensive looking painting hanging in the hallway.

I hear Emily scoff, “Unlike some.” but the remark is said so quickly and quietly I’m pretty sure I’m the only one who heard it.

Jess laughs, “She did like things in order, but she was never as strict as you might think. As I said, she was very sweet.“

“So do you just not take after her at all or were you adopted?“ Emily’s remarks are no longer a mumbled jumble of words, “No, nevermind, of course you’re not adopted. Your parents are smart people, they wouldn’t have chosen you if they had the chance.“

Jess laughs again, much more menacingly this time, causing me to exchange a look with Hannah who’s walking beside me. “Twenty bucks says one of them isn’t making it out of here.” It’s just a matter of time, to be honest. If not the lodge, or any party we’ve ever attended as a group, this haunted house is the perfect opportunity for a murder. We could even argue it was a ghost.

Luckily, the two cats clawing at each other’s throats don’t overhear, “No, my parents aren’t stupid, but your boyfriend clearly is. He chooses to date you! Or are you holding him captive or something.“

Ok that’s enough. I can tolerate a lot of things, but people calling one of my best friends stupid is not something I’m about to put up with, “How dare you call one of my hoes stupid?” I sneer at Jess, eyes narrowing.

“I thought I was your hoe too!“ She fights back, looking almost offended.

“Even more reason you shouldn’t have called him that! I don’t tolerate my hoes not respecting each other.“

I don’t get to see where this argument goes because Ashley’s shriek echoes throughout the hallway, stealing mine as well as the attention of everyone else.

“There’s a ghost in here!“ Making it to the doorway of the room she’s in first, I peak my head inside and see the EMF reader she’s holding going nuts as if it’s detected something.

“Don’t worry, Ash, there’s a dead cactus here. That’s not the ghost we’re looking for, is it?“ Chris, my amazingly bright friend says, quirking an eyebrow suggesting that remark was nothing short of dead-ass serious.

“Chris, darling, that’s not how it works. Cactuses are plants.“ I point out as sweetly as I can as to mask my laughter.

“Don’t the same ghostly rules apply?“ The genuine look of confusion he gives me almost makes me lose it.

“Ok children, leave the room, we need to set up a motion detector to be sure.“ Beth says with a tone that suggests she’s more than over our insanity. Jeez, count on her and Sam to start parenting us through our chaos. They are of high authority, must admit - one genuinely feels bad if they don’t comply to whatever these two girls demand.

We all pile out in the hallway while the twins set up this interesting motion detector with green dots. I don’t know what Jess’ granny looked like, but I bet that even the most unattractive of people would look hella good with this lighting. Thankfully the room is dark enough with the shutters closed and the curtains drawn, allowing the dots to be perfectly visible.

We stare at the minimalistic room littered with fluorescent green dots on every surface for maybe a minute or two but not much happens to the disappointment to some and relief to others. However, as if not wanting to let us down, the ghost makes a shy appearance if the shift of the green dots is anything to go by.

“Oh shit, is that a ghost?“ Chris whispers, sounding as amazed as I feel in this moment.

“It better be.“ I mutter in response, refusing to blink and risk missing anything important.

The sudden presence of the obnoxious noise of the spirit voice box makes us all jump. As I turn my head to glare at whoever’s using it, Josh speaks up. “Are you an attractive ghost?”

“Josh, that’s my great-grandmother, you ass!“ Jess barks with disgust in her voice.

In the meantime, I catch glimpse of Mike rolling up his sleeves. Oh shit, this ain’t good.

“I’ve been waiting for this!“ He shouts victoriously, cracking his knuckles.

Knowing this won’t end well, the first thing I do is snatch the camera from Chris’ hands and turn it on.

“Um, Mike, what do you mean?“ Sam’s back to being concerned, turning to the rest of us when Mike doesn’t give her a response, “What’s he gonna do?“

“Fight it.“ I answer as though it’s the most normal thing to ever have been done, “Or, ash he calls it - kick some ghost ass.“

“A freaking ghost?! He’s gonna try to tussle with something he can’t see?“ I can’t tell if Matt’s tone is disbelief, amusement or disappointment, but I believe he isn’t about to try and stop or dear ex-president in his pursuit and that’s all that matters. I ain’t about to let someone stop whatever’s about to go down from going down.

“That’s still my great-grandmother, you dumbass!“ Jess shrieks with something alike terror.

“Don’t worry Jess, I’m sure she’ll go easy on him.“ I say in an attempt to reassure her but I can’t even be bothered really, I’m too laser-focused on the circus that’s about to take place in front of me.

Mike, as if encouraged by my words, charges into the room. Much to his dismay, before he could even reach the ghost, he’s met with a much more vigorous enemy - the carpet. The rascal trips him up and Mr. Munroe falls flat on his face.

The group stays silent, looking at the glorious aftermath of the glorious fall. Told ya these lights could make everything fabulous. Must say, it’s truly an honor for me to have been able to catch all that on tape.

“10/10, would ghost-hunt with Mikey Munroe again.“

49 notes · View notes

captainscanadian · 5 years ago

Text

Reputation | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 2)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: The first few weeks of classes had certainly hit you like a freight train. But thankfully, Bucky was there to help you get through it all.

Word Count: 3336

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter, Natasha Romanoff,

Warnings: No Smut, Only Fluff, Exam Stress

A/N: Reputation was heavily inspired by Taylor Swift’s iconic album of the same name and her song Delicate off of that album. This is my entry for @buckysmischief‘s 1K Writing Challenge. I’d like to thank my boo @baezen once again for being a good beta and for the constant love. Lastly, the reason why this whole fic (and my blog itself) exists in the first place was because I was reading @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend‘s College AUs and wanted to write one of my own. GO READ IT, IT’S THE BEST COLLEGE AU EVER READ! This fic is an unofficial AU of my own fic, Better, but you don’t have to have read it to read this fic. Same characters, but they meet in a completely different time of their lives, under completely different circumstances. I DON’T OWN THE GIFS. CREDITS TO THE OWNERS. I DON’T DO TAGLISTS.

The sun was shining bright against the parted curtains as you awoke the next day, the sapphire-like eyes of Bucky Barnes gleaming against the light as they landed on yours.

A gasp as your eyes met his; you stared up at him with your brows raised. “James, have you been watching me sleep?”

He gave you a tight-lipped smile before leaning over to kiss your forehead. “Not my fault that you look so gorgeous when you’re asleep...”

“Creep.” You giggled, climbing out of his bed and grabbing your clothes from the floor.

“Leaving so soon?” Bucky asked you, his lips curling into a pout.

You sat on the edge of his bed as you slipped into your undergarments. “I was hoping to get a head start on some readings before my new roommate gets in at noon.”

“Studious much, doll?” He remarked. “Do I need to remind you that classes haven’t even started yet? You don’t have to go at full speed so early on in the semester. You’ll burn out.”

“But I’ve got a 4.0 to maintain and MCATs to prepare for. I’m sure you know that this year’s not a joke, James.” You clarified once you got dressed. “I have no time for distractions.”

“Is that all I am to you? A distraction?”

“I didn’t say that you were.” You giggled, crawling over to straddle his lap. “But you did keep me from studying last night so... yeah, I guess that does make you a distraction.”

“I really don’t want to distract you from doing well in school, so I’ll make you a deal. How about that?” He suggested, wrapping his arms around you and looking up at you with a genuine smile. “I’ll tutor you again this year... free of charge, of course. That way you don’t have to worry about that GPA of yours and you can have some fun without beating yourself up over it – which, I’ve noticed is something that you seem to do a lot.”

“If you wanted me to sleep with you again, all you had to do was ask instead of beating around the bush, James.” You told him with a cheeky grin, neither of them wanting to deny the attraction that you had been feeling for years. “But since you’re offering, I don’t think I could turn down a good tutor. You’re pretty much the reason why I made the Dean’s List my freshman year.”

You were well aware that Bucky Barnes’ reputation included not sleeping with someone more than once. The untold truth around campus included that he gives you your best night but he doesn't call you back. For some odd reason, you felt that your ordeal with James was more than just a one time thing. There was something about the look in his eyes that said he’d wanted more to do with you, and deep down you did too. For now though, you could definitely accept the sex and the tutoring sessions combined.

“Yes, we can be study buddies!” A triumphant smile was on his face as he hugged you tight, making you fall off of his lap and onto the bed as you laughed.

“It’s going to be freshman year all over again, isn’t it? But with the sex this time.” You pointed out as you climbed off of his bed. “I should really get going though. I do have some errands to run and I don’t want to get stuck in traffic.”

“I’ll walk you out.” He told you, climbing out of bed and pulling on his briefs. Grabbing his t-shirt from the floor, he pulled it over his head before turning back to you.“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for breakfast, Y/N? I think Steve should be up and making breakfast right now. His French toast is to die for.”

You shook your head. “James, you’re really taking the ‘shame’ out of my walk of shame.” You giggled, throwing your arms over his neck. “How about some other time?”

“You have nothing to be ashamed of.” He grabbed onto your waist and leaned in for a quick kiss. “I had a wonderful time last night.”

“Do you say that to all your other one night stands?” You asked him with a smirk, though you couldn’t deny that you had a wonderful time as well. Bucky Barnes sure did live up to his reputation.

“No, just the ones who are so beautiful, intelligent and hardworking.”

You couldn’t help but blush at that comment. “Flattery will get you everywhere, James.”

A hearty laugh escaped his lips as he tilted his head back, and you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes lit up at that moment. You had never seen him like this before.

Up until then, the James you knew only ever let you see his eyes when they were filled with lust. But after last night, he seemed a lot less rigid. You couldn’t deny that there was a certain sense of comfort that came with the physical intimacy that you had shared.

It was a strange feeling to say the least, but you were unable to describe it. For someone with a hell of a lot of trust issues, thanks to Margaret Sykes, you found yourself believing that you could put all of your trust in someone else on campus – let alone New York University’s resident Casanova.

“I always wondered why you chose to stay behind at NYU when you could have gone to Columbia with me.” Steve Rogers pointed out to his best friend who barged into the kitchen after bidding farewell to his recent one night stand, who happened to be someone he knew very well. “And now I know the answer to that.”

Bucky could not help but roll his eyes as he walked up to the kitchen island. A part of him was eager to let him know how right he was, but he knew better than to give Steve that kind of satisfaction. Confirming that you had something to do with him going to NYU Med would mean that he would not hear the end of it. The Casanova of NYU staying behind for medical school for a girl he had once tutored? Oh, the horror!

Sitting up on the stool next to his best friend’s girlfriend, he looked down at his plate of a full English breakfast before raising his eyebrow. “Good morning, you punk.” He chuckled before turning over to look at Peggy. “Good morning, Peggy. I hope I didn’t cause the two of you any disturbance last night.”

“Oh no, I passed out quite early last night. I’m still running on London time.” The woman pointed out as she took a bite of her breakfast. As she had spent the summer months across the pond with her brother, she was quite jet lagged. “And I’m sure that Steve’s gotten used to your wild nights while I’ve been away. Haven’t you, darling?”

“It’s your place, Buck. You can do whatever you want.” Steve fixed himself a plate of breakfast before walking around the kitchen island to take a seat next to Peggy. “But you and Y/N... I’ll be honest, Bucky. I never would have seen it coming.”

“Yeah, but you live here too. I just wanted to give you that respect and courtesy.” Chuckling softly as he picked up his fork to eat, Bucky nodded his head in agreement. “Believe me, I didn’t see it coming either. Y/N was not like the others, Steve. She wouldn’t sleep with me just because everyone else was sleeping with me and that actually made her stand out.”

“But now that you’ve slept with her-”

“Steve, there’s absolutely no need for you to be jumping into conclusions right now.” He cut him off. “I know that you’re concerned because she’s someone you know. But I promise you, there’s nothing else going on between Y/N and I.” He clarified. “We just slept together and I offered to tutor her for this semester because she’s thinking of taking the MCATs.”

But the blonde haired man could not get himself to believe his best friend that easily. “It’s not that I know her, Bucky. I know you. I know that emotional availability... Not your cup of tea. And Y/N seems like someone who wants something like that and I’d hate to see you ruin her.”

“Come on, Steve! It’s not like I would have had the time for my shenanigans once classes start back up again. Can’t a guy have a little fun before his first week of med school, pal?” He asked with a shrug of his shoulders, finally taking a bite of his food. “Besides, it’s not like I forced her into it either. She said she wanted it and I did too.”

“Consent is extremely important.” Peggy gave him a pat on the shoulder. “I’m so proud of you, mate.”

Bucky gave her a smile before turning back to his best friend. “I know I have a reputation, Steve, and I’m not always proud of it. But I’m trying my best to change my ways. I can’t keep going on like this and I do know that. You have nothing to worry about.”

“If you say so.” Steve nodded, smiling. “To be honest, I am kind of glad that she’s having a little fun. I’ve never met someone who had so much time on her hands until I met her. That poor girl used to sign up for eight hour blocks when volunteering for UNICEF while everyone else did one of two hours a week. Her commitment to the club was truly concerning.”

Bucky could not help but let out a genuine laugh at that. As he was well aware that you had sworn against having a social life after the Margaret incident, he understood why you would have spent so much time volunteering when you weren’t studying.

But he was also grateful to be able to get you to change your mind about having a little fun. After all, college was all about change and growth. And as it turns out, the two of you would get to grow up together.

Once you got back to your dorm, you had found the time to clean up your room and have a quick shower before your new roommate was due to arrive. But if first impressions were the best impressions, then Natasha Romanoff seemed to be one of the sweetest human beings you could have ever met. A few years older than you, she was a master’s student studying Global Journalism at Gallatin after completing her undergrad at UCLA.

One thing you knew about the Gallatin students: they were all about the self-study so you need not worry that your academic goals would be any different from your roommate’s.

“I’m taking a few classes here in the fall and finalizing my research proposal in the winter. Hopefully, I can land an internship with the UN for the summer months.” She explained. “I’ve always wanted to work for the UN, so the internship would be a great start to that.”

“If you’re interested in working for the UN, may I interest you in an executive position with the UNICEF chapter on campus? I am the current president of the club, because our last one graduated and went off to Columbia Med School. I could definitely use someone who’s a lot more... familiar with the organization being on the executive committee.” You suggested, laughing softly as you finally started warming up to her. “If you have the time, of course... I do know that master’s classes may be time consuming.”

“Oh no, I’m down for it. I was actually going to look into the club myself.” The redhead admitted, grinning widely. “I can certainly offer a few hours a week to help you out. Would you need me to apply for the executive position or is it free for all around here?”

“First off, I would have to put up an application on the clubs page and then promote the hell out of it during Clubs Week, which is the second week of school. I have so much to do and I’m getting ahead of myself here.” You clarified with a laugh. “But it’s yours if you want it. You’re certainly qualified for it.”

Laughing softly at your over-enthusiasm with running the club, something that she certainly seemed to identify with, she nodded in agreement. “Well, if you need me to help you out with anything, you know where I live.” She winked.

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” You smiled back at her, certainly relieved that you were getting along with your new roommate.

The first few weeks of classes had certainly hit you like a freight train. But juggling a full-time course load had become a lot easier than you had expected after a while; thanks to James Barnes and his genuine commitment to being anything but a distraction for you. Your weekends off had been spent studying together at the library – sharing an entire table in one of the quiet spaces, your textbooks and notepads spread out, along with highlighters and felt pens in primary colors.

Perks of his photographic memory, Bucky did not take as much time to retain the information as you did. So, once he had reviewed the study notes that he had already memorized, a majority of his time was spent helping you create your colour-coded flash cards. Your study dates were always productive, neither of you mentioning the other half of your ordeal until you had covered all of the material you needed to cover.

It was only when the two of you decided to call it a night and stepped out of the library did the man look over at you with a smirk on his lips. “Feelin’ tired yet, doll?”

You would shake your head as you walked along the sidewalk. “I think I’ve had a productive day. I think I deserve a little fun.” You would say with a blush, and the two of you would head back to your dorm, leaving Natasha to be sexiled to the common room. She never seemed to mind it though, since at least one of you was getting some action.

But even though the sex was good, school always came first to the both of you.

Following your biochemistry mid-term that morning, you found yourself trotting across campus to the Student Life office to begin your afternoon shift. Dried up leaves crunching under your converse as you skipped along the sidewalk, you let out a hearty breath to see the condensation rise to the air.

The sunny weather disappeared weeks ago, taken over by the chilly autumn winds. Halloween was coming up soon and the UNICEF chapter on campus had managed to run a successful food drive as the first campaign for the semester. You had been planning to drive the donations down to your nearest Feeding America facility that weekend. But for now, you needed sleep... or maybe a cup of coffee to get you through your shift.

As you entered the office, you quickly removed your denim jacket and hung it up on one of the hooks. Taking in the warmth of being indoors for a moment, you walked around the desk and sat down on the empty seat next to your co-worker whom you had been frequently scheduled to work with. “Hey, Wanda.”

“You look dead.” The woman pointed out in the midst of chewing a bite of her lunch, her eyes glued to the screen in front of her as she read through an email.

“I feel dead.” You admitted, laughing softly. A few days had passed since the last time you’d had a good night’s sleep, and now that midterms were over you were longing to finish off your shift and get some well-deserved rest. “And I’m so hungry. I haven’t eaten anything since this morning.”

“Want a bite?”

The familiar aroma of paprika drifted up your nostrils as she held her Tupperware container towards you, making your stomach growl. Your lips curl into a smirk as you before you shook your head. “No, thank you. I’ll be fine... I take it your boyfriend cooked for you again?”

She nodded, grinning widely. “It may have taken him a few tries but he’s finally mastered how to make chicken paprikash.”

“I think you’ve pretty much won if you’ve found a man who makes sure you’re well-fed.” You agreed, laughing softly before you the sound of the door opening made you turn your head.

You blinked your eyes to be rid of your exhaustion as you saw James Barnes enter the office. The smile on your lips growing wider as he approached you, you looked over at him with your eyebrows raised. But what caught your eyes wasn’t just the fatigue that was evident in his eyes. You also noticed that he was holding a brown paper bag and a coffee cup.

“Hello, beautiful.” He set down the cup and the bag on the counter in front of you as he came to a stop, his eyes not leaving yours as he spoke. “How’d it go this morning?”

“Pretty good...” You nodded, feeling your cheeks heat up slightly before you let out a yawn. “I think Fury’s being a little easy on us this semester.”

“That’s good.” He smiled at you before turning over to look at Wanda. “Hello, Maximoff.”

“Hey, Bucky.” The woman greeted him, her gaze returning to the screen in front of her as she took another bite of her lunch.

As it turns out, Bucky and Wanda had known each other through his sister. A brother from another mother, she’d called him when he had first stopped by the office to see you a few weeks ago. But he had been popping by every now and then, sometimes to drop off some study notes that you had forgotten and other times to bring you some food if you had mentioned that you had no time to eat between classes and your shift.

“What brings you here, James?”

“I just finished my last midterm for Anatomy this morning and I knew that you had your last one too. I thought you could use a little something to celebrate, maybe a little pick-me-up to help you get through the shift.” He replied, motioning towards the bag. “They’re the cannoli’s that you liked from that little Italian place in Brooklyn.”

A tired smile on your lips as you looked up at him; you reached over the counter to grab the bag. “Thank you. You’re the best.”

A soft grin on his face as he ran his hand through his hair, he gave you a nod. “I should get going. I have to pick Steve up from his exam. Text me when you get home, yeah?”

You nodded, your cheeks heating up as you watched him step away from the counter. “Yeah... bye.”

Once he turned around and walked out of the office, you reached into the bag to grab a cannoli for yourself. You could feel Wanda’s prying eyes staring down at you and you turned to face her. “Want a bite?”

Her eyebrow raised as she looked over at you, she let out a sigh of disbelief. “That was like the third or fourth time this month.” She noted. “If you’re really going to tell me that there’s nothing going on between the two of you, I’d say you should find someone who’s dumb enough to believe it, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes as you swallowed your bite. “Oh come on, Wanda, it’s nothing!”

“I think you’ve pretty much won if you’ve found a man who makes sure you’re well-fed... Yeah, that doesn’t look like nothing to me, darling.” She told you with a rather mocking tone in her voice, and you could not help but let out a laugh at that.

#gabs1kwritingchallenge #aj writes #reputation #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes series #college!bucky #college au

112 notes · View notes

jedimordsith · 4 years ago

Note

You mentioned that you've come to have more empathy for Yoday but still wouldn't recommend him as a direct master for anyone. What were/are your biggest issues with him? There are several I could guess, and probably some I agree with, but I don't want to assume.

Ahahahaha. I’m in a ranty mood this week, so it’s a great time to tackle this ask! Here’s more than anyone ever wanted to know about my Yoda Feels.

My problems with Yoda come down to a couple things.

We have entirely different learning/teaching styles.

I have zero tolerance for cryptic shavit when there’s *actual communication* that needs to happen.

A lot of Yoda’s behaviors make sense when viewed in the context of the PT but I formed most of my opinions based on the OT before the PT was a Thing.

I don’t agree with the approach Yoda took in swanning off to Dagobah post RotS. AT ALL.

Different Learning/Teaching Styles

(In ESB) Yoda very much follows the Greek and Buddhist styles of teaching where masters ask questions that don’t necessarily have solid answers. This is a valid style and something @atamascolily consistently captures gorgeously in her fics. It also absolutely makes me want to stab people.

I’m like Mara Jade: a task-oriented learner. I want to know what I’m supposed to learning/mastering, why, how I’ll demonstrate success, and what the checkpoints are along the way. Meandering philosophical debates as part of an ill-defined training process are maddening. As noted, as I get older I am more accepting of this as a legit style and just not for me; this makes Yoda more sympathetic as a character but not any less annoying.

Also, when Luke asks honest and reasonable questions in ESB (like “why”) Yoda shuts him down flat and I’m extremely not okay with that. Luke is being genuine and respectful despite his own frustrations and as someone who is committing his life to the Jedi path he has both a right and a need to know things. Demanding blind faith when there are or should be reasonable answers of some kind is Not Okay.

Just Communicate Dammit!

With Ben Kenobi and Bail Organa gone, Yoda was the only person around holding a lot of key information. Did he share that information? Nope. He wandered around being a cryptic little troll “because Luke wasn’t ready” despite knowing full well that his health was failing. He gave Luke none of the information he actually needed to make informed decisions and didn’t even freaking write anything down!!

From a Doylist perspective, this is obviously largely because George Lucas et al hadn’t figured out any of the backstory yet. From a Watsonian perspective, this is unforgivable.

If your time is short (as his time with Luke was destined to be no matter how things went), it is critically important to be clear and use your time well. Yoda just didn’t.

Obnoxious Troll vs Grandpa Frog

The PT very much sets Yoda up as Grandpa Frog, a beloved grandfather figure who teaches the younglings regularly and who everyone understands as mischievous but loving. Viewed in that sense, a lot of how he treats Luke in ESB makes sense… but it doesn’t make it okay.

The younglings at the Temple literally grew up around the Force and Yoda. Luke did not. Luke didn’t even know WTF the Force was until he was almost 20. He got like 24 hours of introduction to it before Ben died. Compliments of Palpatine and the Purge and the war, there is almost no information available to him between ANH and ESB except what he figures out himself. Yet Yoda treats him like a disappointment and a failure for not understanding the scope of the Force and having doubts about its power.

Guess what? If Luke had grown up in the Temple, yeah, he’d be all about raising X-wings out of swamps. But he didn’t. He grew on repressed for his own safety on a farm in the middle of nowhere without a hint of a clue.

Now, through the lens of the PT, I can see Luke being a frustrating student for Yoda. He’s used to getting younglings who have been exposed to and trained in the Force by a range of other Jedi. Starting with an older student suffering from a ton of trauma and without any of the basics that he has to train in less than a fraction of the time shaping a Jedi would normally take is a massive undertaking and he’s old and tired besides. The whole family history with Vader wouldn’t make it any easier.

But you know what? Luke is young. He left his found family in the middle of a war and is undergoing hugely stressful training in the middle of a swamp so that he can shoulder even bigger burdens. Yoda has had 20 years of (mostly) downtime to deal with his own trauma and at least several hundred years of practice being a teacher and a leader. He’s the one in a position to improve things and accommodate and he doesn’t. I’m not okay with that.

Let’s Talk About That Downtime BTW

Again, from a Doylist perspective, I get why Yoda was hanging out on Dagobah, why he used things like visions to communicate with people like Kanan, Ezra, etc. periodically, and why he was Luke’s mentor in ESB/RotJ.

From a Watsonian view, though, I’m not freaking impressed. He was the Grandmaster. He was heartbroken over the Jedi and Padawans he couldn’t save. But what did he do for the remaining ones spread across the galaxy? Shavit, that’s what. Kanan, Cal Kestis, Feris Olan, all the Jedi/Padawans who got kidnapped and twisted into Inquisitors — they were on their freaking own while Yoda swanned off to Dagobah.

Oh, sure, he’d pop up in a vision here or there or whatever, but he had a safe place. And, apparently, the ability to reach at least some of them some of the time (see: visions and his connections to people like Bail Organa). Do I think any of those people probably wanted to live on Dagobah? Not particularly. But I think they’d have appreciated the safety and the chance to reconnect with what remained of their Jedi family, even if only briefly.

But no. Yoda hangs out, waiting for the day the twins are old enough to take on the responsibility to kill Vader/Palpatine and then… does nothing?! He just keeps hanging out even after both Luke and Leia have lost everything, lets them get all settled into the Rebellion without a word, and THEN has the nerve to be cranky and disgruntled when he actually does get one of them to train!!

YOU MADE CHOICES YOU LITTLE FROG TROLL. DON’T TAKE THEM OUT ON THE PEOPLE YOU DENIED CHOICES FOR 20 YEARS.

I’m Not Entirely Without Compassion, I Swear

*sigh* I have seen a lot of Yoda meta in recent years that makes me appreciate Yoda for what he was during the PT. He really *was* everybody’s loving Grandpa who worked for centuries to love on the Jedi, protect them, and take care of them well. He legit wanted all of them to be happy and safe… and his suffering when the Purge happened must have been unimaginable. Like Luke and Leia, he lost everything.

Unlike the twins, he didn’t get to rebuild or find a new family. While I believe what we have in the EU suggests he found peace and solace and a new home of Dagobah that was genuinely soothing to his wounded soul, he was alone and (whether he was or not) he did feel mostly helpless to do anything for his few scattered Jedi grandchildren who remained and suffered across the galaxy. He did face decisions in which there *weren’t* good, clear-cut answers.

I think if I’d met him first in the PT or meta I might have liked him better. But I still wouldn’t ever recc him as a Master for any character I like because I can’t imagine learning under him being an experience I would ever wish on anyone simply based on my own vehement loathing for his personal teaching style. I know there are people in the world who would thrive on that approach and I like to think I’ve got a good imagination, but I simply can’t conceptualize it as a positive, productive experience.

*As an end note, if you DO like Yoda or want to like him better please go read @atamascolily‘s fics, seriously. You’ll love them!

40 notes · View notes

mikeisthricedeceased · 5 years ago

Text

You’re My Home

Catfish x OC

Part 1: Winds Change

Word Count: ~1.9k

Part 2 Part 3

A/N: This is an idea I’ve had for a bit, and it’s been a little easier to actually type out than the Mando fic I’ve been working on. It’s probably because I’m planning for this to be some sappy, smutty fun while the Mando fic is a bit more involved.

Edit: replaced some Spanish lines because I’m nowhere near fluent and have no way of knowing how well they actually translate

Summary: Frankie has had a rough year since the whole heist shit show. It’s been one bad thing after another, leaving him all alone in a dingy apartment and steadily slipping back into old habits. He’s more than a little surprised when a pretty stranger approaches him at a bar and coaxes him into having an actual conversation. Nita guides him into a whole new world that might be just what he needs.

(The last sentence of the summary is more of a hint to the series as a whole.)

~*~*~*~

Frankie sat alone at the bar, nursing his third beer of the night. He could’ve been drinking at his place for cheaper, but the empty apartment just served as a reminder of how alone he’d become in the past year. He’d been able to meet up with the guys a few times since the divorce, but they all had lives. Pope was always traveling to see Yovanna. Will and Benny had each other, even with how often they butted heads. He just had himself, and the few days that he got to spend with little Isabella. He and his ex technically had shared custody, but she kept their daughter most days, afraid of what could happen since he clearly still clung to old habits. He couldn’t really fault her for that, as much as it tore him apart.

He was trying. He really was. But, with all that had happened, it was just so easy to find himself sliding back into shit. And going out to drink on his own so he wouldn’t have to sit in an empty apartment where most of the boxes still sat unpacked because it wasn’t home didn’t come close to his worst night, but fuck, was it sad.

He pulled his hat off and dropped it onto the bar top, running his fingers through his too-long hair. He knew he looked just as much the mess that he felt.

~*~*~*~

“Oh, Boss.”

Nita raised an eyebrow, gaze flicking across the table. “Oh, Ryan,” she said, mimicking his sing-song tone.

He smirked, gesturing toward the bar. “You’re staring.”

“And?” she asked.

He scrunched his nose. “Little rough around the edges, don’t you think?”

Tiff nudged him with an elbow. “Careful, bucko, she’s paying for our drinks.”

Nita leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms with a small smile. “You should listen to her, pretty boy. You wanna insult my taste, you can buy your own shots.”

He held up his hands. “I didn’t mean anything by it. Just trying to bring you back to the table.”

She hummed, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Honest,” he insisted, a grin breaking through.

“You couldn’t kiss ass to save your life, could you?”

Tiff snorted at that and Ryan sighed, clasping his hands behind his head.

“I wouldn’t have the job you gave me if I could, Boss,” he said, giving a quick wink.

Nita rolled her eyes. “Switches exist. You can just go ask Jorge or Monique,” she waved a hand toward the small group of their coworkers on the dance floor. “At least they don’t insult their employer.” She jabbed a finger at him “And fair warning, I am wearing a belt that I’m not afraid to use.”

Ryan rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

She slid off of her chair, straightening her shirt before grabbing her glass.

“Where are you going?” asked Tiff.

Nita held up what was left of her bushwacker. “Grabbing another one of these,” she said. A quick glance at the figure at the bar and she smiled back at Tiff. “And testing my luck.”

~*~*~*~

She appeared next to him, a hand on the back of the stool beside him.

“Hey, is it okay if I sit here?”

He looked over at her. A soft smile and warm eyes greeted him. “Yeah, it’s fine,” he told her, looking back down at his beer.

“Thanks.”

She set an almost empty glass on the bar and slid onto the seat.

The bartender came over immediately, a broad smile on his face. “Hey, boss. Need another one?” He tapped near her glass.

She nodded and jabbed a thumb over her shoulder. “And I think los idiotas in the back need another round, if you don’t mind.”

He pointed to her and grinned. “Claro.”

“Gracias, señor.”

Frankie glanced over at the woman beside him as she rested her elbows on the bar and looked up at the lone tv on the wall.

Her eyes flicked to him and he had the decency to feel embarrassed about being caught, face warming.

He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat a bit, offering a polite, if awkward, smile.

“Hi,” she said softly, gaze now fixed on him.

He sat up a little and met her eyes. “Hey.”

There was a beat of silence before she spoke again. “I’m sorry if this is too forward, but I really just came over here to talk to you,” she told him, lips pulling into a small smile.

His brows shot up. “Oh.”

The bartender breezed past, smoothly placing a new bushwacker in front of Nita before lifting a tray laden with tequila shots and small bowls of lime wedges.

“Just ‘oh’?” she asked, eyes alive with amusement.

Frankie found himself smiling back at her, even as he looked down sheepishly. “I guess I just wasn’t expecting that.”

She shrugged, stirring the chocolate syrup in her drink around. “I do like being unpredictable sometimes. Keeps things fun.”

He turned toward her a little more. “Does it? Probably makes planning a little hard.”

She wagged a finger. “That’s why I said sometimes. I have responsibilities that require forethought on occasion.”

“Like owning a bar?” he asked, gesturing around them.

She laughed, shaking her head. “I don’t, actually. This just happens to be one of my go-to places to bring out-of-towners and colleagues who want to get tipsy on my dime. Lorenzo there has seen me drag a few of my friends outside with the help of a bouncer,” she said, grinning at the bartender.

“¿Los idiotas?” Frankie asked, nodding to the group in the back.

Nita smiled into her drink. “A few of them, yeah.” She took a sip and set the glass down, turning in her seat a bit to look at them. “I’ll probably be doing that again tonight.”

“Someone has to make sure everyone gets home alright,” he reasoned.

She nodded in agreement, focusing back on him. “It’s honest work.”

He almost wanted her to stop looking at him like that. So warm, so inviting. It didn’t feel like the sort of thing that should be happening to him, especially with how life had been treating him recently. He couldn’t believe that he was actually managing to hold a conversation either. He’d been communicating almost exclusively through grunts and monosyllabic words for the past few months.

But, sitting there with her eyes on him, it just made the words a little easier.

“So, what do you do, if you don’t own a bar?” he asked before taking a sip of his beer.

She shifted, eyes sliding to her friends in the back again. “I own a few clubs. One of them is local, that’s where all of them work. There are a few more spread out across the States. I also have a business with an old friend of mine in New York.”

He nodded, eyes dancing over her face as she spoke. “A pretty successful business woman, then?”

She smiled. “Something like that. Being your own boss has its pros and cons.” She lightly bumped his arm with the back of her hand. “What about you?”

It felt like his chest was going to burst with that small touch. It finally clicked that this woman was really, honest to God flirting with him, and he might’ve been losing his mind about it.

“I’m a pilot. Been working some odd jobs recently, though, waiting for my recertification to go through.” He tried not to wince as he thought about it. “Some old buddies of mine have an MMA gig that I help out with sometimes. Adds a little bit of excitement to my weeknights.”

“Sounds like it would,” she said, a hint of a laugh in her voice. “They have some amateur kickboxing tournaments at the gym my business partner’s husband works at. Always a fun time.” She swirled the straw in her drink absently. “Do you fly commercially?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Nah. Mostly private stuff. Helicopter tours or cargo transport.”

“Ah, a chopper guy,” she said, pressing her lips together to hide a grin as she nodded.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “What? Do I seem like the kind of guy who wears a suit everyday?”

She bit the inside of her cheek lightly and ran a finger through the condensation on her glass. “You just seem like the kind of guy who’d look really good in one,” she said, tilting her head at him.

He blinked at her, mind going a little blank. He looked down, grinning like an idiot as he picked at the label on his beer. “I don’t— I don’t know about that.”

She waved a hand, her broad smile making his face hot. “Oh, you’d probably look great in all kinds of stuff. Gotta love a uniform.” She studied him as she lifted her drink. “You’d make a good cowboy, too.”

He let out a surprised laugh, a little louder than he’d meant to. “A cowboy?”

She sipped her drink, humming affirmatively, and gestured at his head as she narrowed her eyes. “I’m picturing the hat. It works for you.”

They just laughed for a moment, gazing at each other. At some point in the conversation, they’d both fully turned, each of them resting a single elbow on the bar as they faced one another.

Frankie sighed, lips still turned up in a smirk. “I’ll try to keep that in mind. In the meantime,” he grabbed his old ball cap off the bar and slipped it on, “I think I’ll stick with this.”

“That’s a good look, too,” she said, smiling softly with her chin in her palm.

“You think so?”

“It’s definitely working for me.”

He bit his lip. “Y’know, I feel like an ass, sitting here and getting compliments from a beautiful woman without coming up with a way to return them that won’t embarrass the shit out of me.”

She dropped the hand she’d been leaning on, letting the tips of her fingers brush where his elbow rested on the bar. “I think that one was pretty good.”

It took everything in him not to look down at her hand. “I’ll take your word for it.”

A hand appeared at her shoulder and they both turned to face the newcomer.

Tiff looked between them apologetically. “Sorry,” she said before directing a frown at Nita. “Matt’s had about six too many shots and he’s gonna break his neck trying to backflip off the stage.”

Nita gave a long-suffering sigh, pinching the space between her brows. “And that means that Ryan is two shots behind him and everyone needs to be taken home before more chaos starts.” She shook her head and set her glass back on the bar, gaze lingering on the clear condensation ring it had left on her jeans. “I’ll be back there in a second.”

Tiff scurried off and Nita met Frankie’s eyes again.

She offered a half-hearted shrug. “Idiotas.”

He chuckled softly, hoping that she couldn’t tell just how disappointed he was to see her go.

Her gaze shifted to something over his shoulder. “Lorenzo! Do you have a pen?” she called, making a writing gesture in the air.

Frankie could only watch as she thanked the bartender for the pen and pulled her wallet out of her back pocket.

“All I have are business cards,” she told him, biting her lip sheepishly. She slipped one out of her wallet and started writing across the back. Then, she was handing it to him. “This is my cell number. And I don’t think I ever got your name.”

He took the card in a daze. “It’s Frankie,” he said softly.

“Nita,” she said, gesturing to herself with one hand as she returned her wallet with the other. “Maybe we can do this again sometime, Frankie. Sin los idiotas.”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

She offered him one last breathtaking smile. “Have a good night.”

“Night. And good luck with the carpool,” he said as she started walking away.

He heard her laugh.

He turned to face the bar again, a smile plastered across his face.

A few moments later, he saw some of her group walk out the door. A few stumbled. The woman who had brought an end to their conversation stopped to talk to the bartender before moving to hold the door open. Then, Nita was half-carrying, half-dragging a chattering man out of the bar, a bouncer following close behind.

Frankie chuckled to himself, shaking his head. It was probably time for him to head out, too. The beer in his hand was beyond lukewarm and it wasn’t going to help him feel any better than he already did.

He waved down the bartender as he reached for his own wallet, carefully tucking Nita’s business card away before thumbing through his cash.

“How much?” he asked.

Lorenzo shook his head, holding up a hand. “You’re covered.”

His brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“Boss took care of it,” said the bartender, nodding to the door and offering him a shrug.

“Oh.” Frankie let that process as he slowly put his wallet away. “Gracias, señor.”

He felt a little light-headed as he made his way out of the bar. So much had happened so quickly. He’d started the night determined to wallow in self pity, only to end it with a warm feeling in his chest and the promise of a date in the near future.

~*~*~*~

If anyone wants to be tagged, send me a message and I’ll add you!

Taglist: @zeldasayer @tarrevizslas

~ Mike

#catfish x oc #catfish x ofc #frankie morales #francisco morales #catfish fanfic #fucken triple frontier #you're my home fanfic #frankie morales fanfic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #catfish fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction

83 notes · View notes

spikemuth-post · 5 years ago

Text

My Lost Piers Fic

I recently dug up the first story I wrote about Piers. I sent it to a friend back when I was still trying to gauge and understand all the characters and thank goodness she kept it

—-

The sound of the T.V. was buried underneath your laughter as you reached over to grab some pizza off the table. You were celebrating your new flat with the only 2 people who were free to help you move in today. Hop was on the floor in front of you, his Cinderace chowing down with him and Marnie was beside him. Her Morpeko was waddling about, playing with the litter of Yampers that your Boltund had. "That is something else." You managed to say, looking away from Marnie. Her smirk didn't go away and she was persistent in wanting to make eye contact with you. You resisted for a bit. " What makes you think that I like your brother?" "That is the most unconvincing denial I have ever heard," Hop snorted as he lowered pizza into his mouth. "You might as well have said 'I don't think Piers is hot! Who said that! Definitely not me!" Hop mocked your voice so convincingly that your Boltund wandered over to see what was going on. You gave the pooch a scratch behind the ears, red in the face at the portrayal. "You like him, don't you-" "No!" Your defense made them both start snickering and Hop looked over by the pizza box. All of your phones were beside one another and so you didn't notice that he grabbed yours and not his. He began to fiddle with it as Marnie laughed at you. "Well, answer my question. Why would you think that?" "Well, to be honest, I didn't." She admitted coyly, "I asked if you liked him because I know for a fact that he thinks you're cute. I was just trying to maybe give you both a little push." "H-He does?" "Yeah, that's good." Hop mumbled to himself as he typed. Neither of you noticed. "Well, would you consider going on a date with him if he asked? Or asking him on a date?" "T-That does sound nice... but what if he doesn't like me like that? Thinking I'm cute and actually liking me are two different things-" "Hey check this out," Hop snickered, holding up your phone so you could see the screen. Marnie wasn't facing it, so she hopped off the couch and leaned over it on your side so you could both get a better look. Your mouth fell open and Marnie read it out loud. " 'Hello there, sexy. Your body is a temple and I want to uncover ALL it's hidden treasures. Maybe meet me at my new flat tonight after dark?'. You didn't have to put both tonight and after dark, Hop. They mean the same thing-" "DO NOT SEND THAT!" You and Hop jumped to your feet and he backed up from you a little bit. As he backed up he squeezed the phone unconsciously, not knowing he was touching the screen. "Relax, Mate. I'd never send it. You're my best friend. Do you really think I would... do...that...oh no." Hop glanced at the message to delete it, horrified to see the word 'sent'. You reached out for your phone and felt a tidal wave of emotions seeing Hop's face. "uh-" "Hop... Tell me why you're looking at it like that." “Uhhhh... Okay... But You can't be mad at me-" "HOP!" "I’ll do damage control," Marnie grumbled, grabbing her phone and going to call Piers. Anger poured out of your mouth and Marnie couldn't help but smile. Upon getting Piers's voicemail her smile dropped. "...I think his phone is off... Good news, I think that means he hasn't seen it." "WE CAN ADDRESS THAT AFTER WE KILL HOP!" "As much as murder would spice up our evening... Our priority should be getting ahold of my brother and letting him know what happened."

—

Obstagoon continues to whine for his trainer's attention, getting a pat on the head every so often. Piers was too focused, staring at the options before him and trying to determine the best move for such an intense and cutthroat strategy game. “...A3-“ “Aw man, you sunk my battleship.” Raihan complained. Burying his face in his hands, he put the peg in his ship. Piers just rolled his eyes. “I wonder what’s taking Leon so long to get here. The movie starts in 20 minutes.” “Yeah, we need to leave soon,” Piers mumbled, taking his phone out to check the time. He didn’t remember the battery died until he looked at it, angrily tossing it back in his pocket. “Text him, see where he is.” “Yeah, give me a minute... G7-“ “Nope-“ “OH COME ON!” As Raihan fumed, Leon entered his apartment, looking oddly determined. The reason being was a call he got from his brother to delete a text from you by any means necessary. His friends didn’t seem to notice anything wrong. “Finally! Come on, we have to get going.” “Uh, yeah, sorry I’m late... Hey, Piers, can I borrow your phone?” “It’s dead, Sorry.” Piers just shrugged but Leon seemed nervous, making Raihan offer his phone. Leon took it with a ‘thank you’ not wanting to decline and be suspicious. This was going to be harder than he thought. ----

They settled into their seats, Raihan’s eyes glued to the soda advertisement. The theatre had only 2 or 3 other people in it, all of them sitting rows above the trainers. Leon was focused on Piers’s phone, which was in the rocker’s back pocket. Leon bought a phone charger and a reserve battery, ready to get his plan into action. He sat beside Piers and the theatre darkened. Raihan seemed so invested already but Piers was leaning on his armrest. The bored rocker’s hip was slightly up as he leaned on his left leg. He wasn’t leaning all the way back in his chair either. Leon could see his phone peeking out of his back pocket. “Ugh, how long are the logos?” Piers complained to Raihan. As he turned to him, Leon began to slowly reach for the phone. The two were having a small conversation so Leon thought he had plenty of time to grab it. Unfortunately, Piers rolled his eyes at what Raihan said and sat back in his chair. He sat on Leon’s open hand and both men just froze for about solid minute as the opening scene of the movie rolled on. Piers opened his mouth but shut it just as fast, unable to articulate his thoughts. “...Uh... Can I have my hand back?” “Why is it on my ass in the first place?” The moment Piers shifted to release him Leon pulled his hand away. While embarrassed, he was still victorious, hiding Piers’s phone from the rocker’s view. “Everything alright, mate?” “Yeah, yeah... I thought there was gunk on your seat. I was just um picking it off before you sat down.” “Uh huh,” Piers didn’t feel like picking that apart, ready to sleep through this flick. “Well, next time you want to cop a feel, at least give me a warning.” “Sorry, Piers!” Leon grinned. The moment Piers looked away, he plugged the phone in. Any minute now. All it had to do was power on.

When the movie picked up, Leon completely forgot about the phone. He was so invested in the story that he didn’t notice it power on. Piers was asleep on his hand. Raihan was on his phone, texting Nessa about how terrible this movie was. He looked over to Piers, seeing the Rocker drooling slightly. He couldn’t pass this opportunity up, taking a picture of the sleeping Piers and then sending it to him immediately. “He’ll enjoy this pic when he wakes up.” Raihan snickered. Leon heard him but didn’t understand until Piers’s phone began to ring on his lap. The sound of the hard rock ringtone made Piers wake. He turned to Leon, confused to see his phone on his lap. Leon panicked and silenced the phone. “... Oh, It’s back on.” “Uh, yeah... I charged it for you!” “Oh that’s nice...” The groggy Piers looked at the screen. He saw a cut off text, a notification about a picture message and a missed call from Marnie. That was the only thing he really cared about, perking up to see the bright red ‘Missed call’. “Hey, I’m going to step out for a bit, I need to call Marnie back.” He reached for his phone and Leon took in a harsh breath. He gripped the phone tight, making Piers raise a brow. “Uh, it’s not polite to call in the middle of a movie.” “...I know? That’s why I said ‘step out’. Look, I have to call Marnie back. What if she needs me?” “I-I’m sure it’s nothing-” “Leon, this isn’t funny-” “Can you two keep it down?” A woman 2 rows ahead said suddenly, looking back at the men in disgust. “I’m trying to watch the movie-” “Spoiler alert, Rosco dies.” Piers snapped. A couple of people in the theatre groaned. Even Raihan seemed to be incredibly distraught by the news. “Give me the phone.” “No!” “Leon!” “I’m telling the manager.” The woman complained, getting up to leave the theatre. Piers just couldn’t let her leave without one last jab. “Go ahead, sweetheart, I’ve been kicked out of nicer places.” “Yeah, he got thrown out of the Hero’s bath in Circhester for throwing a bath bomb in there,” Raihan commented. That didn’t get the reaction out of Piers that he wanted and he finally started to look into what the hell was going on next to him. “You guys okay?” “Give me my phone!” “uh, um- BATTLE ME FOR IT!” “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” “Alright! Theatre battle!” Raihan seemed pumped at the idea. Even a few of the moviegoers were interested. The Ex Champion and the Ex Dark Gym leader. Even the manager, who just arrived with an angry patron in tow was oddly invested.

---

“Leon hasn’t answered at all!” You panicked. Marnie was of great support and Hop locked himself in your bathroom to protect himself. “I am so nervous. What if he failed? Oh, Piers will never talk to me again!” “I mean... I think the worst-case scenario is that he shows up at your house thinking you’ll sleep with him... Which I also think you might want-” “Marnie!” “I’m still convinced you like him... Maybe we shouldn’t have outsourced the problem to Leon.” Hop opened the bathroom door for a second but when you whipped your head in his direction he closed it again. “I was just going to say that they went to the movies! Maybe we could go and see what’s happening!” “That’s not a bad idea.” Marnie chimed in, “It would be better to explain it in person.”

There was a large crowd outside of the theatre when you all arrived. You exchanged a confused glance around before working through the crowd. In the center was Leon and Piers, each down to their last pokemon. Leon was biting his lip, at a type disadvantage. It looked like Piers was going to win this. Raihan seemed amazed, acting as the referee. When you Hop and Marnie showed up, Leon seemed to glow, gesturing to Marnie immediately. “Look, Piers, Marnie is here! Just ask her yourself!” “Marnie?” Piers turned around to look. Marnie gave a shy wave. Next to her, he saw you and he hoped that his heated cheeks weren’t visible. While he was distracted Leon took the phone out, deleting the latest Message Piers had received. He cheered to himself. “What are you doing here?” “Oh, um, nothing.” Marnie had to quickly think of something. Since the message was now deleted, it seemed counterproductive to bring it up. “I... wanted to know if the movie was good.” “Oh, no it’s garbage-” “Here’s your phone!” Leon called back his Rillaboom, handing Piers his phone. The sudden surrender made the crowd upset but Piers honestly was just confused. He had his own pokemon return, eyeing Leon suspiciously. “S-Sorry about that!” “... The fuck is going on?” “Hop! Buddy! Why don’t we go get something to eat? “ Leon suggested, putting his arm around his brother. Everything was moving so fast that Piers had no idea what to say. Raihan huffed but ultimately didn’t care. He strode over to Piers, putting his arm around him and poking at Piers’s phone screen. “Anyway, I sent you a pic of you asleep,” Raihan teased, “It should be your most recent message.” Hearing that made Leon freeze. Piers checked his messages from Raihan, shaking his head slowly. “Nah, mate, I’ve got nothing from you.” “What! Ugh, I’ll resend it.” “... Oh, Y/n, you texted me. Sorry I missed it.” He opened it before you could say anything and Hop saw that as the perfect opportunity to ‘nope’ out of there. Leon followed fast. Marnie didn’t want any part of this either, looking off to the side. You were speechless as Piers read the text, staring at it for a while. Over his shoulder, Raihan looked it over, his jaw dropping open once he finished. He pursed his lips and walked away, not wanting to get involved either. You tried to turn around and leave but the moment your back was to Piers it was over. He put his arm around your waist, pulling you to his side as you both walked off. He even cleared his throat cutely. “Piers-” “I think you and I need to talk about a couple things, love.”

#Piers #Sword and shield #swsh #pokemon #imagine #imagines #headcanon #headcannon #scenario #scenarios #x reader #fic #Piers pokemon

106 notes · View notes

sunnomnoms · 5 years ago

Note

I was wondering if you could possibly write a fluff of Mr compress x captive reader? I haven't seen many x readers of him around, but if your busy thats understandable or if you just don't want to that's also alright sorry if I wasted your time TvT

oh, this should be interesting! I was originally going to decline this request (I struggle with villains, aaa!!) but i feel as if it’s my duty to add to the void of fics there are for him!!!! I made this request a tad bit angsty as well, but it’s over all fluffy! I hope I wrote his character to your liking, if not, feel free to let me know of course!

Warnings: mini angst, cursing I think, Im trying my best to keep the reader gender neutral

Sako Atsuhiro with a... cute captive

You may have just been a civilian, but you put up quite the fight when you had been snatched off the street by your home. Unfortunately, this wasn’t a surprising occurrence. Part of you had been anticipating for the day you would be abducted, as you worked in the law and were close with a handful of heroes.

If anyone were to have information, surely it’d be you.

Unfortunately for the league of villains, you weren’t much for conversation.

“Sako,” Tomura called to his friend who had been pre-occupied, fidgeting with his new prosthetic arm. Tomura approached, a tired and aggravated look on his face as he removed the hand covering it.

“How can I help you?” Sako responded, standing up.

“We have a captive who won’t speak. We know they have information on something, but the twerp won’t say a damn thing.” Tomura said, aggravation present on his features as he scratched at his neck.

“I’ve decided I’ll leave them alone for now, because I have other things to do. I have to go meet with a few people in an hour or so. Do me a favor and keep an eye on that little rat for me.” He continued to speak as he turned away from Sako. Sako smiled slightly towards Tomura, despite him not looking to see it.

“You can count on me Tomura. I’ll be sure to inform you if they speak up on anything. You’ll be the first to know.” Sako called back to him as he placed his mask back over his face. He started off in the direction where the captive was held.

You had huddled yourself into the corner of the room, not eating the food they had offered you on one of the tables in the room. You were cold, scared and tied up, around your wrists and ankles. You were uncomfortable, and it didn’t help that you were abducted as soon as you got home from work, meaning you were still in business attire. Couldn’t they have grabbed you when you were in your pajamas or something?

You practically jumped out of your skin when you heard the door to the room open again. You hid your face in the wall, afraid of what this person might do to try and get information.

You heard footsteps towards you, and then they stopped. You heard the food of the table get shuffled around a bit, until... silence again.

“My, what a sad sight...” a voice called to you.

“If you’re worried about me harming you, fear not. I’m not here to make you speak, just to keep an eye on you.” The same voice called again.

You turned your face towards him, your cheeks tear stained as your eyes glistened with more tears. Your vision didn’t fail you, what looked like a showman sat on the table, his face turned towards you. You couldn’t tell if his eyes were fixed on you due to his mask, but you assumed they were. Sako found himself a little dazed looking at you. Even like this, you were quite cute. He smiled, even though you couldn’t see it behind the mask.

“There’s no need to cry dear, we have no intention of truly harming you.” He offered as a small bit of comfort. Though, he could tell it didn’t comfort you whatsoever.

“Your little friend who looks like he doesn’t shower? The one who needs some fucking lotion? Yeah, he pulled a damn knife on me, so don’t give me that!” You raised your voice a little, not exactly a yell but you were definitely close to one. Sako cursed to himself, planning to nag Tomura later for his threats of violence.

“Well, I’ll have to apologize on his behalf. He’s not exactly... easy to deal with in the first place, he’s stubborn. When he doesn’t get what he wants he can act out of line.” Sako said softly, hoping to try and ease your worry just a little. You’re more likely to speak that way, if you were comfortable, and because... well, he didn’t fancy seeing your pretty face cry.

He got up from his spot on the table, and took a few steps closer to you. He began unbuttoning his trench coat, and you watched his actions cautiously.

“What are you doing?” You asked him, your eyes staring holes into him as you spoke. You shook not only from the cold, but out of fear of just what his plans were with you. Tears welled up in your eyes more, what did he have under that coat?

He opened his coat to... well, noting. There were no weapons or hidden objects or anything. He took the coat off, and before you could process what was happening, he lightly tossed it so it would drape over you. It was a thick coat, and though afraid of this man... you indulged in his act of kindness. You shuffled and huddled into the warm coat comfortably, hiding your face in it.

“I imagine those clothes don’t do very much in the cold like this.” Sako spoke gently, as he sat on the ground with you. You shook your head, being honest. They really didn’t do much to protect you from this cold wave that recently rolled through. You heard him chuckle.

None of this really made much sense to you.

You turned your head up a bit, just enough so you’re eyes can peer at the man before you. His face had been turned when you looked, but when he noticed your movement, he shifted his gaze back to you. He cocked his head to the side lightly.

“Why are you... being so nice to me...?” You asked softly. Your question went unanswered for a few seconds. Sako rubbed the back of his neck a bit.

“Well, I didn’t like seeing you so upset.” He admitted, averting his gaze again.

“Wouldn’t you be used to that kinda thing? You’re a villain.” You inquired. You had a point, he WAS used to seeing people upset with his actions, and he WAS used to put being afraid of him. Why was this any different? Sure you were attractive and cute, but many of his other victims have been too. What’s the difference here?

“Well, it’s different when the person before you is completely innocent. I don’t commit petty crime, you know. I just give karma to those who deserve it, per se. I steal from the crooked and cruel upperclass, I kill those who have killed many others... I don’t act on complete malice. I’m not a madman.” He spoke honestly, his tone sounding a bit colder than he would have preferred.

“I don’t believe in the law, so I disobey it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t believe in order.”

His words struck you as surprisingly sane. Being apart of the law meant you knew of its pros and cons. You knew where it was crooked and dirty, you knew where it was dysfunctional. For the first time in your life, you found yourself understanding a villain. Though at the same time, this was the first time you had found yourself face-to-face with one so peacefully.

“I can understand that.” You replied, softly. “But the law is there to help, even if it’s not the best at it. It will improve with time.”

“Some of us can’t wait.” Sako shook his head as he spoke.

A small silence feel over the two of you.

“I never got your name.” He said as he looked back up at you.

“Why would I have given it?” You asked. He laughed lightly.

“Fair enough, you don’t have-“

“[Y/N]. I’ll uh, I’ll tell you that just... not my last name.”

He grew silent for a second, a small smile on his hidden face. He took the mask from his face, placing it on the ground next to him. His hazel eyes met yours as.

“You can call me Sako.”

70 notes · View notes

dinosaurs-last-day · 4 years ago

Photo

@nobodystentacle more Remy angst?!?!? You have a one track mind my friend. I can’t promise it will be any good, but I try. Sorry, this took slightly longer than I expected!

Note: this can be read as platonic or romantic, I don’t care which.

Go under the cut for story! Or, you can read it here on ao3!

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

“Remy darling, I love coffee as much as the next person, but don’t you think seven cups in a single morning is a bit extreme?” Janus asked as he watched Remy pour himself another cup of pure black coffee in the kitchen.

“Nah babes,” Remy said, laughing nervously, filling his mug to it’s limit. “I don’t think there’s such a thing as too much coffee, besides, I love the rush it gives me.”

Logan cleared his throat. “Actually, there is definitely such thing as too much coffee. If you-” Remy shushed him, not wanting to hear whatever scientific thing Logan was about to start quoting.

“I’m fine, I just like my coffee.” He walked out of the room, avoiding more questions. The moment he wasn’t visible, Remy yawned, his body begging for sleep. But Remy knew sleep wasn’t a good idea, he couldn’t deal with any of the nightmares he’d been dealing with. Remy physically cringed at the thought of those nightmares. He hadn’t told anyone about them because he wasn’t sure how to properly explain them without sounding crazy, and he didn’t want to feel like a burden to his friends. They all had their own lives and problems, they didn’t need Remy’s problems on top of all that.

Remy decided that he was going to do something active, something that he couldn’t fall asleep doing. He poured his coffee in a travel container and headed out the front door for a long walk.

Janus waited until he heard the door close, making sure that Remy was gone.

“I think coffee boi out there has a sleep problem,” Janus said, turning to Logan.

“Why do you say that?” Logan asked, looking up from his book.

“Look at him. He loves coffee, sure. But recently he’s been drinking more coffee in the span of a few hours that I’ve seen him drink in a couple of days normally. He’s totally out of it, he isn’t as quick on his feet as he usually is, and I’m 98% sure I saw some pretty dark bags under his eyes when he took off his sunglasses. He’s sleep deprived, and he’s trying to make up for it with coffee.”

Logan nodded. “Remy is a very vocal person, he’s not afraid to speak his mind on almost any subject. I would assume he’d say something if he had a problem, especially if the problem was important like a lack of sleep.” Logan continued to read his book, leaving Janus severely dissatisfied.

“I’m going to hide the coffee,” Janus said, getting out of his seat and headed to the kitchen.

“Why would you hide the coffee? People drink that you know,” Logan said, sighing and setting down his book.

“I believe that Remy is using it to stay awake. If he freaks out because the coffee is gone, that might tell us something.”

“Or he could just be freaking out because the coffee, his favorite drink, is gone simply because you don’t want to ask him directly if he’s been sleeping okay. Just talk to him, don’t make him suffer.”

“Fine, but if I talk to him and he doesn’t give me a clear answer, I’m hiding the coffee.”

Virgil walked into the kitchen at that exact moment, turning to Janus. “I have no clue what you’re talking about, but if you’re hiding the coffee, I’ll use your own technique and shove you down a flight of stairs.”

Remy finished his coffee way to quickly, so he decided to head back home to get more coffee. He jogged back to the house and opened the front door, headed straight to the kitchen.

But the kitchen entry was blocked by Janus. “Hello Remy darling. I think we need to talk.”

Remy rolled his eyes under his sunglasses. “Can we talk after I get my coffee? I’m all out.” He shook his travel mug to prove that it was empty of coffee.

“I think it’s best that you get coffee after we talk,” Janus said, pulling Remy into the living room and forcing him to sit on the couch.

“What is going on?” Remy said. “I feel like I’m about to get interrogated.”

“I’m not going to beat around the bush, I’ve been told that the best way to get an answer out of you is to just say what I’m thinking. Have you been losing sleep for any reason? How is your sleep pattern?” Janus stared at Remy, waiting for a response. Remy squirmed in his seat, visibly uncomfortable.

“If I answer honestly, can I get more coffee?” He asked.

“Depends. Now answer the question.”

“I’ve been sleeping just fine. I don’t know why you’re so worried.”

Janus sighed. “You do realize that you’re talking to the best liar in this house. I’m literally the Lord of Lies. I can tell when you’re lying, so please, let’s just be honest with each other.”

Remy stared at the coffee mug in his hands.

“Take off your glasses,” Janus said suddenly.

“What?”

“Take off your glasses or I will take them off for you.” Janus reached over but Remy blocked his hand and took them off. He had planned on putting some makeup under his eyes to cover his bags, but had never gotten around to doing it, so Janus could now see the full dark circles right under Remy’s eyes.

“Why haven’t you been sleeping Remy. You’ve practically shouted from the rooftops that you love to sleep, so why are you suddenly not sleeping? Why all the coffee, why the endless cycle of activities to keep you awake? You’re either going to die of exhaustion or too much caffeine at this point, neither sound very pleasant.”

Remy sighed, realizing that he couldn’t stop hiding his problems from his friends. “I’ve been having this reoccurring dream, a nightmare actually. Something from my childhood that I must have repressed and then dragged back up to the conscious part of my mind. But either it’s made me not want to sleep, so I’ve been fighting it with everything I can think of. Coffee, energy drinks, things to keep my mind active. Anything I can think of. As long as I’m not sleeping, I can’t have the nightmare.”

Janus thought for a moment. “Maybe if I helped, I could use some techniques I learned with Virgil to help you go to sleep with your mind in a much calmer state, which would make it less likely for you to have this nightmare. Please, let me try to help. It’s better than dying.”

“Fine, you can try some of your things.”

Janus stood up, offering Remy his gloved hand. Remy raised an eyebrow.

“Right now?”

“Yes right now, you need sleep. I don’t know how many days you’ve gone without it, but I can tell you that it’s definitely too many.” Remy took Janus’ hand and the two of them walked up the stairs and into Remy’s room.

“In bed, I’ll get the stuff.”

“What stuff?” Remy asked.

“A white noise machine, and some calming tea, which does not have caffeine. I also found that Virgil slept better when there was someone else in bed with him, but we can skip that one if you want.”

Remy thought for a moment. “We can try it, but I reserve the right to kick you out of bed at any point in the night.”

“Sounds good darling,” Janus said, leaving the room to go the the white noise machine and tea. He brought them back, handing Remy the tea and ordering him to drink the entire mug while he set up the white noise machine.

Once everything was set up and Janus had checked to see if Remy had finished the tea, Janus crawled into the bed next to Remy.

“It will probably work better if I was basically cuddling you, but if you don’t want that, then we do it your way,” Janus said. Remy nodded, scooting closer to Janus and letting Janus wrap his arms around the other person, holding him.

Remy wanted to complain about something, anything. But he felt so at peace and calm, that his brain started to shut down and he began to drift to sleep. In almost no time, he was was in a deep sleep.

That night he slept perfectly, without a single nightmare. He started using the white noise machine every night and the calming tea regularly. If he had problems sleeping, he’d ask Janus to come and help him fall asleep, and every time Janus was more than happy to help.

“I just want you to take care of yourself,” Janus would say every time he would crawl in bed next to a sleepy Remy. Remy would mumble something that Janus usually couldn’t make out, because Remy was already mostly asleep in Janus’ arms.

Janus allowed Remy to continue drinking coffee, as long as it was in moderation. Remy would complain a bit whenever Janus asked him how many cups he had drinken that morning, but he tried to be more mindful of his caffeine intake.

Soon, Remy didn’t worry about nightmares or lack of sleep. His sleeping pattern had returned to normal, all thanks to Janus.

---------

I hope you enjoyed this fic, it was so much fun to write!

If anyone wants to send me a writing prompt, I’m always grateful to receive more! Please read my rules (found here) and then leave the prompt in my inbox! If you stay off anon, I will be sure to contact you with details and things. Though if you leave it as an anon, that’s fine too!

#coffee addition #Remy Sanders #TS Remy #remy sleep #TS Janus #Janus Sander #Sanders Sides #sanders sides fanfiction #Sanders Sides fanfic #writing prompt #feel free to send in writing prompts #my writing #who let me become a writer #who let me become a writer?#nobodystentacle #ask #thanks for the ask!

10 notes · View notes