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taeescript · 4 years ago

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29+1 (Part One)

𝔰𝔶𝔫𝔬𝔭𝔰𝔦𝔰: In which Seokjin is the Devil from The Devil Wears Prada, Taehyung is your work Jesus and Jimin is your handsome successful brother.

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: seokjin x reader (taehyung x reader if you squint real hard)

𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔯𝔢: slice of life; ceo!seokjin (diva!seokjin)

𝔴𝔠: 3.6k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: heavy use of alcohol as a coping mechanism, a plethora of sarcasm (please don’t be offended) and a sprinkle of softness (is that a warning?).

𝔞/𝔫: this sat in my unwritten folder since 2017 no lie. I wrote the premise and a singular paragraph at that time, then just gave up. I opened it a few days ago, got inspired again and this word vomit came out (heavily influenced by a midnight Zoom call with my friends). Ngl this was so much fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did. This will probably be in three parts. 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔪𝔢𝔯: I did not know that DailyHive is an actual online news source when writing. This work is purely fictional and has absolutely nothing to do with the real DailyHive.

part two

Your friends have a saying: After 29, nobody shares their age until they’ve accomplished something.

In the past, you didn’t understand it. What’s so bad about saying you’re 30 or you’re 32? That’s still a young age! Sure, you’re not exactly in your prime anymore but you’re not old, right?

So, you continue in your own wondrous world of naïveté until that fateful day at your class reunion. You had simply been walking around, minding your own business when you had been stopped by an old colleague.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” she waves you down.

You smile kindly, not even bothering to try and remember her name (you sucked at names, what could you say).

“Hey…you!” you chuckle lightly, “How have you been doing?”

An everyday question leading to catastrophic effects.

“Oh you know,” she says and rolls her eyes as if you truly did know, “I’ve just been out and about. Did I tell you though? I got married last year!” She holds out her hand in which a giant diamond adorns her finger. “Wow!” you gasp, feigning interest. It’s not that you aren’t happy for her, but you are reminded of just how single you are currently. When was the last time you felt another human’s touch? Does kissing come back as easily as riding a bicycle? “Hey!” she says suddenly, “I’m actually meeting with a couple of friends from our class. You should come join! I’m sure they’d be happy to see you again!” You want to wave her off, but against your better judgment, you find yourself following in her footsteps and listening to her speak about wedding venues and honeymoon destinations.

“Oh my god!” another female voice filters in.

The “couple of friends” this old classmate had mentioned is in fact a fairly impressive size of twenty. This is also the third time the wedding announcement has been made.

“Last year?” the female continues, “Weren’t you young?”

Yes, you want to respond. Yes she was young. A full 365 days younger than she is now.

Your classmate, Sooyoung (or Kiko as she insists going by now) titters in front of you. “I mean, you can sort of say I’m a late bloomer. I got married when I was 31.”

Her words unintentionally cut into you. Here you are at 29 without a beau in sight. You take a fast swig of your beer and end up hitting the empty glass with a clink to your teeth. Nobody notices.

“Enough about me, however, how about you?”

“I started my own business actually. It’s been doing really well and it’s been a crazy mind. Imagine me, my own boss at only 33!”

You nervously join them when they suddenly laugh together.

“Hi, can I get another pint please? Actually add a tequila shot to that,” you whisper the last part to the waitress you had just stopped.

And that was how the rest of the night went. People asking one another what they had accomplished. Any moment in time after 30 would not be mentioned until somebody travelled to Uganda to build houses at 31 or another gave birth at the same age. Below 30, anything would be attributed to luck or in your case…

“What are you doing currently?” somebody asks you, “The little baby of our class.”

Swallowing your third tequila shot of the night, you wonder for the umpteenth time how you had become a part of this giant sharing circle. You wonder if it’s a blessing or a curse that you had graduated a little early and thus was younger than most of your peers.

“Well,” you start, “I’m currently working at DailyHive.”

“Ohh!” a man gushes. You recognize him as the once-upon-a-time science partner you used to cheat notes off of. “I use DailyHive nearly as much as Instagram these days. You guys cover everything from news to sports to fashion.”

You shrug. “Yeah. It’s, uh… it’s a pretty big company!”

“What are you doing there?”

Kiko-ex-Sooyoung hits the man teasingly on the shoulder. “Y/N is probably the Director of Marketing or something. Remember how she used to spend all class doodling in her notebook?”

“Or sleeping!” someone quips.

You don’t join in when they all laugh.

“I’m…an intern,” you say with as much pride as you can in a group of established professionals ranging from dermatologists to that one guy who had flown around the world as a TedTalk guest speaker.

A hushed silence befalls everyone.

“That’s…cool!” the same man encourages you, “Interns are totally rad! Everyone wants an intern spot these days.”

His girlfriend pats your arm, almost empathetically. “Yeah. I know a bunch of people who first start off as interns and then they shoot up the ladder quick enough. As long as you’re no longer an intern at 30, you’re golden!”

Once again, the entire group laughs as if she has said the most hilarious of jokes.

She composes herself and says to you, “Because after that, you should have accomplished something.”

Her words still ring in your ears as you sit at your desk this morning.

Yeah…something. All you need to do is accomplish something in the next three months before you are officially, 29 + 1.

Your fingers tap against your thighs silently while you observe the current debate that is occurring in the conference room. You barely have time to sweep the falling hair back behind your ear as your fingers ferociously fly across the keyboard to keep in track with the meeting.

Fei is arguing that the implement of a new search word system would boost users while Daniel says that it is a waste of resources. Instead, everything should be put into updating the entire system as a whole. You have long since lost track of their words as neither pertain to what you do as an intern.

“Enough,” the CEO of DailyHive holds up a hand. His one word causes the entire room to hush over – truly, the words of a god.

And that might as well be what he is. With his hair swept back and a lone tendril curling perfectly above his brow, Kim Seokjin is legitimately a walking god. Off his broad shoulders hang an expensive white linen suit bought with his pocket change and your yearly salary. A pair of sunglasses hangs in the V of the collared shirt dipping low enough to blur the lines between being fashionably professional and just downright sexy.

The snap of his fingers brings you back to the present.

He dramatically rolls his eyes and accepts that you are an incompetent minute-taker.

“I have to remember that the world just doesn’t move as fast as I do.”

- Quote: Rolling Stones 2019 Kim Seokjin.

Now if only he’d remember he had once said that.

He points at each of them with one finger, then swipes to the left. “Both of you, solve this outside. I don’t want to hear your voices any longer. You two from the marketing team, Ungroomed Stache and Acne Chin, create me a report if we are to implement Ms. Song’s idea. The two of you from…” he takes a pause here clearly having forgotten who his employees are, “The two of you do the same thing but for Mr. Hwang.”

The pair from accounting open their mouth to protest that they are in charge of only numbers, but they are ignored.

“All of you out now. Except you,” he points his finger directly at you, “Stay.”

Nobody utters a single word until they have all left and you are left alone with him. Standing before him with your hands folded nicely in front of you, you blink and wait.

He stares right back at you, picks up his coffee mug and drops it. The clatter of ceramic smashing against the ground causes a pause in the loud buzz outside the room. You know everybody’s focus has been shifted into the room.

“Do you want to kill me?” he drawls.

You take a long inhale. “No,” you say.

“No?” he repeats the word, “Well I think you do. Did you check this coffee before you brought it to me? I tasted cinnamon in it. You know how I’m allergic to cinnamon. Get me a new cup. And this mess, get somebody to clean it. I don’t want the smell of coffee in this room when I have my next meeting here in twenty. I’m taking a smoke a break.”

He stands up and brushes past you without saying anything else.

Nobody can be allergic to cinnamon. Besides if he had actually tasted cinnamon and was that sensitive, he would be dead. And good riddance to that.

Of course, you say none of this and wordlessly begin to pick up the broken ceramic pieces of the dead mug. The bustling outside the meeting room has returned back to its normal state of chaos. Seeing the ugly stain of coffee on the once pristine carpet causes you to swear beneath your breath.

“Who the fuck is allergic to cinnamon?” a new voice says, sliding up beside you.

The second god in DailyHive; the much nicer and evidently preferred Kim; Taehyung takes the mug pieces from you and drops it into the garbage bin.

Blessed with not only intelligence but devilishly model-like features, he is your desk buddy in the small space allotted for interns and your sole friend in the company.

“Tae,” you sigh with exasperation upon seeing your lifesaver, “What am I going to do about this stain? He’s going to return in fifteen and there’s no way I can get a coffee stain out of this expensive-ass carpet.”

Taehyung taps a long finger to his lips, leaves the room briefly, and returns with a roll of Bounty sheets and a can of Febreze. He promptly blots as much of the coffee off from the carpet then proceeds to pull the meeting table.

“C’mon, Y/N, don’t just stand there. Help me! Time is of the essence!”

You laugh and join him in moving the table so that one of the legs cover the stain 80% of the way. Once he is satisfied, he takes the Febreze and sprays until the whole room smells like “Hawaiian Aloha”.

“You’re welcome.” He gives an extravagant bow, the motion popping open the top button of his shirt to expose a surprisingly chiseled chest.

Fei returns back into the room holding a phone to her ear and a clipboard in her left hand. “What the hell? It smells like a Bath & Body Works in here. Intern, aren’t you supposed to be filing or something? Stop standing around and be useful.” She grips Taehyung’s arm and drags him out of the room. “Button up. This is a professional workplace.”

You give him a tiny wave as Taehyung is steered away by his girlfriend and back to the cubicles.

Taehyung may be your saviour at work, but outside, it cannot be denied that your brother is the true Fountain of Life.

A week has passed since the coffee incident (you suspect a cleaning personnel had found the stain and cleaned up after your improv as aforementioned stain can no longer be found), but Jimin still brings it up.

“I still can’t believe that he said he was allergic to cinnamon. I’ve never heard of such bullshit before,” your brother says over the phone. You can practically hear his eyeroll from across the world.

As a renowned ophthalmologist, you have not seen Jimin for close to a year as he has been initiating his new clinic, a flying eye hospital.

“You should hear his Starbucks order. I always feel like I’m ready to launch my next EP whenever I’m at the counter,” you say.

Jimin laughs. There is the muffled sounds of voices as his never-ending flow of patients have arrived for the day.

“I shouldn’t keep you,” you say upon hearing that, “You’re probably really busy.”

“No,” he says, “I’ve got a few minutes if you’ve got a few. I miss talking to my baby sister.”

“I’m not a baby anymore, Jiminie,” you say using the nickname he hated.

“Oh that’s right. Your birthday’s in a little under three months, right? My baby sister is turning the big three-oh.”

“God, don’t remind me.”

“Want me to come visit you?”

You contemplate the idea once, having not seen Jimin in quite a while.

“Only if you have time. But I feel like Mom and Dad would probably want to see you more. Speaking of which, um… How are Mom and Dad?”

“They’re good. I hear Dad is finally going to retire this year. He’s giving his practice to Kibum, you remember him? Mom will probably start pestering us about what to do for his retirement party.”

There is a pause.

“You know, it wouldn’t hurt to say hi to them once in a while.”

You sigh. “And say what? Hey, it’s me. The child that ran away from home at 18? Yeah, I’m not a doctor like everybody else in the family but a 29 year old intern at a popular app company. Whassuuup?”

“Y/N, that’s not what I – ”

“It’s okay, Jimin. I’ve come to accept that not everybody is cut out to be a doctor. I just wish Mom and Dad could realize that.”

Jimin sighs on your behalf. There is the sound of a crying child coming through the earphone. ��Well, your contract expires a few weeks after your birthday, right? Who knows, you might be the next Mark Zuckerberg.”

He has never explicitly inquired about your life plan and you know this is as much as he is willing to push without asking, “What’s next after this intern hiccup?” At least he had the decency to compare you to a controversial Internet entrepreneur.

The child is crying much louder now.

“Again with my birthday. But I’ll let you know,” is the only reply you can come up with at the moment. “Okay, brother, go forth and heal the blind. I bless thee in the name of the Holy Spirit, Son and Ghost.”

There is true laughter that rings from Jimin as he ends the call. “It’s Father, Son and Holy Ghost you dweeb. I love you sis.”

“You too.” You hang up first before he can add anything else.

With that, you enter into the 7am Starbucks queue and prepare yourself in running the first single of your long overdue EP.

Seokjin leans back in his chair, watching you from inside his office. Today he has chosen a black turtleneck and a brazen maroon-nearly purple suit jacket to complete the outfit. For once, there is an empty mug of coffee beside him and his morning headache has been appeased.

He knew he had given you an impossible task.

“Compile all the troubleshooting errors we have received since the launch of DailyHive. Organize it in a manner that allows me to identify the most prominent problem. Run it through whomever you please before giving it to me. I don’t need to waste my time correcting your mistakes.”

There is an amused smile that bubbles beneath his otherwise stoic features. He cannot deny that there is, might he dare say, a cute quality about you as you manually scan through the received concerns on your laptop dating back to the initial beta tests – the ones that were lost in a data crash and only backed up with unintelligible scribblings of previous interns.

The moment you had been introduced as the new intern, you had caught his eye. You are exquisitely mundane, and perhaps the reason you had even caught him the first time was due to solely to the fact that you were older than most interns – himself even. Nevertheless, you continue to present him small surprises in your tenacity and capability to tackle challenges.

“Mr. Kim.”

His intercom comes alive with the voice of his secretary.

Seokjin’s eyes do not leave you as he answers.

“Mr. Hwang is on line two. Would you like me to defer him to a later time if you are currently busy?”

Seokjin cannot help but sigh. Hwang Junho, his co-founder, while a genius in international business is also a notorious chatterbox and gossip. There is seldom a reason for Junho to call him except to relay the cover titles of E!Magazine.

“Did he mention a reason for calling?” Seokjin inquires.

His secretary seems to be reading from a note. “He says it’s to do with the company. Something he read from Cosmopolitan this morning.”

So not E! but another sister celebrity gossip blog. He checks his watch and duly notes that he certainly has no meetings scheduled until later in the afternoon where your report would be needed to run a preliminary analysis.

“Sir?”

“Yes, put him through. But tell him I’ve got only five minutes, so he’s better give me the Cliffnotes version,” Seokjin sighs again.

Before he can be connected, Seokjin quickly says, “What’s the name of that intern again?”

“Who?” his secretary asks, “We’ve hired four since the beginning of the year.”

“The one who keeps wanting to poison me.”

“I’m sorry, Sir?” she sounds concerned.

“The one who keeps forgetting that I despise cinnamon.”

There is no response.

“The older one. Spilled coffee a while ago but still has enough coordination to pull together a decent report.”

“Ah,” she says.

He waits patiently as she searches through the database, eventually giving him your name. He gives a slight pause and then says, “Good. Now patch me with Junho.”

There is a momentary buzz as the call becomes connected in which Seokjin turns over the syllables of your name wordlessly.

“Mr. Kim. The man of the hour. How are you, my brother?” Junho’s baritone fills the office in a manner of seconds.

Despite the little annoying quirks, Seokjin cannot help but smile when hearing the voice of his best friend.

“You’ve got three minutes, Junho.”

Junho grumbles. “That’s not my fault. You were the one still on the line with your secretary. Is it still Yerin? ‘Cuz I won’t blame you if that’s the case. Did I catch you doing some naughty phone sex during office hours?”

“Two.”

“Holy hell. Fine. It’s always business with you. That’s why the tabloids are always writing you as an uptight asshole.”

This shifts Seokjin’s attention to the phone. His name is seldomly mentioned except for the features in business columns. He prefers to stay out of the limelight.

“What?”

“Put your name on Google.”

Seokjin does as he is told.

There are millions of results, but the first few pages share the same headline. He clicks on the first one with a grimace.

“Kim Seokjin. Mr. Worldwide Handsome as noted by his fans, has recently sparked Internet outrage.”

A quick skim of the otherwise trashy article brought to the surface a summary: his last dating scandal had ended badly and the repercussions of blowing off a famous celebrity’s daughter had finally caught up with him. The Internet was calling him arrogant, narrow-minded, and even greedy. “The young Chief Executive Officer of booming social media app DailyHive has been accused of using his relationship with actress XYZ to further his own business. Once he gained recognition from aforementioned relationship, he has cold-heartedly cast her away to pursue his next.” “You’re calling me for this bullshit?” Seokjin scoffs. Junho tuts his tongue loudly. “This is not bullshit. It’s affecting the image of your company. Do you think people want to download and support an app that is run by somebody who is being called cruel and dishonest? You’ve got to address this soon before it gets out of control. You’re lucky I have alerts set for these type of things. I caught it for you just in the nick of time.” Seokjin inhales deeply. “You’re also lucky that I’ve got the perfect solution in mind.” “That is?” “The Silver Gala,” Junho references the prestigious event. The Silver Gala is hosted annually and attended by the largest celebrities as well as other wealthy investors and guests. Those in the social circle shared between Seokjin and Junho often yearned for tickets to attend events such as this, as they serve as excellent networking opportunities. Besides the above, such events are circled by reporters and writers of gossip columns to get the exclusive scoop on any eyebrow-raising rumours. “The solution lies in such an event,” Junho continues, “You know how many people will be there. All you’ve got to do is show up with your average girl-next-door type and it’ll show how you’re actually really humble and down to earth. Kim Seokjin is perfectly capable of dating like any regular human being. He doesn’t use “love” or whatever to further his business. Love is the connection between two souls; two individuals who – ” “Beep. Your time has run out Junho. I’ve got another meeting scheduled right this moment,” Seokjin interrupts. “Dude, seriously. Think about it. You could bring Yerin. Everbody loves a good CEO and his secretary affair. And if that’s too juicy for you, I can introduce you to some girls. Or maybe we could go back to our university days and hit a bar, y’know?” Junho tries his best to persuade. “Fuck!” you swear beneath your breath right as you walk into Kim Seokjin’s office. His door had been open and, in your excitement to show your completed report, you had dropped all the loose papers on the ground. Four hours of organization gone, just like that. You hope that at least Seokjin hasn’t heard or noticed you as he had been engrossed in his phone call. Seokjin had in fact noticed you. He can’t help himself but follow the curvature of your bare shoulder as your bangs escape the hold of your scrunchie and sweep across your skin. “Don’t worry, Junho, I’ve just thought about it,” he says with a smile.

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gb-patch · 4 years ago

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Ask Answers: August 8th

Well, doing big posts all together worked for a while but lately I’ve been putting it off because it takes a long time to get them done. I think I’m gonna try switching back to answering asks whenever I can fit it in and posting them one at a time instead of waiting until I’ve filled out one of these major collections.

But for now, here’s more ask answers! Thank you for the questions and for all the kind words along with them ^^.

Hello!! I'm here to ask if its possible to get the game and its dlcs on steam and play it on android?

I’m afraid not. Steam doesn’t have Android builds on their own site and Steam is not cool with keys for other sites being given out for Steam purchases, so you don’t get the Itch version from buying on Steam.

Hello! Sorry to bother you but, I had a question, if we buy the Game on itchio do we get steam keys or would we need to purchase it twice?

You would have to buy it twice if you want it in both places, I’m sorry. To repeat myself a little, Steam doesn’t like the key trading thing. Itch may support giving keys for another site, but the reverse isn’t doable with Steam and Steam doesn’t even really want you to get a Steam key for buying somewhere else either. So we just don’t mess around with that.

hey, sorry if this is frequently asked, but is step 4 free dlc or paid for? some of your sources are contradicting each other.

It’s free! There’s a paid wedding DLC, but Step 4 itself is entirely unpaid.

Hello! I just had a quick question, for the Baxter and Derek DLC's will we be able to confess our feelings to them or let them confess to MC? or will it only be one way? (they confess to MC)

Both type of options will be available!

Hey there! I wanted to ask whether or not the Derek DLC is still on track to be released in August since on the steam discussion board it says it will be released mid 2021. I totally understand if it isn't, I'm just really looking forward to it! If you answer then ty! And keep up the amazing work :D

It’s not, aha. Unfortunately, 2021 wasn’t easier than 2020 as we hoped so things are still slower than planned. It’ll come out late 2021 or early 2022.

Hi! Firstly I just want to say that I LOVE Our Life. I have played a bit of similar games but this one instantly wins for the best one! Everything about it is amazing! I just wanted to ask if Derek would ever lose feelings for MC, like if they make the deal and then MC gets with Cove would he move on? and even if you don't, after "losing contact" would his feeling fade or would he still like MC?

If you don’t really keep in touch with him and clearly move on with your life, Derek will too and he’ll be over it. But if you are still close as best as you can be, he’ll still think the MC is special. Though, he’ll always support your relationship with someone else if that’s what’ll make you happy.

Hello! Sorry if you've answered this before but: 'How's Lee related to us? Though which momma? And does she share our player-chosen last names? Also, do you know if Noelani took Pam's last name or did it happen the other way round?

She’s related to Pamela and Pamela’s last name is the one they use, so the MC has the same last name as Lee.

Will we be able to choose which (they or he) we tend to call Qiu by more often, or will it randomly change depending on the moment?

Qiu knows which pronoun they’re comfortable with at a time and you’ll call them what they’re happy with. And it doesn’t change between lines, it takes multiple scenes or even full Steps for it to switch. So for extended periods Qiu will be totally a guy or fully agender.

Will Step 4 of OL2 have moments?

It’ll be an epilogue like it is in OL1, so it won’t have a bunch of different Moments.

Hello! Just a quick question, is Sunset bird from OL1 based on a real location? If so what's it called? I wanna visit it +_+

ps i love your games so much <3

It isn’t based on one specific town you can go to, but there are a lot of little coastal towns in Cali that have a similar vibe!

Heyaaa ( I hope you're all well ), umm… it might seem kinda stupid to ask but did Patreon members can have a key for the dlc's ( all the steps-released dlc ) even if they became a member this month or later ? (me? saying this cuz it's my case? maybe ;-;), and once again thanks for absolutely all the amazing works on all the games ! u-u

You wouldn’t get the DLCs for backing there. The Patreon is for extra bonus content/early access, rather than being a storefront to purchase the normal DLCs. Rarely we give them out as a side gift, but it hardly happens and if what you want is the DLCs it’s best to ignore the Patreon and buy keys for those directly from Itch or Steam. I’m sorry for the confusion.

Hey y'all, love what youre doing w/Terry. Trans rep outside of player customization is so rare and important to see more of so thank you so much. I do have a question and its that does he have a canon sexuality? I know Miranda was said to be straight ace but I dont believe anything was stated for Terry probably because he wasnt revealed to be a guy which changes things. Im also curious if well get answers on how long hes liked Miranda since he may have liked her in step 3 before she liked him

Terry likes women and Randy likes men! And he did like Miranda back in Step 3.

Will the Wedding Dlc release at the same time as Step 4?

They’ll come out separately with Step 4 releasing first.

I really love Our Life so much! I've spent over 20hours playing it even though I only got it a week ago! I was wondering if I could make a fangame for Our Life with a different love interest but same plot. Next-door neighbors romance, multiple steps, etc? I'll probably make it on Google Slides though-

Sure! I hope you have fun with it and I’m glad you love the game.

How does Cove feel about poly relationships?

He’s got nothing against them for the people they work for, but he’s 100% monogamous and would only be comfortable with a partner who was willing to be monogamous with him.

Idk if this has been answered before but will Step 4 include the option to advance your feelings towards Cove?

Yep, you’ll be able to determine your feelings and what your relationship is.

In step 4 will there be a chosen to say we live with Cove even as just friends?

Yeah, you can choose to live with Cove and that can be done when you’re friends.

I just played the game with the MC and Cove being best friends and omg it’s still so damn cute like the wholesomeness of it all is too much for my heart I swear ^.^ Now with that all said I was wondering can we still marry Cove? if we only love him as a friend like let’s say we’ve made deal with him similar to the one we can make with Derek because let’s real no one could compete with what the MC and Cove have even if they aren’t in love.

It’s great to hear you enjoyed the friendship story! You can live with Cove, but you can’t marry him platonically. Cove has familial affection for the MC if they’re best-est friends. He wouldn’t think to marry someone he loves like family and even grew up with as though they truly were siblings.

Are you still going to be making a DLC for XOBD? :]

Yes! We’re slowing adding voiced lines and fixing errors.

It makes me laugh that Shiloh's last name is Fields because that's what I put as my last name! So in Our Life when he talked about "Ms. Fields" picking him up I was extremely confused, lol. That dude mimics personalities so much that he stole my surname!

Oh, wow, that’s a very funny coincidence, haha.

hi !! i cant seem to be able to get the scene where mc is able to propose to cove despite being at the 'love' stage and telling him i'd want to get married, are there any other details that im missing out on? the options just dont appear at the end...

Maybe you missed telling Cove you were in love with him even if you mentioned wanting to get married or you might’ve accidentally said earlier in the game that you don’t want to progress your relationship further with Cove. We haven’t removed them, so you can get the scene again. It’s just kind of easy to miss since there’s multiple requirements. You can read a little guide in the FAQ.

wait what di you need to do to be able to propose to cove? I've been trying but haven't had much luck

You can check out the FAQ linked above!

does cove only develop a crush on the mc if the mc is also at crush/in love with him?

Technically, yes. We treat the non-romantic relationship options as truly non-romantic since we don’t want to bait and switch people. But there’s nothing wrong with headcanoning that Cove does have feelings developing for the MC even before the MC has.

Is there a way to make/allow Lee and Baxter to date?

No, they just don’t have enough time together.

We also got a group of asks related to Tamarack in OL2, but I’m afraid the way they talked about people with larger bodies made me not want to post their words, even if the person didn’t say they’re trying to be hurtful. I will separate out the core question and answer it though, so people can know that info.

Does Tamarack lose weight in later Steps?

No, she doesn’t. As for the other questions included, to be honest, I don’t have to explain/defend having romance options of different sizes. I’m sorry if you’re dealing with unhappiness that’s connected to body image, if that’s where the negative emotions are coming from, but even so I can’t meet you on that level and pretend it’s a problem that needs an answer. A girl who simply isn’t thin being a main love interest is just not an unreasonable concept. Also, Tamarack isn’t a lesbian. Yes, she can date a female MC, but that doesn’t undo her actual sexuality, so I’m not sure where that one part at the end was coming from.

I wonder... can we "fight" with Qiu over leader status? 👀

Not really, haha. No matter how cool your MC is, they’re never gonna replace Qiu for the other kids around. So you can either partner up with him, follow him too, or not be a part of all that group politics stuff.

So when I play the game, sometimes I mentally call Cove “Covie/Covey” and that made me wonder, how does Cove feel about being nicknamed? Not like Romeo/Space Cadet/etc. but like pet names relating to his actual name

It’d depend on his age, personality, and your relationship with him! When he’s younger he’d probably be embarrassed, when he was grown he’d probably be more casual or happy about it.

will you be able to date baxter in step 3 while at crush with cove (but not dating him ofc) sorry if this has been asked already. i really love baxters step 4 design btw!!

Yeah, you can be crushing on Cove and date Baxter if you weren’t already dating Cove. You just can’t be truly in love with Cove and then switch to Baxter.

I just got my friend into our life, and they adore shiloh and derek sooo will there be more of them in the second game?

I’m afraid not. But you can see plenty more of Shiloh in XOXO Droplets/XOXO Blood Droplets, haha.

I see you haven't gotten any xoxo droplets asks recently but I'm still obsessed with these boys!! I was just wondering if Nate would curse under any circumstance?

Yeah, Nate does use certain swear words (damn, hell, bastard) on very rare occasions.

Hi there! I have a question about the wedding dlc. Will we be able to plan a honeymoon during the planning stages of it or would it be something that Cove and the mc would rather plan later on? Thank you! Absolutly love the game by the way, definitely one of my favorite games!

The focus will be on the wedding day itself. The topic of the honeymoon might come up a bit, but there won’t be any choosing of the exact location and such.

Hi! I have two questions and it's completely understandable if you only answer one/neither and I'm sorry if you've already answered either before! First, is there a set year in which OL:B&A takes place (ex: Step 1 being set in 2010 & Step 2 being set in 2016, etc.) or is it simply up to interpretation? Second, have you guys thought about doing a coming-of-age game where the MC has a tough home life or upbringing? (like one of their parents is an addict, a parent being transphobic whilst the player has the option to be trans, or having friends that are influencing them to do drugs, etc.) That's all! Thanks for making beautiful games. <3

There is a set timeline!

Step 1: 2006 Step 2: 2011 Step 3: 2016 Step 4: 2021

And we don’t currently plan on making a game like that. The Our Life series exists to be a safer environment for people to play around in and if we did do a brand new series that was harsher edged it’d be something more fantastical and/or plot-driven instead of a different type of modern day slice-of-life growing up story. I’m sorry.

i don’t know if you’ve already answered this, but do you have a guess on when phase 4 will come out? as well as ol2? i’m so excited for both of them, the inclusivity in this game is amazing, you guys should be really proud of it!

Step 4 will be coming out very soon! OL2 is gonna take until 2023 to be anywhere near completion. But we might episodically release the Steps one at a time as they get done instead of waiting for three to be finished before launch like we did with the first game.

Hello, I was curious if there was an official or unofficial discord server for the game?

We do have a discord! You can join by clicking this link HERE.

how long do you plan to keep ol's patreon running?

Hopefully for at least a few more years.

Are you considering ever making merch?

Yeah, but I don’t know when it’ll happen or what exactly we’ll make, aha. It’s something we want do, just nothing is set.

hi! i just found out about your game a couple of days ago on tiktok (so sorry if you’ve already answered this question) and i was wondering if y’all are ever planning to release it on iOS?

I have no idea. It’s hard for a small group to get Apple approval and I honestly can’t say if it’ll ever happen or not. Maybe someday, though!

Hi, I love the art style of Our life and I would like to know if the artist has a Twitter? Also, could it be possible to fund more CGs for the game from him/her? So many times, I wish there was one like when the cutscene of the sunshower.

That’s nice of you to offer. He doesn’t have a Twitter, at least not one that’s public enough to be shared with me. And I’m afraid not. The issue is that the CGs take huge amounts of time rather than there not being a budget for it. He’s gotta make CGs for Step 4, the DLCs, and new character sprites, too. There isn’t space in the schedule for even more. Sorry for that.

Hi, how are you?!

Are you planning on accepting new writers or is it always the same people who write your stories??

Thanks!!

Our Life: Beginnings & Always won’t be getting new writers, but we will be hiring a new team of writers for Our Life: Now & Forever eventually!

perhaps this counts as nsfw and I'm sure it has been answered before but what does Cove prefer, chests/boobs or butts? or perhaps both :3c thank you for this wonderful game (and the patreon bonus moment, it was worth all the waiting and more ♥)

He’s a “chests of all shapes and sizes” kind of guy, haha.

i was wondering- did any of the writers actually grow up by the beach? as someone who's lived in a beach town all their life it really did feel nostalgic to play through our life 1

I was born and raised in Cali! Though, not right by the beach. We still had to make trips out, but the setting is based on my own childhood memories of small beach towns we went through.

In Derek’s upcoming DLC, will we be able to reference the pact we made as teens? (love olba and xod/xobd so much btw you’re literally amazing)

Yep, you will be able to talk about that!

Oh, sorry about the Cole being secretly L ask, then!

If you wanted context: Death Note is about this one guy who finds a notebook that kills anyone who you write the name of in there. The guy eventually develops a God Complex and starts mass killing criminals and stuff. L is the one trying to find out who is killing all these people.

Me and my sister first joked about it because I couldn't remember how to translate a word about the way Cove was sitting, so I just did the pose, and it looked a lot like how L himself sits! Then we just snowballed from there, with more and more nonsense connections.

That’s okay! Thanks for explaining. I’m sorry I didn’t know what you meant.

#our life #ask #gb patch #gb patch games

174 notes · View notes

sabraeal · 4 years ago

Note

Consider: Obi is green-red color blind

A Color by Any Other Name

Written for @aeroplaneblues for a surprise birthday gift! Many months ago she mentioned wanted to see a colorblind Obi, and I said, WELL WHAT A GOOD EXCUSE TO WRITE THIS PROMPT JOANNA GAVE ME. I hope your birthday is a good one, filled with a lot more nice surprises!

“Are you ever going to introduce me to your guard friends?” Suzu asks around a mouthful of dumpling. “Or are you embarrassed?”

To say Obi is unprepared, would be an understatement; there’s a pork bun lodged between his teeth, his gloves not only coated in pig grease but also far less effective against steam than he’d thought they’d be back when he’d just grabbed a plump little blob off the stall. He’d laughed off Suzu’s concerns about protective equipment; after all, if smiths use leather gloves, they’ve got to be just as good as an oven mitt.

They aren’t. Not to mention the roof of his mouth starting to have a real good think about peeling off and having a vacation. Maybe even with someone who doesn’t eat entire dumplings straight from the basket.

“Wha?” he manages eloquently, nearly drooling spicy meat drippings onto the street.

“I know I’m not cool like they are,” Suzu continues, warming to his new thesis. If his sudden flush of confidence is any measure, he’s spent more of time composing his arguments for this than Obi’s ever seen him work on his actual defense. “And I’m no good with a sword. Or fists. Or really any implement that isn’t a scalpel, and any opponent that isn’t already anesthetized. But I am very smart.”

There’s a thoughtful pause before Suzu adds, “Some people do enjoy that, you know.”

What Obi knows is that this kid tried this conversation on for size in front of Yuzuri, and she didn’t even bother to warn him as a courtesy. See if he buys her any more meat-on-sticks when she’s ‘left her purse in the lab’ now.

“That’s not--” he takes a hurried minute to swallow-- “not what’s happening. I didn’t...”

Even know you knew I didn’t work for the pharmacy. His teeth clamp shut around that winner, and its friend, I didn’t think you lot would want to hang out with a bunch of men without degrees. Not only would that encourage Suzu to make a scene right here, right now, but if it got back to Jirou-- well, if he thought Suzu could turn any day into a disaster, the lieutenant would make that seem like a vacation.

“I didn’t think you wanted to,” he settles on instead. Similar enough in feel, if...creatively edited. “You scholar types tend to flock together.”

“Well, sure,” Suzu murmurs, stymied, “but we’re friends too, aren’t we? If all my friends are your friends, then all your friends should be my friends.”

Only an academic could talk about arithmetic with that amount of confidence, especially the kind that involved transitive properties and letters, and all sorts of things that made Obi’s head spin.

“Well,” he hums, one boot scratching his calf. “You would know.”

Suzu whirls on him, staring down his long fox-snout of a nose. “You mean it? You’ll really...?”

“Sure. If that’s what you want.” He twitches his shoulders, more casual than he feels. “It’s fine if it’s you.”

There’s always been a lazy lilt to Suzu’s eyes, but it disappears now, all the sleepiness gone to surprise. “Me? You wouldn’t want to bring anyone else?”

“Well, definitely not Kazaha.” The glares he’d get bringing that twiggy pedant into the guardhouse might be enough to drop him dead on the spot. “And Yuzuri would be too popular.”

Suzu grimaces. “The number of admirers she’d get from a wink alone...she’d be unlivable.”

He can see it now, her ponytail bobbing with a buoyant glee, giggling through every painstaking penned line from her fan club-- “Think of all the bad poetry.”

“Honestly, that might make it worth it. At least I’ll feel better about not knowing the difference between a quartet and a quatrain.” Suzu takes a thoughtful bite of him bun. “And you couldn’t bring Shirayuki, of course.”

“Right.” Not a one of them could be trusted to keep their lips sealed; she’d hardly have to take a breath and someone would call her Obi’s lady, or ask how they met, or whether she’s still Mistress behind closed doors--

But Suzu wouldn’t know any of that. “Wait, why?”

“Well...” He has the grace to look chagrined about it, whatever it is. “You know. Her hair...?”

“Oh.” Obi shrugs. “Sure, I guess.”

“You guess?” Suzu stares. “Shirayuki has a non-zero amount of stories about being kidnapped for looking like a candied apple, and you guess there might be a fuss about bringing her ‘round to the guardhouse?”

“Well, none of you acted weird about it,” he snips, hiding his annoyance behind a bite of dumpling. “There’s no reason they will.”

“Of course no one at Lilias acted weird, Obi!” he squawks, arms flailing as he talks. “You couldn’t pay them to look at anything but their own project. But when a bunch of normal men with eyes and, uh, other working appendages see a cute girl with red hair and a soft voice, they’re gonna go crazy!”

His palm hooks around his shoulder, thumb digging into the hard knot at his collarbone. “Aw, come on. It’s not that special.”

“Not that--?” Suzu whips around, eyes round as dumplings. “Obi, she’s the only person I’ve ever seen with red hair.”

“You don’t get out much,” Obi deadpans. “No offense.”

“That’s not--” Suzu grunts, throwing up his hands-- “She’s the only person anyone’s ever seen with red hair!”

“Her dad’s is kind of red.” That observation wins him an unimpressed look, one that says you’re missing the point. “And Yuzuri had blue hair when I met her. That’s way more interesting--”

“It was dyed!” Suzu wobbles over to a wall, sitting with his head in his hands. “Shirayuki has a hair color so rare that the birth records in Clarines haven’t noted it in more than fifty years! And you think Yuzuri dying her hair with woad is more impressive.”

“Well, even her natural color is brighter than Miss’s. Not--” he waves a hand between them, quelling-- “that Miss’s hair isn’t nice enough. But I’d think that people would pay more attention to that.”

“...Brighter?” Suzu murmurs after a long moment, stilted. “Obi, could you tell me what color that sign is, right over there?”

“The one for the tea shop?” He wrinkles his nose. “Why--?”

“Just...indulge me for a moment.”

“All right.” He squints up at the moon cresting over a wolf’s head. “Blue.”

“Right, and, um, that coat over there.”

“Yellow.”

“Right.” Suzu’s voice is tight, stressed. “And what I’m wearing?”

Obi squints. This one’s a little harder, but he’s confident when he says, “Green.”

“Ah, right.” Suzu stands, a unsteady on his feet. “That would explain that, then.”

Obi blinks. “Explain what?”

“Obi,” Suzu begins, with all the gravitas of both a grim prognosis and a terrible joke. “You can’t see colors.”

It’s not the first time Obi’s played hound to his prey’s fox, but there’s something distinctly unsettling about it being Suzu that leaves him lagging behind, unsure of himself. Especially with the way he scurries through the concourse, bounding toward the mess hall with this idea caught between his teeth like chicken feathers.

“I can see colors just fine,” Obi informs him with far less confidence than he’d like. “Some of them are just hard to tell apart. Weren’t you and Yuzuri arguing yesterday about whether salmon is orange or pink?”

Suzu waves a hand at him, dismissive. “That’s different. Salmon’s both orange and pink, and what color it looks most like has to do with the composition of your eye-- and it’s pink by the way, with orange undertones--”

Between the two of them, Obi knows who he’d trust to know their colors. “Uh-huh.”

“You can’t make out red and green, which is different entirely, and--” the doors to the mess burst open beneath his hands, a noise lost in the din of a hundred scholars trying to share the same table-- “YOU GUYS WON’T BELIEVE WHAT I JUST FOUND.”

The whole of Shidan’s lab-- minus the man himself-- have taken up right by the door, bags and coats piled to save them their places on the bench. Suzu makes short work of the pile on his seat, haphazardly shoving them to the floor as he sits.

Kazaha peers at him and ventures mildly, “A new way to avoid finishing your thesis?”

“No,” Suzu hums between his grit teeth, “but I have found out--”

“I don’t think we need to do this,” Obi murmurs, handing Miss her muffler. “It’s not--”

“Obi,” he intones with far more gravitas than his name has ever strictly deserved, “can’t see colors.”

“Not at all?” Kazaha turns those sharp eyes to him, like he’s a specimen under glass. “Just black and white?”

“I can see just fine,” Obi huffs, tossing Yuzuri her coat before he slides onto the bench, knee knocking into Miss’s in a way that puts his heart through its paces. “Suzu is just making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“Is that so?” he hums with a grin. “Then what color is Shirayuki’s hair?”

He stifles a sigh. It’s best to put all this to bed now, before he’s stuck playing what’s this color for the next two years. “Red.”

“What’s the point of this?” Yuzuri yawns, already bored. Obi shoots her a grateful look, glad that at least one of them isn’t going to play Suzu’s game.

It’s too bad he’s already puffed up with unearned confidence, like an evolutionist at a botany lecture. “And what’s the color of Ryuu’s cloak?”

He knows it by heart-- how could he not, when the two most important people in this city wear matching ones-- but still Obi glances up, anticipating a trick. Ryuu stares back, confused and guileless. “Blue.”

“Great, good.” Suzu’s grin stretches from ear to ear. “Now what color is your scarf?”

Obi’s fingers knot in the fabric, the weft tickling the pads of his fingers. “Well, it’s...sort of reddish, isn’t it?”

This is the wrong answer.

“It makes so much sense,” Yuzuri murmurs in wonder. “You really don’t know how ugly Suzu’s outfits are. That’s why you still hang out with him.”

“Hey!” Suzu pouts. “That’s not very nice.”

“No, that has nothing to do with color, it’s the cut.” Anxiety spikes through him. “But wait, it is red isn’t it? My scarf?”

“No,” Miss murmurs at his side, cheeks flushes. “Obi, it’s...it’s green.”

He stares down at it, trying to imagine what that might look like. “Green.”

“It looks very nice on you!” Her small fingers wrapping in the fur at his elbow. “It’s your color, really.”

“Oh, sure,” he murmurs, faint. “I guess it matches my eyes.”

“Hey, what do you mean ‘it has nothing to do with the color?’“ Suzu’s hands fly to his hips, brows drawn tight over the long line of his nose. “My clothes are just fine.”

“They aren’t.” Obi leans in next to him, grin feeling thinner than it should. “But I hang out with you anyway, which means you know we’re really friends.”

Kazaha rubs at his chin, where his ode to Shidan’s goatee is failing to thrive. “You know what this also explains?”

Obi blinks. “What?”

“All the black.”

It’s not Kazaha that says it, oh no. That would be too merciful for a mortifying moment out of his life. Instead it’s low and feminine, and when Miss Kiki leans out from the other side of Miss, it’s like a siren emerging from the depths, teeth bared to tear a man to shreds. “What an interesting thing I’ve learned today.”

“Miss Kiki! How--?” He gulps. “Why--?”

“I came to deliver a message from Wirant,” she drawls, too pleased. “And it seems I’ve earned myself a fine tip.”

“No,” he breathes. “You can’t-- you’re not going to tell Master, are you? Or Sir?”

“Oh,” she hums, looking particularly hungry for manflesh. “I certainly will.”

“Oh, there there.” Miss pats his back, the sensation lost among the dozen layers of clothing between them. “I’m sure Kiki won’t tell them, not until you’re ready! You asked her not to.”

“I think that just means,” Obi mutters, voice muffled by his arms and the wall he’s throwing himself over, “that she’ll just enjoy telling them more.”

“Ah...” He doesn’t need to see her to know her grimace. “Yes, that’s...probably right.”

He lets out a heavy, dramatic sigh. It helps a little. So does a bit of flailing.

“They won’t make a big deal out of it,” Miss says, changing tack. “It hardly changes anything! I’m sure they’ll just forget as soon as she tells them.”

He peeps one eye over his elbow. “That’s easy for you to say, you haven’t spent the last half an hour playing What’s That Color.”

“Well,” she wheedles, “they are scholars.”

Obi groans, loud and long, which doesn’t help; but it echoes out over the rooftops, returning back to him, which does.

“How...?”

Miss hesitates, a gloved finger pressed to her lips. He sighs, already braced for the onslaught-- how didn’t you know? how did you go so long without knowing your colors? how do you find people if you can’t even tell what hair color they have--?

“How did you notice?”

Obi lifts his head, unblinking. “What?”

“How did you notice?” Miss repeats, more firmly this time. “You’ve spent your whole life this way, haven’t you? It must have taken something really special to realize there was more than what you see.”

“Uh.” It’s nice that it’s darker here, that it’s cold. He has perfect legitimate reasons to be flushed. “Well, it was Suzu really. He mentioned that--” his teeth clamp down around his words, not letting them out without a hasty edit-- “that people think your hair’s pretty special, and I said I didn’t get why...”

Miss stiffens beside him, a statue that breathes, and he hastily adds, “Not that you aren’t special, Miss. It’s just, the red...”

“Right.” The words comes out stilted, strange. “You can’t see it. You actually...haven’t ever seen it.”

A silence settles on them like a wool blanket; not one of those nice ones at the castle, or the fleecy ones Miss stockpiles like one day the North might run out of sheep, but the itchy, coarse-woven ones of his childhood. Uncomfortable and smelling faintly of animal.

“So,” he coughs, fixing his gaze out over the city. “What did Kiki want?”

“Oh...” Miss shifts, mouth pulling into a guilty grimace. “She came to tell me that the Queen Dowager has invited me to dinner. Tomorrow night.”

His brows raise. “Well, well.”

“Don’t,” she murmurs, head giving the barest shake. “It’s not like that.”

“Are you sure?” He shouldn’t press, but if he doesn’t, no one else will. “After you told Master--”

“I told him a list of reasons why I thought I would be a better ally as a friend, and not as a...” Miss loses steam, letting her words sigh into the air. “I’d like to believe this has to do with my work with Phostyrias.”

He watches her, careful. “But do you?”

“I don’t know,” she says, which is as good as any no.

Obi’s barely stepped into the Protector’s solar when Master asks, “What color is my jacket?”

His head swivels, delivering a glare so flat carpets would be jealous. Miss Kiki only hums, shoulder lifting in a disinterested shrug. “I said I was going to tell them.”

Fair enough.

“It’s blue,” he deadpans, flopping onto the cushiest divan. He’s too long for it, his boots spilling off one arm a idling over the floor. “Apparently I can see that one just fine.”

According to Miss, at least; she’d unearthed a slip of a book from the university’s library, outlining the limits of his sight. Little Ryuu had pored over it for a day before showing up at his door, flushed faced and nervous.

Garrack always told me I had nice eyes, he’d admitted, lingering at the threshold. I was hoping you could see them.

Cross as he is about the whole thing, Obi can’t regret that. He might not have Miss’s hair, or Suzu’s coat-- thankfully-- but Ryuu’s eyes would always look true to him.

“But not red.” Master’s mouth twitches, far too entertained. “Or green.”

“I do see them,” he protests. “They just...don’t look very different to me.”

Just another shade of yellow and brown, if those books are right. Which they are, since he’d always thought so. Subtly different, like the way Suzu and Yuzuri fought over salmon, or Master and Miss Kiki would dither over chartreuse. Just enough that he’d been able to eke by on keeping his mouth shut and a fondness for black.

Still, there’s nothing worse than finding out something new about yourself this late in the game. Especially when--

“What about the curtains?” Master inquires. “Can you see those?”

--Especially when it’s so endlessly entertaining to everyone else. “I can see them,” he grumbles, sinking further into the cushions. “Just because I can’t see some colors doesn’t mean I’m blind.”

“Then what about the note?”

Obi rolls his gaze to where Sir perches at his desk. “Huh?”

“To our red-haired guest.” Sir coughs, a flush working its way up his neck. “It’s just-- you wrote that.”

“Oh, His Grace told me that one.” A lifetime ago, it seemed. “‘The red-haired girl, you’ll know her when you see her, I’m sure.’“

Master winces. Obi can admit his talent doesn’t lie with impressions, especially ones of dour old men.

“Right,” Sir presses, voice oddly tight. “But you don’t see-- I mean, how could you find a girl that looks just like everyone else?”

“Ah...” He grimaces, scrubbing at the top of his head. “Well, I just looked for the girl who didn’t belong. It--” he hesitates, suddenly aware of Master’s eyes on him-- “didn’t take very long.”

Master’s frown belongs above one of those prie-dieu, to remind penitents that forgiveness isn’t absolute. “What is that supposed to--?”

“So what does she look like?” No one could say that after a decade of dedication, Miss Kiki doesn’t know how to do her job; she deflects Master’s brewing sour mood with the ease of a professional. “What does her hair look like to you?”

“Uh.” He clears his throat, tugging at his collar. “I wasn’t lying when I said I bought my scarf to match...”

There is a stillness to the room that is too much, too pitiful. Much as he hated it, Obi would much rather be a joke than a charity case.

“Huh,” Sir grunts, gaze still fixed to his neck. “Now I wonder what we all look like to you.”

“Well, I sort of wonder what you all look like to yourselves.” Obi let a sigh float wistfully through his lips. “At least I know that me and Miss still have the same eyes.”

There’s silence again, but this one buzzes, filled with words no one dares to say.

“What?” he laughs, nervous, pulling himself upright. “Don’t we?”

Sir grimaces. “Ah, Obi...”

Miss is quiet when they walk the walls home that night, the winter stillness making the silence and heavy as any drift. Her mouth is pursed, not with anything like anger, but something closer to consideration. As if there’s words back there she’s sorting through, trying to compose a thought that just won’t come.

Well, she should know: she won’t get anywhere if she doesn’t air a few of them out to look at. “Something wrong, Miss?”

She blinks, shaken out from wherever she gone away. Her mind palace, maybe. Suzu’d told him about those once, with busts and painting and curtained alcoves. What she’d do with a place like that, he couldn’t imagine, but if anyone asked, he’d put his money on hers having apothecary drawers instead, and gardens too. The kind with half crumbled walls, ivies curled around every stone. Cluttered desks piled high with books, and one of them with curtain drawn to let its owner nap the afternoon away.

“Oh,” she breathes, finally. “No, no. Nothing’s, um, wrong. I was just...thinking.”

He lifts a knowing brow. “So something is wrong.”

“That’s not what I said,” she informs him, primly. “I was going over my meeting with Haruto, and...”

Her lips snap shut around the words, distress narrowing her eyes. “And...?”

“She didn’t know about my work,” Miss huffs, arms wrapping tight around her chest. “Or, she did, but only what Zen had told her. Which...”

Was far less than the whole of it. He’d heard that part of her argument that night, try as he might not to. “So she invited you as Zen’s ally?”

“No.” The word is colder than any he’s ever heard fall from her lips. “That I wouldn’t mind-- I’m still trying to be his ally, after all, and if she saw me as an asset...” She shook her head. “No, she wanted to meet his...paramour, even if she didn’t say as much.”

Obi grimaces.

“And even that wouldn’t be so bad if...” Miss took a deep, steeling breath. “When I came in, after all the curtsies and pleasantries, she said, your hair is just as red as he said it was.” Her knuckles are white where they wrap around her elbows. “All those years, all those letters, and the only thing he thinks to tell his mother is that my hair...”

The rest is lost in a sigh, a cloud of mist swirling off the wall.

“It must really be something,” Obi deadpans, gaze following it off the edge. “Since it makes all these people forget how smart you are.”

She’s watching him; he can feel it as she sidles up to where he stands, hands unclenching from her arms and splaying on the crenellations instead. “Obi, you really can’t...?”

Miss hesitates, falls silent. He lets her; she’s put enough words in the air to sort through, and now all she needs is time. Obi’s happy to give it to her.

Especially since there’s a rabbit down there in the dark. A small one, moving slow, hind legs churning like clockwork winding up. It’s nose digs into the snow, snuffling around, searching--

“Can you really see better?” Miss asks, startling him back to the wall. “In the dark, I mean. That book said you could.”

“Well, after the past couple days, I’m a little shaky on what’s normal.” He jerks his chin over the edge. “Can you see the rabbit down there? Right by that sapling?”

She blinks, pressing in close. “The what? It’s just...dark out there.”

“Well,” he says, grin tight on his lips. “There’s your answer.”

Miss settles back on her heels, one hand already cupping her chin. “It makes sense. Without the distraction of color, your movement tracking must be much more acute...”

Obi only half-manages to stifle a laugh. “Seems like it definitely distracts everyone else.”

Miss goes quiet; almost too quiet, enough to make his teeth sit on edge. The seconds tick by, and Obi might play at patience, but it’s not in his nature. He glances down, just from the corners of his eyes, but Miss is already watching him, eyes strangely shuttered.

“Obi,” she says, so clear his name rings in his ears. “You don’t...? My hair, it’s not...” Her mouth works, quiet, before she manages, “It’s not anything to you?”

Anything special, she means. Because that’s what he said so stupidly last night, nothing special.

She’d tied it up tonight, finagling the strange looping knots that were partial to the queen’s court, but already some of it’s worn loose, slipping from its pins. “It is,” he murmurs. “I like it.”

She huffs, unimpressed. “But you can’t see it, not really.”

“Of course I can see it,” he laughs, weary. “Maybe not the color, but that’s fine. I like it because it’s yours.”

She ducks her head, and Obi might not be good at colors, but he can see her cheeks flush in the lamplight.

“Miss.” Her gaze lifts to his, no longer shuttered, just full. “Can I ask you something?”

Her breath catches. “Anything.”

“Be straight with me,” he pleads. “We do have the same eye color right?”

“Obi!” Miss‘s laughter bubbles bright with betrayal as she hops down the stairs after him. “Obi, please--”

“Let me grieve, Miss,” he grumbles, hands shoved in his pockets. “I’ve been a real champ about the rest, but let me have this.”

“Obi!” She catches him round the wrist, mouth twitching as she turns to him. “Is it really so bad that they’re gold?”

“No,” he mutters sullenly, shoulders slumped enough that with two stairs between them, they’re nearly the same height. “It’s just...”

Her eyes flutter wide with curiosity. “Just...?”

“It’s fine enough that they’re unique.” He spits the word with more venom than it deserves. “I just I wanted this one thing in common.”

“In common?” Miss blinks. “You mean, me and...?”

Obi would lay down his life for his mistress, but even she can’t ask him to do this, to lay down his pride for her to walk on.

“Oh!” She flusters, limbs fluttering in the air between them. He’s half-tempted to turn away again, but she grabs his face and holds him steady, her cold, slender fingers caught behind his jaw. “Just-- just one moment...”

“Miss?” he wheezes. This is entirely too close, too much--

“Yes!” He breath flutters over his lips, her own parting in a celebration of teeth. “That’s it. I see it. There’s a little, right there.”

He blinks. “A little what, Miss?”

Her teeth flash around the word, “Green.”

It’s cruel to throw a starving dog a bone, but he snaps it up anyway, heart nearly clogging up his throat with hope. “D’you mean it? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Really,” she promises, her nod serious and officious as any she might give Little Ryuu. “There’s a thread, right around the middle. Green. Just like mine.”

“Oh.” His own hands raise, leather muting the feel of her skin, but-- Master always told him about the red thread that bound him and Miss together, that drew them toward their fated meeting, but this-- Obi will take this too. “Thank you, Miss.”

She smiles, eyes shining bright in the lamplight. “No, Obi, it’s my pleasure.”

Not much different between green and red to him, anyway.

#obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #my fic #ans #this request has been sitting in my box since 2017 #when i FIRST started joking about this au #and i always meant to get around to it #but obviously my last few years have been filled with some things that have perhaps kept me #from being able to do all the things I meant to 🤣#but once Anne brought this up again #I knew i had a very good excuse to finally get this thing out in the world #AND HERE IT IS #it takes place some amount of time after the current arc

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prfctethereal · 4 years ago

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imagine. | james potter

thank u, next x marauders

alexa, play imagine by ariana grande

pairing: james potter x reader

summary: your boyfriend takes you on a day of wonder and comfort

word count: 3,006

warnings: non sexual nudity ig?? just a lot of fluff

a/n: thank you so much for 50 followers! all the support from you guys is crazy. i appreciate every single like, reblog, and comment. here’s a piece that i put my heart and soul into so i hope you all love it as much as i do. - kennedy

***

“Alright darling, now remember, no peeking, ‘mkay?”

With James’ hands covering my eyes, he guided me through the halls of the deserted castle. He spoke barely above a whisper, keeping his voice down so it didn’t echo throughout the corridors.

I was a bit surprised this morning to be woken up before the sun had risen. Even yet, no birds had started their usual choir. It was early, too early. Not even Remus would wake up this early, so it was odd this morning to be woken up by a cheery looking James.

Somehow, James had found the counter jinx that normally prohibited any boy to come up to the girl’s dormitories, which I hadn’t known until I felt the lulling voice of my boyfriend singing me awake at four in the morning, the pads of his fingers tenderly brushing stray hairs away from my restful face. Soft lips brushed down onto my glabella, humming a gentle tune.

“Good morning beautiful.”

I pressed some sort of agreeing sound past my lips and moved closer to James, wrapping my arm around his torso, nuzzling my head into his stomach. Laughter escaped his mouth, cupping my cheek with his hand, trying to pull me away from him, but I put up a fight, smacking his hand away.

“I want to show you something.”

Intrigued, I opened one of my eyes incredulously, letting it adjust to my sights. It was definitely early morning, with slits of moonlight still peering through the sheer curtains of the dormitories. Everyone else in the room was still sleeping peacefully, soft snores rhythmically keeping everyone asleep.

Staring right at me was the love of my life, my one and only, my boyfriend, James Fleamont Potter. In the moonlight, his bright hazel eyes dazzled, showing the flecks of his green and blue hues. His round glasses sat awkwardly on the bridge of his nose, making it too easy for me to take them in my hands and place them over my own eyes. It was a little blurry but I could see James’ pouting playfully.

“Why would you do that? Now I can’t see your beautiful face.” A bright rouge tinted my cheeks as he said that, an impulse to bury my embarrassment following suit. Taking back his glasses, I could clearly see a smile creeping on his lips making me ask the age old question:

What’s gotten him so happy?

“I want to show you something.” James repeated, putting his hand over mine, helping me into a sitting position so I could really see what was going on.

James looked like he had been awake for a while, essence of energy flickering in his eyes. He was fully dressed in clothes that looked to be sticky to his body. His glistening body.

“Jamie, are you sweating?” I asked, placing my hand to his forehead, concerned. I wasn’t sure if it was the heat or the heat of the moment, but his face was glowing pink, and I only just noticed now his racing heartbeat.

“I’ve been up all morning working on something.” He cheeked, placing another gentle kiss on my cupid’s bow. “Now get up, I want to show you something.”

Eventually, I gave in, swinging my legs around the side of my bed. Dazed, I reached from my dressing gown to drape over my nightdress, as I wasn’t sure how chilly it would be outside of the common room. As silently as I could, I followed my doting boyfriend from my bedroom and through the sleeping portrait of the Fat Lady, leading up to where we are now.

“Can I open my eyes now?” I pleaded, a whimper leaving my throat as James pulled us around another corner. I had already accidentally trodden on James’ toes one too many times and I was itching to know where we were.

“Keep your eyes shut for me, alright?” James whispered into my ear, a chill running down my spine as I nodded compliantly. The initial heat of James’ hands left me face and I felt empty, even more when I heard his feet shuffling away. Using my hearing, I tried to figure out what he was doing, as he walked away from me then back towards me.

Was he pacing?

My thoughts were answered when I heard what sounded like a block of cinder moving, the rustle of rock rubbing together snapping me into my senses. Then, I heard the creaking of a door opening and I realised where we were: The Room of Requirement.

To some, it was a myth, an urban legend, but I knew it was real, as the marauders had planned their fair shares of pranks in that room. I smiled, wondering what James had gotten up to last night and why he was dragging me here at a ridiculous hour in the morning.

“Okay, you can open your eyes now sweetheart.” Greedily, I opened my eyes and took in the astonishing surroundings. The room had turned into an eloquent bedroom, with a blush king size bed up against the wall. In the corner was a closed off area with a sheer curtain keeping it hidden. An aroma of fresh linen and warm vanilla filled the room as I stepped further in. A vinyl player was set near the middle of the room, playing some quiet music to set the mood. Up against the player was a bunch of couches and a table, which seemed to be holding a plethora of different fruits and pastries.

I bee-lined for the bed though, diving into the blankets and duvet, sinking into the mattress, sighing in content. James followed behind, peeling off his shoes and over layer of his clothes, stripping into a more comfortable option. Together, we pulled the blankets over the bed, ready to go back to sleep.

“I’ll be right here when you wake up, my love.” James hummed, pulling me close to his side so I could snuggle further into his torso. His heart beat soothed me, calming me down enough to pull me into a deep slumber in the arms of my one true love.

***

When I woke, James was already awake, playing with the ends of my hair, mesmerised. As he noticed I was waking, he kissed my forehead lovingly, tightening his grip around me, cuddling me more.

“Do you want breakfast?” He asked, his raspy morning voice sending a flush to my cheeks. I straightened up to him, placing a kiss directly to his lips.

“Of course, but I would also like to know what all this is for too.” I questioned, palming the edge of his shirt over in my hands, my fingers brushing over his bare stomach.

“We can talk over breakfast.” Taking my hand, he hoisted both of us out of the covers and guided me over to the couches, making sure I was sitting comfortably before going into an enchanted refrigerator to bring out some food. Even though refrigerators are typically cold places, two steaming plates of waffles and berries emerged from the fridge, with a smiling man carrying them over.

Hungrily, I took a plate from my boyfriend and started cutting into the sweet food, placing a piece into my mouth and chewing slowly, watching James from the corner of my eyes, who hadn’t stopped grinning since I had woken up.

“So,” I started, swallowing my mouthful, “what’s all this for?” James cocked an eyebrow but I continued dutifully. “I mean, it’s just a random Saturday morning and you surprised me with all this, and I’m-” I couldn’t even find the words to describe how I felt at the moment. The adoration I had for my boyfriend was too much.

“NEWT season is over and I know how much you’ve been stressing over these exams. I just wanted one weekend for you to distance yourself from the real world. I wanted to do something for you, because you mean so much to me, and I love you more than I can even imagine.”

“I can imagine a lot.” I giggled, placing a sour berry on my tongue.

“Oh?” James challenged, licking his lips, a million thoughts running through his head. “What else can you imagine?”

I thought about that for a while, taking another bite out of the crisp waffle on my plate, before speaking up again. “I can imagine us taking a bubble bath together, like what we did on our first date, do you remember?”

“How could I forget? There were bubbles everywhere! I could never imagine how messy it would turn out but, oh well.”

“We can imagine it now.” I smiled, a silence settling between us as we finished off our breakfast. Taking sneaky glances at James while eating, I saw the way his eyes were moving, like his brain was working overtime. It was beautiful. He was beautiful. I’m in love with that man.

After a while, when both the plates had been cleared, James cleared his throat, speaking once again. “We don’t have to imagine anymore. Follow me.”

My eyes lit up as I traipsed behind James to the corner of the room. He peeled back the curtain to reveal a full bathtub, warm soapy water coming off of it in swirling vapours. Hues of different liquids poured into the tub in thick streams, mixing together.

It was exactly like our first date, when James and I had broken into the prefect’s bathroom and bathed in all the different baths they had. The memories that it brought back welled tears up in my eyes, my hand wiping them away before he could notice.

“After you, m’lady.” A smile crept up my face as I slowly stripped the night dress off my body, criss crossing my arms up and over my head, pulling it off. Hesitantly, I unclasped my bra and pulled down my panties, before stepping into the bath, the warmth of the water calming my nerves in a second. As I turned back around, I noticed the bars James following me in, climbing into the tub and sitting down next to me. His arm wrapped around my waist pulling me into his side, my head dropping down to his shoulder.

“You really are the most beautiful girl in the world.” His words spoke deeply to me as his hand stroked up and down my side lovingly. I felt like a princess who had just found her prince.

“And you are the most dashing person I’ve ever met.” I cheeked back, taking a handful of bubbles from the water and blowing them into James’ face. Sensing a fight coming on, James pulled his glasses off the bridge of his nose and sat them down on the edge of the bath, getting his game face ready.

“Oh, you’re on.” Is all he said before taking his own fistfull of bubbles and dropping them over my head, trickles of water running down the side of my face. Grinning menacingly, I gripped onto his shoulders, pulling him closer to my body before diving under the water, pulling his in with me. The world seemed to slow down for a moment as we stared at each other in the tinted water, holding our breaths as we waited for the next person to make their move. We didn’t wait long though as James used his strength to flip me over so he was on top of me, pulled us out of the water and pinned me to the side of the bath.

“Okay, okay, you win.” I pouted, a giggle falling from my lips as James released me from his grasp.

“What’s my prize?” A cunning grin rose on his face as I contemplated what to do. I could pull him back under the water or let him meet another ball of bubbles.

“This.” I said, pulling him close towards me, kissing him slowly on his lips. What was meant to be a short and sweet kiss turned longer and sensual as James' arms pulled me closer by my waist and my arms shot up around his neck. The kiss quickly turned passionate as James tilted my head up just a little to make me gasp, his tongue using this as an invitation to slip into my mouth.

After a few more minutes of just being with each other, we pulled away, our lungs thanking us for returning air into our systems. We were left breathless, panting as James’ hands went up to my cheeks, his thumb gently caressing my cheekbone.

“I really enjoyed that prize.” He smirked, running his fingers through my tresses of hair. I playfully splashed him with the water in the tub, swinging my legs over his lap to snuggle back into his chest. His breathing matched mine as we sat like this for a quiet moment.

“You know I love you, right?” James croaked out, a slight amount of anxiety detected in his voice. The question surprised me for a moment, catching me off guard, but I soon composed myself, looking at James directly in his doe like eyes.

“Of course, I do, love.” I sighed, running my thumb over his plump lips before leaning upwards to place one more peck at the corner of his mouth. “And I love you too. More than anything.”

“More than anything?” James laughed, his fingers falling down to my waist to tickle me gently. “More than waffles?”

“More than anything. Definitely more than waffles.” I melted in his grasp, pulling his hands off my waist and into my own hands, tugging him upwards into a standing position. “Do you know what else I can imagine?”

“Oh? What else can you imagine?”

“I can imagine us dancing around right now.”

“Whatever you can imagine can come true. Anything for you.” And with that, James bent down, kissing my knuckles like a true gentleman.

Carefully, we stepped out of the bathtub together and I took a few towels from a table and gave one to James. He rubbed the towel gently over his chest before tying it down so it hung loosely off of his hips. I patted the towel against my hot skin, feeling a bit of relief from the cold material. Once I was sufficiently dry, I tied it just above my breasts, so the towel covered my torso and most of my thighs.

I followed James out of the secluded bath area and into the open room where I found his playing with the vinyl player. When a new song started playing, he took my hand in his and placed his other hand on my waist, waiting for me to take his shoulder. As I did, I felt James immediately spin me around and dip me softly, kissing my forehead. Blushing again, I let James take control a bit, spinning me around like we were at a ball. This time, I wasn’t stepping on his toes with every moment and it felt like magic. The world seemed to have slowed down for us and we were the only two left. Nothing mattered except the man holding me right now and trying to listen out for the music so I didn’t fall on my head.

“Do you know what this song is?” James asked, spinning me in his arms once more.

“I don’t actually.” I pondered for a moment then spoke again. “It’s very lovely. What is it called?”

“It’s called Euphemia.” My eyes widened slightly as I recognised that name as the name of James’ mother. “My dad wrote it for her for their first anniversary. Whenever my mum would have a bad day, my dad would always play it through the house. One time, I was supposed to be asleep but I could hear my mum crying in the room over. So, I got up and started playing the song. She immediately stopped crying. To this day, I don’t know what she was crying about, but I do know that this song brought her joy.”

I paused before speaking again, not wanting to ruin the moment. “It’s beautiful, James. I never knew your dad wrote music.”

“It was the only song he ever wrote. He told me that when I find someone that I love, I should play it for them. So I did.” My heart leaped when James said that, a few tears dripping down my cheeks in happiness, just for James to brush them away with his fingers. Then, without thinking, I spoke again.

“Imagine if we grow old together. We could be dancing in our own living room to this song.” I didn’t realise what I had said until I saw James’ eyes light up and the biggest smile ever crept up on his face. Without being able to even register what was happening, James got down on one knee and removed the Potter family ring from his finger.

“[Y/N] [L/N], I am here to make anything you can imagine come true. This ring has been in the Potter family for generations and it’s time I give it to you, for you are going to be the next Potter. You make me the happiest man ever and it’s time you know how much you mean to me. I know there’s a war going on outside of Hogwarts, but frankly, I don’t care. I want to be with you forever, through thick and thin, through high and low. If you will let me, I can be your everything. Once we get out of school, we can buy our own little cottage in the countryside like you always wanted. We can wake up next to each other each morning like you always wanted. My darling angel, will you marry me?”

It was perfect. My head was nodding frantically before I even had time to get the words out of my mouth. All I knew was the love of my life on his knee in front of me, ready to take the next step in our lives together.

“Yes, James Potter. I will marry you.”

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #marauders #marauders era #James potter #James potter x reader #James potter x you #James potter fluff #James potter angst #james potter x y/n #james potter imagine #james potter imagines

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harryspet · 5 years ago

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sweet sister | peter parker

[Warnings] dark peter parker x innocent reader, reader is extremely innocent, manipulation, male/female masturbation, somnophilia, stepcest, hj, vaginal sex but not really?

A/N: This is based off a request I got for a innocent reader where Peter teachers her about sex. Reader is 18 and Peter is around 21. DARK THEMES SO READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

In which you’re May and Happy’s foster kid and Peter takes advantage of your innocence.

Like, reblog and let me know what you think!

word count: 2.9k

You came home from school like it was a normal day. Walking up the steps to your family’s brownstone, clad in your school uniform, and loud music blaring in your headphones, “May!” You shouted too loudly, walking down the hallway towards the kitchen, “Did my package come?”

You stopped in your tracks as you saw three figures standing in the living room. Happy, May, and … some kid you didn’t know. Your eyebrows raised in confusion at the young man standing with your foster parents.

“Y/N, this is my son Peter!” May smiled, trying not to be awkward. She approached you, urging you forward. Now you recognized him and your eyes widened because of how easily you missed it. He was in all the photos on the mantle but, now, he looked a bit older.

You were not what Peter expected, at all. By May’s description of you, he thought you might be a middle schooler. His eyes trailed over you, the way you filled out your uniform … Peter snapped out of it, moving forward to hold out his hand to you.

“Hi, I’m-” Interrupting him and surprising him at the same time, you went in for a hug. Peter hesitated for a moment before hugging you back. You noticed he had a strong grip.

“She’s a hugger,” You heard May whisper.

You pulled away and offered your hand for him to shake. He took it, smiling, but still a little confused by the long greeting, “I’m Y/N. You look just like May! I mean, you’re very pretty like her.” Happy always went on about how pretty May was and you always agreed.

You watched as his cheeks reddened. Was it something you said? ''Thank you very much, I haven’t heard that one before.”

You looked back at May who seemed to improve the interaction. You smiled, worrying that you had made him nervous, “Peter finally has a break from his busy schedule to come see us. He’ll be here with us for at least a week. May and I thought this would be a good time for you two to get to know each other.”

May had taken you in two years ago but this was the first time you were officially meeting Peter. He was always halfway around the world fighting crime and could only stop at May’s work every once and awhile. You never thought you’d ever have a full family like all the people on the television did.

“That sounds like a lot of fun,” You heard Peter say and your heart did a little backflip. Your very own big brother. “What’s this about a package?”

“Oh,” Your face fell, “Uhm, they’re just books.”

Peter gave you a look of inquiry, stuffing his hands into his pockets, “You like to read? What kind of books?”

You opened your mouth to make up some excuse but Happy interrupted you, “I put your package on your bed, sweetheart. Why don’t you show Peter his new room?” Right, you had taken Peter’s old room.

“Okay!” You perked back up, glad the subject of books was over, “Follow me, big brother!”

That was easy, Peter thought. She didn’t seem to give a second thought about accepting him which was endearing but scared Peter to a certain extent. How trusting was she exactly? May had warned him that she was a little eccentric … and a little emotional.

Peter tried to keep his focus up as he followed you up the stairs. A part of him was a little let down that you were wearing shorts beneath your plaid skirt.

“May says you have like a sixth sense. And that you can sense when danger is near. She talks about you a lot, you know? You call it a Peter tingle, right? I thought that was a really cute name but I’m not supposed to bring it up around you apparently-” You were rambling, as usual, and had passed your bedroom but you noticed that Peter wasn’t following you anymore.

“You made it pink,” You heard Peter say as he peeked into your room. He adjusted the black backpack on his shoulder and you couldn’t help but notice his muscles. He was like the boys you read about in your books but … he was technically your stepbrother.

You walked toward him, “May said I could decorate it how I wanted. Do you hate it? You hate it, don’t you? I’m really sorry. It’s just that it’s my favorite color and-”

“No way, I like it!” He quickly assured you, not wanting to see what happened when you finally ran out of air. Peter walked inside and you followed him. There was no twin bed anymore but a regular-sized bed with a white canopy.

There was a pile of stuffed animals in the corner that Peter noted, “You have a lot of stuffed animals …”

“Those are the ones they give you in family court,” You explained to him before pointing over to your bed, “I keep the ones Happy and May give me on the bed, those are my favorite.”

“I see,” You spoke so casually about being in family court that it made Peter wonder what your story was. There were at least ten stuffed animals there, “Which one’s your favorite?”

You liked that question, smiling wide, as you walked over to your bed. Peter watched you carefully as you bent over to grab a gray penguin, “I like penguins a lot. My first Christmas here, May got me this and a penguin puzzle. I’ve done it a million times now but we could put it together if you wanted.”

“I can’t imagine anything better, Y/N.”

You were going to be very fun to get to know, Peter thought.

The family had gone out to dinner that night and had been the rest of the evening putting together a hundred piece, penguin puzzle. It was one of the best days of your life and, as you expected, having a family was wonderful. Having Peter was just an extra bonus. You wished he didn’t have to leave.

The next day, as you walked down the steps that lead from your school, you didn’t expect to find Peter waiting for you. You ran up to him and hugged him, of course, and you savored the moment when his strong arms were around you. Some girls you didn’t know gasped and practically swooned as they watched you two.

“I have strict orders to take you straight home so you can start right away on your homework,” You frowned until Peter continued, “But I think we should stop for ice cream.”

You were practically bouncing with excitement as Peter grabbed your hand and lead you down the street.

At the small parlor, you licked at a cone of chocolate ice cream while Peter stuck his spoon into his ice cream sundae. Peter’s eyes wandered over to your mouth, imagining your wrap your lips around his-

“You never said what you liked to read, Y/N.”

You blushed, your nose wrinkling, as the embarrassment filled you, “It’s silly … you don’t want to hear about it.”

“I do,” Peter insisted, “I won’t tell anyone, don’t worry.”

You took a breath, “They’re … they’re romance novels. It’s a series one of my friends at school told me about. She thinks I’m too … too babyish. Apparently, there are scenes in it ... “

“Scenes like what?” You blushed even more.

“Bad scenes,” you whispered and Peter pretended to think the subject was taboo, “She wants me to learn about … dirty stuff. These guys are taking us to prom and she wants … she wants us to have our ‘first times’ together. I don’t even know what that means! But I can’t tell her that or she’ll think I’m even weirder than I already am to her.”

Buried treasure. Peter had stumbled upon pure gold.

“Y/N, you’re talking about sex?” Peter narrowed his eyes at you.

“Sex?” You spoke the word like it was completely foreign on your tongue, “I think that’s it. Sounds gross, right?”

Peter couldn’t help but chuckle, “It’s kinda gross if you think about it too deeply but it’s not meant to be gross. It’s not as scary as you think. It’s quite beautiful, actually.”

Her eyes went wide, “You’ve done it a bunch, haven’t you?”

Peter shrugged, “A few times but only with special people. If the guy who’s taking you to prom isn’t special then you definitely shouldn’t give him your first time.” Peter would have to do some research on this guy and make sure he didn’t even think about coming near her.

You looked solemnly at your melting ice cream, “I must be a total weirdo then …”

“You’re not, Y/N, trust me. Eighteen is still young.”

You leaned forward, whispering, “I haven’t even kissed anyone, Peter. People do that in middle school.”

Peter leaned forward next, entrancing you with his eyes, “Do you really want to get some experience? Because … I could help you. I’m probably better than those trashy books.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Do brothers and sisters normally talk about stuff like this?”

“Don’t you want to be friends too?” You instantly nodded, “Then I can help you out, as a brother and a friend. But if you want to read your books-”

“No, no, you can teach me!”

And you easily stepped into his trap.

That night, Peter slipped out of his room clad in his pajamas. Your door slowly creaked open and you sat up in your bed. You rubbed the tired from your eyes as Peter peaked in, “My room is freezing … and I can hear Happy snoring through the walls.”

You pulled back your comforter, patting the spot next to you, “You can sleep in here with me,” Peter entered all the way before slowly shutting the door.

“Really? I can sleep on the floor …”

You shook your head, “It’ll be like a sleepover.”

Peter moved in the darkness, climbing in beside you. You pulled the covers over him and you both lay down. Peter watched as you turned over before tiredly murmuring, “Goodnight, Peter.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

Peter waited a good hour before moving closer to you. In a slow movement, he had pressed himself against you, taking in the scent of your hair, as he admired the lines of your body. It was a risk but he touched your waist, his hands trailing over to your stomach. He felt the soft skin of your back as well before reaching into his pants.

He touched himself to the thought of you and he almost panicked as you moved. You turned to your other side, not facing him. Watching your sleeping face sent Peter over the edge and he muffled his grunts with a pillow.

He wasn’t in your bed when you awoke the next morning.

Happy had surprised May with a romantic dinner that night so Peter and you were left alone that evening. You were brushing your teeth in your jack and jill bathroom when Peter walked in suddenly. You looked over to see him only wearing a pair of basketball shorts.

You blushed, looking back at the mirror before spitting out the foam in your mouth. He stalked closer to you and you noticed something different in the look in his eyes, “I was thinking something, Y/N, about what you told me at the ice cream shop.”

You put away your toothbrush, turning off the sink before wiping your mouth with a hand towel, “I thought you had forgotten …”

Peter smirked, “Far from it, actually. I was thinking about how you said you want more experience. With kissing boys and things like that, right?”

You nodded slowly, growing nervous.

“I think the first thing you should learn is how to pleasure yourself before you learn about pleasuring someone else,” He held your hand, rubbing soothing circles into your palm.

“Pleasure?”

Peter nodded, “Sex is all about pleasure,” Peter held your hand it slowly brought it against his crotch. You felt something hard and flinched away, “It’s okay, don’t worry.”

It was such a weird feeling. Only recently had you learned that boys and girls even had different parts.

“Right here is where guys can feel pleasure,” Then Peter reached out to touch you. Through the fabric of pajama pants, you could feel his fingers brush against your folds, “This is where girl’s feel pleasure. Let me show you.”

He assured you that everything was going to be okay as he slid down your shorts. Before you could step out of them, Peter swiftly lifted you onto the counter and you yelped at the sudden movement.

He took your hand and pressed your fingers against your crotch. He tried to guide you as best as he could, standing between your spread legs, “Oh my stars …” You breathed out, savoring the foreign new feeling. You wanted to run away from it and run to it at the same time. You looked at Peter with frightened eyes as he slowly moved his hands away.

“That’s it, good girl, keep rubbing,” He praised you, loving the sight of you discovering your own body. You kept going, rubbing circles over that sensitive area through your light pink panties. You leaned back, lifting a leg on the counter, so you could get a better angle.

“Is this good Peter?”

“You’re doing great, Y/N. Doesn’t that feel good?”

You nodded, practically whimpering. You looked at Peter differently than before, you didn’t see the boy you saw before. You thought about how handsome he was and how sweet he’s been to you all week. You felt the wetness growing beneath your legs and you blushed as you look down, “Peter, I-I think I’m peeing …”

Peter gave you an amused smile, “That just means that you like it, Y/N. That you’re aroused,” Peter grabbed your hand and moved it away from your crotch. You found yourself missing the feeling and you watched as he slid off his pants and underwear. The sight of his manhood felt foreign but aroused you at the same time.

Peter slowly palmed his manhood as he leaned into you. You practically froze as his lips touched yours. He didn’t even have to speak because as he slowly left soft pecks on your lips, you started to lean back into him. Your hands touched his neck as you started to move your lips against his. You liked it … No, you loved it, “Your lips feel squishy,” You gushed and Peter laughed, turning his head as the kiss became more passionate.

You let your leg fall back over the counter and, as it did, Peter slowly slid off your underwear. Then suddenly, he lifted you. You wrapped your legs around him as he carried you into your room. He sat on your bed, leading you to straddle him.

“I want to try something,” Peter said before pecking your lips again.

You were all in.

He laid back on your bed, and you sat on his legs, “Touch my cock,” You thought the word was silly but you could tell what he meant. It felt harder than you expected and as you gripped it on your hand, a guttural moan exploded from Peter, “Spit on it.”

“Peter-”

“It’s okay, it’ll feel better that way,” He tried to assure you and you hesitated before pulling your hair back. The trail of spit fell onto his member and you felt gross for a moment until you saw his reaction.

That sound he was making you even wetter.

Peter grabbed your legs, pulling you up more until your private parts were positioned right over his, “I want you to rub yourself against me, can you do that?” Peter asked. With all his fantasies coming true, he wasn’t sure how long he’d last.

You nodded. You held onto Peter’s chest as you slowly dragged your private parts against his. His cock was pressed against his stomach and your lips moved up and down his length. You felt it then. That pleasure and his pleasure mixing. You kept going, starting to feel something building up in your core.

You bit down on your lips, liking the feeling of when his tip rubbed against your sensitive bulb. Your wetness acting as even more lubrication, you thought you were making quite the mess but Peter didn’t seem to mind.

You moved faster, Peter’s groans encouraging you and your curiosity of that thing building up inside you kept you going. Your toes curled as you got the feeling of a waterfall rushing off a cliff. Your mind went blank for a moment and your body shook as that damn finally broke.

You moaned, riding out the feeling and that's' when you felt Peter convulsing. You felt his cock twitch as white spilled from the tip of his member and onto his stomach. Peter’s head rested all the way back and you couldn’t help but smile as you realized that you had both reached your tipping points.

“Well, was that it? Did I do sex?”

“Sort of,” Peter said, completely out of breath. The eagerness in your eyes wasn’t something he expected, “You have a lot more to learn, Y/N.”

“Then can we do it again, Peter?”

Hope you enjoyed this! Feel free to check out my masterlist for more Peter fics! There is a short sequel to this!

PART TWO

#dark peter #peter parker x reader #dark peter parker #dark!peter #stepbrother #stepsister #mcu smut #marvel smut #mcu x reader #mcu #dark marvel #oneshot #peter one shot #tom holland #tom holland x reader #au #peter parker au #ariana grande

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embrassemoi · 4 years ago

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Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 17

Pairings: Sirius B, Remus L, [F]Reader Content: Language, possible errors A/N: slight head-hopping

Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 17: The Stalking Map

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January 31st, 1976 | 11:30 pm

“Move your arse over!” Lily whispered. Moments after the lights went out, she crawled out of bed, her silky nightgown dragged across the floor as she walked over to Y/N. In one hand, she held a pillow, the other, Toulouse.

Y/N giggled, scooting over. “Can't get enough of me?”

“Hush! You know what I mean,” she blushed. Lily slipped in, the bed dipped as she wiggled around, making herself comfortable. But the small size didn’t help as they were slightly cramped together, leaving little space for either girl to move. Y/N made a note to herself to charm her bed so it’d be larger.

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February 2nd, 1976 | 12:23 am

“You really shouldn’t cram studying like this.”

A candle burned brightly inside their closed curtain drapes as Y/N continued to stress over an upcoming test.

“You’re smart — but you’re lucky if you manage a troll.”

“Be anymore encouraging, will you?” Y/N muttered out sarcastically.

Lily rolled her eyes, getting up from her pretzel seated position as her hand reached out, disappearing beyond the curtain drapes. Leaning over and supporting herself by gripping the bed frame, she grabbed a coffee pot and two teacups, pouring a steaming amount into each. She handed her one, Lily’s eyes squinted, her tongue poking out in thought before beginning. “So, five birds will be ejected from the wand with a blue light…”

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February 4th, 1976 | 1:12 am

They stared at each other for a moment before Lily’s mouth twitched upwards. The silence only lasted for a few beats before they both erupted into roaring laughter so strong that they had to lean into each other to prevent themselves from rolling off the bed.

“No. You. Didn’t!” Y/N exclaimed.

“What was I supposed to do? Not punch him?!” “Precisely!”

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February 5th, 1976 | 10:59 pm

Lily danced, jumping around on her bed. Her bright hair bounced around wildly whilst Y/N held her wand, pretending it was a microphone. One earbud was in Lily’s ear, the other in hers.

‘Yes, I’ve been brokenhearted!’ They mouthed to each other, despite there being a silencing spell around Lily’s bed.

‘Blue since the day we parted,

Why? Why? Did I ever let you go?

Mamma Mia now I really know!’

Y/N took her hands, pretending to play chords as if she were in front of an actual piano, mimicking the erratic backtrack. Lily shook with laughter before she slowly sank onto the bed as her hair sprawled out.

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February 9th, 1976 | 12:17 am

“Ginger —”

“I consider that harassment and bullying. Do you know how many detentions I can give you?”

“Haha — ginger.”

“Ten points from Gryff —” “No —” “TWENTY POINTS FROM —” “I’M SORRY!”

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February 11th, 1976 | 1:37 am

“What do you wanna know?” She whispered.

Speckles of starlight slipping through the cracks of their drapes. Lily, for whatever reason, seemed restless. It always seemed like whenever it was extremely early in the morning, there was a change in Lily’s demeanour.

Lily averted her gaze, biting her bottom lip, “Tell me a secret.”

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February 12th, 1976

After almost two weeks of their almost nightly rendezvous, they’d gotten closer than they have in the past six months and it seemed like Lily knew her better than she did at times.

Lily was practically bouncing off the walls. Every day, she seemed to become more radiant, happier, bubblier and Y/N couldn’t help but wonder what caused such a spike in her mood.

The redhead wove their way out of the bustling crowd, her arm linked with Y/N’s. She’d caught a few times, Lily looking at her every now and then before she seemed to stare for a little longer than what was considered polite. She’d forced a cough, fiddling with a strand of hair with her free hand; looking everywhere — or at anything, but her.

Sometimes Y/N felt and sounded like a broken record.

Repeating her thoughts over and over again, analyzing herself and the people around her; overthinking causing loads of unanswered questions… It was a problem that she didn’t know how to switch off.

Sometimes, it’d become too overwhelming, even to the point of tears in frustration and the constant overthinking. It would start with a flicker of interest, morphing into a spiral of questions, then irritation before spreading through her veins like a wildfire, spiking with anxiousness or fury. But recently, her over-thinking wasn’t necessarily overwhelming or maddening, this time it was purely curious. It was as if she blinked an eye; suddenly Lily would be acting fine — normal to becoming strange and skittish within mere seconds.

Perhaps it was stress?

February began and the workload for the OWLs was beginning to wear down on everyone. To be dramatic, every day became a blur, all merging into one blob: wake up, head down to the hall, class, lunch, class, study — then become too overwhelmed from studying and have the urge to cry or yell, dinner, study more, then sleep. With hardly any time to retain the information and the OWLs set to start late May, Y/N’s main goal was to memorize every bit of information rather than learn what it meant; that was for another time.

Whenever the fifth or seventh years weren’t in class, they were studying in the library, the hallways, even at dinner or lunch. It was so busy that the Marauders made it a point to swing by — even Mary and Marlene were becoming frequent visitors too. Mostly, they studied, but other times it ended with Lily constantly threatening James with detention (which he already received one and lost around forty house points after starting a small fire — which nobody knew how it even happened), Peter brought baked goods but ended up spilling a cup of tea over his notes and robes; Sirius and Marlene often mucked around while Y/N and Remus begun migrating to the common room after Pince threatened to throw them all out (and honestly, they were tired with everyone else’s shit).

And it had been taking a toll on Lily. She’d lost sleep and was slightly more agitated when it came to those around her and overall seemed to become quieter than usual.

Yeah, it was probably stress, but it didn’t answer her happy mood. Whatever it was, it looked good on her.

That day, they decided to eat lunch away from the Great Hall. They sat on a nearby window ledge, watching students idly as they passed back and forth, all having their own little lives. Y/N’s back was pressed against the window, her knees bunched together as Lily guessed the lives of people around them.

Young students, old students, some smiling, some frowning. Usually, Hogwarts was almost too overbearing. The swarm of bodies clung together like magnets, hard to separate, hard to pull yourself away from because soon enough, you’ll be roped into another set of magnets. While Hogwarts had been smaller in size and population compared to Ilvermorny, you could never catch a break here.

But, in times like these, they were able to come down from the high. It was fascinating and oddly calm; the noise, the chatter, it all became background noise.

And like a magician, Remus popped out, walking towards them. Lily waved Remus down, inviting him to sit with them. Although, Peter wasn’t that far behind as he came bouncing up behind. A few people waved to him, he’d even stopped a few times to catch up with a few students that passed.

Remus took the free seat next to Y/N, Peter next to Lily.

“Bloody cold here,” Peter said, rubbing his shoulder up and down, handing each girl a muffin before Remus, but he declined, waving around a small bag of blackberries.

Lily and Peter quickly fell into a conversation while she and Remus turned to talk. His leg brushed against hers before ripping away quickly. Even with just the slightest touch, Remus was a furnace. Y/N quickly looked up to him, their eyes meeting shortly. Her eyebrow curled up at him, wondering why he was so warm; had he been sick? He didn’t look bad…

She hadn’t been spending that much time with him as of late, aside from the study groups. But he smiles broadly. There was a weariness on his face that seemed to have chased away immediately. “Noon.”

“Noon! How have you been?”

His smile turns even brighter, so much as he could rival the stars. There’s a certain playfulness in his eyes, devilishly and sly. He looks too eerily like James, but it only tells her that he’d come up with another prank recently.

“Great,” there is amusement in his voice, so smug, so confident. “Came up with a new prank idea.”

Bloody knew it, as he’d would say.

“Tell me about it.”

“Well, let’s just say that there’s going to be a lot of dungbombs, Polyjuice potions and probably explosions.”

“Explosions?!”

“You’ll see.” Again, sounding so confident and smug. It put a smile on her face. “So what about you?”

Her mind racks around for a while; nothing much has happened recently; she’s stumped.

He considers her for a moment with a soft gaze, completely understanding. “We’re planning to mix in Polyjuice potion with pumpkin juice on Valentine's day at dinner. When the person drinks it; they should turn into who they fancy.”

“So where do the explosions come in?”

Remus gives a deep chuckle, “Now I can’t give away all my secrets, can I?”

But before she could make a witty retort, perhaps even convincing him to spill his deets, Peter calls out to Remus, pointing discreetly to a girl looking at them directly from the other side of the corridor. They all recognized her from the study group, a fourth year that comes on Wednesdays. She waved over to them — well, actually just at Remus as her other hand grasped an item behind her back.

He waves over, hesitantly getting up, “I’ll be back.

This wasn’t unusual — since he ran most of the fifth year groups, Remus constantly had younger students approach him in the halls. Although, they were all starstruck; after all, he was tall, a bit scary and a part of the oh so intimidating Marauders.

Their eyes were glued to his back as they watched the interaction play out. The girl tipped back and forth on her feet, swaying as she shyly looked up to him. She went on to a small monologue before pulling out a heart-shaped box of chocolates and holding it in front of herself.

Lily sucked in a sharp breath, a hand flying to her mouth to prevent giggling to seep out and the young girl overhearing, but it was out of entertainment rather than any malicious intent. Remus, however, did not look too phased, however, gave a pitiful smile, thanking the girl for her confession but letting her down softly. Within a second, the girl’s face contorted, her eyes swelling up with thick tears as she threw the chocolate box at Remu’s chest — but missed, scattering to the ground, as she bolted down the corridor.

“Blimey,” Peter breathed out, “That’s the third one this week. He’s going to beat Sirius for Valentine’s day confessions at this rate.”

“Well this is awkward,” Remus said, coming back to the group. He had picked up the box, an uncomfortable grimace on his face as he turned it around. Y/N looked up at him; he was flustered, unsure what to do. So, she patted his shoulder, gaining his attention and slid the box out of his hands and cracked it open; they were all sorts of different chocolate, milk, white, dark, truffles, shavings, even some had coconut while others were biscuits covered in it. It was intended for Valentine's day judging by the intricate and soft velvety packaging but she assumed that poor girl simply couldn’t refrain.

Yeah, she definitely should’ve waited — or not have said anything, but at least she had nerve. It felt like Y/N lacked the so-called Gryffindor trait often, so if anything, she applauded that fourth year.

The group looked at her oddly as Y/N shrugged, plopping a piece into her mouth. “What? Expensive chocolate is still expensive chocolate.”

She took the box, stretching her hand out, offering it to the group.

“Nu-uh,” Lily blurted, her wands waved out in front of her, “There’s no way I’m eating that.”

“Why?”

“Don’t you feel bad?! And that must be bad mojo! You broke her heart; why did you take the box?”

“Surely you saw her throw it at me! You didn’t expect me to throw it back at her?”

Lily stopped her scold, suppressing another fit of giggles before letting out a very loud snort. Y/N and Peter howled together at careless, ‘improper’ lady laughs that Lily usually didn’t make. Y/N liked the change, she seemed freer.

“Well, do you fancy anyone then?” Lily retorted as she composed herself.

Remus snorted too, scooted over to Y/N as she offered him the box. He nodded, grabbing a small bite-sized chocolate piece. He rubbed at his collarbone in a sheepish manner, cracking it which made Y/N and Peter's face scrunch up. “What do you think?”

“You should go and date around. Honestly, you have all these women at your feet and you’ve never gone on one.” Peter added.

“Yes, yes!” Lily urged, “Listen to him!”

“You guys care more about this than I do.”

If James and Sirius were the most popular students, James being goofy while Sirius was a playboy, and Peter had the most friends, Remus was definitely the most well-liked Marauder and the one with the coolest reputation; something that James was certainly jealous of. But the fact that he seemed oblivious to it, Y/N found hilarious and humbling, very unlike his friends.

His head shook. “Well then, what about you two. Do you fancy anyone?”

They both went red immediately. Peter bit the inside of his cheek before Y/N shoved the tray of chocolates his way; he grabbed a handful, eating them in complete silence. Lily, well, she went completely still, almost as if Remus had shot a spell at her. She coughed, looking away uncomfortably as a nervous chuckle embedded its way out.

Y/N’s eyes widened and she and Remus immediately whipped their heads to look at each other. Their mouths gaped, closing and opening like goldfish. Both of their minds reeled, thinking about the same thing. Remus snapped his head back to Lily, his finger pointing at her. “Godric! You do!”

“I-I do not! I don’t fancy anyone!”

“Spill! What’s he like?” Remus asked. They kept probing her for questions, in hope of an answer but she wouldn’t budge.

“Is it Potter?!” Peter asked, his happy mood dimming but he forced a chipperly grin.

Remus was choking on air itself, “You’re taking the piss!”

They all looked at her in burning anticipation. If it was true, James was going to have a field day. Lily’s eyes widened, reaching over to grab the lid of the chocolate box and wacked Peter with it.

They were a mess of giggles, particularly Remus and Y/N who watched Lily berate Peter for the sheer mention of James. They basked in the safe feeling of the sunlight on their skin, the warmth spreading through them and rivalled the bitter chill.

As more laughter erupted, memories created, chocolate eaten, the bell eventually rang. Lily parted off with Marlene and Peter, both in the small class, as Y/N joined Remus.

“You think it’s Potter? Can’t be, can it?”

“I think he’d cry if it was.”

“Truly, he’d go mental.”

“Or maybe Lily’s gone mad.”

Remus shrugged, a smirk tugged at his lips, “Perfect match then.”

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Y/N slumped over her textbooks, watching as Bowie the Bowtruckle climbed into her hand. She hardly paid attention to what Kettleburn droned about.

“Alright! My pupils, listen up; next week, we’re starting a group project for the OWLs. But, I will be the one assigning the partners — oh don’t give me those faces! I have picked your partner based on grades and strengths. Ultimately you will both work together on hatching a Puffskein and care for it. It will be ongoing alongside the rest of your OWL studies and other projects I will assign.

“You will be graded on the overall health and happiness of your Puffskeins. We have gone over their care for a while and I think we’re ready to start. Remember to refer back to your books and do not hesitate to ask me. I have all your equipment ready to go next week.”

Kettleburn coughed, unfurling a piece of parchment with what the class assumed was a list of names.

“To start, Dorcas Meadowes and Lucinda Talkalot —”

Great.

Kettleburn continued to list name after name. Y/N brought a finger to Bowie, letting him touch her gently.

“ — Crabble and Evan Rosier.

“Amita Patil and Edmud Brown.

“Sirius Black and Y/N L/N.

“Susan Chang and Agnes —”

Wait.

Her eyes widened, sharply turning to Sirius who already stared back. Both of their mouths were agape. She hadn’t heard wrong.

“Now, don't ask me to change partners. I will do no such thing. We'll talk more about this next week. Class is dismissed — don’t forget about your paper due on Tuesday!”

Y/N watched as the class got up from their seats, her shoulders slumped dejectedly. Quickly, she stood, walking to the door and pushed the assignment quickly out of her head. But once reaching the door, a Slytherin knocked into her. His hands were pushed out, causing her books and notes to sprawl over the floor as he scoffed down.

“Sorry,” she groans out, “I didn’t mean —”

“Watch where you’re going, stupid Muggle.” With a sharp turn, Crabble walked away with a nasty smile.

Sirius had seen the entire ordeal go down, finding himself stuck at a crossroad; it took all the effort in the world to prevent himself from walking straight up to the boy, hexing him beyond belief, but casting a glance at her, struggling to process what just happened caused him to reassess his thoughts. Instead, he took a deep inhale, noting to himself to take care of that later, and strode towards her, dropping down as he picked up her books, shoving them neatly into her bag while collecting any loose sheet of parchment.

“You okay?” He asked with a voice so gentle it could have been mistaken for a whisper. He turned his head upwards to look at her.

Her eyes were foggy, a faraway look in them, completely in shock.

Sirius wasn’t sure what compelled him to, but his hand reached over, picking up her hand delicately in reassurance. His thumb stroked over her soft skin and helped to pull her to her feet.

The touch broke Y/N out of her daze; the physical contact caused both students to have a fuzzy, odd feeling settling at the pit of their stomachs.

His touch was so soft, so gentle despite his eyes brimming with rage that almost seemed feral.

But, she hardly noticed it as she nodded weakly, jaw clenched. Her mind reeled, attempting to process her emotions — completely baffled and shocked. It was so sudden she felt like she hadn’t had time to digest the situation. Muggle… the Slytherin used it in such a derogatory manner. A word meant to simply describe her sounded bitter — disgusting and low.

Sirius pulled back quickly, the hand flying straight up to his hair. A thought passed through his head, he wanted to reach out again, but he squashed it for more important manners.

“Are you okay?” He repeated.

“Why are you helping me?” She blurted out before she could stop herself. It was the only coherent thought she had at the moment. Sirius out of all people should be laughing at her, shouldn’t he? Being a Pureblood and all…

The comment and the way her eyes judged him quickly told him all he needed to know. A panged sigh went through him.

“Look,” Sirius grew stiff, “I —” he paused, “I may not particularly like you, but I don’t like blood purist arseholes who push women more.”

With another once over, Sirius checked for any scratches or injuries before calming down. “I can take you to the Hospital Wing. It was a nasty fall.”

She shook her head again. The last thing she wanted was for them to get along only out of pity. Sirius understood, handing over her bag and walked away. She watched as his hand clutched the straps of his bag; his grip was so tight that his knuckles were white. His other hand, the one that he touched her with, flexed several times before curling into a fist.

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Currently, she sat by the window ledge in the common room, writing a letter to her mother. Although, her mother hadn't responded to her letters since December. In fact, her mother had only responded to two of her letters throughout her stay; about six months. It made Y/N bitterly press her lips into a thin line. For once, it’d feel nice for her own mother to prioritize her, to make her feel more important than her work.

Blood-red silk curtains nearly swallowed her whole, letting in the little light from the stars outside. The fireplace and chandelier were lit and she could scarcely make out the familiar figure of messy hair, two tufts sticking out like always, swinging an arm over her shoulders. He whined, “Oi! Evans has been stealing you! I feel like I’ve hardly talked to you the past week!”

“Jealous much?”

“Of course,” he said sarcastically, “Anyway, I, the James Potter, your best friend —" "Right." "— am inviting you on a prank. In or out?”

“In,” she said without hesitation. After the Muggle situation, she would do anything to get it out of her head, even for just a few hours. She immediately got up from her seat, walking out the portrait hole. James threw his invisibility cloak over them.

“What are we doing? Is it Remus’ prank we’re doing now?”

James turned to her, his eyebrows deep in confusion. “He told you about that? He hardly tells us before the day of the execution. Anyway, anything you want.”

“Anything I want? What about your boy band?”

He looked over to her in confusion, sliding out a small bag filled with both of their favourite snacks, tossing it to her. “Not coming, just us. Although Remus is on patrol tonight and his mini-gift to you — or er — us, he’s making sure that the Gryffindor and Slytherin floors are cleared from teachers. Should go off without a hitch. So, I’ll ask you again, what do you have in mind?”

“Pranking the Slytherins,” she said without a pause which caused James to grin.

“Atta girl! Learning from the best!”

The prank itself was small in comparison to the prank she helped with on Halloween. Y/N decided on having the prank in the Great Hall for everyone to see. James produced about a dozen dungbombs from his bag, setting it under the Slytherin table and placing a timer on it, ready to be set off in the morning.

But she insisted on the one Slytherin from earlier. Crabble, was it? She asked James to help her give him a little bit more misery than the others. They placed a dozen hexes and jinxes on his usual seat: hair lost jinx, jelly legs, horn tongue hex, Engorgio, twitchy ears, bedazzling hex —

Right now was not the time for Y/N to forgive and forget — revenge was beautiful, fulfilling; she couldn’t wait.

But, their only downfall was that they weren’t on the floors Remus had cleared out for them. So when Mrs. Norris came up to them, only to dash out of the hall, it caused the two pranksters to finalize their escapade before James grabbed her hand and fled the scene.

They ran throughout the empty corridors as the clicking of their shoes echoed throughout the corridor. They were both laughing, smiling brightly. They ran past the Bloody Baron and Nearly Headless Nick, woke up most of the portraits before they heard the vague sound of Filch’s screaming.

“COME BACK HERE!”

“YOU’RE GONNA HAVE TO CATCH US!” Y/N shouted, which had James snickering.

He whipped his head around and placed two hands around his mouth to make his statement louder, “YOU MUST BE LOOKING FOR A GALLEON, EH?! RENT BOY!”

After an abundance of sharp twists and turns, passing by countless hallways and secret tunnels, James seized a blank piece of parchment from his back pocket. He muttered a few words, opening it and ran down another set of corridors, through a tunnel and outside of the castle.

“What are you doing?!”

“Just trust me!”

There wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation: Y/N had grown to trust James a long time ago.

They ducked under an overhead from the castle, far away from Filch. Their ragged breaths filled the air before Y/N snatched the parchment from James’ grasp. “What is this?”

A panicked look flashes through James before he reaches over, trying to pry it from her grasp.

“Nu-uh!” She waved in front of her.

He sighed, realizing that he wasn’t going to get it back and that lying was the worst possible option. “You can’t tell anyone — my chaps will have my head if you do —”

“Who do you think I am?! Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course,” he rolled his eyes at her guilt tripping, “It’s a map we all created — er — Moony was the one to create it. He came up with it and did most of the work. Anyway, it tells us where everything and everyone is at every minute of the day.”

On the front, it read in maroon colours of the boy’s code names, Moony at the very front.

Moony — Remus… always a surprise.

James opened it, flicking it open as he pointed to a pair of animated footprints sprinted around the page hurriedly; Filch's name appearing overhead. His name travelled across the paper at a fast pace, running and zigzagging down the halls in the opposite direction. And by the looks of it, Peeves was following him. Above, they could see Remus’ name close to where they used to be, his name moving quickly in what both assumed was him trying to look for them. He must’ve heard the screaming.

It truly was amazing their little map. She marvelled at the classrooms, every hallway, every inch of ground that covered the surrounding area. Passageways, hallways, doors and abandoned classrooms were all there. Although, a few areas were missing. She noticed how the little nook underneath the tapestry nor a large plot of land close to the left-wing of the castle had yet to be mapped out.

“I proudly present the Marauder’s map.” James boasts.

Her face scrunched up, “You mean the stalking map — perv.”

James faked an offended expression, a hand came to clutch his heart. “I was raised to be a gentleman!”

“Sure thing.”

He was about to make another joke before his face slowly fell upon realization, “Wait, really? Is that why Lily doesn’t like me?” He tugged down on his hair in distress, his eyes looking as if they were to pop out any second. “Do women think I’m perving around?!”

Y/N chortled, prying the map from his hands and slipped back into the castle while having a panicked James follow, completely freaking out in the background, spurting out concern after concern.

She followed the map, walking over to Remus who stood underneath a large painting. He escorted them back to the common room to prevent them from getting any possible detentions and not needing the invisibility cloak. But James continued to babble on about his (alleged and false) creepy behaviour, his emotions spiking while Remus watched the two.

“Okay,” he sighed, observing James have a meltdown as he clung to Y/N’s arm, spewing apologies if he had ever crossed a line. “What did you do? You broke him.”

"Nothing.”

He didn’t question it but his nostrils flared as he attempted to press his lips in a thin line, his face going as red as Lily’s hair.

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detectivejigsawpines · 4 years ago

Text

Just a Normal Day

A short drabble about sea grunks having an average adventure, written in honor of their birthday.

Even before they got attacked by the Cthulhu beast, it had been a pretty average morning on the sea for the Pines twins.

Wake up at the crack of dawn (Ford) or closer to late morning (Stan); eat breakfast; reset the spell to ward off the vengeful leprechauns who might still be after them for stealing their treasure in case they’d figured out they were chasing a decoy trail by now; do a little late morning fishing, while keeping an eye out for that golden fish Stan was sure he’d seen swimming under their boat last week, and which he was hoping laid golden fish eggs or something; finally notice what time it was (Stan) and head inside to make lunch.

Just another normal day.

Stan was examining their supplies, trying to decide if it was worth breaking out some of the canned hamburger meat and throwing together sloppy Joes instead of making them eat fish again, when he was knocked skiwampus by the boat being yanked to a halt; as he struggled to regain his balance by grabbing onto the table, a vicious, blood-curdling roar came rumbling through the air from outside.

Stan sighed, and wondered if the kraken was back. In one swift motion he grabbed the spare harpoon they had hanging over the door, and stepped out to see if Ford needed help dealing with it.

It wasn’t the kraken.

It still looked like some kinda big octopus monster, though, with a mass of writhing tentacles where its face should be, and a bulbous head in the back just like an octopus body. The rest of it, at least as far as the torso, was kinda like a human’s but a little bigger (about the size of a baby whale), with slimy-looking green-brown skin and a pair of big, wrinkled, wet wings sticking out of its back. Whatever this thing was, it had grabbed onto the back of their boat, and was looming menacingly over Ford as Stan stepped outside.

“...and you are now my prisoners!” he bellowed, as his piercing golden eyes landed on Stan. “Surrender your weapons now, puny mortals, and I might be merciful!!!!”

“Yeesh, did we trespass on his territory or something?” Stan asked, leaning on the harpoon.

Ford shrugged with one shoulder, since he was trying to write in his journal at the same time. “He didn’t really say; he just jumped onboard and started threatening me.”

“Huh.” Stan looked up at the beast. “You the lord of this part of the ocean or whatever?”

The beast blinked-which looked pretty weird, his eyelids went sideways instead of up and down like humans-before nodding vigorously. “Yes! I am the lord of this part of the ocean, and you must surrender to me now, or else suffer my wrath!!!!” He slammed a fist down against the side of the boat, making it rock up and down so hard he had to scrabble to keep his balance. Stan coughed into his fist to hold back a snicker.

Ford tilted his head. “I could have sworn this was still the primary territory of the Manatee-Merfolk Alliance. Are you sure you haven’t made some kind of mistake?”

“What part of prisoners did you not understand?!” the beast demanded, spreading out his wings and shaking them as his tentacles writhed angrily. “Give up your weapons, now-all of them!!!!”

“...You sure you want that? It’s kind of gonna take awhile-”

“NOW, or I crush your boat in my mighty fist!!!!”

Stan glanced at Ford, who rolled his eyes and nodded. With a small sigh, they began disarming themselves.

********

...A minute passed and they were still at it.

Ford’s pile of weapons was almost as tall as he was, mostly consisting of long-range weapons like guns, but with a few vials of poisons and some handcuffs thrown into the mix.

Stan’s pile was more proportionate, but the number of places that weapons were produced from (including a smoke bomb that he’d somehow managed to keep tucked under his beanie) was frighteningly impressive.

The monster watched their progress with increasingly wide eyes; finally, as Stan produced another set of brass knuckles out of a secret pocket sewn onto the inside of his coat, he spluttered, “...Where were you keeping those?”

Stan just grinned shamelessly. “Trust me, sunshine, you don’t wanna know.”

“Okay, I think that’s everything,” Ford said at last, indicating the pile of weaponry.

“Yeah, well, I’m still workin’, gimme a minute.” Stan produced a switchblade, and tossed it onto his pile. Then, in a brief sleight of hand, he snatched another one from the pile and pretended to draw it out of his coat to toss it on next. “Hey, tentacles-face-ya think you could bring us back by Wednesday? We got a Zoom appointment ta keep, and our niece and nephew hate it when we’re late.” Another sleight of hand allowed him to scoop up another weapon.

“That’s not how this-now see here!” The monster drew himself up to his full height, nearly falling backwards off the boat. “You guys-you puny mortals are my prisoners! And as such, you need to understand that this is not a joking matter! I could squash you both like sea slugs if I wished! I’m all-powerful, an eons-old abomination whose very name would send you into madness if spoken aloud! So you better start quaking in fear and begging for mercy like proper captives!!!!”

Stan looked at Ford. “Sounds like we’re his first.” He looked back at the monster. “You’re doin’ great, buddy-good job on the whole threatening schtick.” He offered a thumbs-up, while using the other hand to snag another weapon that he pretended to produce from another hiding spot.

Ford winked at him, and looked back at their ‘captor.’ “Is this some sort of coming-of-age ritual for your species?” He produced his journal again, pen poised. “Very clever move, by the way, threatening our boat to get us to disarm ourselves. In the future, though, I would suggest that you try taking one of us hostage first, in order to create maximum-”

“STOP IT!”

The monster abruptly started pounding his fists against the side of the boat, nearly tipping it over before instead pitching him all the way onto the deck. “YOU’RE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE THIS! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO-I’M YOUR-IT’S NOT FAIR-!”

It took Stan a moment to realize that the angry noises leaving his mouth (?) were accompanied by the sound of frustrated sobs.

He hissed through his teeth, and shot Ford a guilty look.

“...Oh boy. Looks like we got a little one here.”

********

Stan crossed the boat and crouched down in front of the weeping monster, putting a hand on his back and rubbing the spot right between his wings.

“Deep breaths, in and out. You’re not gonna get anything done like this, so just take a bit ta calm down, okay?”

The monster hiccuped and coughed, shrinking in on himself in a way that was painfully familiar to both of them.

Ford knelt down at his other side. “Maybe if you tell us why this is so important to you, we can provide some assistance?”

The monster shook his head and buried his head in his arms. “I just wanted-hic-to show my friends I could catch the Pines twins all by myself,” he croaked.

The two old men looked at each other in a mixture of surprise and slight alarm. “...You know who we are?”

That was finally enough to get him to sit up, wiping his eyes with his tentacles. “You kidding? Every creature of the seas knows who you are! You’re the guys who beat up krakens and steal gold from leprechauns and then you and your boat vanish without a trace! You’re the coolest cryptids ever!”

It took both of them a moment to digest that. By the time they did, though, they were grinning in equal delight.

“We’re cryptids?!” Ford asked, eyes practically brimming over with overjoyed tears.

“Yeah! And people at school were sayin’ you’re just a myth, but I knew you were real cuz my uncle saw your ship up in the Arctic last winter, and I was gonna capture you and bring you to class to show everyone how wrong they were and then I’d be famous and they’d stop calling me a weird runt all the time!” After a second his wings drooped, and he stared miserably down at the deck. “...Guess it was pretty dumb of me to think I could catch you all by myself.”

Stan put a hand on his shoulder. “...Kid...as much as we wanna help, we can’t just be your prisoners. We got our own lives ta get back to.”

“Plus, neither of us is able to breathe underwater,” Ford added.

The monster sighed, and pulled a strip of kelp from around his neck, turning one of the leaves until it was facing him. He squirted a stream of black ink from one of his tentacles, and dipped the tip of another one into the ink and used it to trace something that looked like a bunch of gobbledygook to Stan onto the leaf. “Humans...don’t...breathe...underwater.”

Awww...he’s a super nerd, just like Ford and Dipper!

That gave Stan an idea.

“Hey.” He nudged the monster. “What about a picture of us instead? Along with genuine proof of a close encounter?”

The monster’s head jerked up. “A picture?! Like with one of those weird magic boxes you humans carry around sometimes?!”

“That’s the one.” Stan grinned. He looked at Ford and jerked his head towards the cabin; his brother took the hint and headed for it, returning with an antique Polaroid camera that Ford had been experimenting on, but still took good pictures.

The monster’s tentacles began writhing around his face like they’d come to life, and he let out a high-pitched squeal of excitement.

“This is the greatest day of my life!!!!”

********

It took a bit of staging and directing and trying out different angles, but eventually they produced a set of photos that appeared to be of an eldritch abomination in training being attacked by, and bravely fighting off, the ferocious monster hunter Pines twins (hopefully nobody would think to ask how and why the monster had managed to get these pictures taken).

Then, while Stan took them into the cabin and soaked them in a special substance Ford had invented that would render them waterproof, Ford sat on the prow next to the young cryptid enthusiast and offered tips on future hunting adventures, comparing notes with him on some of the creatures they’d both seen. He also (with permission) took a few samples from the monster, including a long strip of skin (“Make it look like a wound I got in the fight! Man, this is gonna be so cool, Yog-Sothoth is gonna eat his heart out! Possibly literally!”) and some of the ink from his tentacles.

When Stan came back with the photos, he also handed over one of his spare brass knuckles that had lost a corner. “Have another souvenir, kid.”

The monster’s tentacles lashed out and wrapped around their faces in what felt like a really weird version of a hug before pulling away, leaving them covered in some of the slimy stuff they were coated in.

“Thank you so much! I really really hope the leprechauns don’t catch you-if they come this way I’ll make sure to eat some of them so they won’t!” He waved at them joyfully as he dived back into the ocean and disappeared.

********

After a moment Stan wiped his face on his coat sleeve.

“...Well, that happened.”

He turned away and began gathering up his weapons.

“Such a strange mixture of childlike innocence and barbarity,” Ford mused as he pulled out a jar and gathered the slime into it for yet another sample. “His culture must be fascinating-I almost wish he would have taken us with him so I could have seen it.”

“You would’ve drowned before you could gather any data.”

“...You don’t know that.”

“He literally didn’t know that humans can’t breathe underwater, Sixer. Not gonna happen.”

He ignored Ford’s sulking and kept cleaning, while musing to himself over the possible monetary opportunities being a couple of cryptids could bring...

#gravity falls #sea grunks #stan pines #ford pines #cthulhu doesn't stand a chance #stan just adopting everyone #humor #and fluff (sort of)#drabble ish

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saeyoungchoismaid · 5 years ago

Text

#28 w/ Mammon

Pairing: Mammon x f!reader Genre: smut Warnings: dirty talk, public sex Summary: (Y/n) goes to the mall with Asmo and Mammon, causing the latter to get just a little jealous Prompt #28: “Did you two just have sex?”

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

You were supposed to go to the mall with the brothers, get some new clothes (since you don’t have like any), and then go home to have a fashion show with Asmo and whoever else wanted to join.

That’s what was supposed to happen.

So, how did you end up here, in the changing room with Mammon, having him plow your brains out?

Well, it’s very, very easy to explain how you got up to this point but not the actual point that you’re at now.

Mammon and you aren’t dating. Let’s get that out in the open now. You’re at that weird stage where it’s obvious you like each other but neither of you says anything. We see how that went when you first got to the Devildom.

The man always wanted your attention, didn’t like it when someone else had it and would go off on anyone who looked at you for too long. You were oblivious though, seeing as how you never really put together that he likes you.

He probably didn’t even realize himself.

When Asmo offered to take you to the mall, you instantly agreed and went to go get ready. Mammon, being the over thinker he is, started playing his favorite game. The ‘What if’ game.

You agreed a little too quickly. Do you like Asmo? Would you have said yes if he would’ve asked you instead? Can he go with you two? Do you see this as a date? What if Asmo tries to make you try on something skimpy? What if you actually buy something skimpy? What if Asmo wants to see you try on some underwear?

That last one did it for him.

“I wanna go too!” he demands, causing Asmo to raise a brow.

“What? Why? You always say no to go shopping with me,” Asmo responds, squinting his eyes at him in suspicion. He then clicks it together, an evil smile coming to his face.

“Ah, I see. In that case, no,” he teases, trotting off towards your room. Mammon gapes at him, scoffing and quickly following after him.

“No? What do you mean no? You can’t say no to your older brother! I’m coming with you guys!” Mammon shouts, letting anyone close hear his mini tantrum.

Asmo tries not to laugh, prancing happily over to your room. Before he can knock though, you’re opening up the door. You smile at him, your smile growing at the sight of Mammon.

“Hi, Mammon. Are you going to the mall with us?” you say softly, becoming shy in his presence. Mammon’s demand to go to the mall suddenly evaporates, his gaze trying to stay away from your bare legs in those shorts.

“I, um, yes. If that’s okay?” he replies just as softly. Asmo watches you two, rolling his eyes and silently gagging himself. He then clears his throat and puts his hand on your lower back, leading you out of your room and down the hall.

“Yes, he’s coming with us. He actually was just dema-”

“Ahem! So, which mall are we going to?” Mammon quickly cuts in, slyly smacking Asmo’s arm that was connected to the hand on your back.

Asmo gives him a glare before brushing it off, removing his hand from you. When you three reach the car, Mammon calls shotgun. As if he’s going to let his brother have the opportunity to place his hand on you while driving.

You simply shrug and get into the back, Asmo letting out a heavy sigh as he gets behind the wheel. The car is silent other than for the light music coming from the radio.

Luckily for the tense brother and annoyed brother, you start to get chatty when you reach the mall. You can’t help yourself, you’re so excited.

You all stick together and go from store to store, buying a few items here and there. You have to stop Mammon from buying basically everything he sees. What you don’t know though is that he’s secretly buying you things. How can he not though?

This shirt looks like something you’d like. This necklace has your birthstone color. This ring has a stone that would go with your eyes. This perfume would smell heavenly on you. He just keeps seeing stuff that he thinks you would like or things he’d like to see on you.

The trio continues to go around to a bunch of stores, ending up with at least two bags for each of you. Towards the end of your journey, you clear your throat to grab their attention. “I, um, need to stop by one more store,” you mumble, a blush dusting your cheeks.

Mammon raises a brow, trying to think of what store they haven’t gone to yet that you’d need to stop by. Asmo is a step ahead of him, a smirk coming to his face. “Yes, of course, hun. I actually have another store I need to stop by as well,” he singsongs while linking your arms together and leading you towards your next stop.

Mammon doesn’t like the feelings bubbling up inside him. First, he calls you some stupid pet name. Second, he’s touching you again. Third, he’s been pissing him off all day and he just wants him to go away.

He stops in his tracks when you all reach the store, his heart jumping out of his chest for a moment. His eyes flash from the lingerie, to the bras, to the panties, to the mannequins wearing all of the above.

He quickly rushes over to you, seeing you look at a sign that explains the sale they have going on. He wants to say something, anything really, but he can’t get the words out. He watches your eyes look over the panties, too shy with the boys here to sift through them for ones you like.

“Ooh, (Y/n)! How about these?” Asmo squeals, holding up a thong. Your blush comes right back, your head shaking.

“I don’t like the color,” you squeak.

Mammon goes right back to playing his favorite questioning game. Do you want them to leave? Are you uncomfortable? Do you even wear thongs? Do you actually not like the color?

Asmo continues to ‘help’ you look for new panties, your blush getting worse with each one. Eventually, though, he sees you sigh and start to dig through the piles of undies. Guess you figured out that Asmo won’t be leaving and there’s no way that Mammon would leave you two alone in such a store.

Well, he wouldn’t leave you two alone in general.

Eventually, Asmo holds up a yellow pair of undies, this pair being a reasonable suggestion. You look over them and raise a brow, studying them for a long moment before nodding your head. “Yeah, those are cute,” you reply, holding your hand out for the undies.

Asmo smiles brightly, giggling as he hands them to you. “Are you going to try them on?” he asks, watching you feel the material. You shake your head, going back to your search for more.

“There’s no need. As long as it’s my size, they’ll be fine,” you reply, moving to another area with more panties to offer. He nods his head glumly with a pout, starting to open drawers in search of more.

“What a shame,” he whispers to himself. Mammon almost growls. He needs to get ahold of himself before he chokes Asmo out, and not in a way that he likes. Mammon takes a deep breath and walks over to you, wondering if he should help or if Asmo is just making you uncomfortable.

“Do you, um, want help?” he basically squeaks out next to you, causing your face to heat tenfold.

“Oh, uh, sure,” you squeak right back, feeling both embarrassed and, weirdly, turned on. He nods his head and starts to look for underwear, avoiding going to the scandalous ones. Eventually, he finds a white pair with cute black accents.

“What about these?” he asks softly, offering them to you. You could hate them for all you care but if he likes them enough to show them to you, you’d buy them even if they are the wrong size.

“I like those,” you say honestly, gently taking them from him. He smiles at that, his normal self returning a bit.

“Well, of course, you like them. I picked them out,” he brags, making you giggle softly.

“True,” you admit, looking away from him to go back to your search. You three look for underwear until you find five that you like. You hold all of them in your hand before looking over at the bras.

“Want to help me find a bra?” you ask as you make your way to the bra area. You only offer because you know that Asmo will help anyway and if he helps, Mammon will want to help. Mammon always wants to help you.

“Don’t have to ask me twice,” Asmo singsongs, going ahead of you to start his search early. He shows you lacy and pushup ones, a smirk on his face each time.

Eventually, you tell him what you’re looking for. “No one is going to see it. So, I might as well get a cheaper one that his plain.” Asmo smirks and sidles up next to you to tease you some more.

“Do you want someone to see them?” he whispers seductively, making your eyes widen. And just like that, Mammon can’t take it anymore. He snatches something off a rack and grabs your arm, pulling you away from Asmo.

“Look at this one, (Y/n). This looks like something you’d like. It doesn’t have a size on it though. Better go try it on,” he rushes out, dragging you towards the changing rooms.

You barely have time to blink before you’re pulled into the dressing room area. Just as you get there, a woman is coming out of one of the changing rooms. With the worker’s back to you both, he quickly pushes you inside before shutting the door behind you both.

You gape up at him, completely confused. Doesn’t he want you to try something on? Why is he in here with you?

The white-haired male lets out a sigh, leaning against the wall and mumbling things to himself. “God, I want to kill him,” you barely catch. You raise a brow, stepping closer to him, not that he’s far away since the changing room is kind of small.

“Mammon?” you call once, saying it a second time when he doesn’t react. Once his eyes meet yours, his eyes widen.

“Oh! Sorry! I was just so excited to have you try this on tha-” The rest of his sentence dies in his throat when he sees what’s in his hands. It was ten times worse than anything that Asmo suggested you get.

On the hanger is a short, see-through robe with black accents. Under the robe is a black, lacy, lingerie set with white accents. He chokes repeatedly each time he tries to speak, words completely failing him.

You look from the lingerie to his face, biting your lip. As you thought before, anything he’d like you’d buy without question. “Yeah, it’s...sexy,” you whisper, because one, you don’t want to be caught and two, the mood calls for whispering.

You gently take the hook from him, hanging it up on a notch sticking out of the wall. You then start to take off our shoes, his eyes widening and his hands flying out.

“Woah! Wait! Hey! Y-” he starts to shout before you quickly clamp your hand over his mouth.

“Shh, you don’t want us to get caught, do you?” you whisper, your voice taking on a sultry tone. Mammon’s pretty sure he just came in his boxers. You slowly take your hand away and grab your shorts, sliding them down your legs.

Mammon gulps, trying not to look at you. He considered himself both lucky and unlucky that your shirt is long enough to hide the underwear you’re wearing. His breath catches when you gently grab his chin, turning his face back to you.

He takes a deep, shaky breath as he watches you take off your top. And, good god, if he thought he came before, he definitely is now. Your panties and bra aren’t matching but he could care less. Your panties are a plain burgundy and your bra is black with swirly designs.

You’re beautiful.

He already knew that but now, standing before him in your underwear, you’re even more beautiful. Your body is beautiful.

He doesn’t even notice that he’s gotten hard. Well, he’s quick to figure it out when you slowly lean forward to connect your lips, your hand gently resting over his hard-on.

And, oh lord, he just let out the most desperate sound he’s ever heard. You pull away with a giggle, continuing to rub him through his pants. His blush goes all the way up to his ears, mentally begging god or whoever to strike him dead now. He can’t believe how uncool he’s being right now.

You lean back in and kiss him once more, causing all wishes of death to vanish. You lightly squeeze him, making him moan into your mouth. You suddenly pull your hand away, his brows furrowing. He wants to pull back and open his eyes to see why but your lips felt so soft.

He’s a weak man.

He hums when you grab his hands, a slight smile coming to his lips. His somewhat calm demeanor disappears in a second flat when you press his hands to your bare skin. Your naked chest. Your exposed breasts. Your unclothed bosoms. Your nude tatas. Your au naturel titties. Sorry, he’s panicking.

Hold on. When did you take your bra off? Wait, is that what you were doing when you pulled your hand away earlier? What is h-

He can’t continue with all the questions since you seem to sense his confusion, your hands resting over his. You then make his hands squeeze your breasts, a soft sigh leaving you.

Mammon decides then to get with the program, squeezing and playing with your breasts all on his own. He’s now determined to get as many noises out of you as possible. He slips his tongue into your mouth as he pinches your nipples, making you whine into his mouth.

Neither of you really expected this to happen. You made it happen but that still doesn’t mean you were even remotely prepared for it.

You hum when he trails the kiss down to your neck, kissing around to find your sweet spot. You almost let out a moan when he finds it, quickly covering your mouth. He smirks against your skin, pinching your nipples again.

Before either of you can do anything else, there’s a knock on the door. “Anyone in here?” Both of you jump out of your skin when you hear the dressing room worker.

“Yes!” you quickly rush out before she can use her key to unlock the door. You hear a small gasp before a quick response.

“Oh! I’m sorry! Do you need anything? Need to be sized?” At the last question, Mammon decides to start feeling you up again, making you choke on air for a moment.

You clear your throat, letting out a short cough before responding to the nice lady. “No thank you! I’m just trying on quite a bit! I haven’t been shopping in ages! Thank you though!” you call, lightly trying to push Mammon away.

The stupid demon wouldn’t budge.

“Oh, alright! Let me know if you need anything! My name is Lorene!”

You sigh in relief when you hear her heels tap away, your heart finally slowing down a bit. You turn your eyes to Mammon’s, glaring up at him. “Really?” you hiss, hitting his chest.

He lets out a low chuckle, leaning forward to give you a swift kiss. “I think that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced,” he practically purrs against your neck. Your brows furrow, wondering what he could’ve possibly found hot about that.

That’s when it hits you.

He thought almost getting caught was hot.

Your face bursts with heat, hitting him for the nth time. “Are you crazy? We’d be banned from the store, maybe even the mall! We have to get out,” you whisper-shout, going to put your clothes back on.

Well, that is until Mammon slams you against the changing room’s mirror. You gasp, feeling the pressure of the shove tingling against your back. You gape up at him, trying to process that he just did that.

“You’re the one who started this. So, you’re not leaving until you finish this,” he says lowly in your ear, making you gulp. Is he serious? He can’t be serious. Right?

You found out he definitely is serious.

I mean, if the way he’s forcing you to watch your reflection in the mirror while thrusting into you has anything to say about it. It took everything in you not to moan, covering your mouth to keep you dead silent.

You would be dead silent if you got caught. They’d probably skin you alive.

Mammon made sure you came first, your pleasure comes before his own. He rubbed your clit with one hand while the other plays with your breast. His mouth focusing on your sweet spot, leaving a dark hickey behind.

Anytime your eyes start to slip shut, he’ll thrust extra hard, whispering dirty words into your ear. Mostly threats of how he’ll make you scream his name at home for all his brothers to hear if you didn’t keep watching him slide in and out of that sweet heat of yours.

With all of this happening at once, it doesn’t take long for you to cum. Your body shakes with the orgasm, your mouth falling open in a silent moan. He’s not far behind you, quickly pulling out of you and forcing you to your knees.

You swallow every last drop of his seed, your eyes half-lidded as you stare up at him. When he pulls out of your mouth, you quietly pant for air. Just then, there’s another knock.

“Miss? Are you sure you don’t need help? Y-”

“Yes, I’m fine. I’m almost done now. Thank you,” you reply a little too breathlessly. Once her footsteps fade to go help with a customer, you and Mammon quickly get dressed. You both slip out of the changing room, making sure you left no evidence behind.

You fix your hair as you walk towards the checkout line. Asmo is quick to spot you two and rush over to you. “There you are! Did you try on whatever it is that Mammon wanted you t-”

He cuts himself off, staring at your neck with widened eyes. Then, he starts to smirk, his eyes shining. “Oh? What’s this?” he asks playfully, his fingers trailing over the mark.

Mammon is quick to smack his hand away with a glare, pulling you into his side and wrapping his arm around you with no shame. Asmo’s smirk only grows as he eyes the two of you. “Did you two just have sex? Without me? I’m hurt, (Y/n). I thought w-”

“Shut up, Asmodeus,” Mammon snaps, his voice low with warning. Your eyes widen, Asmo’s getting just as big. Neither of you was expecting him to be so serious. He called Asmo by his full name, showing you both just how serious he is.

The flirty demon quickly recovers and puts his hands up in surrender, a smirk still on his face. “Alright, let’s pay for this and get going,” he says knowingly, going to stand in line.

When Asmo turns his back to you both, Mammon squeezes you closer to him. “If he ever flirts with you again, tell me. I’ll kick his a-”

“Baby, it’s okay. Calm down. He’s just teasing us and trying to get you riled up,” you whisper reassuringly, squeezing him back. He lets out a sigh, rolling his head a bit to try and pop his neck.

“Well, it worked. You’re mine. He knows that. So, he better stop,” Mammon says back to you, not bothering to be quiet. You’ve never heard Mammon sound so possessive or territorial. I mean, you have, just not such in a serious way before. Your eyes watch his tongue poke the inside of his cheek, something stirring inside of you.

“Hey,” you say softly, getting him to look at you, “you’re the only one for me.” And just like that, his dorky self is back. You smile back at him when you see a giant smile stretch across his face. He’s just so cute.

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dialovers-translations · 4 years ago

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Diabolik Lovers VANDEAD CARNIVAL ;; Kanato Route ー Chapter 4

ー The scene starts in front of the wagons

Yui: ( There’s more people around now, so it has become harder to look for Teddy. )

Kanato: Teddy...Hic...Where are you?

Yui: Kanato-kun, don’t cry?

Kanato: Then find Teddy for me.

Yui: Well...

Kanato: If you can’t, don’t tell me what to do!

Yui: ( I’d love to help him out, but I don’t have the faintest clue where Teddy might have run off to... )

Kanato: Why? ...Sniffle...Why do you do this...? Teddy...

Yui: ( Anyway, I have to calm him down... )

Kanato-kun, they’re selling candy over there! Why don’t we take a small break?

Kanato: Honestly, you are just so...How dare you say such a thing when Teddy has gone missing!?

Yui: T-That’s true but...Kanato-kun, I just figured that while your eyes are all teared up like that, you wouldn’t be able to see anything...Like that, you won’t be able to find Teddy either.

Kanato: Well...Sniffle, you might have a point there but...

Yui: See? Come on, let’s go?

Kanato: ...You really are hopeless. Fine then, I’ll go take a look.

Yui: ( Thank god... )

*TIMESKIP*

Yui: ...Kanato-kun, are they yummy?

Kanato: Yes...Eating something sweet helps me ease up.

Yui: I see, I’m glad.

( Well then, what should we do next? If we can’t find Teddy at all, we’ll just be running around in circles forever... )

( There’s still plenty of places we haven’t looked, but he can’t possibly have gone that far, right? )

Kanato: Nn...It’s delicious. I would have loved to share some with Teddy.

Say, Yui-san? I wonder why Teddy wouldn’t leave your side?

Yui: I don’t know either.

Kanato: Don’t tell me...The two of you aren’t working together to deceive me, are you?

Yui: Of course not! I mean, I can’t even understand what Teddy says...

Kanato: I don’t want to hear your excuses! If it turns out that’s the truth...I won’t forgive you either!

Yui: Wait, listen to me...!

Selection

→ Grab his hand

Yui: Kanato-kun, please. Listen to me.

( His hand...It’s shaking. )

Kanato: What’s wrong? No point in trying to limit the movements of my hand.

I can easily overpower you if I so wish to.

Yui: No! I didn’t mean it like that. I just wanted to put you at ease...

Kanato: You’re lying!

Yui: I’m not!

( Seems like it had the opposite effect... )

→ Embrace him (☾)

*Rustle*

Yui: Kanato-kun...Please, listen?

Kanato: ...What?

Yui: It definitely isn’t what you think.

I don’t know what it is, but I’m sure Teddy has a reason for what he’s doing...

Kanato: There you go again, spouting random nonsense again...Then what reason would he have...!?

Yui: Kanato-kun, calm down...!

Kanato: Shut up!

...Right. If I torment you, Teddy might show up...

I’ll suck your blood right here, right now.

Yui: Eh? W-Why would you...? We’re surrounded by other Vampires right now...

Reiji-san said you shouldn’t suck my blood anywhere others can see us...

ー Kanato moves closer

Kanato: I don’t care about that. You are my prey, so all you need to do is shut up and listen to what I say.

Yui: N-No...!

*Rumble*

Yui: ...Eh?

( What’s that sound...? It feels like the ground’s shaking... )

ー The people around them start shouting

Kanato: Shut up all of you...! Don’t get in my way!

Yui: ( The crowd suddenly grew restless. I wonder what’s going on? )

*Thump thump*

Yui: ( Also this sound, almost as if something is approaching us... )

...I-Is that...!?

Kanato: Eh? ...Teddy!?

Yui: Eh!? That’s Teddy? How did he get this big...?

( No way...!? Teddy became super sized...!? )

*RUMBLE*

*THUD THUD*

Big Teddy: ...

Kanato: Teddy, quit joking around!

Big Teddy: ...

Yui: ( He got more than just big...He’s around the same height as the buildings around us. )

( How...? )

*THUD THUD*

Big Teddy: ...

ー Big Teddy tries to pick up Yui

Yui: Eh!? Kyaaaah!!

( Something suddenly grabbed hold of me and I’m being pulled up? )

Kanato: Yui-san!

Yui: Kanato-kun, save me!

( I’m moving further and further away from the ground...He’s got a tight grip on me, so I can’t move. )

( I’m scared...! )

Teddy! Let me go!!

*THUD THUD THUD*

Big Teddy: ...

Kanato: Teddy! Where are you going!? Wait...Give her back!

Big Teddy: ...

*THUD THUD THUD*

Kanato: Teddyーーーーー!!

ー The scene shifts to the Carnival’s venue

*THUD THUD THUD*

Big Teddy: ...

Yui: ( I got scooped up by the super sized Teddy...and have been stuck in his fluffy arms ever since. )

( He seemed to be headed straight somewhere, but where could that be? )

( His movements are slow, but his steps are big, so we keep on proceeding forward. )

*Clap clap clap*

Male Vampire A: The Carnival never disappoints! The final parade is truly magnificent!

Female Vampire A: My thoughts exactly...Fufu, should I try waving at them?

Yui: ( This is...They think this is all part of an act, don’t they...? )

( The Vampires are all waving their hands in the air or running up to us...We’re the centre of attention. )

Hey, Teddy! Why are you doing this?

Big Teddy: ...

Kanato: Wait!

Yui: Kanato-kun!

Kanato: Please wait, Teddy!

Let go of her, please! Hey, you can hear me, right!?

Listen to me...!

Give her back!

Big Teddy: ...

Yui: ( I can hear Kanato-kun’s voice all the way up here but...Does it not reach Teddy? )

Teddy! Can’t you hear what he’s saying!?

Big Teddy: ...

Yui: Teddy, I’m begging you. Put me down!

*THUD THUD THUD*

Big Teddy: ...

Yui: ( It’s no use, doesn’t seem like he’ll stop in his tracks any time soon. )

( If not even Kanato-kun can get through to him, then there’s no way my voice would reach him. )

( No, but, I shouldn’t give up, right...? )

ー The scene shifts to the path to the castle

Yui: ( We immediately lost sight of Kanato-kun again. )

( Furthermore, Teddy wouldn’t turn towards him a single time... )

( ...Kanato-kun...Where are you? )

*THUD THUD THUD*

Big Teddy: ...

Yui: Say, Teddy? ...Eh? He stopped?

( He carefully stepped through the gate with his large frame...Is he planning to enter the castle? )

( Eh? This is... )

ー The scene shifts to the ballroom

*Thud*

Big Teddy: ...

*THUD THUD THUD*

Yui: ( What’s going on...!? There’s a bunch of Vampires in formal wear. )

*THUD THUD*

Male Vampire D: The Queen of the Carnival has made her arrival!

Yui: ( Eh...? )

ー The crowd cheers

*Clap clap clap*

Male Vampire D: Long live the Queen~! (1)

Female Vampire C: She really showed up with a bang! I expected no less!

Male Vampire D: Well, that’s the Queen for you, no? Things are finally firing up!

Female Vampire C: Oh dear? Speaking of which, where could the King of the Carnival be?

Yui: ( The King? Right, if there’s a Queen, it wouldn’t be strange for there to be a King as well. )

ー Kanato bursts into the room

Kanato: Wait!

Yui: Kanato-kun!

Big Teddy: ...

Kanato: Teddy...I’ve finally got you cornered. Come on, give her back!

Big Teddy: ...

*THUD THUD THUD*

Kanato: Teddy, what are you doing!? Can’t you tell that’s dangerous!?

Big Teddy: ...

Yui: Teddy, stop!

Kanato: Why...? Why would you trouble me like this? Tell me!

You should know very well just how important she is to me...!

Yui: ( Kanato-kun...!? )

*THUD THUD THUD*

Big Teddy: ...

Kanato: Eh? You kidnapped her because I said that...?

No way...I love you, Teddy. However, she just happens to be equally important to me...

Can’t you tell? You’re both precious to me!

So you won’t accomplish anything trying to take her away from me, understand?

Big Teddy: ...

*THUD THUD THUD*

Kanato: ...You can’t, Teddy! Don’t destroy her...!

Yui: Destroy...Me?

( Is that why he scooped me up...!? )

Big Teddy: ...

ー Teddy starts squeezing her

Yui: Uu...I can’t...breathe...

Kanato: Cut it out! Let her go! This is an order, Teddy!

Yui: ( Ah...I can’t...I’m losing the strength in my body... )

Kanato: When you do such a thing, I hate you!

You’re well aware of just how much I treasure her, right?

Teddy...You’re the one who has always been watching over me from up close, no? There’s plenty of things I have only ever told you as well.

Yet, you’re out there hurting the person I love.

I don’t want to see you like that...!

Hey, I’m begging you, Teddy. ...Return her to me at once. I’m the only one who can hurt her!

I won’t let anyone take her away from me...She...belongs to me!

Big Teddy: ...

*THUD THUD THUD*

Yui: Teddy...?

Teddy’s approaching Kanato-kun?

*THUD THUD THUD*

Kanato: I won’t forgive you even if you cry. However...I just can’t bring myself to hate you.

So, Teddy...Please give her back to me?

Big Teddy: ...

Yui: ( Ah...He’s loosening his grip. )

ー Teddy suddenly goes back to normal

Kanato: Teddy...went back to normal?

Yui: ( My body was hurled into the air...? )

Kyaaahーー!

Kanato: Yui-san, watch out! (2)

*Thud*

Yui: ( Nn...I...? )

*Rustle rustle*

Kanato: I finally got you back.

I can’t bear seeing someone else touch you...Even if that other person is Teddy.

Yui: Kanato-kun...

Kanato: You must never, ever leave my side.

ー The crowd cheers once more

*Clap clap clap*

Female Vampire C: Long live the King~!

Female Vampire D: The King and Queen are finally together! This calls for a celebration!

Kanato: ...What is this ruckus about?

It appears that they are talking about us but...

Yui: Yeah...

( Besides, everyone has got their eyes on us, surrounding us while Kanato-kun is holding me in his arms like a princess. )

( This might be a little embarrassing... )

*Flap flap flap*

Yui: Kanato-kun, a bat...

Kanato: Yeah...Eh? A message from Father?

We are Adam and Eve?

Yui: ( Adam and Eve...? )

Kanato: A grand celebration for the birth of a new King and Queen...?

Which means Father was behind all of this...?

Yui: Eh...? Then Teddy moving as well...

Kanato: ...He wanted to hold a Carnival to celebrate the newfound Adam and Eve, but a regular one would be too dull so...

He pulled a few minor pranks, he says.

Yui: Eh!? F-For that reason!?

Then, the whole ‘Queen of the Carnival’ thing was just an excuse to get me to the Demon World!?

Also, I wonder what he means by ‘Adam and Eve’...?

Kanato: How am I supposed to know that!?

Yui: S-Sorry...

Kanato: ...able.

Yui: Eh?

Kanato: Simply unforgivable!

Yui: Kyah...! Kanato-kun, don’t suddenly let go...

*Rustle rustle*

Kanato: I won’t let him get away with using Teddy like that!!

Father never changes...He keeps on taking everything precious away from me...

Even though he knows very well just how much Teddy means to me!!

He’s obviously watching us from somewhere right now! I won’t forgive him, never!

Yui: Kanato-kun, c-calm down...More importantly, where is Teddy...?

Kanato: Ah, Teddy!

ー Kanato scoops him up

Kanato: Thank god...This is the Teddy I know and love.

Welcome back, Teddy. You finally made it back to me, huh?

...Yeah, exactly. Here, you should make up with Teddy as well, Yui-san.

Yui: Sure...Thank you for coming back safe and sound, Teddy.

Kanato: Fufu...Teddy is happy too.

Yui: I see, I’m glad...

Kanato: But, that must have been scary, Teddy? I’m so sorry...

I have to make sure I get revenge for all those horrible things Father did to you...

I wonder what would work? ...Say, do you have any ideas, Yui-san?

Yui: Uhm...?

Kanato: Teddy says he’ll agree to your offer as well. What do you want to do?

Burn him at the stake? Or drown him? (3) What do you prefer?

Yui: I-I’ll keep that for later...

Right now...Ah, look! They brought out a large buffet!

We walked all over the place, so I’m sure the two of you are starving, right?

Kanato: ...You say that, but your stomach’s the one growling.

Yui: Eh?

Kanato: Just kidding. ...Fufu, understood.

In that case, let’s dig in. What do you say, Teddy?

Yui: ( Hoh...Thank god... )

Kanato: Come on, hurry up.

Yui: Yes! Wah, don’t pull me!

*Rustle*

ー Kanato drags her along

Kanato: Can’t do. I have to keep a firm grip on you, so you can never slip away from me again.

Yui: Yeah...Thank you. I’m so glad you saved me.

Also...

( Even though it was embarrassing to hear him openly admit to his feelings for me like that, I felt happy... )

Kanato: ...What are you grinning for?

Yui: No, I just thought about how happy I am. That you think of me as...

Kanato: What could you be talking about?

If I don’t keep a close eye on you, you’ll end up putting me to shame. ...That’s all.

Yui: ( Uu...Still, that doesn’t change the fact he treasures me. )

Thank you...Fufu.

Kanato: Haah...You are such a strange girl. I really can’t take my eyes off you for even one second.

Please don’t ever disappear on me again, understood?

Say, Yui-san?

Let’s enjoy the Carnival. The three of us together...Okay?

We’ll give Father a nice show.

Yui: Kanato-kun...

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) They use the term ばんざい or ‘banzai’, which is a typical Japanese cheer meaning ‘hooray’. It is often accompanied by the action of throwing both arms into the air.

(2) While the text says ‘Yui-san’, the voice says ‘abunai!’ which means ‘watch out!’, so I combined both in my translation.

(3) 水責め or ‘mizu-zeme’ is a torture technique which involves having someone ingest large amounts of water, sometimes leading to death.

← RETURN TO CHAPTER 3

→ PROCEED TO FINALE ENDING

→ PROCEED TO NORMAL ENDING

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #kanato sakamaki #vandead carnival #diabolik lovers translation #vckanatochapter4

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refinedbuffoonery · 4 years ago

Text

Looking Through A Window (2)

macriley married undercover au

masterlist.

Oh man. My dudes. I received so much love and support and excited feedback on the first chapter that I thought my heart was going to explode. Y’all are so wonderful. Keep it up. <3

*****

Luckily, Matty lets them take the Phoenix jet to Houston. Flying commercial would make today even more tortuous than it already promises to be, albeit for a different reason.

No matter how hard he tries to distract himself, Mac cannot stop staring at the diamond ring on Riley’s finger. The princess cut gem is stunning and ridiculously large, but it suits her cover as a lucrative arms dealer. A white gold wedding band sits below it. Riley left her usual assortment of rings at home, and Mac can’t help but think her long, delicate fingers look bare without them.

He tears his eyes away from the rings again and again, both on the plane and while driving to the safe house. Riley drives with just her left hand, her right elbow resting on the center console. Mac likes driving, but there’s something relaxing about riding shotgun while Riley drives instead. He’s never been able to put a finger on it, but the sense of ease washes over him all the same. Admiring the way sunlight illuminates her engagement ring is simply a bonus.

He doesn’t let himself imagine what he might give her, in an alternate future where she reciprocates his feelings and one day wants to marry him.

Harley obediently lays in the backseat, staring out the windshield. She's been on her best behavior the entire twenty four hours Mac's known her, ever the professional.

Which puts her completely at odds with Mac and Riley's shenanigans—cracking jokes, dancing on the plane and in the car, doing purposefully bad impersonations of Russ. These are the best parts of going on ops alone with Riley. They can let loose in a way they just couldn’t when anyone else other than Bozer was around. Everyone else is professional all the time; Mac and Riley are only professional when they have to be.

Riley taps the steering wheel in time to the classic rock song on the radio. “What do you want for dinner?”

“Dinner? We haven’t even had lunch yet!”

“True.” Riley chuckles. “Can you tell I’m hungry?”

Mac gives her a sly look. “Not at all.”

They settle on Texas barbecue for lunch on their way to the safe house, because that’s what Jack would choose if he was here. If only the old man could see them now, all grown up and getting sent to take down terrorists unsupervised.

Seated in a booth in the far corner of the restaurant, Mac raises his brisket sandwich in a toast to Jack, in whatever afterlife he found himself in. Hopefully it’s the one with an endless supply of good barbecue.

“Oh man, Jack would’ve loved this,” Riley says through a mouthful of food. She sneaks Harley a piece of brisket.

Mac smiles. “Yeah, he would’ve.”

It’s easier, now, to talk about him. At first, Mac hadn’t been sure he could ever get to a point where talking about Jack didn’t make him want to hit something or just curl up and sob.

But here he is, on the other side. Him and Riley both.

Their safe house is another twenty minutes away from the restaurant, in a nice neighborhood full of trees and children playing on the sidewalks. It’s so much greener than a California neighborhood could ever dream of being. There’s even a park across the street from their apartment complex. It’s exactly the sort of place a young, affluent couple would want to live.

Riley parks in their designated space, and the pair ascend the stairs to apartment number 202. Outside of the car, they don’t dare use each other’s real names until they’re sure the apartment is free of bugs. The place was furnished earlier that week by other Phoenix agents, but Mac and Riley do a thorough sweep of every room just in case.

It’s a nice apartment. Wood flooring, granite countertops, matching cabinets throughout. There are pictures on the walls, but Mac doesn’t bother to stop and check what they are.

Riley clears the space from back to front, so Mac does the opposite. He clears the kitchen first, frowning at the absence of any sort of food, before moving on to the living room.

Mac stops dead in his tracks when he enters the bedroom. The singular bedroom. With a singular, queen-sized bed.

Oh no. This is not happening.

Mac shakes his head and rubs his eyes, hoping his mind is just playing tricks on him and that there’s actually two beds. Or a whole other room he missed before.

The one and only bed seems to mock him.

He walks back out, finding Riley already sitting at the kitchen table, turning on her laptop. “Uhh, Riles? There’s only—”

“One bed,” she finishes, not bothering to look up. “I know.”

Oh god. He can’t do this. He can’t. Not with his dignity still intact. Mac stammers, “I’ll, uhh, sleep on the couch. You can have it.”

That gets Riley’s attention. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re going to be here for weeks. You’ll hurt your back sleeping on the couch that long. Just sleep with me.” Riley’s eyes widen as she realizes what she just said. “In the bed,” she quickly adds.

Mac ducks his head to hide his blush.

“What are you working on?” he asks in a feeble attempt to distract himself from their sleeping situation. Because it will definitely be a situation if Mac’s not careful.

“Connecting to the Wi-Fi,” Riley says in a slow, “What else would I be doing?” sort of way.

“Right.” Mac silently curses himself. Of course that’s what she’s doing. “Anyway, I’m assuming you already know this, since you probably opened the fridge too, but we have no food.”

“I saw.” She’s multitasking again, manicured fingers flying faster across her keyboard than Mac can keep track of. “Why don’t you unload our bags while I finish this, and then we can go.”

Unable to help feeling like he’s been dismissed, Mac complies without protest.

Soon they’re back in the car, headed to the grocery store, and the whole thing feels ridiculously domestic. Mac’s never been a fan of grocery shopping, but Riley makes it almost...fun. For starters, she’s not methodical about it the way Bozer and Desi are. But more than that, getting to spend time with her doing mundane, non-work stuff is a nice reminder that their relationship is more than just the job. They’re friends too.

Mac wishes there is a way to tell her all that without it sounding weird.

They come home, unload the groceries, and take Harley for a long walk, and that feels easy too. It feels normal, even though literally nothing about this situation is normal, and Mac already knows he’ll miss this when the op is over.

But normalcy ends when Riley beckons Mac to sit beside her at the kitchen table, and together they write an advertisement for their arms dealing business. Once they’re satisfied with it, Riley sends it off into the dark web, and there’s nothing to do but wait, like a spider after spinning her web.

The waiting is the worst part.

Mac is contemplating taking Harley for a second walk when Riley asks, “Want to help me make dinner?” He takes one look at her hands on her hips and the “you don’t actually have a choice” look on her face and knows he’ll be left to fend for himself if he doesn’t help now. Mac learned that the hard way back when he and Riley lived together.

“Sure.”

They work in comfortable silence. Mac chops vegetables and grates cheese for their quesadillas while Riley does the actual cooking part. Even though they are doing separate tasks, Mac is acutely aware of every move Riley makes, no matter how insignificant. Flexing her long, thin fingers around a knife. Itching the back of her calf with her foot. Dancing in place, spatula in hand, while she waits to flip the quesadillas sizzling in the pan.

Mac smiles softly. Her random little dances are cute. He’s noticed them more and more since realizing he has feelings for her, but if Mac is being honest, he’s always thought the dances are cute.

Riley hisses as she peeks under the tortilla, checking to see if it’s browned yet.

“You good?” Mac asks, frowning.

“Yeah, I touched the pan by accident.” Riley runs her thumb under cold water.

Her laptop dings while they eat. Wide-eyed, Mac glances at Riley. That was fast. She grimaces before sliding the laptop closer and checking the notification.

“Is it them?” he asks tentatively. That’s the hard part about this; in order for their business to look more legit, they had to just put an ad out and hope for a response, rather than target the terrorist organization directly.

Riley exhales. “No, it’s not them. It’s someone else.”

Swallowing another bite of quesadilla, Mac says, “I don’t know whether I’m relieved or if that’s worse.”

“Same.”

There are no more responses that night.

*****

Mac wakes up in the same position he fell asleep in—on his side, facing outward, with as much space between him and Riley as possible. When they crawled into bed the night before, Riley did the same.

Harley spent the night on the couch.

She’s a very guarded dog, Mac is slowly realizing. Tolerating, but not trusting. Mac supposes he would be like that too if he was a dog and he got stuck with a bunch of strangers after his human suddenly disappeared one day.

He makes coffee, feeds Harley breakfast, and takes a shower, all before Riley loses her battle with the snooze button and finally gets out of bed. While she showers, Mac takes Harley for a walk in hopes that the cool, spring air will ease the anxiety that took root the moment Riley released their ad into the void.

It doesn’t.

Dark, puffy clouds loom on the horizon, and the few birds Mac hears shriek at each other in warning. It looks like a storm is coming.

When Mac returns, he’s met with a grim expression, one he understands without Riley uttering a single word. “They answered,” she confirms.

“What did they say?” Unclipping Harley’s leash, Mac moves to stand behind Riley, resting his hands on the back of her chair. The scent of her shampoo tickles his nose, and he forces himself to ignore it and focus on what Riley’s saying.

“They want to meet. Today.”

“Time or place?”

Riley points at a small box on her screen. “Just an address.”

“What’s there?”

“A warehouse,” Riley says. “Owned by the same shell corporation other Phoenix techs already tied to the organization.”

“Not very clandestine, are they?”

“No, they’re not.” Riley looks up at him, her head bumping his sternum, and butterflies ricochet inside Mac’s rib cage. There’s something soft in Riley’s expression that makes Mac want to kiss her. “Are you ready for this?”

Mac sighs. “As ready as I ever am. Are you?”

“Yeah,” she says, but her confidence falters. Without thinking, Mac squeezes her shoulders in reassurance before walking away to change.

*****

The warehouse is located on the edge of the city, in an industrial area that has certainly seen better days. Even from a distance, Mac can see cobwebs decorating the warehouse windows and rust creeping up the roller doors. Aside from Riley, there’s not another soul in sight.

As per the directions the organization sent after Riley confirmed the meeting, Mac parks on the south side of the building, near the only functional-looking door. He doesn’t look at Riley as they get out of the car, instead desperately trying not to cringe at the cold, heavy weight of the gun holstered at his side, hidden beneath his jacket.

High-end arms dealers couldn’t walk around unarmed, unfortunately.

Although her hands are occupied with holding Harley’s leash, there’s a gun hidden beneath Riley’s suit jacket as well. Mac’s stomach churns. The second Riley emerged from their bedroom earlier wearing that jet black suit, she was a different person. She was wholly Genevieve Turner, and no matter how hard Mac tried, he couldn’t find even a single trace of his best friend beneath the icy exterior.

Locking their SUV, Mac smooths the lapels of his own black suit and slips into character as well.

The dark clouds Mac noticed earlier are directly overhead now. Mac has never believed in omens the way Jack did, but he can’t help hearing Jack’s voice in his head, warning him that black clouds are a sign of certain doom. Or something like that.

There’s no one inside the warehouse, at least as far as Mac can see. “Hello?” he calls, the word echoing slightly in the open space. Aside from a few random wooden crates, the room is empty.

A door slams, and then an older man comes into view. He’s probably in his late fifties, with graying hair and a beer belly his shirt doesn’t quite cover. The man swaggers like he owns the place, although Mac doubts the leader of a terrorist cell would deign to play tour guide.

No doubt there’s a quip on the edge of Riley’s tongue about entitled white men, but she doesn’t share it.

The man extends a hand to Mac in introduction. “Conrad.” His sneer doesn’t reach his eyes.

Mac frowns, keeping his hands at his sides. “Last name?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

What he’s about to say might screw everything up before it even starts, but Mac says it anyway. In his gut, he knows it’s the right call. “If it doesn’t matter, then we’re done here. My wife and I have no interest in entering a business relationship with someone too inexperienced to understand that trust is integral to any transaction.” Mac spins on his heel and strides toward the door, Riley falling into step beside him.

“Wait!” the man calls. They pause, turning around slowly. “Deacon. Conrad Deacon.” The man seems to know he’s already lost. Good. “Welcome to the cause.” He gestures for Mac and Riley to follow him.

Mac stands his ground. In his peripheral, Riley stands utterly still, the perfect mask of cool, collected neutrality. Almost bored, even. It’s scary how easily she becomes her cover.

“Come on now,” Conrad says, taking a single step forward. “We have much to discuss.”

That’s enough of the power play, Mac thinks, but just as he’s about to give in and follow Conrad, Riley utters a single, sharp command that rings through the room. “Sit.”

Harley obeys.

Riley’s lips curve in a cruel, taunting smile. “Then enlighten us.” Mac suppresses a shiver; he’s seen this side of Riley plenty of times before, watched her hone it over the years, but it’s still unnerving. Admittedly, it’s also kind of hot.

Conrad ignores her entirely. He croons, “Why don’t we start with your names?” It’s phrased like a question. It sounds like a question, but Mac sees the demand for what it really is.

Mac gestures to Riley. “This is my wife, Genevieve Turner. And my name is James.” His father’s name tastes like ash on Mac’s tongue.

“And the dog?”

“Killer,” Riley sneers. Mac isn’t sure if she’s kidding or not.

Again, Conrad doesn’t acknowledge her. “James, why don’t I give you the tour and explain what we do here.”

“We’ll go on the tour, but we are not here to join your cause.” It takes every ounce of Mac’s willpower to maintain his neutral tone. “All we care about is what you’d like us to provide and how much you’ll pay for it.”

Conrad doesn’t hide his displeasure. “Fine. Follow me.”

Mac and Riley are led through the open warehouse. The layout is straightforward and nearly impossible to get lost in. But after Conrad shows them a room full of rifles—countless hung on the walls, floor to ceiling, the rest in half-open crates—Mac finds himself counting the number of wooden shipping crates scattered around the building.

He doesn’t like his final number.

Arming terrorists doesn’t sit well with Mac, even if it serves a purpose. It makes him sick, knowing he will likely be indirectly responsible for their next attack.

Especially because those crates are no doubt full of the kind of rifles designed to kill people most effectively. The ones hanging on the wall are military grade, probably cutting-edge. Desi would know exactly what they are and how they work.

Trusting Riley is paying close attention, Mac only half listens to Conrad babble about the cause. But then the older man says something that stops Mac in his tracks. “Our country is being run into the ground by whiny do-nothings,” Conrad asserts, “who waste our money and spew garbage that some people matter more than others. Well, you know what? Hardworking, everyday Americans matter. But no,” he scoffs, “those damn liberals don’t like it when we remind them of the truth. Once we’re rid of them and the insufferables who elected them, this country will be better off.”

The ground sways under Mac’s feet. He knows these people believe this, read it in Matty’s extensive briefing notes. But it’s another thing entirely to hear someone say it to his face.

He can only imagine what Riley must be thinking.

Clearing his throat, Mac tries to redirect the conversation. “Like I said, we don’t care about your cause. Just tell us what you’re looking for, and we’ll be on our way.”

Conrad eyes him suspiciously, but complies. “We’re looking for something a little more than what you can get at the store, you know?”

Mac doesn’t, not exactly. He’ll have to ask Desi later. “I do,” he lies.

“Good. Here’s what we’re willing to pay for it.” He hands Mac a folded piece of paper, and Mac does a double take when he reads the number. There are a lot of zeroes. “And as a show of good faith, we’d like it delivered tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Riley splutters. Mac feels it then, the broiling rage slipping through a crack in her persona. He needs to get her out of there. Now. Not just to preserve the op, but for Riley’s wellbeing. Some audacity Matty has making Riley play nice with men like this.

Mac slides his hands into his pockets, using the movement as a cover to brush his knuckles against Riley’s fist. I know. I’m here. I’m sorry.

For the first time, Conrad addresses Riley directly. “Yes. Tomorrow. Unless that’s something you can’t do?”

“We can do that,” she replies calmly, and the difference between her reactions is like night and day. As quickly as that crack appeared, it was gone.

“Excellent.” Conrad takes another step toward Riley, offering to shake hands, but Harley’s low, menacing growl keeps him at bay. Rewarding the dog with a quick scratch on the head, Riley closes the gap and shakes Conrad’s still-outstretched hand.

“It’s a deal,” she says. Following suit, Mac shakes Conrad’s hand as well and follows Riley out the door, neither of them uttering another word.

Mac drives. One look at Riley’s trembling fist decides for him.

By the time the warehouse disappears from the rearview mirror, he can’t take the silence anymore. “Hey,” Mac starts, but Riley cuts him off with a hand.

“Not until we’re inside.”

They hit every single red light between the warehouse and the apartment, and Mac anxiously taps the steering wheel. Raindrops land on the windshield. They’re small at first, but soon the drops are large and numerous enough to refract the streetlights, and Mac struggles to see where he’s going. He adjusts the windshield wipers over and over, never landing on the right speed.

Too slow. Too fast. Too slow. Too fast.

Mac settles on a setting that’s slightly too fast, and the squeak of rubber on glass nearly matches his heart thudding in his chest.

Riley stares straight ahead, unmoving, unblinking. Mac wants to reach out, to let a gentle touch say what he verbally can’t, but the road is slick enough to make him keep two hands on the wheel. We’re almost there, he reassures himself.

By the time he parks, it’s pouring hard enough that the ten second walk from the car to the door soaks them to the bone. Riley’s hands shake as she unlocks the apartment door.

Once they’re inside and Mac unclips Harley’s leash, Riley turns to him with pained, pleading eyes. His heart breaking all over again, Mac draws her in for a long, tight hug. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t have to.

Mac just cradles the back of her head and sways gently, wishing he could fix the world for her.

Neither pulls away, even when Riley suddenly says, “If Conrad was smart, he would’ve had someone bug our car while he paraded us around the warehouse. I don’t think he’s actually smart enough to do that, but we should check first, just in case.”

Mac curses himself for not thinking of that. “Good call.” He rubs Riley’s back, hoping the gesture is soothing. “I hate the way he treated you,” he snarls. “Like you weren’t even worth acknowledging.”

“Welcome to being a woman.”

It was more than that. They both know it. But neither say it.

*****

“You need what?” Matty shrieks over the phone.

Mac winces. “Sorry.” He’d called Desi first, to ask what kind of guns Conrad meant with his innuendo, and received a verbal lashing for not asking any follow-up questions. But she made her best guess anyway. Now on the phone with Matty, it doesn’t take even a single brain cell to know that her reaction will be much, much worse.

“He wants us to prove ourselves,” Riley adds. “As a show of good faith.” The words come out dripping in venom, but their boss doesn’t comment. Mac takes a second to study her; Riley changed into leggings and an oversized flannel shirt, and there are still remnants of dark makeup smudges under her eyes. Now, she’s sitting on the kitchen counter with her knees tucked into her chest. It’s weird to see her take up so little space.

Matty sighs, deeply and loudly in a way conveys her annoyance more than words ever could. “Fine. A few weeks ago, Border Control confiscated a huge shipment of smuggled guns near El Paso, so I’ll see if we can borrow those. But next time, Blondie, don’t make promises you can’t keep.” He doesn’t correct Matty in that it was Riley who made the deal. That would only add fuel to the fire.

“Thank you,” he says, and Matty hangs up. Mac runs a hand through his damp hair. “That went well.” Riley’s lips twitch, but it’s not the amused reaction he hopes for. He’s at a complete loss regarding what to say to her, so Mac gently asks, “What can I do?”

Riley slides off the counter, and Mac reaches for her automatically, although he doesn’t actually touch her; his hand hovers just beside Riley’s elbow. She doesn’t shrink away, but she makes no move to touch him either.

“Help me put him and everyone like him in a deep, dark hole where they can’t hurt anybody. And then just…” she trails off, taking a deep breath. “Keep being you.”

With that, she walks away, leaving Mac alone in the kitchen, racking his brain to figure out what that last part means.

*****

Later that night, Mac tosses and turns, replaying Conrad’s words. Once we’re rid of them and the insufferables who elected them, this country will be better off. They seem off-kilter, like what the man said and what he really meant are misaligned. Mac sighs, rubbing his face.

Another bolt of lightning illuminates the bedroom, and Mac automatically counts the seconds until he hears thunder rumbling in the distance. The storm is moving closer.

Beside him, Riley lies on her back with her eyes closed, although her breathing is too light for her to be asleep. Mac wonders if her mind is just as loud and chaotic as his.

For Riley’s sake, he hopes it’s not.

*****

Sleep never finds Mac.

The storm rages all through the night, but by the time dawn arrives, the thunder and wind dissipate, leaving just the steady downpour. The clouds are dark enough that Mac can hardly tell the sun even bothered to rise this morning.

When Riley’s alarm goes off, it’s like the shrill tone is mocking Mac for being awake. Riley groans as she shuts it off.

“Morning,” he mumbles. His throat hurts. He needs water. “Did you sleep well?”

Another groan. “No.”

“At least you slept,” Mac mutters.

Riley rolls onto her side, drawing one of the extra pillows into her chest. “Do you always toss and turn that much?”

It was his fault, he realizes, that she didn’t sleep. Mac suddenly feels guilty. “Sorry. And no.”

He expects Riley to be upset at being kept awake, but she isn’t. With a look that just might be understanding, she softly asks, “What were you thinking about?”

Mac can’t say that his thoughts whip around his mind like raindrops in last night’s storm. Not without sounding crazy, at least. So instead he says, “I don’t even know. I just have a bad feeling about this.”

“Me too,” Riley admits. “It feels off.” Her eyes are heavy, and Mac’s had enough early mornings with Riley to know it’s not just the lack of sleep weighing her down.

“Go back to sleep. I can handle the delivery.”

Riley rolls her eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not letting you do that by yourself.”

He doesn’t argue. “Okay.”

A moment passes between them. It’s been happening more and more lately—holding eye contact a little too long, sharing smirks when no one else is looking, stealing moments where it’s just the two of them and nothing else matters. Each one gives him hope that there’s not a wall between them, but instead, a door. Someone just has to be brave enough to open it.

Sitting up, Riley quipps, “Just don’t make me regret letting you sleep in the bed with me.” Mac snorts.

“No promises.”

~ Tag List ~ Want to be added? Send me an ask.

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mandoalorian · 4 years ago

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Sugar and Spice [Maxwell Lord x Reader] - Chapter 8

Summary: When you are evicted from your apartment by your toxic ex boyfriend and have no place to go, who do you turn to? Alone in the city as the countdown to Christmas begins, you find yourself applying for a job as the assistant of the world’s biggest entrepreneur; Maxwell Lord. Little do you know, he has other intentions for you. No doubt about it, this Christmas will truly be like no other.

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Smut, mentions of a previous verbally abusive relationship, typical 80s misogyny (but very little of it), mentions of food and drink, alcohol consumption. This is a sugardaddy x sugarbaby fic soooo… a daddy k!nk too oops.

But in this chapter - reader confronts her abusive ex boyfriend.

Author’s note: ANGST! Mention of an abusive relationship although I've tried to gloss over it as much as I can. Sorry this chapter was a long time coming. I'm so happy that people are enjoying Sugar and Spice.

MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS - CHAPTER EIGHT - NEXT

"I think," Maxwell swallowed. "No. I know. I know that I've fallen deeply in love with you."

You swore your heart stopped at his revelation. Hand still cupping his cheek, you looked deep into his glazed, honey brown eyes and saw nothing but the truth. The man who had rounded his career on lies and greed loved you. You felt your throat dry up, searching for words but not knowing what to say. Maxwell looked at you too, his soft eyes beginning to cross in bewilderment when you didn't say a word. He wished so desperately that you'd say something, anything. The last person Maxwell Lord said 'I love you' to, was his father. You couldn't leave him hanging.

You wanted to say it back, you wanted to so desperately tell him the truth— that you loved him too, because, you did. You hadn't confronted your feelings, you hadn't realized it fully until faced with your current situation. But now everything made sense. The jealousy, the lust, the need for affection and the want to be cared for.

Fate brought you both together. Running from an abusive relationship, getting almost kicked out of your apartment, and finding yourself in the expansive office of Maxwell Lord the IV. You thought you were going for an assistant position but instead you found yourself as his sugar baby and now… now this only complicated everything.

"Max," you whispered and he closed his eyes slowly, one final year falling down his cheek. Your gaze flicked between him and the almost finished bottle of whiskey on his desk. He'd been drinking at the gala and he'd been drinking when he got home therefore it was for certain that Maxwell was not in the right state of mind at all. "Do you want to go to bed?"

"You don't love me," Maxwell tried to ask but it came out as an embarrassing croak. "Of course you don't." He regretted the words immediately after they fell from his lips. He was so sure that he had ruined everything and things would never be the same again.

What was wrong with you? No matter how much you wanted to tell him you just couldn't. "Max," he admired the way his name fell from your soft lips. You continued to smooth his hair out of his face and he hummed in contentment, his eyes still closed. "You're so sleepy. Please, let me take you to bed." you whispered and Max barely moved. You called his name one more time and he opened his eyes the slightest. You pulled him up and wrapped an arm around his body. Despite him being much bigger than you, you somehow managed to navigate the drunk and hurting man the corridor and into his master bedroom. He slumped onto his king sized bed and you gently tucked him under the blankets. He mumbled something incoherent, reaching out and making grabby fists. He wanted you.

"Lay with me," he mumbled, trying to pull you down on top of him. You wanted to but you weren't even sure if you could stay at the penthouse after his revelation. You hadn't even shared a bed with Maxwell, and now suddenly he was requesting that you lay with him?

"I have to go." you whispered, running your fingers through his hair and pushing his bangs out of his face.

"No." he mumbled, but he was already half sleep. You planted a gentle kiss on his forehead before stepping back.

You had genuine trouble trying to process what just happened and why it happened. Maxwell trusted you. He shared with you a family secret that nobody else knew, and all because he was in love with you. You were perplexed.

Before you could leave his bedroom, you were greeted with your reflection in the mirror. Your hair was a mess, your ballgown was ruined and your makeup was tear stained. You padded into Maxwell's closet and took out one of his shirts and tailored suit pants. That man desperately needed to get a pair of normal casual clothes and fast. You tried them on, not minding the way they fit your body. You could've gone all out, finding a belt or a pair of suspenders to clip onto the light grey pants, but you decided against it. You pushed your hair out of your face and padded into the en-suite to wash your face. You didn't look much better, and you figured you probably just need a good night sleep. At least this way, no one would recognise you. You were almost certain the press would still be walking the streets looking for you and Maxwell. You actually kinda liked wearing Max's clothes, although there was no doubt in your mind that they looked better on him than you.

The streets were freezing and filled with thick snow. You regretted not taking one of Maxwell's suit jackets or warm winter coats but nevertheless you shivered all the way home. Your feet were like bricks of ice by the time you got back to your apartment. As you walked up the flights of stairs, digging into your purse for your keys, you were greeted with an unwelcome visitor. Tristan.

"Maxwell Lord," he deadpanned, standing in front of your door. You paused, looking at him hesitantly. "What the fuck do you think you're playing at?" Tristan snarled.

"What do you mean?" you asked innocently.

"You were on national television!" Tristan accused. "You and him, and a bunch of other snobby business pricks. Bruce fucking Wayne too… and the president!"

You rolled your eyes. "Tristan, it's late. Please move so I can enter my apartment and go to bed." You reached out to press your key into the lock when Tristan's large hand grabbed your wrist, his fingernails digging into your skin. You winced, trying to flinch back but he wouldn't let go, and suddenly the memories came flooding back. "Tristan," you gritted out. "Fucking let me go."

"I sold your apartment." Tristan spat.

"What?" you gasped, tears filling your eyes. "But I paid rent!"

"You're fucking around with Maxwell Lord, aren't you?" He growled.

"Who I fuck around with is none of your business! Now. Let. Me. Go." you tried pulling yourself away from Tristan but his grip around you only tightened. You squealed when he slammed you into the door. "You're going to wake the neighbours." You hissed trying desperately to keep your cool. You didn't want to seem weak. You weren't weak. You had this under control.

"Let's go somewhere more private then." Tristan smirked, dragging you unwillingly to his own apartment and locking the door behind him. "Now you tell me right now what the fuck is going on between you two."

"Or what?" You snapped back. "What the hell are you gonna do?"

"Is he your boyfriend?" Tristan quizzed.

"He's a friend." you glared at him, backing away everytime he took a step bearing you.

"A friend," Tristan repeated with a scoff of disbelief. "Just like you said on television."

You wondered how much of the gala and the interview outside had been televised but now wasn't the time to ask questions. You knew Maxwell had the power to rid you of Tristan. If he knew about the awful things Tristan had done to you and the way he had hurt you… well, Tristan may as well have had a death wish.

"Jesus Christ Tristan can you just let me go home?" you sighed, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

"I knew you were struggling with rent. I knew you had been laid off from work and it's Christmas coming up… if you had just told me you were struggling I would've made a negotiation." Tristan shook his head shamefully. "But no."

"Negotiate?" you questioned in disbelief. "You're a fucking manipulator!"

"And you're a fucking whore!" Tristan screamed, towering over you, his cheeks turning bright red with rage. "You know, I really didn't think you had it in you. Fucking around with some big CEO who thinks he's a hotshot."

"And what are you supposed to be?" you exhaled shakily, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. His words stung. "Maxwell… he cares about me. You never gave a shit about me."

"You think he cares about you? You seriously think Maxwell Lord cares about anyone other than himself?" Tristan barked. "He has you wrapped around your finger. I thought you were smarter than this."

"You don't know him the way I do." you smiled bravely. Fuck, you really did love him. And you needed him now more than ever. You knew that he was just a phone call away and if you told him you were in danger he would come running to rescue you with his whole team of security. If only you had just stayed with him. If only you had just decided to lay next to him, curled up in his arms in his warm bed.

"So you are fucking him?" Tristan scrunched his nose up and looked at you with disgust. He double checked the door was locked and put his key in his pocket before walking over to his bedroom. "You can sleep on the floor like the whore you are." Tristan laughed before going into his bedroom and shutting the door.

Once he was gone, you were left standing in the middle of your ex boyfriend's apartment feeling small and helpless. You didn't know what to do or where to go. You didn't even have Maxwell's number memorised so you couldn't call him. You let the tears free fall as you glanced between the locked door and the windows that you knew you couldn't squeeze out of even if you tried. You were trapped in a place that has brought back so much fear, and you didn't know what to do. You didn't know what tomorrow would hold.

You could barely sleep, the December cold hanging over your body like an icicle. You would give anything to be in the warmth of Maxwell's penthouse. God, you'd give anything just to be with Maxwell. You needed him.

The next morning, Maxwell woke up groggy, and his butler, Kenneth, was already waiting by his bed holding a platter of French toast, cup of black coffee and a glass of water. "Good morning sir," he greeted. "Your hangover breakfast, as requested."

Maxwell rubbed his eyes and shuffled upwards in bed as Kenneth placed the silver tray on his lap. It smelled delicious but he couldn't help but wish you were there to share it with him. He imagined you laying next to him in bed, giving him sleepy kisses while Kenneth presented you with your favourite breakfast meal; waffles and berries. The perfect life.

That's when Maxwell remembered. He practically three the breakfast on the floor and dived out of bed, still in his clothes from the night before. He caught a glimpse of your gala gown in the entryway of his closet and his heart sank in his chest. The memories came flooding back. He told you he loved you, but he didn't remember you saying it back.

"Have you seen Y/N?" Maxwell asked hurriedly, trying to weigh up what time you must have left. He quickly tore open his shirt and grabbed a clean one out of the closet.

Kenneth stood there awkwardly watching his boss work up a frenzy. "Uh no sir," he replied. "So I gather you won't be eating breakfast?" Kenneth's gaze flicked from Maxwell to the mess of French toast and spilled coffee that was sure to stain the cream coloured carpet.

"Shit no, sorry Kenneth. Could you call Jeeves and have him drive me to her apartment? I have to see her." Maxwell asked as he buttoned up the top of his dress shirt.

"Right away sir, but there's something I think you must see first." Kenneth swapped out the usual business newspaper that Maxwell would read for a glossy red-top tabloid magazine.

"You know I don't read that bullshit." Maxwell sighed, quickly combing his hair and trying his best to style it into place given the stressful circumstances. He wasn't going to forget to spritz his cologne either.

"Sir…." Kenneth drew out again, flashing the cover in Maxwell's direction. Maxwell caught a glimpse of it and his heart stopped. Front page was an image of you trending through the thick snow in the dead of night wearing Maxwell's clothes. The headline was explicitly disgusting, shaming you in every way possible. Maxwell's lips parted as he drunk in your appearance and he was horrified as he read the mean words the journalists had wrote about you.

"She cannot see this. I want you to buy every copy of this god forsaken tabloid and have them all destroyed. You understand?" Maxwell ordered, slamming his black business credit card into the chest of Kenneth. "Get the rest of the house staff to help you and do it fast."

"No worries sir," Kenneth smiled. "Jeeves is waiting for you outside."

Maxwell nodded appreciatevely as he tied his shoelaces. "Thanks."

"Sir?" Kenneth asked timidly.

"Yeah?" Maxwell asked, semi breathless.

"When you're with her, I see your face light up. I see the same happiness in you that I once saw in your father." Kenneth admitted and Maxwell's heart blossomed at the comparison. "When you get her, please don't ever let her go."

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added)!

December Magic: @100layersofdaddyissues @mrschiltoncat @thisisthe-wayson @this-cat-is-dea @blonde2bomshell @maiyaaaa0130 @autumnleaves1991-blog @justanotherblonde23

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord #max lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord x reader #pedro Pascal smut

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mavda · 4 years ago

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Beast Tamers

Ch.1 | Ch.2 | Ch.3 | Ch.4(1) | Ch.4(2) | Ch.5(1) | Ch.5(2) | Ch.5(3) | Ch.5(4) | Ch.6(1) | Ch.6(2) | Ch.6(3) | Ch.7(1) | Ch.7(2) | Ch.7(3) | Ch.7(4) | Ch.7(5) | Ch.8(1) | Ch.8(2) | Ch.8(3) | Ch.9(1) | Ch.9(2) | Ch.9(3) | Ch.9(4) | Ch.10(1) | Ch.10(2) | Ch.10(3) | Ch.10(4) | Ch.10(5) | Ch.10(6) | Ch.10(7) |

Ch.11: The Hyuga clan (1)

Hinata wakes late in the morning. She takes her time leaving her bed. First she stares at her empty bedroom, then rises on her arms, stands there as the air brushes around her. She doesn’t look at the calendar and keeps her eyes away from the mirror as she brushes her hair looking out to the garden.

A maid comes to check up on her and seeing her awake, informs the guards outside to call for more maids and hurriedly comes and finishes brushing her hair.

They are nice. They chatter and liven up the room and make sure to ask Hinata about her wellbeing and if there is anything -anything at all- that she needs. But what Hinata needs is far away from her grasp and she only smiles and nods and asks for a light breakfast the maids run to get.

The maids leave her with her body freshened, her hair brushed and her kimono comfortably hugging her belly. Neji enters immediately after the last maid excuses herself from the room.

“Lady Hinata,” he greets. He has been a reliable partner now that Naruto is gone, making sure to accompany her, making sure she takes care of herself. Making sure she attends her medical appointments with Sakura. “Lady Sakura is ready to see you.”

Their walk is quiet, and a far cry of those uncomfortable silences that used to fill their conversations in the Hyuga compound. It’s a quietness brought by spending so much time together they have almost lost topics to talk about.

The normal topics, of course, the topics they can share and not feel like they need a confession and a justification to be understood.

Hinata feels ashamed to speak of her past and Neji feels guilty over them. So they rebuild a relationship by putting a mantle over their shared past. The selves they don’t really want to remember.

Why would they? Those times won’t come back and they are better off without them.

Neji helps Hinata go up a set of stairs and Sakura’s pink hair can be seen in the distance, moving towards them with a fast pace and a smile Hinata can’t help but return.

“My lady!”

“Sakura,” Hinata feels herself a little short of breath, but taking into account the size her belly is growing into it is to be expected. Sakura has assured her it is the most normal of changes.

The medic greets Neji as well. His presence growing into everyone in the compound as his role as Hinata’s caretaker has cemented over time. As his care is so obvious they have all bonded over their shared relationship with the clan’s lady. Short nods here and there, the shared of their day’s as they meet each other in the hallways.

Hinata is the first to notice and comment on Sakura’s new feature. “Sakura… wh-what is that?” Sakura tilts her head in confusion and Hinata points to her face. “Your f-forehead-”

“Oh!” Sakura’s hand jumps to her face, “Is it showing already?”

Her hand brushes away her bangs and reveals a diamond shaped tattoo in the middle of her forehead, her eyes look up in an attempt to see what she clearly can’t.

“It looks like a diamond shaped… seal?” ventures Neji and Sakura nods as she lets her hand rest at her side again.

“Correct. Found the technique in one of the scrolls Lord Jiraiya brought this time. I’m just surprised it’s showing already, it’s supposed to be harder, I think- or well, it’s what was written in the scroll. I have yet to read it in full, though, so maybe there’s something I’ve missed.”

Sakura massages her forehead as they come inside her office, offering a seat for Lady Hinata, Neji usually stands near them at a distance. “But hey, I’m not complaining.”

“W-what is it for?”

“Chakra storage, basically. It had a name but I- well, I frankly just skimmed past it, sorry,” Hinata giggles at her honesty and Sakura smiles as she takes a seat in front of her, “It said it was the pinnacle of chakra control or something, so I thought it would be harder to- you know, show results.”

“Your chakra control is formidable, Lady Sakura,” comments Neji, remembering the way she fights with bursts of precisely released chakra from her fists for maximum damage. If her control was lacking the energy would just run wild inside of her and all that power would probably destroy her from within. He wonders who trained her and how, even he would have trouble managing all of that output at once. But he is a Hyuga first, so-

“Who t-trained you?”

Neji has to bite down the snort that threatens to spill forth.

“Mainly Lord Minato, but Lady Mito and Lord Jiraiya helped me too, after I was capable of becoming a sparring partner to the lord, he also gave me some pointers.”

Hinata keeps her hands to her sides as Sakura’s glowing hands caresses her belly.

“Well… Lord Minato did always tell me that I had a gift with chakra control, but I always assumed he was being nice,” her green eyes lock with Hinata’s and they crinkle, “I guess he was right.”

“I w-would say so, too,” Hinata says, full of conviction. Sakura thins her lips and whispers a thank you that makes her feel warm all over.

“How much chakra can you store?” Asks Neji then, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes scanning the ground around them.

“Years’ worth, it said. I have a couple of months now, but I’m not stopping.”

Neji looks solemn the next moment, lost in his thoughts, “that’s good.”

Sakura agrees. Whatever adds something to them. She senses Lady Hinata’s increasing worry in the way her eyes travel from her to Neji, so she changes subjects with a chirp in her voice. “There were also a bunch of new scrolls about healing techniques,” Lady Hinata’s eye open with curiosity, but then Sakura remembers immediately after how this topic could lead to Lord Naruto’s wellbeing, so she keeps on talking, “nothing about pregnancy, sadly, my lady, but as always, I can assure you that I have done my research and studying.”

Her hands leave Lady Hinata’s stomach and the lady’s hand cover the empty space immediately after. “I know,” she whispers and her thumb gives her pregnant belly a rub, “I t-trust you, Sakura.”

Lady Hinata looks like the epitome of a pregnant woman now. Round belly, motherly looking. The soft and kind expression mothers ought to wear. Sakura is glad this child will have a mother like that.

“I will do my best to answer to your expectations, my lady.”

Hinata gets flustered and Sakura pokes fun at her for being so nice the next second. What a lovely lady, they have. What a lovely wife her master has. Sakura can’t help but remember hushed worries, whispered secrets, and seeing her lady now in front of her, full of… everything that was denied to her master before, is enough to make her feel emotional.

Everything is all right with the lady. Everything is all right with the child.

“I’m sure the lord will be happy when he comes back,” Sakura assures, and she can see the worry in her lady’s eyes.

But Sakura can vouch for this particular topic. Naruto will be happy.

•····························•····························•

Lady Hinata looks a little too in her thoughts that week. She spaces out and more often than not Neji has to repeat whatever he was saying for him to get an answer.

Not that he minds doing so. But it is an issue that nestles inside his mind, so one afternoon, after their walk, as he pours a refreshment for Lady Hinata, he asks.

“Is there something worrying you, my lady?”

Lady Hinata says nothing, so Neji knows it is something important.

She sits with her feet dangling off the hallway near her bedroom, one hand on her belly, the other swirling her drink with conscious effort. Neji sits, too, near her but not close, far away but not distant.

“If it is something you don’t want to share-”

“It’s a b-boy.”

Her hand moves up to her mouth, as if the words came out without her permission, but there is no pain behind the action, there is no worry in the air. Just… resignation.

“Does Lord Naruto-?”

“Sakura, you and m-me are the only ones who k-know.”

Neji closes his mouth. Undeserving, is the only word that fills his mind at first. He feels he pushed Lady Hinata to share this information. If she had wanted then she would ha-

“Neji…”

“Yes, my lady?”

“I… I’m scared…” Her voice is a whisper, drowned out, the wind around her sounds louder than her.

Neji is sitting at a proper distance one moment and the next he is right beside her, her hand on hers. “Don’t be. Lord Naruto will love the child and you know it.”

Because she did, right? If anyone knew him as a man and father it was her and it was enough to see Lord Naruto around Lady Hinata to know how much the man loved her and the child- It was a love they had never known, sure, but it was so clear, so strong that even Neji could swear on it.

“That’s not…” Hinata takes her time with her words, as emotion fills in and pushes around her, “that just m-makes it harder, d-doesn’t it? What Naruto h-had to go through...”

“My lady…”

Hinata sips on her drink in an attempt to keep her feelings in check, but Neji’s concern shows so clearly it strikes a chord inside of her she can’t control. Her chin trembles and she only has time to let her glass on the floor before a tear falls down her cheek.

Neji is right there, with a tissue she doesn’t know where it came from dabbing at her face. It only makes the tears fall heavier.

“My lady…”

Hinata doesn’t intend to bare herself in front of her cousin this way, had always thought this confession would be shared in a boring afternoon, after they had shared the updates of each other’s lives, almost like an afterthought. Neji, you know-

“Th-thank you for being h-here.”

Neji’s hand stops. His whole body freezes. No.

And now that Hinata has let her mind free, she can’t stop it.

“Th-thank you for not h-hating me like e-everyone else…”

Neji feels like he can throw up. The disgust that creeps up on him as Lady Hinata is the one thanking him for…

“Lady Hinata, please-” her face lifts up and stares at him and Neji has never felt so vulnerable and ashamed. He had entertained the idea, had imagined a scenario in which his cousin didn’t resent him like she should, had dreamed of earning the chance of being able to do something more than be a bad memory. “don’t... “ his hand wipes the tears that stain her cheeks. Half his body is screaming for him to reject whatever chance of forgiveness Lady Hinata offers and hide away and forever, his shame dying with him. The other half is eager to catch this chance, hungry for something he has learned too late, so alien he barely knows how to handle it.

Lady Hinata, even after all she had gone through, was able to keep on loving her father, and if she could do that to a man like that… Neji was kept up at night sometimes, would she have the same deference with him? Would that be possible?

He didn’t know he would feel like screaming in pain when given this opportunity.

“I… realized too late- I... do not deserve this opportunity.” His hand trembles and he is barely holding hers, but she grabs onto him, not with strength, but firm. If he lets go, she will let him. “If… you are willing to give me this chance, then I- whatever you may need, whatever you may ask, I will-”

Lady Hinata shakes her head, “No, I want… not as a s-servant but as my f-family…”

Neji feels hot running down his cheeks, and he can only nod. “Okay.”

“Okay,” she repeats, her head falls to his stomach and Neji moves closer. Her hand on his hand, his other arm awkwardly surrounding her.

“I will be right behind you, then,” he swears and Hinata nods against his clothes. The closest they’ve been, the most vulnerable they have ever been with each other.

“I don’t think we have ever hugged, ever,” he adds.

Lady Hinata snorts and her shoulders shake, her breath warm against his body. Neji rubs circles at her back, “I’m right behind you.”

#naruto #naruhina #Naruto Uzumaki #Hinata Hyuga #uzumaki naruto #hyuga hinata #fanfiction #fanfic #beast tamers #ch.11 #part 1 #mah babies #have a great one and see you next week!

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ohhmyheart5678 · 4 years ago

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When in the streets of seoul (5)

*warning* this mentions death, murder, suicide, guns, and other gruesome and dark content if you are sensitive to these kinds of things do not read it

Pairing: Chan x female reader

Word count 2.1k

Previous/ next

*****

It's been six days, six day fucking days since I've been trapped here. I absolutely hate it. I spent the first three days not speaking to anyone and the other three finally excepting the fact that this is going to be my life now.

It's such a nice place. I get fed the best foods, I sleep in the most comfortable king sized bed with silk sheets, I have the best clothes, and I'm still miserable.

I went to the speaker and pressed 1. "Kinely ! You need something?" Chan sounded quite concerned. He believed that I had everything I needed but he forgot one thing. "I need to go to the store" I say sharply. Even though the deal was that I wasn’t able to go in public he haven't let me out of this room yet.

He says I'm not cooperating and so I have to wait. "What do you need from the store that I can't get for you?" I could hear the slight annoyance in his voice but he could never be as annoyed as I am right now. I mean he is keeping me hostage for Christ sake. "Just take me to the store you dickhead" I was honestly so done with him.

I needed to get out this room and I needed to go to the store ASAP. "I'm not going to the store because you won't tell me what it is" Chris was trying to put his foot down but little did he know I was far better at this game than he was. "Look I need pads either you take me to get them, or you can suffer the consequences of trying to find the perfect pads for me which I guarantee that you won't and then you'll have to take me to pick them out anyways, or we can always go with the option of me bleeding everywhere" there was a long pause before he finally responded.

"Fine I'll take you to the store" was all he said before it went completely silent. I waited patiently by the door until a boy comes in. "Hey seugmin did Chris send you for me" he just gives a simple nod. "Felix and I" he simply says while fully opening the door that he was standing in just enough to show his body. Once he swung open the door it revealed Felix. The orange haired boy waved at me.

Since staying here Chris has sent the boys at least once so that they could introduce themselves since I'm gonna be seeing a lot more of them. I've learned about what these boys do. Since I had nothing better to do the least I could do was steal information on the guys I'm going to be living with from now on.

For instance Chris is the oldest and the leader. He calls the shots, he looks over the plans, and makes sure everything runs smoothly he does need to do much work but Felix says Chris is the last resort and that he’s feel bad for anyone if Chris was called in. Then there's Minho. He is one of the main men on the field he's the look out and distraction, and supposedly from what I heard he does a damn good job at it. Plus Minho has a medical background so if anyone gets hurt he’s the man everyone goes to.

There's also changbin he's got quite the temper so they use him when there's need for extreme measures you know if they need .. a mess. I heard he can get pretty creative with that stuff.

Hyunjin, who often checks on me throughout the day is the sniper. He knows weapons like the back of his hands and could handle them blindfolded. Then it's Jisung, they call him Han. He is the best fighter in the house. You can have a gun in the fight and he could still win.

Felix known as the second Aussie of the house does the interrogations. He can get anyone to talk, his deep voice scares mostly anyone , but for the ones that are harder to get through. Let's just say they can either come out alive while missing some part of their body. Or they can come out in a body bag.

Seugmin is the hacker, he can hack into litterally anything. You name it, he can hack it. He's the one who got the information on my dad.

Last but definitely not least there's jeongin they all him I.N . He is silent but deadly. The red hair boy is like a ninja. They use him when they want to get the job done quickly but quietly.

We arrived downstairs where Chris was waiting for us at the door. I figured he was already handling business downstairs so he fetched the two boys to get me. "Thanks gentleman I got it from here" it was his nice easy of telling them to go away.

We got into his car and he drives us to a nearby store. I looks around searching for the right ones as he stands behind me trying to figure how the whole process works. I saw the pack I wanted and grabbed two of them. "Ahh now I know for next time" he says as if he has just been enlightened. "Next time?" I wanted to know what he meant by next time.

"Next time its you know... that time, I'll be able to pick out the right ones for you" that’s so aggravating! My only reason to get out the house was once again taken from me. Chan probably could tell that I was slightly disappointed by his statement so he changed it a little , I mean seeing that he’s talking to a hormonal women who’s not necessarily in the best mood at the moment. "I mean unless you'd like to do it for yourself" A small smile slightly appeared on my face as I handed the cashier the goods to ring up. "Is there anything else you want or need from here before we leave" Chris wanted to hurry out of here because this was time he could be spending working at home. "Nope" I was completely content with having what I needed so far.

Once we arrived back home I was instantly sent back to my room. Sitting there in boredom I looked around for some form of entertainment. There was absolutely nothing to do in this room and I was just now realizing it. For the past few days all I've been doing was sleeping and eating , so I didn't stop to think about it . I was too busy being sad about being locked up in a room by a bunch of psychos.

I looked over at the speaker not wanting to bother Chris because I rarely want to even speak to him. I walked over pushing the number 5 on the speaker and hoped this man was in his room.

"Hey kinely are you doing ok?" He genuinely sounded concerned. "Can you come over here please" I knew I didn't have to really ask him because he doesn't mind coming and checking on me anyways but I thought to ask just in case . "Sure just give me a sec" Hyunjin was always in here and even though Chris comes in often to talk to me he's always busy it's only for a few seconds before he goes back to "work".

Hyunjin came within fifteen minutes. He knocks making sure I'm not naked or anything. I think that it was pretty nice of him to do considering the other boys just come in as they please. I mean I know it's your home and all but a girl needs privacy.

"Come in" I yelled from my closet, I had just put on sweats and a hoodie to get a little comfortable. "You sent for me?" He walked in and closed the door behind him. "I was wondering if you could stay in here for a little longer than you normally do? I think I'm gonna go insane in here by myself" he chuckled at me being immensely dramatic. I put the back of my hand on my forehead pretending to be a damsel in distress.

He walked over to my bed and sat on it and patted on it which was his way of telling me to sit down. "Maybe you don't have to stay in here all the time" he seemed like he was getting somewhere but I was yet to follow. "What do you mean?" Was he gonna take me out this house or was I reading this wrong? "Its not much but maybe you could come to my room. There's tons of things to do in there. We just can't let Chan know I'm taking you out considering he wants you in the room." He fidgets a little wondering how I was going to respond to his offer.

Hell yeah I was gonna take this opportunity to leave the room! I had nothing else to do in the looney house. "Why not?" I shrug not wanting him to know just how excited I was. He grabs my head and leads me to his room all the way in the other side of the house.

My jaw dropped once he opened his room door to let me inside. He had arcade games like ddr, those ones when you race on the motorcycle, street fighter and pac man. He had a giant tv mounted on his wall in front of his bed and a wii console which I havent seen in years. "Told ya" he crossed his arms leaning against doorframe while admiring the dumb look of shock on my face.

"Where do we even start?" I was still looking around trying to pinpoint the first thing I wanted to do. "Doesn't matter where we start all you need to know is I'll kick your ass at any game in this room" his cockiness shines through, a side of him I haven't seen since I first met him.

What he didn't know was how competitive I can get "You're gonna be very disappointed when you realize how much you suck compared to me, especially when I beat you in dance revolution" It was on now. I can see a gleam in his eyes and knew he was almost if not just as competitive as I am.

Twelve rounds, six wins , and six loses later. We decided to watch a movie. "How's it feel to loose to someone as amazing as I?" I stood on his bed placing my hand on my hips. I'm sure he's yet to meet someone as dramatic as me. "We both won and lost the same amount of time so I'd say we're equally as amazing if you ask me" hes right about that but this his room and his games that he plays all the time if he didn’t win then it would be embarrassing. Hyunjin pulls my right leg causing me to fall on his bed. "You asshole!" My body had no control over itself. It was bouncing up and down on its own and I couldn't even stop it.

"You were to one who wanted to watch a movie and you can't even sit still" Hyunjin teases while I finally get myself together and sit up all the way in the bed. "Plus you weren't calling me a asshole when I took you out of your room." I gasped while holding my chest. "Oh how dare you?" I squinted my eyes at him and he laughed at me.

I must admit I haven't felt this good in a few days. I almost forgot that I was being held against my will but the thought is always in the back of my mind. I finally settle down and Hyunjin was nice enough to let me choose the movie I wanted. So here we were, on the bed watching a movie. For comfort I lay my head on his shoulder and her wraps his wraps around me.

I felt relaxed and almost safe. Soon I fell asleep with the movie playing in the background. Hyunjin was staying still trying not to wake me up. In fact so still that he ended up falling asleep himself.

I just needed to wake up on time before Chris realizes that I'm gone.

Previous/next

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 4 years ago

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What if... 10c

First off, right away, I know some were looking forward to a Mandorin wedding and Grogu joining them, but truth be told, the What If story would have ended up on 500k too if that was to happen, because the boys are still so very young and I love exploring their lives and their first times for everything too much to do a big time jump... So my deep apologies to the ones who were waiting for that, but hope that some sweet teenage feels can soothe the disappointment a little. And, yeah, while we might not reach that point in this fic, of course these two got married and adopted the little bean, just a bit later on in life <3

Second, this is a monster so beware of a chaotic mess of plenty of POVs behind the cut. The main story was Dulcy’s but here she shares it with the others. Beware of feels and maybe a familiar face or two ;)

And, again, THANK YOU to the supporters of this fic. I appreciate every kudos, re-read every comment a worrying amount of times and cherish the reblogs like beskar! (You guys have some of the best tags ever xD )

And Sprungich, this chapter is for you! <3 With the lovely coffee you provided, feel free to send me a message if there is a particular one-shot you would like to see happen! <3

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10a Part 10b

Epilogue Everyone:

They have six entire months of just blissful happiness and fawning over their new family member, then Zev disappears. Again.

Dulsissia hates when she does that, but Davarax knows there is little they can do about it, except let her know that she’s always welcome home.

After nine days without a word, Zev’sonya reappears.

Standing right outside the entrance door, her face a mask of defiance as usual, Zev sticks her chin out. “Can my friend stay here too?”

Davarax shrugs. “Are they in trouble?”

“Yeah.” Zev replies. “His family is a bunch of mean jerks. He needs a safe place.”

Instantly filled with empathy, Dulsissia steps up next to Davarax. “Of course, baby.”

“Awesome.” Zev turns and gestures for her friend to step forward. “I said they were cool. Come on.”

Davarax instantly places his hand on his blaster while Dulsissia looks like she wants to scream but she’s too shocked to make any sound.

“This is Mose.” Zev’sonya declares with a grin.

A massive Hutt glares at them.

The silence stretches out until Zev’sonya reaches out and smacks the Hutt across the stomach. “Say hello, idiot.”

“Hello.” Mose grouses. A big drop of drool slides from his mouth.

Struggling to regain her words and the ability to form a comprehensible sentence, Dulsissia looks from one to the other until she ends up back with the Hutt. “Uhm, hello. N-nice to meet you?”

“He stays outside.” Davarax growls, not having that thing anywhere near where his children sleeps.

Zev’sonya frowns, but the Hutt nods and doesn’t seem surprised by the order.

A good thirty minutes later, Dulsissia is shoulder by shoulder with Davarax as they stand there and look out at where Corin and the others are cautiously approaching the Hutt, driven by youthful curiosity and bravery.

“That’s a Hutt.” Dulsissia says.

“Mhm.” Davarax confirms.

They continue to stare for a while, then she speaks again, a little worried this time. “What… what do Hutts eat?”

The size of their new arrival says whatever they eat, there will have to be a lot of it. Davarax is not thrilled at the idea of having to get even more credits to feed a Hutt. “Whatever doesn’t run fast enough, I think.” Davarax mutters. “Better keep an eye on that one, ner riduur.”

Dulsissia studies the Hutt. “He doesn’t seem… evil?”

“He’s a Hutt. I’ve seen what they can do.” Davarax declares in a hard voice. “They have their reputation for a reason.” He lets out a soft breath. “If he hurts one of our kids, he’ll find out that we Mandalorians have ours for a reason too. I will skin him alive.”

“If he hurts any one of them, you will have to get in line.” Dulsissia says. “But he hasn’t harmed anyone yet.”

To Davarax’ irritation, she then walks over to join in on the welcoming committee. She introduces herself, tries to put on her polite smile and only shudders a little at the drool dropping from the creature’s mouth and soaking his belly. “So, tell me, how did you meet our Zev?”

The Hutt gives her a blank stare. “She robbed me. I tried to kill her and she offered me a job.”

Dulsissia blinks. “Oh.”

Zev’sonya grins.

Davarax is not amused.

The day passes, so does the next and soon a week, and the Hutt does not harm anyone or try to eat any of them. Mose mostly keeps to himself. He sleeps in the shed Davarax and Din had set up for the speeder bikes, eats less than what a Hutt normally would and doesn’t really speak unless spoken to.

Davarax doesn’t relax, but he won’t end the Hutt’s life before he gives him a reason to as Zev’sonya really seems attached to him for some reason, almost to the point where he rivals her friendship with Din. So he watches and waits.

While he has trained and taught no small amount of children, Davarax have no real experience with babies. They are mystical beings to him, beautiful little wonders with endless potential, and his daughter is very much that. She amazes him when she starts to crawl around with curious determination to explore the world without any sign of fear. If something scares her, she watches it and frowns, but she will not back away and only cries when in pain.

There are moments when Davarax fears his heart will physically burst with pride.

So the horror he feels when he takes his eyes off his daughter for just a moment to reply to a message from Dulsissia, who is on a supply run with Corin and Din, and finds her gone; there are no words to describe it.

She’s not walking yet, but that little girl crawls at lightspeed when she sees something she wants to investigate and something must have caught her eye.

Davarax runs, panic snapping at his heels when he sees the doors are open to let some of the breeze into the too warm house, and his hand goes to his blaster as he sees his precious daughter having made it just outside the entrance door and is struggling to sit up in front of the massive Hutt standing there.

Nonono! Davarax can’t breathe, the fear is too strong and his fingers fumble at the hilt of his blaster and can’t quite get a grip. He’s never failed to draw his weapon before.

The girl reaches up and makes a curious coo.

Mose eases himself down, watches her for half a second, amused by her grabbing hands, then slowly reaches out and holds out a finger to her, which she eagerly takes a hold of and starts exploring.

Davarax’ panicked run morphs into a slow trot and then an awkward halt. He can’t quite believe what he’s seeing.

Unaware of being watched, Mose’s mouth eases ever so slightly into a faint smile. His big eyes give a slow blink with a benign softness that doesn’t belong in a terrifying and cruel Hutt facing the offspring of the enemy.

And then he notices Davarax.

Mose quickly pulls himself back up into his usual towering posture, but him yanking his hand away unsettles the little girl and she topples backwards.

Another fierce jab of fear cuts into Davarax, but before he can do anything; Mose curls his tail behind her and prevents her from falling. He doesn’t take his eyes off Davarax while he does it, keeps staring, keeps holding himself upright and a big glob of drool soon leaks from the corner of his mouth.

Davarax frowns. He’s starting to put some pieces of a puzzle he didn’t want to see together. That posture is not the Hutt’s arrogance, as Davarax had concluded earlier, this is a defensive pose. This is an intimidation tactic to fend off attacks, not seek them out. And the drooling? Now that he thinks about it, Davarax can only remember the Hutt drooling around him and Dulcy.

-He’s scared. The realization comes sudden and hits hard.

And shortly after it, a question arises. How old is he? Mose is far from the tallest Hutt Davarax has ever seen and his body mass is skinny compared to them, it kind of says oversized teenager or young adult. The life expectancy for a Hutt would make them slow developers, no? He might be older than Davarax and Dulcy put together, but still a kid by Hutt standards, and Davarax never once considered it. A Hutt foundling? That’s one for the legends.

Walking over, Davarax bends down and picks up his daughter, noting how Mose cautiously withdraws his tail and curls it protectively around himself. More drool is slipping from his mouth.

Somehow Zev’sonya had seen this side of Mose, or sensed it somehow, and decided to bring him home instead of leaving him to be devoured by the other Hutts. His baby daughter had shown Mose nothing but curiosity and trust. Davarax decides to do the same. He looks over at Mose, who is barely breathing, and nods towards the house. “You can come in.”

For a second there is confusion on Mose’s face and then he mumbles; “The shed is fine.”

A thick dollop of drool hits the ground with a splat. That’s going to be annoying indoors.

“It’s not. You are a guest here.” Davarax heads inside again but pauses in the doorway. “Come on.”

Mose cautiously does as he’s told. He carefully squeezes in through the door and follows Davarax down the hallway. Eyes flickering nervously from doorway to doorway, drooling non-stop and twitching fingers reveal how uncomfortable he is, but Davarax feels a pinch of actual guilt when he stops by the room he wants to place the Hutt in and he turns around to see Mose no longer going for the towering intimidation pose but actually shrinks and somewhat cowers anxiously. Inside the house, the Hutt is at a disadvantage. His movements are restrained and Davarax is armed.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Davarax reassures him, hoisting his warbling daughter a little. “I know I haven’t been the friendliest and I apologize. I thought that you… Well, I thought wrong. And I’m sorry.” He turns and pushes the button to open the door to the room used for storing furniture. “I’ll get the others to help clear it out, but you can fit in here, right?”

“The shed is fine.” Mose mumbles.

“Yeah, you’ll fit in here.” Davarax then realizes something. “But we don’t really have Hutt beds. Will have to make one.”

“The floor is fine.” Mose mumbles.

“I’ll ask Barthor to set up some calculations. It’s going to have to be strong.” Davarax sighs. “Okay, so what else will we need. Maybe-”

“What’s going on here?” Zev’sonya’s voice is sharp. She stalks forward and places herself between him and Mose.

Davarax nods towards the open room. “We need to get the others and clean this out. For Mose.”

Zev’sonya blinks with surprise and then, for the very first time, she gives Davarax a genuine and bright smile. “Really?”

Momentarily stunned by the sweet, happy side of her, usually hidden behind frowns and scowls, Davarax has to clear his throat. “Yeah. Really. We can’t have guests sleeping out in the shed.”

“The shed is fine.” Mose mumbles.

“I’ll get the others.” Zev’sonya declares and runs off.

Davarax watches her, gives a faint shake of his head in amazement, then looks over at the awkward and heavily drooling Hutt. He sighs with a faint smile. One more troubled youngster. Why not.

Barthor is heading back to his speeder bike after finally getting his hands on the last computer chip he needs for his little project. He’s parked right outside of the small town and it shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes before he’s back home.

It shouldn’t, but it does.

Because as he steps outside the town walls, something wraps itself around his ankles, tightens and he drops like a roped tauntaun.

Training kicks in. Barthor instantly reaches for his blaster and his blade, seconds before he’s rolled over on his back to face his captor.

Blinking surprised, Barthor forgets to draw his weapons.

“Hello.” A voice says.

“Uh…” Barthor replies. “Hello?”

“They say you are very clever. Is that true?”

Barthor doesn’t do modesty. “I suppose so.” He gives his restrained ankles a pointed look. “Is that why you roped me? To ask me if I’m clever?”

“Maybe.” There is a flick of a wrist and the rope loosens so he can free himself. “Your friends seem more brawn than brain, which made me curious about you.”

Barthor gets up, a little tense. “They’re more clever than this entire town put together.”

“Loyal too?” A thoughtful hum. “You really are interesting, Barthor.”

“Wait. How do you know my name.” Barthor takes a step forward as they step away. “W-what’s your name?”

“Kaleo.”

“Do you have to go?” Barthor shrugs a little. “You can’t just rope some guy, ask him if he’s clever, insult his family and then walk away without an explanation, you know?”

A soft laugh. “I told you; I find you interesting.”

“The feeling is mutual…” Barthor mumbles. Then he twitches when they step away again. “Can I see you again?”

“Sure.”

“When?”

“When you find out where I live.”

Puzzled, Barthor shakes his head. “Why can’t you just tell me?”

“Because you’re the clever one.” Is the reply. “You’ll figure it out.”

With the constant adding to their family, it comes as quite the shock when they lose one.

Davarax, Din and Paz are at a marked on the neighbouring planet when Din suddenly goes from half-asleep to full alert and shaking with eagerness.

Before Davarax can ask him what is going on, Din runs off.

It’s not difficult to track him down and when he does, Davarax instantly realizes why Din had reacted the way he did. He remembers the clothing on the corpses that littered the streets where he’d found Din and the man talking to Din right now is wearing that very thing.

It’s Din’s tribe. What’s left of it, anyway.

It’s a handful of people who have set up some stalls at the end of a marketplace. A couple of kids are running around in outfits similar to the one Din had worn when Davarax had brought him back to the Covert that first time.

Din is talking in a language he barely remembers, struggles a bit with the words and pronunciation, but the smile on his face is something Davarax can count on one hand he’s seen in the Covert. And when they go back home, there is a distance in his eyes that wasn’t there before and a heavy sadness settles in the pit of Davarax’ stomach.

Back home, Din instantly seeks out Corin to tell him about what had happened and for once he is the one eagerly talking while Davarax and Paz exchange quiet looks.

For the next week, Davarax spends no small amount of hours checking out the story of these people wearing clothes from Din’s tribe. He stalks and spies and learns as much about every individual as possible. He has to know they are who they say they are. He has to know they are good people.

They are.

Meanwhile, Dulsissia hugs Corin a little closer and a little more often that week, unable to explain to him why because she has a weak hope that she, Paz and Davarax might be wrong.

They’re not.

Din wants to go back and talk to them again and once he does, he learns that they are about to leave for the next planet on their path. After losing their home, they lead a rather nomadic life, searching for others from their tribe and lost relics to reclaim. They ask if Din will join them.

“Please don’t go…” Corin asks, tears in his eyes, holding on to Din’s arm as if he would float away into space if he didn’t.

“It’s just six months.” Din reassures him. “Then we are coming back here a-and we could-”

“What if we’re gone by then?” Corin blurts out, absolutely miserable.

“Then I’ll find you.” Din promises, reaching out and placing his hand behind Corin’s neck. “I’ll find you, okay?” He leans in and rests his forehead to his. “Stay safe. Look after the others. And we’ll talk again in six months.”

Silent tears running down his face, Corin gives a faint nod.

Din walks over to Dulsissia and lets her hug him, kiss his hair, squeeze his face and kiss his forehead with a patience he’s never show before. He even holds on to her a little longer than usual. Paz is furious and refuses to utter a word. Raga mutters for Din to look after himself. Zev’sonya is nowhere to be found. Barthor gives him a brief hug and wishes him luck.

Davarax waits a small distance away from the others. When Din walks over to him, Davarax has to clear his throat to speak. “You got everything you need?”

Din nods.

A heavy silence hangs between them for a moment before Davarax tells him in a quiet voice; “If you change your mind, if something happens, if… if anything, you send me a message and I’ll come for you. Day, night, one day from now, one week or a month, it doesn’t matter. You always have a place here, Din.”

Din nods and looks away, trying to hide the tears in his eyes.

Davarax hesitates before speaking again. “Din, I…” I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I failed you.

Din looks back at him.

“Be careful out there.” Davarax says, hating himself for his cowardice. “And remember, if you need us, if you need me, I’m here. Always.”

Din nods again, a couple of tears breaking free and he turns and stalks towards where his tribe is waiting for him.

Dulsissia absently pulls Corin close as he heaves for air between the tears.

Paz turns and stalks back on board the Razor Crest, Raga follows, then Barthor, Dulsissia and Corin. Davarax is the last to leave, his eyes on Din for as long as he can see him...

Corin’s heart is broken. His best friend is gone. No, not just best friend… He and Din was… Whatever they were, it was special. It was not like anything he’s ever felt for or with anyone else.

A heavy sadness settles over their family for a long, long time. They all miss Din and it feels like they are missing a limb.

His parents find distraction in his sister. Paz and Raga find comfort in each other. Zev’sonya runs off and does whatever she does. Barthor keeps heading into town to be with this Kaleo person. Corin is the only one who can’t stop thinking about how Din isn’t there any more.

None of the girls and boys in town can take his mind off Din. Nothing can.

Which is probably why Davarax agrees to let Corin come along on a bounty hunting job. Usually he goes alone on these, but Corin asks and after a brief discussion with his mother, Davarax agrees.

“You do as I tell you. Understand? This is a hunt and they will do whatever it takes to escape. Including shooting us.” Davarax warns Corin as they enter the city to find their bounty.

“I understand.” Maybe getting shot at might cure the numb feeling inside?

It does. Once the first blaster shot flies by him, Corin yelps and flails and forgets all about being sad. He has to focus on surviving instead.

Davarax goes after their prey like a Corellian hound. Corin has gotten so used to seeing his mild and calm side that he’d almost forgotten how dangerous and brutal his dad can be if he wants to.

They chase after their bounty into an abandoned building so worn down it is barely standing.

“Stay here.” Davarax orders and uses his jetpack to fly up the middle of the winding stairs.

Corin stays, but when he leans forward against the railing to look up to see if Davarax had caught his prize; the railing just gives in and Corin falls.

Luckily he doesn’t drop more than a floor before he slams into the ground, but it’s enough to knock the air out of him and scramble his brain for a bit. (If not for his helmet, his brain would probably have been scattered all across the floor…)

When his blurry sight clears up, Corin realizes that what he thought were white pillars are moving and he rolls over on his back with a startled sound to see the storm troopers walking towards him. He fumbles for his blaster, but a kick to his hand sends the weapon sliding across the floor and then a storm trooper is pointing their blaster right at his t-visor.

Corin closes his eyes and prepares to die.

“Wait.” One of the troopers says. “Wait. Stop. Wait.”

Corin opens one eye and sees one trooper grabbing the arm of the one aiming at him.

“Look. That’s a kid.” The trooper preventing the other from shooting says. “You can’t shoot a kid, man.”

“He’s right.” A third trooper says, appearing next to them. “We don’t shoot kids, remember?”

“But this one has seen us.” The one with the blaster growls.

“The kid is not going to say anything.” The one who had prevented him from shooting says, then turns to Corin. “Right? You’re not going to say anything? You never saw us, kid. Right?”

Corin nods. Sure. Whatever. He’ll agree to anything as long as they don’t shoot him.

“Put the weapon down, Pat.” The third one says and takes off his helmet. It’s a man in his early twenties with dark hair and tired eyes. “Listen, kid, I’m sorry. We thought you were someone else. You run along.”

Growling, the one called Pat reluctantly holsters his blaster. “You better be right, Dee. If this kid gets us killed, I will never forgive you.”

The one who had stopped him from shooting reaches out a hand towards Corin. “Come on, kid. Upsy daisy.”

Dazed, not sure what the right thing to do is, Corin slowly reaches out and lets him pull him up on his feet. “T-thank you…”

“Don’t worry about it, kid. But you better get out of here.” The man says.

Dee puts his helmet back on. “Drop is right. Go.”

Corin takes one step, but then something heavy lands behind him.

“There you are, little Mando.” It’s the twi’lek man Davarax had been hired to hunt down.

Pat reaches out, grabs Corin’s shoulder and yanks him towards him and the others. “Stay down, kid!”

A mess of blaster fire follows. Corin is boxed in by white armor as the three take up a defensive stance around him and he can’t see what happens, just hears the battle. It’s over within a minute.

When the storm troopers step away, Corin sees the twi’lek lying there, dead, with a blaster in his hand that he’d meant to use on Corin.

“Someone will have heard that.” Dee says. “We have to get out of here. If the others find us, it’s all over.”

“Do you think we’ll get a trial?” Drop asks with a touch of hysterical humour.

“No. They’ll execute us in this shitty place.” Is Pat’s deadpan reply.

Dee turns back to Corin. “Go. Hurry. You don’t want to be here either if the imperial army decides to check out this place. And be careful.”

Corin opens his mouth to thank them when another heavy shape lands behind the storm troopers. An arm goes around Dee’s throat and he’s yanked back against unforgiving armor while Davarax lifts his blaster to fire at Pat. Drop instantly draws his own blaster.

“No!” Corin runs to stand between them, his helmet nearly touching the muzzle of Davarax’ blaster. “Don’t shoot them!”

Davarax hesitates, ignoring Dee’s wheezing attempts to pull his arm away from his throat. “Corin, what is going on here?”

After the explaining is done, Davarax reluctantly lets go of Dee, who stumbles forward into the protective grasp of his friends and coughs there for a moment while Davarax yanks Corin over to his side just in case.

“What are three storm troopers doing down here?” Davarax asks, suspicious.

“I think they are deserters…” Corin replies, looking at the three. “Am I right?”

“Hand the kid a medal.” Drop says with a wry smile in his voice. “Correct on the first try.”

Corin looks up at Davarax. “They can’t stay here. We have to help them, dad. Please?”

Davarax sighs.

And that is how he not only returns home with credits for a successful hunt and a revitalized Corin, but also with three ex-storm troopers in the cargo hold of the Razor Crest.

Dulsissia brings their daughter to greet them when the ship lands, only to freeze at the sight of what follows her husband and son off the ship.

“It’s okay, mom.” Corin reassures her. “They’re good guys. They saved my life.”

Dulsissia swallows down her fear and forces herself to put on a smile. As much as she hates that armor, she cannot hate men who has saved her son. “Then I am in your debt, sirs.”

While Davarax walks over and holds out his arms as the little girl eagerly reaches out for him, the storm troopers line up next to the ship and remove their helmets.

“Your son saved our lives in return, so I figure we are even, m’am.” Dee says.

Pat nods. The tallest of the three and with a semi-permanent scowl on his face.

Drop is staring at Dulsissia. “That is true. And something else that is true is the fact that you have to be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, my lady. You don’t happen to need a new father to your charming son here?”

Davarax looks up from the toddler in his arms and his t-visor locks on Drop. “I think I changed my mind. I’m going to shoot you after all.”

Drop’s eyebrows flies up. “Oooh. You two are…? Oh. Ah. My bad.”

Flattered, Dulsissia smiles at Davarax. “I like these guys.”

Davarax grunts. “Yeah, I’m definitely shooting them.”

He doesn’t. Instead, the three are allowed to spend the night in the house and Davarax and Corin will head into town tomorrow to get them other clothes so they won’t be shot on sight. But the evening is spent with Davarax and Dee talking for hours over some strong smelling drink, speaking quietly and solemnly.

Corin tries to eavesdrop, but he keeps getting distracted by Drop constantly trying to cheat to win the second round of the boardgame he had challenged just about everyone to join in on.

Paz, Raga and Barthor had all been a little bit taken back when three storm troopers walked into the house, but then Paz shrugged and decided to just go with it as it wasn’t the weirdest thing he’d experienced since leaving the Covert. Raga and Barthor couldn’t ague against that.

Zev’sonya and Mose have no opinion as they have disappeared again. Corin wonders what Din would think. He hates storm troopers. Din would probably never allow a storm trooper to stay with him.

The next day, in town, looking for clothing that will fit the men, Corin is not prepared to make another friend in such a short time.

“Hi.” A voice says as Corin tries to decide between two different leather jackets for Dee and it startles him into jumping around to face the culprit.

The owner of the voice is a brightly smiling blond boy around Corin’s own age. He is broad shouldered and clearly no stranger to staying in shape, but his incredibly cheerful attitude drowns out almost everything else about him. “You need help with that? Go with the left one. Way cooler.”

Corin blinks. “O-kay… Thank you?”

“No problem.” The boy steps closer. “I’m Leo. What’s your name?”

“Corin…” Corin decides Leo is right. The left one ‘is’ way cooler. He hangs back the other. “I haven’t seen you around here before?”

“I’ve just arrived with my family.” Leo happily shares. “My mom brought my dad to this place. He’s sick. There’s a doctor here that they say can help him.”

“Oh…” Corin shudders at the idea of either of his parents getting sick and it must be horrible not to have any friends in a new place during such a time. “So, uh, I’m looking to buy my, uh, uncles some clothes. All three of them. For their birthday. Today.”

Leo frowns a little. “They’re all born on the same day?”

“They’re triplets.” Corin lies with a tense smile. “You wanna help me pick out the rest?”

Brightening again, Leo coughs once and then nods eagerly. “Sure. Yeah. Awesome.”

Dulsissia is relieved to notice that things improve a little after that. The former troopers are eager to abandon their armor, which Davarax throws out of the airlock somewhere in space, and Dulsissia is pleased to discover a house for rent not too far away from their own where they can hide out and decide their next move. (Dee swears to pay them back and will not hear of anything else.)

Plus her son has made a new friend who seems to be able to cheer him up again, which makes Leo a very welcome guest in her eyes.

Paz bullies Leo a little but loses interest when it’s like kicking a defenceless Porg. Raga and Barthor both treat him with mild indifference. Davarax appears a little overwhelmed by the boy’s enthusiasm and habit of holding on to an uncomfortable subject, but her baby boy is finally laughing again and that is music to Dulsissia’s ears.

A little over two months pass before the next incident occurs.

At the shooting range they had set up behind the house, Dulsissia aims her blaster at the target despite little hope of actually hitting it as long as Davarax’ mouth is on her neck and his hand slides across her stomach to urge her to lean back against him. She fires and misses and doesn’t care as that gives her the excuse to twist around a little to making him move his lips up to hers.

Dulsissia knows how important it is to be improving her aim, but her husband is so incredibly attractive, sweet, kind, caring and the best kisser ever, so…

Davarax suddenly pulls away to prod at his vambrace. “Sorry, I…” He prods some more before stalking over to pick up his helmet. “Just…”

Dulsissia waits while he puts his helmet back on and listens to the message he’d just received. Whomever had contacted him had to be someone of importance for him to react like this, so she feels worry instead of annoyance at the interruption.

A little while later, he removes his helmet and Davarax sends her a wide-eyed look. “It’s Din.”

“Din?” Dulsissia’s worry triples. “Is he okay?”

“Yeah.” Davarax replies, sounding a little dazed. Then a faint smile appears. “He wants to come home.”

Getting Din back feels wonderfully right. Dulsissia feels no small amount of relief seeing the teenager again and find him looking healthy and unharmed. He even smiles when Paz hugs him a little too hard.

Everyone except the absent Zev’sonya and Mose are eager to welcome him home, especially Corin. Her sweet son has been climbing the walls since he heard Din was coming back and finally the two are reunited again.

“So much has happened while you were gone.” Corin declares. “Nemi is starting to walk. Barthor keeps sneaking off on dates with this person he thinks we don’t know about. I went on a bounty hunting mission with Dad and met these three awesome dudes who saved my life and are now our neighbours. And I can’t wait for you to meet Leo! Mom said I could invite him for dinner so you can say hello.”

“Our dear neighbours are coming over to dinner as well. I invited them.” Dulsissia adds, with a touch of glee as it makes Davarax groan. She knows he gets along really well with Dee, but Pat is too tense to relax around and Drop winds the youngsters up even more than hyper-sugar.

Din exhales with a faint smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I guess I missed out on a lot, huh?”

Paz reaches out and smacks the back of his head. “That’s what you get for leaving, idiot.”

Deliberately falling behind a bit while the teens stalk towards the house, Dulsissia hoists the toddler on her arm before looking over at the quiet Davarax walking next to her. He’s watching Din.

“Did he tell you why he wanted to come back?” Dulsissia asks.

“No.” Davarax replies, sounding uncomfortably solemn. “He hasn’t said much of anything.”

“You think they were mean to him?”

“No.” Davarax says again. “He wasn’t angry or scared or resentful or… or anything. Sad, if I was to make a guess. But he was quite determined to leave.” He sighs. “If he wants us to know, Din will tell us in his own time.”

Dulsissia hopes he’s right.

They are going to have to move. The house is nowhere near big enough for all the souls who have come into their lives, but Dulsissia realizes that she’s going to miss this place. She’s grown so very fond of it. There are so many good memories here. And they keep creating more.

Barthor is sitting by the kitchen table with Nemi on his lap, keeping her entertained and hiding from the lively ruckus in the living room where there is far too much activity and far too many people for his taste.

Dulsissia is mixing up some treats on a plate when Davarax appears to hover in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Need some help?” He asks.

“No, but thank you for asking, cyare.” Dulsissia replies. She glances back at him. “Things okay in there?”

Davarax leans his shoulder against the door frame and sighs. “I think having Drop and Leo in one room might cause a black hole to appear. That kind of energy is not natural.”

Giggling a little, Dulsissia adds some fruit to the plate as well. “Leo is a sweetheart.” She glances back at Davarax again and sees Paz hovering behind him and trying to sneak into the kitchen but is being blocked by the man. “And Drop is always welcome in our house.”

It’s mean of her to tease but it is kind of flattering to see Davarax’ eyes narrow a little as he’s reminded of how interested Drop had been at the very first sight of her. Dulsissia purses her lips thoughtfully. “I wonder how he got his nickname?”

“Probably because his parent dropped him on his head while he was a baby.” Davarax mutters.

This is when Paz loses patience, wraps his arms around Davarax’ waist and simply picks him up.

What follows is probably the most hilarious thing Dulsissia has ever seen in her entire life.

The raw shock and utter disbelief on Davarax’ face as his arms and legs flail while he’s unceremoniously moved to the side and set back down again is something she will remember until the day she dies. Even after Paz has set him back on his feet and simply saunters into the kitchen to find himself something to drink, Davarax stumbles away from him and glues his back to the wall, looking horrified. He’s not a small and frail man, by far, and probably hasn’t been lifted since he was a child. If anything, Davarax is the one to pick other people up and move ‘them’ out of his way.

But Paz is now quite a bit taller than him and he’s gaining muscle by the day. Davarax watches him warily as he saunters back out and even takes a step away so not to risk humiliation again.

“Welcome to my world.” Barthor mutters.

Dulsissia breaks down laughing, wishing she had a way to immortalize the look on Davarax’ face.

Din greets Dee, Pat and Drop with polite distance, but he does brighten a bit when, to Dulsissia’s surprise, Zev’sonya and Mose suddenly appear in the doorway.

“I heard you were coming back.” Zev says with a grin, reaching out a hand towards Din, and they pull each other close for a brief hug/bump against each other.

“I had to come back and make sure you stay out of trouble.” Din replies with a grin of his own.

Over by where Dulsissia and Corin are sitting, Leo grabs her son’s arm with a soft gasp. “Is that your sister?” Unlike the gawking ex-troopers, he seems oblivious to the Hutt standing there as well.

Corin looks over at where Zev’sonya is bragging to Din about whatever she and Mose have been up to, nothing legal would be Dulsissia’s guess, and Corin makes a face. “No. She’s, uh, it’s complicated. She kind of lives here with us. Sometimes.”

Leo can’t seem to take his eyes off her. “Dude, you got to introduce me to her.”

Corin frowns. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to marry her.”

Corin looks somewhere between amused and genuinely scared for Leo’s safety and sanity. “Maybe you shouldn’t say that so she can hear it…”

“I’m in love.” Leo breathes, still with his eyes glued on Zev. “Come on, man. Introduce me.”

Corin looks over at Dulsissia, who shrugs. If Leo wants to risk his life, who are they to deny him? And maybe, hopefully, that sweet boy can be a good, calming influence on the troubled girl?

Dulsissia leans back and watches as Corin and Leo walk over and the introduction is made. It’s no surprise that Zev’sonya’s immediate reaction is to scowl and throw her emotional walls up, but Leo isn’t put off. He’s gentle in his approach, careful, like he’s defusing a bomb, but he’s not scared.

Dulsissia is about to smile, but then she sees Din’s face and she doesn’t feel like smiling anymore.

He’s looking at Leo with something dangerously close to hatred in his dark eyes.

When things wind down for the night, Dee, Drop and Pat agree to walk Leo home, despite the blond’s objections that he’s perfectly capable of getting there by himself. Dulsissia sends with them food and snacks, knowing they’re still finding their footing as civilians, and doesn’t know what makes her flush the hardest; Dee’s soft kindness, Pat’s intense respect or Drop’s shameless flirting as they fight to thank her.

She looks over at where Corin and Leo are saying goodbye, the blond making Corin promise to be his best man at his and Zev’s wedding, and the two laugh before Corin gives him a gentle kov’nyn and shoves Leo into Drop’s arms.

Din is nowhere to be found.

After they clean up, one by one they saunter off to their rooms.

Her riduur is one of the last to go. The long journey to get Din had Davarax start yawning early in the evening and now he’s close to falling asleep on his feet, so he only puts up a weak fight when Dulsissia orders him to bed while she finishes up the last bits of the cleaning.

Plus there are a couple of things she has to clear up before she has any chance of finding sleep.

Dulsissia piles food on a plate before heading to the backdoor and stepping outside the house.

Mose is lounging on the grass, staring up at the stars, but he carefully pushes himself up when he sees her approaching him. His gaze flicker cautiously from the plate to her face and back again.

“Here.” Dulsissia holds the plate out for him. If someone had told her that she’d be worrying over the well-being of a Hutt when she was younger, she would have laughed her head off. “I noticed you didn’t eat much earlier. You got to be hungry.”

Mose hesitates before slowly reaching out and accepting the plate. “Thank you.”

But Mose isn’t the only one who is on her mind tonight. “Do you know where Din is?”

Mose lifts his tail and points towards the Razor Crest.

Of course. His favourite place. Dulsissia sighs and pats Mose’s arm as she walks by him on the way to the ship. “Eat up and then get some rest, baby.”

Mose watches her leave in silence.

The Razor Crest’s left ramp, the one out of sight of the house, is lowered and Dulsissia makes her way up it and into the ship. Once inside, she sees Din right away.

He’s sitting on one of the fold-down seats in the cargo hold, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

“Din?” Dulsissia speaks softly, hoping not to scare him. “Are you okay?”

Jolting into an upright sitting position, Din stares wide-eyed at her. “Dulcy. Yeah. Yeah, I-I’m fine.”

He’s lying. It’s obvious. Sighing, she takes a step forward and gestures towards the seat next to him. “Mind if I sit with you for a bit?”

“I don’t mind.” Din looks cornered and almost a bit scared.

Sitting down, Dulsissia looks over and fights the urge to hug him close. “Want to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.” The answer comes a little too fast and his voice is too weak for it to be true.

“You can tell me, baby.” Dulsissia reassures him. “I promise I won’t tell anyone else.”

Din is about to say something but then he pauses and his eyes flicker for a moment before he asks, quietly, cautiously; “You promise?”

Dulsissia places one of her hands over his and gives it a gentle squeeze. “I promise.”

Din hesitates, then takes a deep breath and looks towards the open ramp. “I just thought… I thought that being with my parents people, it would feel like home. I thought I’d finally feel like I belonged. But… I didn’t. All I could think about was going back to you guys.”

Her heart shivers with pain, but Dulsissia is careful to keep her voice free of it. “You left because you didn’t feel like you belonged with us?”

Din turns his gaze down to the floor. “You feel like family to me…”

There is something unspoken at the end there. Dulsissia squeezes his hand again. “But?”

Din doesn’t answer right away. He tenses up and his breathing becomes a bit laboured and choppy, as if trying to fight back a wave of emotions, but eventually he loses and Din looks up at her with tears in his eyes. “He adopted Corin!” The tears begin to slide down Din’s face. “He found me, he saved my life and taught me almost everything I know, but he gave me away to those people and then adopts Corin. What is wrong with me? W-why doesn’t he want me…?”

“Oh, baby…” Dulsissia whispers and gently eases him into leaning over so she can hold him close, running a comforting hand up and down his back while his shoulders shake with grief. “Sweet, sweet baby. There is nothing wrong with you. Nothing. Davarax simply thought you’d be happier with parents who could be with you instead of him who had to leave all the time. And he knew how dangerous his work was. It was not because he didn’t love you. He does.”

“He’s got you, Corin and Nemi now. He has his family.” Din whispers. “If I hadn’t come back, no one would have cared.”

“That’s not true.” Dulsissia argues gently. “We all missed you terribly.”

“Yeah. I saw.” Din’s voice takes on a sharp edge. “Corin missed me so terribly he replaced me with the first cute guy he could find.”

Petting the dark hair, Dulsissia sighs. “Din, Corin doesn’t think of Leo that way at all. They’re just friends. You don’t have to be jealous of Leo, trust me.”

Din pulls back to stare at her with a startled look, despite the tears still making his cheeks shine. “I didn’t mean… I’m not jealous.”

That makes Dulsissia smile a little. “Yeah. You are.” She wipes away a tear from his face. “Leo is a nice boy, but he couldn’t steal Corin away from you even if he wanted to.”

Din flushes and his gaze slides away, too embarrassed to meet hers.

“Din.” Dulsissia makes him look at her again. “You have a home with us. You do belong with us. We all love you.”

That brings a faint smile to Din’s face and he lets her pull him into another hug and this time, he hugs her back.

The conversation helps, but it doesn’t solve everything.

Dulsissia can see the tension to Din’s shoulders and the hint of anger in his eyes at times. And his patience becomes close to non-existent. Especially when it comes to Paz sliding right back into the role as his protector and supervisor.

“You don’t like those.” Paz says as Din reaches for some spicy spinach at dinner. He takes a hold of the tongs and puts some other vegetables on Din’s plate instead. “Here.”

Dulsissia sees the spark in Din’s eyes half a second before he explodes.

“Maybe I’ve started to like them!” Din shouts, making everyone turn to stare at him.

“You don’t like them!” Paz shouts back. “You refused to eat them the day before you left, idiot!”

Davarax glares over at them. “Hey! Tone it down. Now.”

Din grits his teeth and stares at his plate. Paz looks tense enough to want to punch him. But they leave it that. That day.

Because that is just the start. More shouting matches follow and the comments go from angry to mean as the tempers keep growing hotter and hotter.

When Din stalks off after bellowing that he regrets coming back, Dulsissia decides it has gone on long enough as she sees the hurt in Paz’ eyes. She inches over to the boy who now towers over her. “Paz…?”

Exhaling his anger, now just sad and tired, Paz looks over at her. “Yeah?”

Dulsissia puts on her most innocent face. “I was wondering if I could ask you a huge favour?”

He shrugs. “Sure.” While he was rumoured to be sullen and uncooperative at the Covert, Paz has always been incredibly amiable and helpful to her. Her sweet giant boy.

“I’ve been super-busy lately, got a lot of projects going on and with my blaster training and… Well, you know how it is.” Dulsissia lets out a dramatic sigh. “I could really need a little help with Nemi.”

Paz actually smiles a little. “No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I do, actually.” Dulsissia insists, giving him her doe eyes. “I’m serious, Paz. I would really appreciate your help.”

“Why me?” Paz asks. “Why not Davarax or Corin?”

“Davarax, well, I don’t want him to do more than his share. And Corin has his mind on other things these days. If you don’t want to do it, that’s fine. I can probably ask-”

“No. I’ll do it.” Paz shoots in. “No problem. Just let me know what you need me to do.”

Dulsissia almost smiles. She could have had a great career in the Imperial army with her evil genius.

“Cyare?” Davarax’ voice says, half a day later. His voice worrying sweet and high pitched.

“Yes, cyare?” Dulsissia replies, curious.

He steps into the room where she’s doing adjustments on her helmet. “Do you mind telling me why I come home to find that our daughter has been kidnapped by a 6”7 man-child who told me he would, and I quote; knock my helmet off if I woke her up after he just got her to sleep?”

Giggling, Dulsissia wanders over to give him a quick kiss on his stubbled cheek. “I asked him to help out.”

Davarax frowns. “Why? Are you okay? I could-”

“Din and Paz have been fighting a lot lately. Din wants to stand on his own feet and Paz is too overprotective to let him so I decided to defuse things by directing Paz’ paternal instincts over to someone who wouldn’t mind.”

Sighing, Davarax returns the sign of affection and places a light kiss on her forehead. “I love how you love these kids and how you want them all to get along, but those two? With their tempers and stubbornness, I fear they might be doomed to be butting heads while killing anyone who dares to hurt the other.”

Dulsissia fails to hold back a smug smile. “Let’s see, shall we?”

At dinner, Din sends Paz a defiant look as he reaches for the spinach again, ready to erupt the second Paz makes a comment, but ends up having to ease some over on his plate without a word as Paz is too busy tending to Nemi trying to rub her food into her hair to care what Din is doing.

(Din still doesn’t like spinach and ends up just pushing it around on his plate with a frown.)

As days go by, Din tries to provoke one way and the other, determined to show he is the master of his own life and that Paz doesn’t get to tell him what to do, but time and again; Paz is distracted by the child and ends up ignoring Din all together.

Ignoring him little too much, as it turns out. Because one day Dulsissia sees Din stare after Paz’ retreating back as he carries Nemi off to fetch the toys she wants and she sees the sad slump to Din’s shoulders and the lost expression on his face. First Davarax, then Corin, and now Paz, Din thinks he’s lost them all.

Oh no. Her plan is working too well! Curse her evil genius.

Dulsissia considers interfering again, but luckily she doesn’t have time to conjure up another plan before she gets to witness Din inch over to where Paz and her daughter are building with blocks on the floor. Din asks what they’re up to, listens and nods and then cautiously offers to help.

Paz looks up at him, surprised, then lights up and gestures for him to sit down with them.

Together they watch over and help the little one. There is not a single harsh word between them.

“Fine…” Davarax mutters as he comes to a halt next to where Dulsissia is lurking and spying on them. “You win. Your little trick is working.” He nuzzles her neck. “Jedi witch.”

Quietly cackling, offering up her neck, Dulsissia feels unbearably smug. “No trick. Just logic. You Mandalorians really do love to complicate things.”

But Dulsissia’s evil plan do affect another victim when Paz and Raga are in the middle of another make-out session in the living room, which Dulsissia is pretty sure is just to annoy Davarax, and when her daughter makes an unhappy whine, Paz instantly breaks the kiss to see what is going on.

Barthor awkwardly adjusts the child in his arms but she is clearly still not pleased.

“You’re holding her all wrong.” Paz states, taking a hold of Raga’s hips, lifts her off his lap and sets her mindlessly aside so he can walk over to Barthor to show him what he’s doing wrong.

Raga rolls her eyes and flops down to lie on the sofa with a frustrated groan. She sends Dulsissia a glare.

Dulsissia responds with an apologetic smile.

She’s not forgiven.

Pleased that she had managed to salvage the friendship between Din and Paz, Dulsissia decides to take the chance. “Dav?” She speaks into the darkness of the night as the two are curled up together in bed.

“Mmh?” He mumbles against her shoulder.

“You have to talk to Din.”

There is a moment of silence, then Davarax lifts his head to look down at her, what little he can see in the darkness. “Is he okay? What’s wrong? Did he tell you something?”

“I promised not to tell anyone.” Dulsissia replies. “Just… please talk to him.”

Davarax hesitates, then slowly lies back down again. He doesn’t say anything, but he is awake for a long, long time after that.

All it takes is a simple question if Din wants to help him do some repairs on the Razor Crest and Davarax has the boy eagerly trotting along towards what he fears will be a rather uncomfortable conversation. Something is clearly wrong and odds are that it’s Davarax’ own doing.

Davarax has a moment of soft affection when he sees the adoration in Din’s eyes when he looks at the trusty old ship. He might be the only one who loves her as much as Davarax himself does.

They work in the cockpit in silence for a bit until Davarax manages to build up his courage.

Sighing, he wipes his oily hands on a horribly oily rag. “Din?”

“Yeah, yeah, almost done.” Din replies, half-way under the control panel.

“Just… leave it for a bit.” Davarax says. “I want to talk to you.”

Din’s body freezes. He breathes once, twice, then he inches out and looks up at where Davarax is sitting in the pilot seat. His face is awfully pale behind the smudges of oil. “She told you.”

“Nobody told me anything.” Davarax reassures him. “Whatever secrets you have, they are still yours. I just want to make sure you’re okay. A lot can happen in two months.”

Staring at him, studying his face, Din eventually relaxes a little as he can’t see whatever he fears seeing in Davarax’ eyes. He clears his throat, inches himself further out so he can sit up. “I’m fine.”

“You hardly said a word the entire ride back home, Din. You’ve been fighting non-stop with Paz. I barely see you with Corin anymore. You’re not fine.” Davarax says, firm but gentle. “Will you let me help?”

Frowning, Din stares at him and there’s a touch of anger there. “So now you care?”

Davarax blinks, not expecting that. “I always care.” And the snort Din gives at that feels like a slap to Davarax’ face. He reaches out and places a hand on Din’s shoulder, making him meet his eyes. “Din. I care.”

The teenager tries for a defiant stare, but there is hurt there and Davarax realizes this is why Dulcy had told him to talk to Din. Guilt settles on Davarax’ shoulders and weighs him down so hard he can barely breathe. “You think I don’t care? Why? Because I let you leave?”

Din shrugs.

“I didn’t want you to leave, Din. Of course I didn’t. But you wanted to go, you wanted to be with them, and what you want is more important to me than what I want. It wasn’t because I didn’t care.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time you gave me away…” Din mumbles quietly, his gaze dropping to the floor.

Davarax opens and shuts his mouth a couple of times. Oh, the guilt is so heavy it hurts now. “Din, I…” He gently squeezes the boy’s shoulder and makes him look back up at him again. “I’m sorry that didn’t work out. I thought… I just thought that it would be better for you to have a steady family, someone who didn’t leave all the time and who might not come back alive. I wasn’t in a good place back then, Din. But I never stopped caring. I still care. I will always care.”

“You have a new family now.” Din mumbles. “I have no one, because no one wants me.”

“Hey.” Davarax places his other hand on Din’s other shoulder, holding a little too tight but unable to stop himself “My family? You are a part of that. You always will be. Nothing can ever change that. From the very first time I saw you, the second you gave me your trust, you were family to me.”

Din’s eyes grow blank with tears and he smiles a little. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Davarax confirms, then leans a little closer to give him a pointed look. “You’re the only one I’d trust to look after the Razor Crest if I end up parking my slippers for good.”

Din’s smile widens and turns genuine. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Davarax confirms again, now with a faint laugh. He gives him a light shake before he gets up and pulls Din up on his feet too so he can hug him close. Feeling Din’s arms go around him in return and how tights he holds on makes Davarax’ heart shrivel up with even more guilt. “I’m sorry, Din. I’m sorry I let them adopt you. I’m sorry you thought I didn’t care whether you left or not. I’ll try to do better from now on. I promise.”

“S’okay.” Din mumbles, his face buried into Davarax’ chest.

“You forgive me?”

Din nods.

Davarax runs his hand over Din’s smooth hair. He doesn’t deserve his forgiveness after so many mistakes, but that’s not his decision to make. All he can do is try to keep from making more and not have Din regret his kindness. “Thank you.”

Din merely hugs him harder.

When Din and Davarax return to the house, Dulsissia is relieved to hear Din talking like he used to; relaxed and almost playful with his great hero by his side. Davarax is smiling too.

She hides in the kitchen, doesn’t want to interfere, but she’s dying to ask. It takes no small amount of will-power for her to just wait.

Finally Davarax walks into the kitchen.

She turns to face him, about to start talking, when his hands cup her face and he leans down to give her a couple of soft, lingering kisses on her lips, before kissing her forehead and just pulling her into a tight, lingering hug as he sighs.

“Why do you put up with me?” Davarax asks.

“Because you’re hot.” She replies. Then she leans back and looks up at him. “So, you talked to him?”

“Yeah.” Davarax gingerly eases a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Thank you.”

Smiling, Dulsissia goes up on her toes to give him a soft kiss.

Luckily Leo is busy harassing Zev and Barthor is off to be with his mystery date, so Din gets to have Corin all to himself when they head into town to buy some supplies.

A lot has happened in the two months Din has been away, that much is clear by Leo’s arrival and them suddenly having three uncles now (who, Din had been horrified to learn, are in reality three storm troopers who have defected and will be shot if discovered.), yet the biggest change is the one he’s currently witnessing.

“Two? Are you sure I can’t get three for that price, Tahm?” Corin says to the shop-keeper’s daughter. He smiles, holds her gaze and even tilts his head a little. “Pretty please?”

The girl giggles and flushes.

Corin reaches out and slides a finger along her jawline and leans a little closer as he lowers his voice. “Pretty, pretty please?”

Din blinks. Corin is gorgeous. He’s always been a good looking kid, sure, Din isn’t blind and people have been talking, but over time Corin has gone from cute to gorgeous and… he’s clearly aware of it. There is nothing modest about the wink he gives that girl. Or the look he gives the young man who ends up selling them his wares to half of his original asking price.

“What was that?” Din asks as they load the bags up on the speeder bike.

“What was what?” Corin asks in return, fastening one bag.

“That.” Din insists. “Back there. The… that. The thing. You did.”

Corin snorts a laugh before glancing over at Din with a wicked grin. “Making them give me a discount? Leo taught me. It’s easy. You should do it too.”

Din feels his face heat up. “I don’t think I…”

Corin steps over, a little too close, and looks at him with bright, earnest eyes. “You could totally pull if off too, Din.” He touches Din’s jawline with light fingertips and the skin burns.

“I’m not…” Din swallows, his heart racing like crazy. “I’m not pretty. Like you.”

“Are you kidding me?” Corin laughs a little. “Din, you’re beautiful.” He leans in, gives Din a minor heart attack, and gently places his forehead to Din’s before turning back to the speeder bike again.

Din can barely breathe.

“I think that was everything?” Corin says. “Let’s go.” He gets on the bike, looks over at Din when he doesn’t move and raises his eyebrows. “Din?”

“Yeah…” Din croaks, forcing his legs to work. “Okay…” He gets on the bike too.

“No.” Zev snarls. “Go away.”

“Come on.” Leo whines, trailing after her. “One date. If you still hate me after, I will leave you alone. Pretty please?”

“I cannot think of a single thing that would change my mind about hating you, so I see no point.” Zev’sonya declares, chin held high and refusing to look at him.

“I could surprise you.” Leo tempts her. He coughs a couple of times before continuing. “One date, Zev. One!”

Zev’sonya wrinkles her nose. “You’re just going to give me your cold.”

Leo shakes his head. “I’m not-” Suddenly his gaze shifts over to something behind her and he frowns.

By the time she has turned around to see what he’s staring at, Leo is already running towards the three brats ganging up on Mose and trying to provoke him into a fight. By the time she’s caught up with him, Leo has already knocked one of the brats out.

The fight is over within minutes. Once Zev’sonya has made sure Mose is okay, hating how resigned he is to being hated and loving how Leo is huffing with offence on his behalf, she makes her choice.

“One date.” Zev’sonya says.

Leo spins around to face her, eyes huge and jaw dropping. “Really?! Wait, why? Wait, I don’t care.”

“One.” She underlines.

Leo nearly nods his head off and she has to hide the smile threatening to break free.

Din can’t forget about it. Can’t forget about watching Corin flaunting his good looks, the touch of his fingers and the kov’nyn… He can’t forget about it!

For years Corin has been his best friend. He felt so lucky to have him as his friend. He still does. But… it is getting harder and harder to be happy for Corin when others look at him the way Din does when Corin is not paying attention.

And after hearing Corin call ‘him’ beautiful, after having his full attention like that, Din can’t karking forget about it!

Din sits on Corin’s bed, thinking about this, when Corin enters the room again after he’d headed out to raid the kitchen for something to snack on. He returns victorious with a plate of cookies.

Sitting down on the bed as well, Corin places the plate between them and grins. “Mom said no, but then I gave her the eyes and she folded. I am a genius.”

“How… how do you do it?” Din asks, his pulse thrumming under his skin after daring to ask.

“As I said,” Corin inches closer so his knee almost touches Din’s, “it’s easy. All you have to do is keep eye contact.” He looks directly into Din’s soul with those incredible eyes of his. “Add a smile.” His lips curve into a smile that sends a frightful heat into Din’s blood. “And if you really need to bring in the big guns…” Corin reaches out and places his hand on Din’s knee. “...touch.”

Oh, Din swallows hard, struggles to find his voice. “I don’t think… it’ll work if I do that.”

“It definitely will.” Corin reassures him. “Your face? You will get whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?” Din asks, his pulse thrumming in his throat.

“Definitely.”

“Okay…” Din gathers his courage. “Eye contact.” He moves a little closer, so their knees not only touch but cross each other a little. “Smile.” Din forces his mouth to shape into what he hopes is a careful but appealing smile. (He sees Corin’s gaze dart down to his lips for a second and it makes his hear jump.) “Touch…” Din reaches up and carefully cups the side of Corin’s face, runs his thumb along his cheekbone. “Like this?”

A slight flush creeps into Corin’s cheeks. “I, uh, yeah…”

Din is keenly aware of how he’s pushing his luck, but he can’t make himself stop. “Now what?”

Corin is staring at him. “It depends.”

“On what?”

“On what you want?” Corin almost whispers.

Din can’t say it, couldn’t say it to save his life, so he just looks at Corin’s lips with unspoken longing, hating himself for being such a coward. He just fears that if he gets a taste, he won’t survive seeing someone else kiss those lips…

“Okay.” Corin says, as if Din had spoken out loud, and before Din can ask him what he means; Corin leans in, tilts his head and gently touches his lips with his.

Din inhales sharply, startling Corin and causes him want to pull back, but Din’s hand flies up to grab his shoulder and hold him there. And then Din is the one to move closer to touch his lips to Corin’s.

It is such a sweet feeling. Soft, warm, cautious and fragile, and utterly perfect.

“I missed you so much…” Corin whispers, eyes closed and lips brushing his as he speaks.

Din’s throat snares up with a thousand feelings. “I missed you too. All the time.” They share another kiss before he can speak again. “Corin, I… I like you.”

That brings a soft laugh from Corin, startling Din a little into leaning back, but Corin merely grins at him. “I like you too, stupid. I kind of hoped we were past the obvious bit when we started kissing?”

Din’s face flushes hot. “I…”

“I kind of thought you did, was waiting for you to say something,” Corin says, shrugging one shoulder, “but then you left and I thought that meant you didn’t like me after all, but then you came back and… Well… “

“How did you know…?” Din mumbles, dying of embarrassment. He’d been so careful!

That makes Corin laugh again. “It was pretty obvious, Din. Come on.” He leans close again and smirks. “You’re always so nice to me. Not nice like with the others. Extra nice. And… you look at me a lot.”

Din’s face is about to melt off his skull. “I…”

Corin is dangerously close now. “You want to look some more or should we go back to kissing?”

Din stutters.

Laughing, Corin sits back up and grabs a cookie. “I’m sorry.” He munches on the cookie. “I’ll be good.”

Din’s heart is beating a thousand beats a second. He can’t stop staring. “You don’t have to.” He clears his throat. “Be good, that is. You can be… whatever you was just being. That’s… that’s fine.”

Corin lowers the cookie. “Yeah…?”

“I-if you want to.” Din adds cautiously.

Corin eagerly leans closer. “I really, really want to.”

Din grins, a little more confident. “Good.” He moves closer, both of them ignoring the plate tumbling to the floor, reaching up to touch Corin’s face. “Because I really want you to.”

Din is not a good kisser, he knows, it’s not something he has practised too much, but oh Corin is. Din follows his lead, moves his lips as softly and sweetly as he does, and can’t decide whether he’s grateful for Corin knowing how to do this or viciously hating every person who has kissed him. In the end, it doesn’t matter, Din is just weak with happiness.

“Obvious? What do mean it was obvious?” Din snaps, not expecting this kind of nonchalance from Paz when he confessed that he and Corin have become… a thing.

Paz shrugs, adjusting the wrapping around his left hand. “It just was. Everyone could see it.”

“Everyone?” Din asks with utter disbelief.

“Yup.” Raga confirms, delivering some hard hits that has the punching bag make a sound like it is groaning with pain. “Everyone.”

Din sinks down to sit on a crate, stunned by shock and horrible embarrassment. “But you never said anything?”

“I wanted to.” Paz says. “Believe me.”

“But Dulcy told him not to.” Raga throws a vicious punch. “I think she and Davarax have a bet going on which of you would make the first move.”

Din hides his face in his hands and groans.

Zev’sonya cannot believe she’s agreed to this. It was a moment of madness, that’s all. She got carried away after punching those jerks who bullied Mose and that blond idiot just happened to be there with his stupid date request.

What was she thinking?

Zev’sonya sighs as she looks at herself in the mirror. She’s clean, the clothes she’s wearing are whole, all the daggers and blades are hidden, that is good enough, isn’t it? Or do humans have other standards for this… dating thing?

She sees Mose’s reflection as he is standing behind her and scowls at the grin on his face.

“Don’t.” Zev’sonya warns, but his grin only widens so she flees before he can say anything.

Leo had wanted to come and pick her up, but she refused and insisted on her meeting him by his house. Bad enough Mose knows, but if Din and the others learns of this… ‘date’, there would be no end to the comments.

Approaching the house, Zev’sonya is surprised to see Leo sitting on the stairs leading up to it. But the surprise morphs into unease as she feels an intense wave of… sadness wash over her. No, he’s not just sad. It’s more. Deeper. More painful. Zev’sonya pauses in front of him, he doesn’t even notice her presence, and braces herself. “Leo?”

Starting a little, he looks up and when seeing her; he tries to smile. “Hey.” The boy is pale, there are dark smudges under his eyes and he looks miserable under his facade. “I, uh, I’m sorry, Zev. I know I hassled you for this date, but, uh… I don’t think I can go.”

Frowning, Zev’sonya crosses her arms. “What happened?”

Leo’s smile wavers. He swallows a couple of times before he can speak. “It’s, uh, it’s my dad, he…” Another swallow. “He died.”

That’s what she’s feeling from him. Grief. Zev’sonya exhales, forgetting about being angry and defensive and she merely moves to sit down next to him. “I’m… I’m sorry, Leo.”

He nods, turns to stare at the ground again. “We knew it was a long shot. They said it couldn’t be cured.” He carefully wipes at his left eye. “At least you won’t have to go out with me now.”

Zev’sonya plucks at the fabric on the knee of her pants. “I can wait.”

Leo shakes his head. “No.” He wipes at his other eye. “I, uh… It’s better if we don’t. There’s no point.” He clears his throat. “Don’t worry. It’s not contagious. I got it from working the mines with him.”

Startled, Zev’sonya looks over at Leo. “You’re sick too?”

Now Leo nods.

Fear and horrible resignation, both seep from him and into her. He will die choking and gasping for air, thrashing, terrified, like his father.

Zev’sonya reaches out and places her hand on his neck, and after a second of surprised hesitation; Leo shudders once before he breaks into helpless tears. She eases him over and wraps her arms around him, her eyes narrowing with determination.

He’s not going to die.

Davarax is biting his lip as he watches Nemi wobble along the table with a firm grip on it with her tiny hands and a look of thoughtful concentration on her adorable face. He is so proud, watching her progress, that he could die. His heart is not designed to handle this kind of emotion. He’s too happy.

“I need to talk to you.” Zev’sonya stalks into the room.

Nemi blinks, lets go and drops down on her behind to stare wide-eyed at the twi’lek.

Davarax stares at Zev too. She wants to talk to him? Why? Is she going to try to kill him again? She hasn’t done that in a long time. He thought they were making progress when she smiled at him after Mose moved in. What has changed? Why is she angry with him now? “Uh… Okay?”

After she’s done explaining, Davarax almost wishes she had tried to kill him instead. It would have been easier to handle than failing her meek request and having to watch her have her heart broken when the boy dies. “I… I’ll ask around.”

Zev’sonya brightens with hope and that terrifies Davarax.

“Zev.” He stops her from leaving. “I can’t promise anything, okay? I will try, but it sounds like they’ve been looking pretty hard for a cure already.”

Her dark eyes flicker before she focuses on Davarax again and she shrugs. “You got a good track record of saving kids. If anyone can save him, it’s you.”

Davarax stands there, staring, long after she’s gone.

At first Dulsissia is heartbroken when she learns that Leo is sick. That sweet, cheerful boy seemed like someone who would live forever. Hearing that he’d watched his own father die in such a terrible way makes her hug him for so long he gets a little worried.

Davarax sends out a message to every contact he’s ever made in his years as a bounty hunter and mercenary, but one by one they come back negative.

It’s ironic that the one sliver of hope they get is from one direction they did not expect.

“Yeah, I’ve heard of it.” Dee says. “They call it Miner’s Lung.”

“Is there a cure for it?” Davarax asks, trying not to get his own hopes up.

Drop makes a face. “Depends on how advanced it is. Once it catches proper hold, when it gets in the blood, it’s basically impossible to weed it out.”

“Tell us where to go.” Dulsissia says. “We have to try.”

On board the Razor Crest, Dulsissia doesn’t know what makes her smile the most; Zev’sonya’s expression of utter disgust but not doing anything to stop Leo from holding her hand, or how at the very back of the ship; Din tries to hide how sneakily he reaches out for Corin’s hand.

The doctor refuses to see them until he hears ‘Motti’. Dulsissia has absolutely no qualms about using her name to wring the arm of this horrible man to help Leo. No baby will be dying as long as there is something Dulsissia can do about it.

A complete medical scan, some tests run and a lot of frowning later, the doctor hands them a datapad with a treatment schedule that will last for about eighteen standard months and drugs that would knock out a fully grown Sarlacc. “This should work, but I can give no guarantees. It’s not like that boy has grown up on the most nutritious diet. His immune system is as poor as his family clearly was.”

Dulsissia takes the datapad, hands it over to Davarax, so she can step close to the doctor. “If it fails, then I know who to hunt down. You should know, sir, we Mandalorians are very protective of our children. We take the loss of one very hard and will take our anger out on whomever is responsible for their death.”

The doctor goes pale. “If he’s not showing any signs of improvement in two months, you better come back so we can make some adjustments to his medication.”

Dulsissia gives him a sweet smile. “Lovely. Thank you.”

Davarax looks at her like he wants to propose all over again.

When they walk back to the Razor Crest, Dulsissia is eager to hold her daughter again but also can��t help but to adore the sight of the group of teenagers ambling in front of her and Davarax. It feels like only yesterday they were mere youngsters and now they are snapping at the heels of adulthood.

Corin has his arm around Leo’s neck, laughing and tugging him into a mix of a hug and a headlock, while Din and Zev’sonya walk behind them and give identical shake of heads at the boisterous duo.

Paz is standing by the ramp to the Razor Crest, his back towards them, and Dulsissia wonders what he’s doing until she sees the hands sliding up to cup the back of his neck and she knows.

“For the love of…” Davarax mutters. “They will get brain damage from lack of oxygen soon.”

Dulsissia giggles.

“Hey.” Davarax snaps, making Paz and Raga flinch apart. “Don’t make me hose you two with cold water.”

Raga rolls her eyes. Paz clears his throat and glances over at Leo. “How did it go?”

“We got a plan and hopefully a cure.” Davarax replies.

“Nice.” Raga replies, punching Leo in the arm and laughs at his yelp. “The clan keeps growing.”

“Let’s go home.” Dulsissia says, entering the ship and heading over to where Mose is curled up with the sleeping Nemi in his arms. She has to smile at that sight as well. It’s just too cute.

The little girl has everyone wrapped up around her little finger, but Mose maybe most of all. Who would have thought a Hutt could be such a softie?

“Everything okay?” Dulsissia asks, running a gentle hand over Nemi’s hair.

“She’s good.” Mose confirms in an affectionate tone. “Fell asleep ten minutes ago.”

The ride home is blissfully incident-free, which is why it is no big surprise the shock comes the day after they return home.

Dulsissia opens the door and blinks at the sight that meets her.

Dez Vizla is standing there.

“I, uh…” Dulsissia is suddenly awkwardly aware of standing there in Mandalorian armor, helmet off, and looking like the fraud she is. Luckily Davarax appears in the hallway, carrying their daughter, and he walks over to hover behind her.

“Dez. What are you doing here?”

Dez’ t-visor shifts up from the little girl on Davarax’ arm to his face. “You had a child?”

“Yes.” Dulsissia replies cautiously, placing a protective hand on the curious Nemi’s back.

“Mom! Dad!” Corin shouts, stepping into the hallway with Din and Leo in tow. “We’re heading over to Dee, Drop and Pat. We’ll be back for dinner.”

“Fine.” Davarax shouts back.

Dez watches the three and tilts his head a little, a bit puzzled. “More Foundlings, I see.”

Then Zev’sonya steps into the hallway to head into the kitchen and Dez says; “A Twi’lek?”

“Well…” Davarax manages to say, before Dez flinches and places his hand on his blaster, and Dulsissia deducts that Mose has appeared behind them. “It kind of just happened.”

Dulsissia keeps a wary eye on Dez’ hand on that blaster. “Please don’t draw that blaster. Mose is a part of the family.” She knows she has absolutely no chance of overpowering Dez Vizla, but she will not let him just threaten her family.

Dez rumbles before he reluctantly takes his hand off his weapon. He seems a little overwhelmed. “I just… I want to see my son.”

Davarax nods then points.

Dez turns his helmet and looks.

Walking towards them, oblivious to the visitor, Paz and Raga are entirely lost in each other. Paz has his arm around her shoulders, she has her arm around his waist, and instead of looking where they’re going, they are staring at each other, making grinning comments and exchanging kisses.

Dulsissia hears Dez exhale and in that moment, she realizes that while the man might be cold (He hasn’t seen Paz for years and he hasn’t sent a word, not since they left) and that he can be cruel at times, he’s not entirely without a heart. At least not when it comes to his son.

Seconds after that, Paz and Raga both discover Dez’ presence and they come to a sudden halt not too far away. Both of them look extremely worried at the sight of Paz’ father.

“Paz.” Dez greets his son.

Paz gingerly removes his arm from around Raga, but she follows when he walks over to his father. “Father. What… What are you doing here?”

“I came to see my son.” Dez replies, reaching out to grab Paz’ shoulders, looking him up and down before snorting a laugh. “And what a sight!”

Paz manages a faint smile. He’s taller than his father now and working on becoming as muscular as him.

Seeing the unease in the boy’s eyes makes Dulsissia frown and she looks up at Davarax, but he simply looks every bit as nervous as Paz. Clearly the awe-inspired fear that everyone in the Covert had towards Dez and most Vizlas didn’t just apply below ground.

“And little Raga Saxon.” Dez drawls, turning his attention to the one next to his son. “Not so little anymore. Quite the warrior. Your mama said you were doing well. I’m pleased to see she’s right.”

Raga dares a careful smile and nods.

“Vizlas and Saxons, it would be a powerful clan union.” Dez points out, now sounding smug.

Paz clears his throat. “We… we took our helmets off, father. I don’t think they care what two outcasts are doing.”

“Don’t underestimate the influence your father has.” Dez gives Paz a couple of semi-harsh pets to the cheek. “As far as they know, you removing your helmet is just a rumour.”

Paz frowns, looks down. “I’m not going to lie and pretend I didn’t take it off. I’m not a liar.”

Dez lowers his hand and his t-visor stares at his son in silence for several long seconds. “I see…”

An awkward tension follows and eventually Dulsissia steps forward, trying to put on her pleasant face that she used whenever rival families had to meet during the social events on Seswenna. “Let’s all go inside, shall we?”

Luckily her trick works.

Paz’ reply seems to have knocked Dez off balance a bit and he spends the next couple of hours talking to Davarax, just glancing over at his son as if he doesn’t quite know how to approach him again. “I have to admit,” Dez says, having turned ignoring Dulsissia into an art form, “I did not expect to find you like this, Davarax. I didn’t think you’d last long without the Covert. Without her.”

“How is she?” Davarax asks, careful hope in his eyes for news about his sister.

Dez shrugs. “Like she always is.”

Davarax smiles a little and Dulsissia feels guilt wrapping around her heart. If not for her, Macero would not have sent the mercenary after Davarax, his helmet would have stayed on and he wouldn’t have had to leave the Covert. Davarax being here is her fault. She wonders if he regrets saving her that day when they’d met for the very first time.

No, he wouldn’t regret something like that. But maybe he regrets bringing them to the Covert? Maybe he regrets letting her into his room that night?

When it is time for dinner and the others return to the house, Dez declares it is time for him to head back to the Covert. He says so with a final look over at his son, but Paz tenses up and stares at the floor, which leads to him merely offering Paz a formal goodbye and stalking out of house, ignoring the other children gawking at him.

Dulsissia walks over to Paz, touches his arm and gets his attention. “You okay?” He nods, but it’s not really convincing.

Din appears on Paz’ other side, shoves Raga away, and punches him in the shoulder. When that gets him an angry glare, Din speaks. “He’s a douche. This is your home now. Trust me, leaving will only make you realize that. We’re your family too.”

That actually makes Paz smile and to Dulsissia’s delight, he pulls Din into a hug. It’s so sweet. It’s adorable. It’s… She sighs when she sees Paz’ biceps starting to bulge and Din squawks angrily before he starts trying to battle his way to freedom before he’s squeezed flat.

“I’m hungry.” Barthor whines.

“Let’s go eat.” Dulsissia declares.

That night, Dulsissia struggles to find sleep. All of her babies are in bed, safely tucked in, her husband is drowsing next to her, all is well, and yet there is an unease in her chest. She turns to look at Davarax. “Dav.”

“Mmh?”

“Are you awake?”

Davarax opens one eye to look at her. “If I say no, will you go to sleep?”

Dulsissia grins.

Sighing, Davarax turns on his side, fluffs his pillow and settles to look at her. “What’s on your mind?”

She reaches out and fidgets with the collar of his shirt. “Do you regret it?”

That brings a confused frown to his face. “Regret what?”

“Bringing us to the Covert.” Dulsissia rests her hand to his chest. “You lost everything because of that one decision.”

“I didn’t lose anything.” Davarax counters, reaching out and tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. “I gained a family. You, the kids, that scary twi’lek, a genuine Hutt and even our three bothersome neighbours, I wouldn’t trade this for the Dark Saber.” He leans over and gives her a soft kiss. “Without you, I’m scared to think where I’d be today.”

Dulsissia’s eyes well up with emotional tears as usual. “My life was horrible before I met you, I know it would be horrible today without you.”

“No regrets?” Davarax asks with a faint smile.

“No regrets.” Dulsissia confirms, burrowing close to him and savours the sensation of his arms going around her.

“Dav?”

“Yes, Dulcy?”

“Will you help me take the Creed?”

“Yes, cyare. It would be my honour.”

The unease in her chest is suddenly nowhere to be found and holding on to each other, they both slip into a peaceful sleep.

The End...?

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #What if #Dulsissia Motti #Davarax #Teenager Corin #Fearsome Four #Mandorin AU

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