#and then PILED LUGGAGE ON TOP OF ME HELLO?????

[lovelyisadora]

love love love when wheelchair assistance at the airport is so fucked it makes you miss your flight, and the gate agent tells you to go fuck yourself as she looks you right in the eye and closes the flight in front of you 🙃

[rosiestalez]

Taking a Gambit

WC: 3,400

Gambit (Remy LeBeau) x afab!mixed!reader

Summary: on a girls trip turned spending time with Remy after a bad breakup, you find yourself making a decision that will change the rest of your vacation and maybe even your life

Warnings: 18+, mentions of cheating, bullying, childhood trauma doesn’t go into detail, a little bit of smut, alcohol, not my gif, bad French, a girl from Georgia trying to write a deep southern & Cajun accent

Happy reading!

——————————————————————

It’s so humid out, you got the wonderful idea to straighten your hair for your girl’s trip to New Orleans, huge mistake. As soon as you stepped off the plane the humidity hit you like a wrecking ball, you’re from Georgia so you know that humidity could be bad, but you never knew it could be this bad. Your makeup is sliding off your face, your once silk pressed hair is attempting to retreat back to its normal curl pattern.

You and your girls pile into an extremely over priced Uber that arrives to an equally over priced ARBNB near the French Quarter. “How much did you spend on this Beebee?”, you ask tipping your sunglasses down. You put your hair in a bun a little bit ago ‘out of sight, out of mind’.

“I dunno, it’s was like $80 a night!”, she remarks, “but that’s okay, the man covered it all!”, you all giggle and grab our luggage from the car.

When y’all walk in there’s a wonderful smell of food. You drop your luggage and make your way to the kitchen. When you walk in you see a man, you jump back, you’re a tad frightened not expecting someone cooking in the kitchen. You knock over the broom behind you, the man turns away from the stew on the stove top and turns to you.

“Hello?”, the man has an extremely thick Cajun accent, and not to mention his crop top.

“Uh hi? What are you doing in our house?”, I tilt my head to the side

“Your house? Last time I checked my name was on the deed, ma chérie”, okay not Cajun , maybe French you think to yourself.

“Hey gi-“, one of your friends walked in to the kitchen a smile beaming on her face when she sees the handsome man standing in the kitchen. “Hey, I’m Briana, and I see that you’ve met y/n”, she sticks out her hand to him. He waltz over kissing her hand.

“Bonjour Belle”, you roll your eyes at his charm targeted to your taken friend.

“She’s married”, you point to her flashy diamond ring on her finger.

“Okay, and I’m Remy!, he introduces himself with a dramatic bow.

“Wow”, you huff, “what are you cooking?”, you walk over to the stove.

“I’m making GUMBO!”, he answers, flailing his arms outwards, his crop top lifting up slightly exposing the rest of his ripped torso, “would you masdames like some, there’s plenty t’go around. Judgin by the luggage in the living room y’all mus be starvin.”

“That would be perfect Remmy”, Beebee beams walking over to a cupboard pulling out four bowls. “Riley, Cora, there’s food!”, she yells. Two more girls shuffle into the kitchen stunned by the man serving up Gumbo and rice.

After dinner you’re practically falling asleep at the table while Remy chats up your friends, all of them are blushing and giggling like elementary school girls talking to the life guards in their Justice mermaid swimsuits. “Guys I’m gonna go ahead and unpack, and get ready to go out. Take your time though. Thank you for dinner Remy”, you stand up placing your bowl and spoon into the sink. You hear another chair scrape the floor.

“Lemme help you mon amour”, he smiles at you. You nod and he follows behind you picking up your luggage. He takes it up stairs to the biggest room, “this my room”, he remarks.

“Cool, when are you leaving the house, this is really unprofessional?”

“I’m leavin t’night, I just wan to make sure there s’food b’fore I left. Mamma always told me to feed the guests.”

“How cute, so all of this is yours?”, you ask and put your purse on the bed, “I hope you washed the sheets, you look like a player.”

“I worked hard, and they’re clean Remy got more respect for women than that, doll.” He gives you a tour of the room and you follow him, it is huge and the bathroom is insane.

“Wow.”, you are stunned, “do you think my friends would be mad if I stay in tonight, your food is on the verge of putting me into a comma”, you plop yourself onto the bed laying back and sighing.

“No, I don’t think they will”, he grabs some extra pillows for the other rooms, “lemme walk these to the other rooms and I’ll be right back.”

“Okay”, you sigh and roll over to your side, your eyes drift close and like that you’re out.

Remy walks back in and lets out an obnoxious sigh, but realizes you’re asleep, and he quietly tip toes back out after writing a note and slipping it onto the night stand before leaving to a hotel.

You wake up to your phone buzzing beside you nonstop:

Cold & Suffering😀🙄:

B- “where is y/n?”

Coracola- “she went up stairs w/ Remy and never came back down😏”

B- “omg😭”

*Rizzles laughed at a message*

Coracola-“I did see Remy leave so maybe he laid it and dipped 🤷‍♀️”

B-“Doubt that, she’s still hung up on Miles!”

Rizzles- “okay, but having rebound sex with the man who cooked dinner for you is very ✨demure✨”

You roll your eyes at the messages before replying:

Me-“we didn’t have sex, I fell asleep”

B- “oh she lives!”

Coracola-“SLAYY!”

*Rizzles thumbs down a message*

Me-🙄

You turn your phone off throwing it across the bed. You roll over and look up at the ceiling before standing up, the note catches your eye.

‘You looked extremely peaceful and I didn’t want to wake you. You’re very beautiful btw! I am leaving now and I wanted to say enjoy your stay. Here’s my number if you need anything, or want anything…if you know what I mean. (765)432-1010.’

You make your way back down stairs to see your friends all dressed up on the couch waiting to go out for the night. They all turn to look at you, “why aren’t you ready?”, Beebee questions.

“I’m not going out, I’ll go out with yall tomorrow, I’m not feehling to good the flight drained me”, you respond.

“Ugh”, they moan in unison.

“Okay we’ll call us if you need anything please?”, Cora states as they pile out the door to the Uber.

You walk back up to the room, and undress, you unpack your toiletries and begin wiping off your makeup from the day. You get the bright idea to text Remy, while in the process of unwinding. You talked for a while about how happy you were to leave your lame ass city in Georgia and visit a historic city. He threw in some French and unfortunately, you swooned. Your phone starts to ring, it is a FaceTime from “LeBeau (NOLA)”, you answer reluctantly. You see a big smile beaming across his face.

“Bonjour, belle”, his French accent shining through, “oh by the way I have a liquor cabinet help yourself”, he adds.

“Oh, I don’t drink much”, you respond.

“Fair nough ”, he nods.

You reposition yourself to lay on your stomach propping your head up with one of the pillows.

“Are you enjoying?”, he asks smiling.

“Yes I am, I decided to stay in, not feeling good”, your face softens to sorrow.

“What’s wrong ma chérie?”, his voice fills with concern.

“Nothing.”

“No tell Remy, something is bothering you. You’re to pretty to be bothered by something”, He raises his concern again.

“No, it’s pretty irritating and it’ll go away, that’s why I’m here to get away for this weekend.”

“So why are you staying in if it’s gon go away?”, he asks once again. You roll your eyes at his persistence, “Remy gives very good advice, but shit you don’t gotta tell me. I’ll just find out f’myself soon.”

“Fine”, you sigh, and inhale a deep breath before sitting up and propping the phone up on the lamp on the night stand. “It’s my ex”, you pause, twiddling your thumbs, “he keeps sending me sex videos of the girl he cheated on me with and saying really fucked up things about me.”

Remy has a stunned look on his face, jaw practically touching the floor. “What the fuck?”, his Cajun accent more pronounced. His bright red eyes fill with anger. “Thas fucked up, that jus don’t make no sense, why?”

“Like I would know, I don’t even know why he cheated on me in the first place. I did nothing to him.”

“No s‘not your fault cher, some people are jus filled wit evil”, he responds. “How long were yall together?”, he tilts his head to the side like a puppy waiting for a treat.

“One year”, you follow, “we broke up two weeks ago.”

“Woah, s’insane he would do a beautiful masdame like that”, he follows this, “d’ya know tha girl?”

“Yeah”, your eyes sink lower, “Riley.”

“Ya amie?”, he asks

“Who?”

“Your friend”, he translates the French

“Yes”, you remark, “that’s why I don’t want to go out.”

“You got that right”, he adds, “get him back.”

Your eyes widened stunned by his ‘good advice’, “what?”, eyes widen.

“Ya heard me, get em back”, he beams, eyes lighting up again.

“Why would I do that?”

“You a very beautiful woman, I assume he ain’t, get em back wit a good lookin man.”

“Remy”, you sigh, “I don’t want to do that, I don’t just have sex to get revenge.”

“Fair”, his tone direct.

“Yep, so that’s why I’m not going out tonight”, you roll your eyes grabbing your phone and laying back down on the bed. “Where are you?”

“Hotel!”, he flips his camera around to show off the sorry room that he’s in.

“Yikes”, you chuckle out your nose. “Come back here, we can party”, you smile. You surprisingly enjoy his presence, he’s a little cocky, but he makes you smile.

“Ha, d’ya play poker?”, he asks.

“I can play 21”, you smile.

“Close nough, imma be there soon.” He hangs up the phone, and you change into some more presentable clothes, but yet still comfortable. You take it upon yourself to borrow one of his purple sweatshirts because you weren’t expecting his house to be freezes cold. You make your way down the stairs and into the kitchen searching for something to munch on, you smile when you see a snack cabinet specifically for guests and renters. You nestle yourself into the plush vintage couch that matches the aesthetic of the French quarter.

You flip through a couple channels on the tv before landing on the Animal Planet because reruns of your favorite childhood tv show ‘Dirty Jobs’ was currently on. You’re hair fully curled back up, because you did rinse out the rest of the silk press earlier, revealing bouncy, but some what frizzy 3c curls. You let out a long sigh when the door knob starts jiggling you jump up making a run to the door grabbing a random baseball bat, when the door opens you swing the bat hitting Remy in the stomach.

“Ooo”, he groans dropping to the floor holding his stomach. You drop the bat cupping your mouth to stifle a giggle. You quickly rush down to his aid still trying not to laugh and planting a look of concern onto your face.

“Oh my gosh! I’m so sorry!”, you exclaim.

“S’all good”, he grumbles out, “jus-ow-needa-minute”, he exhales, “good arm you got there.”

“Yeah, I played softball in highschool”, you respond. You help him off the floor closing the door muffling the outside noise and bring him to the couch. “Let me grab some ice!”, you spark.

“That’ll be great cher”, he responds shifting slightly. You return with a bag of ice placing it on his abdomen, he looks up at you and smiles. “Thanks.”

“I’m so sorry, it’s definitely gonna leave bruises, you lift up his shirt to reveal a spot begging to form.

“Well at least I’ll know a beautiful woman gave em to me”, he chuckles. You roll your eyes, still enamored by his body, his voice, his charm. You didn’t understand why it’s only been one day, but you would drop everything to have him around all the time.

“You make me blush”, you say with a slight hint of sarcasm lining your voice, “I don’t think they’ll be back anytime tonight, I bet you around midnight Cora will call and say they found another party”, you sigh.

“you’s ain the party type?”

“Not really.”

“I ain’t either, I like stayin home and watchn a good movie, playin cards”, he responds. He looks down at your hands lightly resting on his torso, “you’re nail s’pretty, I like purple”, he compliments the dark purple color you just did for your trip to NOLA. “You look good in my sweatshirt too”, he adds lightly grabbing the sleeve.

You blush, “thanks”, you remove your hands from his abs swiftly pulling the sleeves of the sweater over your hands.

“Don’t hide mon amor”, he pulls your hand and holds it tightly, rubbing his thumb on your knuckles.

“No it just hit me that I was touching you, I’m sorry”, you chuckle.

“Don’t be Remy don’t mind!”, he exclaims placing your hand back on his belly.

You’re 3 rounds deep in 21, he keeps winning and you keep busting, never trusting your gut. The air is filled with laughter as you both tell funny stories about your childhoods and about current day. “So are you from here?” You ask shuffling the deck to prepare for another round.

“Born n’ raised”, he remarks with a smirk, “are you from Georgia?”

“I am, I was too born and raised, but I didn’t live in Macon my whole life, I moved there when I was a girl, I’m actually from Moody”, you answer. “It’s a smaller subset town of Valdosta!”, you chirp.

“Oh wow”, he responds.

“Yeah, crazy right”, you smirk dealing the cards. You behind the fourth round and as quickly as it started it ended, finally you won a round, “YES!”, you exclaim fist pumping the air!

“You took a gambit cher and it put you in a good spot”, he responds to your win, “I’m bored of this game, do you wan watch a show?”, he asks cleaning up the card and placing them back in their spot inside the coffee table.

“You’re not bored you’re just upset that you lost”, you laugh.

“Damn you’s caught me”, he sarcastically sulks.

“But yes we can watch a show, I’m not picky we can watch anything!”

“Okay, do you like Disney?”, he asks taking a spot quite close to you in the couch. His arm is stretched out behind you, and you subconsciously lean into him without even realizing. You nod at his question and he opens Disney+, “is that your natural hair?”, you nod, “it’s beautiful cher!”

“Thank you”, you blush at this compliment, it’s very rare for a white man to compliment your hair without touching it or comparing it to something else. He puts on a movie.

“This is MY favorite move”, he remarks clicking on ‘Princess and the Frog’ you chuckle, and how adorable this man actually is. The movie starts playing, he gets up to dim the lights and sits back down next to you, he pulls you in a little closer.

About 30 minutes into the movie you receive a text from Cora:

Coracola: “hey found another party, we ain comin home tn don’t wait up!”

Coracola: “have sex with Remy!”

Coracola: “love you N/n!”

Me: “okay be safe, please call me if you need me! I’m not going to have sex with him, love you guys too!”

You close your phone and place it on the coffee table. You hear a light snore beside you and turn to see Remy asleep head rested on the pillow. You smile grabbing the remote and turning off the movie, “not done watching”, he shuffles awake.

“I’m sorry, I am”, you respond.

“Oh”, you could probably hear his heart sadden.

“Yous sleepy?”, he asks, “go on to bed”, he smiles at you. You stand up hands gently cupping his face rubbing your thumb against his stubble. You turn to walk up the stairs, you know he’s looking so you sway your hips with each step you take.

You make it upstairs and you softly close the bedroom door behind you, stripping off all of your clothes except for your underwear and crawl into bed letting the warm blankets embrace you tired body. With that you’re relaxed, your eyes closing as you drift off to sleep.

The smell of breakfast wakes you up from your deep sleep; the smell of fresh coffee, sausage and eggs fill the air. You roll out of bed putting your discarded clothes back on before stumbling down stairs wiping sleep from your eyes. “Bonjour, belle dame”, he remarks when you walk into the kitchen he’s standing over the stove cooking breakfast for you and him and it looks big enough it could also be for your friends when they decide to stumble back in. “I have some grits jus bout done, and French roast coffe brewin, and sausage fryn up”, he points a spatula to different parts of the gigantic kitchen. “You like grits”, your pouring some coffee and putting in your absurd amount of cream and sugar, “woah there doll, you don’t wan no coffee wit ya sugar?”, he mocks.

“I like my coffee sweet.”

“You don’t need it to be sweet you already sweet enough, sugar”, he reverts his gaze back to the sausage in the skillet. You blush taking a sip of your sweet ass coffee.

“Why do you cook so much?” You take a seat at the island setting your blue mug down gently. The windows were propped open the humidity fills the room.

“My momma taught me s’really jus somethn I always did wit momma.”

“Oh I see.”

“Do you cook?”

“Here and there sometimes I just get to busy with work.”

“What ya do f’work?”

“Oh I’m a teacher”, he turns away from the stove eyes widening.

“Yous a teacher?, still filled with shock.

“Yes sir, I teach first grade, sometimes it’s a little rough, but they’re little angels just wanting to grow”, you smile taking another sip of the coffee.

“We-you know, you’re a special woman. Your heart truly is as beautiful as you are”, his red eyes look at you deeply. “Oh well! Everything seems to be done let me make you a bowl, lovely.”

After breakfast Remy encourage you to get ready so he can take you exploring through the city now that it’s daylight and a bit safer. You do your curly girl routine and put on a little waterproof mascara, changing into one of the summer dresses you brought for your trip. You still have yet to hear anything from your friends so you allow Remy to show you around instead.

You walk around the FQ for a bit, snack on some delicious food, and even try some of Remy’s favorite drink, Whiskey Neat, to you it was not neat and you may have even gagged a little. You found yourselves hand in hand at one point while walking around, he says it’s for your protection as he’s just trying to be a gentleman, but you know better than that. “I don’t know if I told ya that you look very beautiful today, Une beauté dans le bayou.”, he compliments.

“Thank you Remy”, you find you and Remy sitting in a cafe that he said he went to all the time as an ‘enfant’.

“Of course cherie”, he responds.

“So are you Cajun or French?”, you finally expose your curiosity to him and he just chuckles.

“Both amor”, he follows, “mostly just a ragin Cajun”, he smiles taking a sip of his beverage.

“That’s pretty cool, so your related to the Canadian French people?”

“Somin like that yeah.”

“That’s interesting”, you smile eager to learn more about this mystery man who seems to care about you more than your friends who you still not have heard from except Beebee who’s keeping you updated here and there.

“I reckon”, he states plainly, “Tell Remy bout you.”

“I’m not as interesting as you are”, you chuckle re adjusting yourself in the seat.

“Try me, gon ahead, doll”, he just smiles.

“Well, I’m mixed, my dad is black mom is white”, memories flood back from your childhood, all the adoption rumors that floated around your school, all the stories your mom told you about how people called you a devil child, and how you were unnatural, all the racism you faced from both sides of the family.

“Hey that’s pretty cool”, he smiles, “why you lookin sad, belle”

“I just had it a bit rough growing up up that’s all”, you drink your water practically chugging in. This has been your go to tactic when you’re anxious, just chug water and hope your nerves calm down.

“Oh”, he pauses and reaches accross the table to grab your hand, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay! When I got to college the bullying stopped!”, you exclaim

“Well thas good cher.”

After a couple minutes your food arrives and both of y’all go to town, you ordered the best burger you’ve had in a while, and Remy got a some crawfish and he went to town on their little heads, you just giggle, he’s absolutely adorable. He pays for both of you not without heavy protest, but he just ignores you saying, ‘this jus what men s’posed to do’.

You two arrive back at his house, and you finally see your friends running around the house like mad women trying to figure out who’s shoes are who’s, and who’s going out clothes belong to who. “Bonjour, mesdames!”, Remy pipes closing the door behind y’all.

The girls stop running around facing the door, “Hey!”, they exclaim together before going back to what they were doing. You and Remy just laugh and make your way back upstairs. Closing the door behind him you both sit down on the bed, just laughing at the women down stairs.

“My friends think we should have sex.”

“What?”, he looks at you Turing sharply. You have to admit he did look completely fuckable in this moment, but you just couldn’t fuck him, you don’t like the idea of having a rebound partner.

“Because of Miles”, you add.

“I mean, Remy wouldn’t mind bein a rebound, but I do get a lil clingy after sex, I will bother you”, he chuckles.

“Yeah, me too, that’s why I don’t want to do rebound sex.”

“Cher, remember how I told him yous should get him back?”

“Yeah”

“Do it, you’re only here for a couple more days, so jus gon ahead and get tha ass back”, he adds, “gon and find a man and get him ba-“

Before you could finish his sentence you kiss him, you’ve wanted to do that since he came back to spend time with you last night. He responds to the kiss without hesitation. Your lips match movements. He leans you back on his bed, crawling on top of you deepening the kiss. His free hand travels up to your face holding you tightly with the other. You’ve never experienced a kiss this deep and this passionate ever. He’s filled with passion, it has to be his souther and French roots tied into one. Man is it beautiful, it’s great, until he stops, “doll? yous okay wit this, I’m okay if you okay?”, you nod your head pulling him back down into the kiss. Before anything could happen you hear a knock on the door, you pushed him off you and he hits the floor with a *thud* and an *ow*. You jump of the bed straightening out your clothes before opening it wide enough just for you to only be seen.

“Hey bad time?”, Beebee asks.

“No, yeah, no- you’re good, what’s up?”

“We are leaving again, we found another spot do you wanna come?”

You look behind you at the man still sitting on the floor rubbing his head.

“I’m staying here again, I really don’t want to be around Rylie.”

“Fair, okay well I will see you tomorrow, tell Remy I said hey”, she giggled and makes her way down stairs. You close the door as she leaves letting out a long winded exhale before walking over to Remy and helping him stand up.

“Do you have super strength?”, you look at him confused, “this the second time you’d hurt good ol’ Remy. Startn to wonder if ya dislike me”, you just giggle and rub the back of his head. “What kinda music ya like cher?”, he asks while getting up from the bed and walking over to the record player on the dresser.

“I don’t know Rem, I’m not picky. We can listen to whatever you pick”, he smiles and picks out a Louis Armstrong record. He starts swaying, he grabs your hand and politely forces you to start swaying with him.

“Beautiful belle”, he whispers, his chin rests at the top of your head, “stay with me. We can dance like this forever.”

You giggle softly, “I wish Remy.”

“It’s summer break stay wit me for the rest of summer”, he adds lowly. You let out a content sigh, pondering the idea for a second. He spins you around towards the bed and you take a seat, he walks over to you with a sensual look on his face. You scoot back spreading your legs so he has room to lay you back, pressing his lips against yours with so much passion you could practically melt into liquid form. He kissed down your jaw and neck, he finds a spot under your ear and sucks on it, that will definitely be a hickey; the sensation leaves you breathless and your eyes begin to roll back pushing your hips close to his. He forces your thighs apart more using his thigh, he’s pretty much straddling one of your thighs. You rub against his toned thigh out of instinct searching for release of the tension building on your bud.

“Ma chérie, ralentis”, he whispers in your ear. You whine, the accent is way more thick than it has been. You don’t know what he’s saying, but you can only assume it’s about your movements. “Oh don’t whine belle, that makes me go s’crazy”, he smirks. “Can Remy take off your dress cher?”, you nod. He pulls off the yellow dress revealing you in nothing, but a lacy purple thong. Your tits are perky, and your nipples have turned into mounds at the feeling of the cold air. He smiles like a goofy kid, “Remy likes that purple, s’bad gotta go”, you smile with him, looking up at his red eyes.

“Remy?”, he looks at you.

“Yes ma cher?”

“Be nice.”

“I’m always nice, mon amour”, with that he slides your thong and tosses it somewhere in the room. He looks at you silently asking permission to go down on you and you nod confirming that everything is okay. He dips his down into your throbbing cunt. He lives light kisses on the lips and around where you want him.

“Rem, please”, you beg.

“Not yet, sugar”, he keeps up the teasing until his fingers get involved and they lightly pass through your folds softly rubbing your clit. You buck letting out a soft moan, “I can’t hear you cher, a lil louder so Remy can hear you, yeah?” You nod your head.

He has you moaning a writhing underneath him for about 30 minutes, he’s taken his time making you feel good, talking you through everything. He’s laying next to you playing in your hair and rubbing your back, as both your heart rates attempt to drop back down to normal. “Cher you did so good for me”, he smiles, pushing some curls behind your ear. “I’m sorry if I was rough”, he says staring deeply in your eyes.

“You’re okay Remy, it felt good”, you respond cupping his face, planting a kiss on your forehead. “I’m gonna shower and it’s starting to get late, I’m sleepy.”

“Okay mon amor, any thoughts t’my question yet?”, he asks looking up to you as you wrap yourself in a towel.

“I have, I’ll stay”, you smile and waltz towards the bathroom.

A/n- hey author note at the end! I noticed there’s not a lot of Gambit content which is so sad. So I’m currently taking requests for him! I’m sorry this one got long, I’m going to be working on a part 2! Thank you so much for reading! Don’t forget to reblog🫶!

[maitressonneurs]

Just a cup of tea

May Reilly Parker x !femreader

A/n : hello ! i'm here again with a fanfic about our beloved Aunt May played by the beautiful Marisa Tomei (in love with here tbh).

Warnings : SMUT, have fun, alcohol help a bit but consent anyway (who coudn't ?)

Sorry, English isn't my native language !

______________________________________________________________

You crack your back tired from carrying boxes from the moving van to the entrance of the building. The truckers wave at you in distance as they leave, leaving you stranded with tons of luggage. You grimace as you turn towards the elevator.

Broken-down.

-Why do these kinds of things only happen to me, you grumble under your breath as you grab a box. "I just have to go up all the floors by the stairs…"

By rediscovering your apartment, your bad mood immediately dissipates. Afternoon light filters through the curtains in the living room, bouncing off the furniture already set up. You take a few moments to observe the living room, enjoying the calm surroundings. This moment of contemplation invigorated you for the future. You take out your headphones and get back to work, good music in your ears. You return to the entrance, moving your head to the rhythm of AC/DC. You didn't think you'd say this one day, but your boss has really good taste in music. However, reality quickly catches up with you when you see the boxes piled up. You turn up the volume and finally get going.

-I can help you ?

A voice takes you out of your bubble. You raise your head from the ground to face your interlocutor. You smile at her, hoping she didn't ask you a question. You didn't hear her because of your headphones, and she probably didn't notice them, your hair hiding them. She looks at you and you do the same, not knowing what to do. She repeats her question. Your hands busy with the big box can't turn down the sound or remove an earphone.

-Excuse me, I can’t hear anything, you’re shouting over the music.

You see her laughing and she takes out an earphone.

-No need to yell, I'm right in front.

-Sorry, you're starting to blush heavily.

-No problem. My name is May.

-Nice to meet you, Y/N. I don't want to appear rude but my box is very heavy and I would like to reach my apartment before it crushes me.

-Oh yes, excuse me. Would you like a little help?

-I wouldn't want to disturb you.

-If I offer it to you…

-With great pleasure then! The boxes are all in front of the entrance and I have just moved to the top floor, the door is wide open!

May gives a thumbs up then disappears into the stairwell. You go put down your box and look at yourself in the mirror. You curse yourself for simply putting on sweatpants and a tank top. Your face is still red and you try to cool down a little before meeting the woman again. Unconsciously, you start to smile as you think about the exchange you just had. You feel like you're in a romance movie. You stand up and put your hair back in place when you hear her coming down the hall.

-You can put it in the living room, I'll put everything away afterwards!

-All right !

You watch her bend down, facing her. Her neckline opens slightly, giving you a nice view of her chest. You look away, blushing.

-I…I'm going…I'm going to go get the rest…

She looks up and sees you leaving quickly, your cheeks too pink to go unnoticed.

-And there it was, that was the last box.

-I thought we were never going to finish, May laughed.

-I hope that didn't bother you too much…

-Don't worry darling, it was a pleasure to help my new neighbor.

-Do you live right across the hallway?

-Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?

You feel your heart racing at the request. Is this a date?

-My pleasure !

-Good, I'll pick you up at 8 p.m., is that okay?

-Perfect ! Absolutely perfect…

When she greets you and closes your door, you feel your face heat up. It hasn't even been a day since you arrived in town, and you already have a friend in the building, or even more. You noticed the looks she was giving you. The way she leaned in front of you, to reveal her chest. She didn't leave you indifferent, and she plays on it.

-I'm coming !

You opened the door to the brunette. She wore a beautiful black dress, which opened to the middle of her breasts.

-Um, my eyes are higher darling.

-Excuse me, you sat up, your cheeks red. Again. "You are really beautiful."

-Thank you, are you ready?

-Always.

You took the arm she offered you and you set off.

-Do you know a little about the city?

-No not at all. Do you know any good addresses by the way?

-It depends on what… But yes, we can say that, she sent you a wink.

You arrived at the restaurant.

-Thai?

-This is my favorite type of food. I hope that doesn't-

-Me too !

-What ?

-It’s also my favorite thing to eat!

She smiled at you and your eyes met. You brushed back a strand of her hair that was falling in front of her face.

-So…

-Thanks…

Your stomach growled.

-Let's go eat.

-I think it's a good idea! you laughed as you entered the restaurant.

-A table for two please.

-Of course Miss Parker.

The name rang strangely in your ears. But you didn't have time to ask a few questions before the waiter took you to a table, more or less away from the rest, near a window, which overlooked the lit city. He lit the candle in the center of the table, placed the menus down and then left you alone.

-The view is superb.

-It's true…

You turned to her and saw that she was looking at you. A soft smile formed on your lips.

-You didn't look outside, did you?

-No.

To hide your blushes, you escape into the menu. The waiter came to your rescue to take your orders.

-A kuai tiao phat siiu for me please.

-I'll have a tom ka khai.

-Drinks ?

-I would like a Leo.

-Likewise, please.

-Perfect, he gave you a smile as he left.

You watched him leave before feeling something brush against your ankle, then slowly move up your leg. A shiver ran down your spine. You tried to ignore it.

-I… Hmm.

-He's handsome, isn't he? May tilted her head to the side, innocently.

-I'm not interested in him, you fixed your gaze on hers.

-You have someone in your life ?

-Not yet. And you, May?

-Neither.

-Perfect. Absolutely perfect...

Her foot, you were sure now, kept rising, lifting up your flowing pants. You took a deep breath, not letting go of her brown eyes.

-Here are your drinks.

-Mh… thank you...

The waiter cleared his throat then, seeing that you wouldn't let go of the older woman's peepers, left.

-I thought he was never going to leave…

-Cheers, meet us.

-At our beauty meeting, she sent you a wink then drank.

___

-Thanks for tonight…

-I loved it.

You look at her for a moment. You didn't want to let her go, not after this good time.

-Would you like to end the evening at my place? you suggested.

-Have you had time to unpack all your boxes?

-Not yet…

-Come to my place, instead. That'll save you work.

A smirk appeared on your lips and you followed her.

-This is my home! she exclaimed as she opened the door to her apartment.

-It is charming.

-Would you like something to drink ?

-Just a cup of tea, please.

-Really ? she raised an eyebrow.

-No, do you have any beer?

-I prefer that.

She brought you a bottle. Your fingers brushed together. May sat down next to you on the couch. You moved a little closer, your knees touching hers. You took a sip.

-So… what made you move here?

-My job, I was promoted.

-Congratulations, she toasted with you then bit her lip.

Your eyes fell to her lips. One moment. She touched your arm, bringing you out of your thoughts. Her face was much closer now. You didn't need to be asked and kissed her. Your hand rested against her neck, tenderly caressing her skin. She brought you onto her knees, straddling you. She gave your ass a slap, which made you smile. You shift your lips to the corner of her mouth, then to her cheek. You bit her ear, making her moan, only to move to her neck. Your lips teased her, light kisses placed on her hot skin. You sucked on the base between her shoulders and neck, leaving traces of your passage. May pushed her leg between yours, earning a moan from you. Because of the friction, you couldn't hold back and crashed into her thigh.

-My bed is much more comfortable darling…

You got up and she took you to her room. You weren't paying attention to the decoration, too busy with the woman in front of you. You grabbed the straps of her dress to slide it down her body. She was only wearing panties. To balance things out, she took off your shirt and threw it away. Your pants quickly followed her. May pushed you onto the bed. She joined your lips for a passionate kiss. She marked you, as you had done to her, before cupping your breasts.

-You're still too dressed for me…

She unclasped your bra with one hand and dragged it to your chest. She played with your nipple, making you shiver with pleasure. Her mouth went to join the other, kissing it, driving you crazy. You grabbed her hair in one hand, pulling it slightly, making her moan. Her other hand moved down to your stomach, leaving marks with her nails. Her fingers caressed your folds through your underwear.

-Already so wet, just for me…

You found yourself naked and so did she. She made her way down to your heart, leaving kisses along the way. She kissed your clit, making you arch into her touch.

-Oh May… F-fuck.

She inserted a finger inside you.

-Faster… please…

-With pleasure darling.

She sped up, adding a finger. Your moans grew louder. She kissed you to stop you from waking the neighbors. You dug your nails into her back, leaving red marks. You closed your eyes, letting all this desire take over you. It didn't take you long to come undone. Breathing erratically, you propped yourself up on your elbows to look at her.

-That… You are… Wow… you manage to say.

-And that's just the beginning…

___

-Aunt May, I'm home!

You suddenly woke up to the scream. You were lying in a bed that wasn't yours, cuddled with your neighbor, who was still sleeping. You looked at your phone, it said 10:43. You turned around to wake May, but her face, hidden by her hair, didn't make you want to do it. You moved a strand then caressed her cheek.

-Morning darling.

-Hey.

You placed a kiss on her lips. She smiled at this contact. The blanket fell to her hips, revealing her bare torso, just like your body.

-Slept well ?

-Like a baby… and you?

-A little sore legs, she laughed.

-May? You are here ? someone knocked on the bedroom door. You recognized this voice.

“Shit,” she whispered. I'm coming !

She got up after a last kiss then looked for her clothes. You did the same. You put your hair back before going out with your new lover.

-Hello May and…

-Hi Peter, you say when you see the young boy.

-…Y/N?

-Are you doing well ? you asked, trying to remain informal, as if you hadn't just left his aunt's room, hickeys everywhere.

-Um yes ? He looked at you, then at his aunt.

-You know each other ? May asked, trying to lighten the mood.

-Yes, we… work together, he replied.

-You never told me that you had such beautiful colleagues…

-Aunt May, Peter exasperated.

-So you… are from the same family…

-Yes, she's my aunt.

You looked from May to Peter, not knowing what to say or do.

-Did your move go well? asked the young man.

“Yeah, pretty good,” you looked sideways at May. She smiled at you. Peter, having seen the exchange, took his leave.

-I did not expect that.

-Me neither but, at least, I wouldn't have to introduce you to him… that's already a given.

-You thought of introcuce me to him?

-Of course. Considering the night we just had, I won't let you go…

[purplegirl20]

Sweet Encounter

Pairing: Damian x Self-Insert (Me), with mention of the Judgement Day and Liv Morgan.

Summary: I went to a candy shop in Chicago when I encounter a certain someone before Hell in a Cell

Warning: Spanking Kink

Tagging: @ghoulsister1 @omg-im-such-a-masochist @babiidee28 @sparkleva25 @alicejoaquin1990 @vintage-pvssy @ashkrystal @theworldofotps @nyc-kyra-93 @ziasaph @priestparty @queenzay @sultryfandoms @auburnwrites @windhamsrotunda@rheaanddamianfan@theclawdeen1442 @tmt-77 @blueberryomega

June 5th: Hell in the Cell

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon in Chicago. I decided to go on a Solo trip to a candy shop while Damian was still in the hotel, packing up our luggage for Monday night raw in Green Bay.

I after dealing with traffic, my uber driver finally arrived at my destination.

Shaynell: Thank you. Have a nice day.

Uber driver: No problems. Have a good one.

Shaynell: Maybe I'll have fun inside of a candy shop before Hell in the Cell.

I open the door and step inside of the candy store.

"Welcome to Windy City Sweets"

Shaynell: Oh Hello.

I smile as I continue browsing throughout the sweet and colorful store. I grabs myself a basket and starts picking up some candies.

Shaynell:(thinking) Maybe I should get some sour candies for Rhea. She like sour candies.

Before I pick up the next candy, I felt another hand touch it. I saw a petite woman with messy platinum hair with black highlights.

Shaynell: I'm sorry. You were getting that?

Blond woman: Yea. I really like these sour patch kids.

She then noticed a basket of chocolates that I piled up.

Blond woman: I see you a chocoholic.

Shaynell: I see you like sour stuff.

I noticed her basket that filled with sour candies.

Blond woman:(chuckling) Yea. I really love sour stuff. especially the sour gummy worms. Do you like them?

Shaynell: I do. But always prefers the classic gummy worms. I like put to put on vanilla or dirt parfait.

Blond woman: Dirt parfait?

Shaynell: It chocolate pudding with crushed oreos.

Blond woman: OH!

Shaynell: Such as perfect treat during Halloween.

Blond woman: Nice. I should make them for Halloween.

We continue socializing with each other as we continue browsing and getting some more candies.

Cashier: Do you find everything you like?

Shaynell:(chuckling) We did!

Cashier: Would you like to try our world-famous ice cream?

Shaynell: You know what? The more the merrier. I almost forgot. I never get to know to your name.

Blonde woman: I'm Liv.

Shaynell: Oh. Nice to meet you. I'm Shaynell.

Liv: Nice to meet you Shaynell.

We smile and shake hands.

Cashier: What ice cream flavor would you like?

Shaynell: I would like double scoop of superman ice cream on a waffle cone.

Liv: and would like double scoop of cookies and cream on a bowl.

Cashier: Right away.

We paid for your ice cream and huge candy haul. We sat down on the outdoor and enjoy our ice cream. I topped my ice cream with some gummies bear and gummy worms, while Liv topped her ice cream with the chocolate gummies.

Shaynell:(sighs) This is so refreshing. Want some of the gummy worms?

Liv: Sure.

I gave her a handful of the gummy worms.

Liv: Want some of the chocolate gummies bears?

Shaynell: Of course.

She gave me a handful of the chocolate covered gummies bear. I took a bite of it and smile in content.

Shaynell: These taste delicious.

Liv: They are.

Shaynell: You know. This is the first time I went to a candy store.

Liv: Really?

Shaynell: Yea. I usually get my candies from a grocery store or the dollar tree.

Liv: Wow.

Shaynell: I know. Shocking. I always wanted to go to a candy store. Reminds me of Willy Wonka.

Liv: Which one, the Gene Wilder or the Johnny Depp version?

Shaynell: Both actually.

I chuckled as I continue eating my frozen treats.

Shaynell: You know. I'm really glad to meet new people like you. I wish we could hang out together.

Liv: We could.

Shaynell: What do you mean?

Liv: We can exchange numbers.

Shaynell: Let's do it.

We grabs a napkin and write down our phone number. Before we could exchange it, I heard a booming voice.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Shaynell:(gasp)

I slowly turns around and saw Edge and Rhea with a scowl on their face. Liv quickly grabs her bags and left to avoid confrontation.

Shaynell: Liv! Wait!

Rhea: Shaynell! What the hell are you doing?

Shaynell: Nothing! I was socializing with her!

Edge drags me and put me inside his rental car.

Shaynell: What the hell?

Edge: Rhea. Meet me at the Allstate Arena. I'll deal with her.

Shaynell: What? This is bullshit!

Edge flashed a deathful glare me, causing me to shut up quickly. He grabs his phone to call Damian.

Damian: Hello?

Edge: Hey Damian.

Damian: How are you?

Edge: I'm fine. Although we had a little problem.

Damian: What do you mean?

Edge: Well....

2 minutes later....

Damian:(angrily) What do you mean She was with Liv Morgan????? Was Finn or Aj was there?

Edge: No. Only Liv Morgan. She was hanging out at a candy shop with her.

Damian:(growls) Take her back to the hotel. NOW!

They quickly disconnected the call.

Edge:(growls) I don't want to hear any words from you.

Shaynell:(sighs)

I stay in silent as Edge drove me back to the hotel. After dealing with traffic, we finally arrived to the hotel and Damian was waiting at the entrance with his arms crossed.

Shaynell:(quietly) Uh-oh.

Edge quickly escorted me out of the car.

Edge: She's all you Damian.

Damian:(sighs) Thank you.

Shaynell:(nervously) Hi.

Damian: I DON'T WANT TO HEAR IT!

His booming voice cause me to be quiet in an instant.

Damian: Upstairs. NOW!

He grabs my wrist and dragged me back to our hotel room.

20 minutes later...

I was in a bend over position being spanked by Damian. My mouth was gagged with my wrists was bound.

Shaynell:(muffled screams)

Damian started spanking my exposed ass with his bare hand.

Shaynell:(winces)

Damian:(grunts) I'm very disappointed with you, Mija. You have not only disappointed me, but to the rest of the Judgement day before our big match at Hell in a Cell.

His spanking are getting harder by the second.

Shaynell:(winces) I'm sorry.

Damian: No Excuse! This is for fraternizing with the enemies.

Shaynell:(muffled screams) Bunuelos!

Damian: CALLATE LA BOCA!

He quickly spanks my ass even harder.

Shaynell:(muffled screaming) It hurts.

Tears starts flowing down on my cheeks, begging him to stop.

Damian pushes me off of him and lay on top of the bed.

Damian:(breathing heavily) I don't have time for this. I'll let my anger on my enemies. I'm not done with you yet. If you behave like a good like girl, I'll be lenient with you.

He left the hotel room, leaving me still gagged and bound until he comes back.

[clue-can-writes]

New Faces

Twice 10th Member AU

Pre-Debut

When Hua got new roommates

*Just a note, Jihun is not a real person, but in this story he is very high up in the chain of command at JYPE, and he mostly specializes in trainees.

“HUA! WHERE ARE YOU?”

Jihun couldn’t find the 12 year old in any of the practice rooms or the dorms. It wasn’t until he walked in on Miss A having rehearsal with a 5th member, that he found her.

“Hua, I have been looking for you everywhere. Did you forget that trainees are moving in today?”

“Is it bad if I say yes?” Hua asked.

The members of Miss A laughed at the obvious aegyo of Hua. She tried hanging onto to Fei, as she was rushed out of the room.

Normally, Jihun wouldn’t be upset with Hua spending time with Miss A, but today they were getting two new trainees from Japan, and she was helping to welcome them.

“So, what if they both want bottom bunks? Do I have to give it up? Or since I’ve been here longer do I have seniority?” Hua asked as they walked to the JYPE entrance.

“If both of them want bottom beds, then it would be hospitable to give up your bed. You may have seniority here, but they are four years your senior, so they have seniority on your life.”

“So, does that mean if they want my life, the proper thing to do would be to give it to them?”

Jihun sighed, “No, you don’t have to give them your life. But they most likely won’t ask for it.”

“What’s the policy for speaking Japanese to them again.”

“Did you already forget,” Jihun asks as Hua sticks her tongue out at him. “You can speak to them in Japanese, but try and help them be more comfortable to speak in Korean, other than Japanese.”

They get closer to the entrance and see two girls sitting there, with all their luggage piled around them. They quickly stood up when they saw Jihun and Hua heading towards them.

“Hello, I’m Jihun, I am in charge of the trainees at JYPE. This is Hua, She is a trainee and she will be your roommate.” Jihun waits for Hua to translate it to the girls before taking them on a tour of the JYPE building. He showed them all the practice rooms, which ones they could use, and where they would show up for their monthly evaluation. Hua translated it as quickly as he was speaking it, while the girls nodded. 

Eventually, Jihun lead them to the dorm they would be sharing with Hua. Once inside, Jihun left the girls alone and went to welcome the next trainees. 

“So, did you guys get any of that?” Hua asked in Japanese. Both girls nodded. “Okay, I’m pretty sure you’re lying and I’ll go over it again when we go to the dining hall. Now, what are your names because Jihun apparently needed me to know everything, but your names.”

“I’m Sana and this is Momo.”

“How do you speak Japanese so well?” Momo blurted out. “Did you live there? Are you Japanese?”

“Uh, no I didn’t live there, and I’m Chinese. And I speak Japanese so well because I had a Japanese neighbor when I was younger and I loved the way she spoke.” Hua paused as she saw Sana nervously looking around the room. “If you guys want the bottom beds I’ll move.”

“No, No we don’t need them.” Sana rushed to say. “Momo sleeps on the top anyway.”

“Ok, cool. I washed the sheets yesterday, so they are clean. And after you get settled here, I’ll show you the best place here.”

“Where’s That?” Momo asked as she climbed to the top bed.

“The dining hall. JYP Oppa spends so much money on it, and the food is amazing....”

“Are we gonna get kicked out if we don’t learn Korean?” Sana asked abruptly.

“Why do you think you would get kicked out.”

“This is a Korean company. You learned full Korean and Japanese and Chinese. How many languages do we have to learn to speak? And what if we don’t learn Korean by the first evaluation? Will we be sent back to Japan or will we Just get a really bad grade?”

“Wow, Sana calm down.” Sana looked at Hua like she was a child as Hua went to sit next to Sana on her bed. “Learning Korean is going to be a top priority, but you won’t get kicked out for not speaking it, especially in your first year! Also, I speak Cantonese and Mandarin fluently because of where I grew up and I’ve been training here for 5 years already. Of course I speak Korean fluently.”

“You shouldn’t be worrying about that stuff. It will only get in your head and make you not as good as you should be.” Momo said, as she came down from her bed and sat on Sana’s other side. “And at least there is someone who fully understands us and is willing to help us.”

“And has to help you, because if I don’t you might put a duck in my bed.” Hua joked. “Or a duck in my closet. Or a duck.....”

“Ya, we get it! You don’t like ducks!” Sana said, finally laughing. “You promise you’ll help us?”

“Of Course! I will be your soul-roommate.” Hua said as she started hugging Sana, the first for many to come.

Momo cleared her throat, “So, Uh, Can we go get food now?”

[fanartfunart]

Fly Away

Episode 2: The Collector

Ao3 - First

(Féline Sombre & Paon Lilas designs)

Summery: An AU where Adrien never went to in-person school, not getting the cat miraculous, and found the peacock miraculous. -Gabriel Agreste sets out his plan to protect his identity as Hawkmoth. (and try to get some miraculous)

(this is like... twice as long as the first one...whoops)

Adrien felt like a ragdoll. Chloé squeezed him around his shoulders and shook him; squealing the entire time. He just went limp. Resigned to being dragged around from the doorway.

“Hi Chloé. Hi... Sabrina? Er…" Adrien stared at the comically tall stack of luggage, only identifiable as Sabrina by their favored shorts over tights style on the legs behind the luggage. "Is this… a sleepover?” His father barely let them over anymore, how did Chloé convince his father to let them stay overnight?

“Hi,” Sabrina said, muffled from under the piles of luggage.

“It is Adrikins! Your father finally stopped being a stick in the mud for once! I have sooo much for us to do. It simply can not be all done in a measly hour. Sabrina, the guest room is over there, we’ll be sleeping there.” Chloé pointed, and Sabrina grunted in effort before they made their way towards the room. 

“Do you need help, Sabrina?” Adrien asked, watching her fumble with the tower of luggage.

“Oh she’s fine, aren’t you Sabrina?”

“Uhhh, yep! Just fine!” They kicked open the door before Adrien could escape Chloé’s hug to help. She stumbled, and the luggage fell into the room. Sabrina rebalanced themself with the skill of a gymnast, avoiding the fate of the luggage. They looked at the mess and sighed, shoulders sagging.

“See? Now!” Chloé grabbed Adrien’s arm and pulled him towards his own room, “I need to tell you everything about this new hero I met!”

“Oh. Okay?” Chloé had been most of his first-hand information on the superheroes of Paris. Obviously he’d seen the newscasts, and, despite Chloé’s insistence that the “Ladyblog” was unreliable, he followed that too. But Chloé was who he got the details from. He’s been reconsidering some of the stories from Chloé’s hand in causing the last akuma. 

While listening to Chloé embellish her own role in a story he was in, Sabrina eventually returned. She smiled and sat, listening to the last of Chloé’s tale. “After the fight I did get a good look at Paon Lilas. He was kinda cute. Not as cute as you, though, my Adrikins!”

Adrien chuckled and shook his head. “I’m sure he’d look just as cute with a team of people doing his makeup, hair, and wardrobe for him.” 

“Shh, you’re not giving yourself enough credit.” She rolled her eyes, waving a hand dismissively.

"Well, I don't know about him..." Sabrina said cautiously, "When I came in at the end there... Ladybug seemed pretty suspicious of him. Maybe there's something we don't know?"

"He did seem sorta new, but he gave me a real Mr Cuddles! No strings attached like with Hawkmoth. Really, he can't be that bad."

Adrien nodded, "I'm sure he did what he thought was right…"

Sabrina hummed, "Probably..."

Chloé shook her head and waved a hand "Anyway, Sabrina show Adrien our surprise!" 

"Oh! I'll go get it!" They stood up and raced off to collect whatever it was.

-

Sabrina stared up at the stack of suitcases and sighed "This… may take longer than intended."

Plagg zipped out of her purse and propped himself on top of one. "Ugh why go through the effort? Just tell her you broke it when you tripped."

"Chloé is my best friend Plagg, and Adrien is a good friend too. He's been pretty upset since he couldn't go to school. Least I can do is find the gift."

"Blegh, what kid wants to go to school. If I lived in this fancy place I'd be eating camembert all day long!"

Sabrina chuckled and shook her head "You do that anyway. Come on you lazy kitty, at least help me look." They hefted the first suitcase and started carefully looking through it.

Plagg groaned. Then dramatically huffed. Then sighed twice as dramatically and zipped away to find something more interesting. Like cheese, perhaps. 

Sabrina looked up and frowned at the lack of kwami. "Plagg!" She whisper-yelled. Abandoning their task, they ran after their kwami. 

"Oooo, what's this?" Plagg disappeared into a room, and Sabrina followed. He glanced around the room then shrugged, "Boring, next?"

"What's that?" She gestured at the ajar painting. A… door? She stepped over to find a safe.

Plagg hummed. "Okay, interest spiked. Let's see what they're hiding in there."

"Oh I don't think we should. We should get back to finding Adrien's gift-"

Plagg already disappeared into the safe. The door opened and Plagg riffled through the contents, muttering about what was there. Sabrina tilted their head, and Plagg handed her a book. "Pretty mundane if you ask me. I was hoping for a secret food stash, maybe the World's Finest Camembert."

Sabrina shook her head and flipped through a few of the pages. "Miraculous? Why do the Agrestes have this in a safe?" They glanced at the portrait. "Behind a painting…"

"Sabrinaaaaaaa what's taking so long? And fetch my nail kit! My nail chipped!" Chloé called.

"I'll go down and help her-" Adrien responded. Sabrina gasped and closed the safe, and ran back to the guest room…. And they still had the book! Ohnoohno. She scrambled for a place to put it before shoving it under a pile of clothes in Chloé’s suitcase.

Adrien walked in with Chloé trailing behind. "Adrikins it's a surprise, don't you know the meaning of surprise?"

He chuckled "I do but Sabrina, don't you want some help?"

They stared a bit at him, "It might be nice? There's… a lot of suitcases here…"

Adrien gave Chloé a 'See?' look, and picked up a suitcase to look through. "What am I looking for?" 

"It's a surpriseeeee," Chloé huffed.

Adrien smirked, and picked up a shirt, showing it to Chloé "This it?" He picked up a lipstick "This it? Oh what about this?" He picked up a set of earrings, placing them against his ears. Sabrina giggled as he continued, shaking her head.

Chloé groaned and sat on the edge of the bed, looking at her nails with a pout. Sabrina quietly handed her a nail kit from their own purse, earning a smile. 

Adrien found it. He pulled out the DVD and tilted his head "What's this?"

"I uh, convinced the class to do a virtual hello- since you couldn't- uh, I also have something else if you don't like it."

His eyes got shiny, and he rubbed his cheeks, smiling, "Thank you. Really." He pulled Chloé and Sabrina into a hug.

Chloé looked a little startled. She likely was used to having to start the hugs, but softened into the hug.

He pulled back with an awkward giggle, "Sorry, uh, I'll watch this later. Really, thank you."

"Yeah, no trouble at all. Apparently one of the kids is like, all about film making. He kinda took over, actually."

Adrien giggled and nodded, "Well, I'm sure you have other plans too-"

Chloé fluffed her hair, "But of course! I have the whole day planned!"

Adrien gave Sabrina a look, clearly looking for comradery in the exhaustion of Chloé’s day-long itinerary. She smiled and shook her head, ready to help Chloé make her plans reality.

-

Chloé had the book. Sabrina stared at it. Why did Chloé have the book? Chloé did not waste a minute to dramatically show off the book.

"Can you believe there's tons of other superheroes that aren't active?" Chloé called, almost immediately summoning the class to surround her and the book. 

Sabrina was going to die of mortification. How were they going to get that back to the Agreste house? Chloé wasn't going to just let her put it back now that it was her newest attention magnet. 

Marinette wasn't late for once. Although, she did feel late. She hopped up and down trying to get a look at what was at the center of the small crowd.

"Is there a horse superhero?" 

"I wonder if Ladybug and Féline Sombre have powers we don't know about."

"Do you know what language that is?"

Tiki gasped. Marinette’s eyes widened as Tiki weaved in and out of the group of teens’ legs. 

Marinette stared anxiously. Tiki returned quickly. “We need to get that book, Marinette!”

“What?” Marinette cried, but thankfully the only weird look she got was from Ms. Bustier.

Ms. Bustier clapped and the group dispersed disjointedly. “Alright class, that’s enough. We do have more to learn about than superheroes.”

Marinette anxiously watched Chloé’s new book the entire class period. The book was mocking her, sitting on the desk like it was innocent.

Marinette eventually got her chance at the end of the school day. Chloé was once again showing off, as Sabrina tugged on her arm, apparently trying to get her to come with her. 

Lila was on her other side, with her head tilted in curiosity. "Where did you get this?" Lila asked.

"It's one of a kind and totally a secret~" She fluffed her hair.

"Come onnn Chloé." Sabrina tugged on her arm again. Hard. Chloé stumbled backwards, and Sabrina caught her, face flushed with embarrassment. "Ohmygosh I'm so sorry!" The book was on the floor. 

Chloé gaped. She pulled herself from Sabrina and walked away without a word. Sabrina immediately followed after, abundant with apologies. 

Marinette dove for the book. And hit her head against Lila's. 

She grinned uneasily at her. "Hi Lila." She tugged on the book, with resistance from Lila.

"Hello Marinette, I've got it don't worry." She tugged back, and Marinette's grip hardened on it.

"I can go to return this to Chloé, they look like they're going my direction anyway. No need for you to go out of your way!" She smiled broadly.

"Oh no, it's fine, I wanted to ask her more about it anyway."

Marinette's smile strained, "Funny, so was I."

Lila yellped. She jumped up and twirled, as if she was stung. Marinette only just barely noticed a red blur return to her purse. She raised a brow. Tiki sure was going to great lengths to make sure Marinette had this book.

Marinette pressed the book against her chest and ran in Chloé’s direction. "I'll tell Chloé you said hi!"

Lila huffed and crossed her arms with a frown, watching the girl run off. 

-

"Chloé could be Hawkmoth!?" Marinette cried, dragging her hands over her face as Master Fu gave her a confused look. "Bah-wha? I need a plan of attack! Paon Lilas did immediately try to protect her so they must be in cahoots. That must be why she torments so many people! She's not waiting for people to have bad days, she's causing them! How do I confront my own classmate? Do I-"

"Marinette! Chloé isn't Hawkmoth." Tiki said, hands on her hips. 

"No?"

"Chloé is a teenage girl, Hawkmoth seems to be an adult man."

Marinette blinked repeatedly. She giggled awkwardly, "Right, right I knew that."

Master Fu shook his head, "But.. Find out where Chloé got the book, and we may find Hawkmoth. I will start translating the book. I am glad you found it, it should be useful."

Marinette gave a firm nod and set out to find Chloé.

-

Adrien stared at the video of Sabrina taking the book and was suddenly very grateful he had thought about cameras when he finally took that brooch…

"Did you know about this?" His father demanded coldly.

He shook his head "No, no. I- didn't know you had that back there!"

"Your friends will not be allowed back here again. Ever."

"What?" Adrien felt like he was sinking, falling, "But father I-"

"They stole the source of my inspiration and betrayed my and your trust. That is not the sort of people I want you associating with. That is all."

Adrien slumped into his chair as Natalie and his father left the room. He stared out the window as a numbness settled into his chest. He didn't know how long he sat there until he noticed Duusu was curled against his chest. A bird flew past outside.

"... Paon Lilas can fly free."

"Huh?" Duusu tilted his head. "Adrien you know what will happen if you transform too often-"

"I just need to get out of this house. Duusu, spread my feathers." Transformed, he leapt out the window and ran. 

-

"Not quite what I expected but the result is the same. Kids, so nosy, taking what does not belong to them. It is time I got my 'book of inspiration' back, and perhaps a few miraculous while I'm at it." Gabriel Agreste picked up the empty book. "Come my Akuma, and evilize me."

The Collector grinned. "Surely they won't mind becoming part of my permanent collection."

Natalie and Adrien’s bodyguard were all too willing for their likeness to be captured, but the bump in the road came with his son. Adrien seemed to have run away. He growled under his breath. But, as long as he was out of the way of the fight, it didn’t matter. He huffed and made his way out to cause as much of a show as possible. Eventually the superheroes would show their faces.

-

“Chloé, I didn’t mean to! But really we should return the book as soon as possible! I don’t want Adrien to get in trouble.” Sabrina pleaded.

“Ugh, but I finally had something that Lila didn’t!”

Sabrina tilted her head “I- Why would that matter?” Chloé just pouted. They sighed, “Can we please return the book now? Uh… Where is it?” 

Chloé looked up. “Oh nooo, you made me drop it!”

“Sabrina Raincomprix and Chloé Bourgeois,” an ominous voice called. Sabrina spun on her heel. It only took them a glance at the akuma to fall into a fighting stance in front of Chloé. “I am the Collector. You stole my book of inspiration, and for that you shall help me build a new one!” The Collector threw his book like a boomerang towards the teens.

Sabrina pushed Chloé onto the ground before it could touch them. Sabrina got up, and taking the opportunity of distraction, ran.

“Sabrina! You- ” Chloé looked around, finding her friend had already left. “….Sabrina?”

“Looks like your friend left you,” The Collector grinned, “She seems to be all around unreliable, hm?”

Chloé took a page out of Sabrina’s book and ran.

“I knewwww I should’ve just put that book back! Now Adrien’s father is akumatized,” Sabrina turned a corner as Plagg zipped out of her purse.

He shrugged, “Eh, not your fault the door was open.” 

They shook their head. “Plagg, claws out!” 

They vaulted up and returned to the spot they’d left Chloé and the Collector, only to find both of them gone. “Sorry Chloé…” She gritted her teeth and began to search for the Collector. 

They found Paon Lilas before they found the Collector. He was sitting on the roof of a building, legs dangling over the edge, eyes distant. Féline Sombre vaulted onto the roof and walked up next to him. “What are you doing up here, tweety bird?”

He chuckled and looked up at them. “Just enjoying the fresh air. Did you and Ladybug reserve this spot?”

“No, but we do have an Akuma to deal with.”

Paon stood up, “Where?”

“No idea, he disappeared before I could catch him. I already know it’s Gabriel Agreste.” 

Paon stumbled. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes, he’s aiming to add to his ‘collection’ whatever that means.” She gives the boy a glance over, frowning, “Can I trust you to help find and keep him busy until Ladybug shows?”

He nodded firmly. “I’ll follow your lead, kitty-cat.”

Féline Sombre blinked a little then nodded, “Okay, you go to the left, see if you can find him. We’ll meet up at the Eiffel if we can’t find him. Otherwise, call me.”

“I can call you?”

They blinked “Er- There’s a phone in both mine and Ladybug’s weapons so I’m sure there’s one in your fan?... Good luck. I’ll avoid crossing your path.” She smiled a little then they vaulted off.

He watched her go, the numbness sinking deeper into his bones. He took a deep breath in and headed to the left, watching for someone who would look like an akumatized version of his own father… He let the tides of emotions lead his way more so than his vision, looking for some sense of an exaggerated version of familiar cold anger or disappointment.

He found his father, and the expected feelings were there, but it didn’t seem to fit in with the severity he’d noticed from the last akuma. He didn’t know what that meant. He glanced at the fan, fumbling for whatever would activate a phone. He blinked as the fan created a pop out screen. He found a contact for Féline Sombre, but no Ladybug. He raised a brow, and shrugged, tapping the contact icon. She picked up quickly. “Féline Sombre, I found him. He’s just outside the Louvre.”

“Okay, try to keep him busy and away from the civilians. I’ll call Ladybug.” They hung up, and Paon Lilas dropped off the roof down towards his father. 

“Looks like someone got trapped in a race car paint booth,” Paon taunted. His father turned around and smiled at him. He did not like that smile. Was it bad that he was unnerved by his father smiling?

“Hello to you too, little peacock. You’ll do lovely in my new collection,” He lifted his book and aimed, “But before I do, allow me to seize your Miraculous for Hawkmoth.” He threw the book at Paon Lilas.

He ducked and the book hit the guardrail causing it to disappear. He blinked and his father showcased the guardrail's place in his book before swiping it away, erasing it from the page.

"Just stand still, pretty feathers like those need to be immortalized!" 

"I'm allergic to paper, actually." Paon Lilas joked. He circled the Collector, getting a sense of his surroundings and how to keep him there. He really didn’t want to hit his father, even if it was an akumatized version of him...

"How unfortunate." The Collector said coolly. He threw the book at him again and Paon leaped out of the way.

"Really, I'm not much of a by-the-books person!" 

The Collector growled and caught his book, glaring at Paon Lilas. “I’m starting to see that. You’re all just troublemaking children.”

Féline Sombre did not seem to have the same reservations as Paon Lilas about hitting his father. She vaulted in and kicked him from behind. “Whoops, cat’s out of the bag.”

-

Marinette was definitely glad for the Ladyblog. Having notifications on for Alya’s obsessive tracking of Akumas and the superheroes movements has certainly allowed her to find the Akumas that didn’t show up right in front of her. She turned down an alley, and double checked for onlookers before transforming. She found Féline Sombre’s message, and listened to their briefing while she set out to the Louvre. 

Féline was already there keeping the Collector at bay. ...And working with: “Paon Lilas?!” 

“Oh! Hello m’lady!” Paon grinned. The book flew at his head and his eyes widened as he leaped into the air to avoid it. “Don’t let the book touch you, it will trap you in its pages!”

“M’lady? I love that!” Féline Sombre giggled, “Can I use that too?”

“But of course, Mittens. I’ve got plenty more where that came from!” 

Ladybug landed next to Féline, giving Paon a glare “Oh hush Feathers.”

Paon Lilas gave her an uneasy grin which was quickly erased as the Collector threw a kick at him while throwing his book towards Ladybug. Féline Sombre moved in front of her, blocking with her staff. The staff disappeared from their hands.

“I think we need some luck right now Ladybug!” Féline said, shifting into a hand-combat pose.

Ladybug nodded, calling “Lucky Charm!” The magic provided a miniature trampoline. She looked around with a frown.

The Collector meanwhile, threw his book at the entrance pyramid. He kicked Féline Sombre into the resulting hole in the ground, jumping down after them.

Ladybug and Paon Lilas immediately leapt after. Ladybug caught Féline, swinging in from her yoyo. Paon tumbled onto the ground, and looked over to the Collector. The Collector grinned, throwing his book towards where Ladybug had hooked her yoyo.

“Ladybug!” Paon called. It only earned him a frown and a sharp spike of suspicion rather than her following his gesture toward the book. She and Féline tumbled onto the ground as the yoyo was sucked into the pages of the book.

The Collector caught his book in the other hand, tapping the page with the yoyo, “My collection really isn’t complete with some superheroes in it, but, I promised Hawkmoth your Miraculous first.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not much of an option!” Paon Lilas went for a punch, only to get blocked with one hand. He ducked the swipe with the open book.

Ladybug looked around, glancing at Paon Lilas’ fan and the book. “Of course! Bird Brain, I need a friend who likes to play ball!” Ladybug raised her trampoline. 

Paon jumped back away from the Collector and plucked a feather from the fan. He tried to focus on Ladybug’s determination and imbued the feather with power, sending it Ladybug’s way, “Fly away, little amok.” The feather fluttered into the trampoline. “Got a plan? I assume?” 

Ladybug tilted her head at the presence of Paon’s voice sounding much closer than it should be. The mask of light had surrounded his face, and assumedly hers. She nodded. “We’re going to try to see if we can fill up his collection.” 

Paon nodded and a bouncy ball dropped onto the ground, and multiplied on the impact. “Meet Doubounce!” Paon winked and caught one in his hand, “Hey, wanna play ball?” He threw it towards the Collector who caught it with his book, frowning. Ah, yes, that looked like the usual response to that question.

Ladybug rolled her eyes and used the trampoline to rebound the multiplying bouncy ball sentimonster towards the Collector “We need Dou and the Collector a little more contained- Féline?”

“On it! Cataclysm!” They touched the stairwell, causing it to crumble, blocking everyone against the ruin and a wall.

Paon started using his fan like a tennis racket, while Ladybug redirected the senti-bouncy balls towards the Collector. He walked towards her, catching the ones that got too close to him. The Collector pressed the book against Ladybug’s lucky charm trampoline, but it didn’t disappear. 

“What? Full already?” He flipped through the pages and made a move to erase a page, but Féline kicked it out of his hands. They grabbed the book and tore it in half. 

“Miraculous Ladybug!” The swarm of ladybugs returned Ladybug’s yoyo, allowing her to catch and purify the butterfly. Féline Sombre meanwhile, hugged their baton against their cheek. 

Paon Lilas snapped Doubounce out of existence and raced to his father’s side. “Fa- Sir? Are you okay?”

He looked up with confusion, but he didn’t… feel confused. Which only made Paon confused. Gabriel looked at the hero, frowning. “What happened? Where am I?”

“Er, the Louvre. You were akumatized by Hawkmoth.” Paon offered his father a hand up, which he accepted. “Don’t worry, it’s over now.”

“You’re… The new one, on the news.”

“Oh uh, Paon Lilas.” He smiled uneasily, and glanced at Ladybug. Who was suspicious again. What was so suspicious about talking to people?

His father nodded, and then gasped, “Adrien! I must find him.”

“I’m sure he is safe. If he was caught by your book, the miracle cure should’ve returned him to wherever he was last,” Ladybug explained.

“Nothing must happen to him. He’s too precious to me.” Gabriel said, placing his hands on Paon’s shoulders (daringly close to the miraculous clipped to his chest). Paon smiled softly, hearing his miraculous beep, as well as Ladybug’s and Féline Sombre’s.

“I’m sure he’s fine sir!” Féline said, “But we’re about to transform back… Goodbye!” Féline waved and vaulted up to the entryway of the Louvre.

“Paon Lilas. We need to talk.” Ladybug said.

“Oh…” He stepped away from his father and placed a hand over his miraculous protectively. “Er… Get back to you on that, M’lady…. Goodbye!” He ran. 

Ladybug gave a glance towards Gabriel and smiled, “Sorry sir, goodbye!” She zipped up and away.

Gabriel huffed and called up Natalie. “I’m going to need a ride… I have found a few interesting bits of information about this ramshackle team.”

-

Paon Lilas stumbled into his room. "Fall my feathers."

Duusu appeared with a whoop and giggled. "That was awesome!" 

Adrien closed his eyes, standing still as he tried to let the dizziness fade. "Yeah…" He braced a hand against his temple and huffed, "But… Do you know how we can fix the miraculous?"

"Oh no, you're hurt?" Duusu cried.

"I'm fine…" He sighed and sat on his bed, "But it's probably a good idea to fix it if I'm gonna keep using it…"

"It should be in the spell book!" Duusu said, collecting some seeds from a drawer.

"There's a spell book? Where?"

Duusu tilted his head, munching on his snack, considering. "I remember it somewhere!"

Adrien sighed and dropped himself against the bed. "Alright. Guess we gotta find a spell book." He yawned and closed his eyes, quickly succumbing to sleep.

[beskarberry]

Devil’s Advocate

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 5

(The Mandalorian x f!reader)

“That your girl over there?” Mando followed their gaze wordlessly, reluctant to make friends right now while he was busy waiting for you to call him back to your side. “Thought so.” The stranger took a long drag on an inhalant, blowing vibrant pink clouds into the smoky room. “Sorry for your loss, Elios always gets what he wants.” Mando turned again to the stranger, fixing them with his black hole glare, but they only shrugged; watching the drinking game unfold between you and the devil himself.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 11.2k whoops

Content warnings: VICES: gambling/smoking/drinking (reader drinks) Introduction of chapter-specific OC characters. Lots of angst to fluff, sexy times of course.

A/N: This might be more self indulgent than the first chapters but not because of the smut. I kinda go off about fancy clothes so long descriptions of costumes are a big chunk of this chapter.

<-Previous Next->

You hated everything about Canto Bight.

Everything about the city was so... artificial. The stadium flood lights, the glowing neon signs, even the ocean herself had been excavated from the planet’s stubborn sandstone surface instead of eroded naturally by the march of time. To you it was like looking at Corellia’s gold painted twin, a monument to the hubris of all sentient life.

 Even the patrons of the gilded city were fake; their clothes, their makeup, their personalities. Every aspect of them was perfectly curated to deceive and lie, whatever fanciful display would work best to cheat their way to the jackpot. You almost wished you could look past the falseness of it, experience the visual fanfare of light and color that reflected on every surface. You wanted the music and the art and the decor that had been so carefully picked and placed to mean something to you, to sparkle in your heart just as it sparkled in the eyes of the teeming masses. But, all for naught, the gleaming metropolis stung your eyes; and you turned away from it to admire the quaint little space that actually mattered to you.

 You shared the tight quarters of the cockpit with the two strange boys that had recently whisked you away to the stars. Mando was seated in the pilot's chair with his tiny green son perched in his lap, trying to get him to eat his dinner without making so much of a mess. You had already eaten, and you were turning the last hunter’s puck over in your hand, reluctant to get this chase started and take away from the familial scene beside you. It would have to happen sooner or later, and you gave the puck a squeeze to fire up the projector. A ghostly blue fog glowed up into the space above your palm, and the face that looked back at you was surprisingly fair; if not for his crimson skin and long black horns you wouldn’t have known he was Devaronian by his elegant features alone.

 Elios Blackwater was a dapper debonair, his high cheekbones angled sharply under devious eyes towards a sly, sharp toothed grin. The puck notes didn’t specify what he was wanted for, though from the looks of his charming smile and shifting eyes it could easily be anything from a gamblers quarrel to breaking hearts, with a higher reward for being returned alive rather than dead. He would most likely be in a heavily inhabited area, probably as close to Canto Bight’s aurelian heart as possible. You didn’t know why Mando had taken a bounty puck for such a densely populated world, and you would have loved to know what his plan was to get to the city’s casino center before you had arrived in his life. A pair of ragamuffin bounty hunters and their floating baby bucket would stick out like sore thumbs in this gilded mecca of gamblers. If you were going to get to your quarry without being arrested, you were going to have to blend in.

 “We’re going to have to do something about...this.” You said, waving your hand in front of your partner’s ferocious attire, though truthfully you weren’t dressed any more appropriately for the mission at hand. “They’ll see us coming a mile away.”

 He glanced down at himself with a tilt of his helmet, ignoring the mess his son was making of his meal. “What do you have in mind?”

 You weren’t entirely sure yet. From where the Crest was parked you could see the glittering city’s reflection sparkling on the water far ahead of you down the beach, a sight most would find alluring, but to you it was just harsh glare. Nearby where you had landed were other space craft parked up and down the gravelly, machine-carved beach; the pleasure cruisers of wealthy betters made your little scrapheap look even worse than it already did. You watched out the cockpit’s transperisteel window, noting the movement of patrons and their attending droids loading skiffs with piles of luggage, and got yourself a mighty fine idea.

"I think so, but you're probably not going to like it. Stay here." You rose from your seat and kissed the baby on the head, earning yourself a soft, mush-mouthed chirp before you slid down the ladder and let yourself out of the old rust bucket and into the salty sea air of the Cantonican night. Gravel crunched under your boots, and you took a moment to turn and glance back at the Crest, catching the faintest flicker of scope glare where Mando was nervously watching you from the flight deck. Ahead of you a large cruiser was being unloaded by droids, the owners having long since made their way to the casinos, and you made yourself known to the robotic servants with your most charming damsel-in-distress voice.

"Hello! Excuse me! My luggage is too heavy to carry, can you help me? It's just over here on my ship..." The droid nearest you made a stiff bowing motion and tottered after you with the loaded hoverskiff floating along behind. You guided the droid up the open ramp and into the bowels of the ship to where your difficult luggage lay. It never stood a chance, bits of wire and duraplast flew across the cabin like confetti from the blaster shot to its head. Mando lowered his gun back to his holster, freeing his hands to help you haul the skiff into the narrow cabin space, then quickly close the ramp behind you.

The sled took up most of the walking space in the ship, so you got up on top of it and began looting through the stolen designer bags, pulling resplendent finery out into the hazy light. The first tote was full of piles of silk sewn for something with more arms than the two of you put together, so most of those items were tossed to the floor. The second bag was just capes, each a unique and lovely pattern, but nothing more. You demolished the remaining bags, making piles on the floor for ‘maybes’ and ‘definitely-nots’ until you found what you were looking for: a humanoid woman’s clothes.

Most of the unknown lady’s elegant garments would be just slightly too big on you, but you were able to settle on a soft, garnet colored evening gown that would go just above your knees, with extra length in the back. It had a sloping neckline that plunged at your cleavage, and around the bell of the skirt were silver rhinestones that caught the light of the cabin like dewdrops, the weight of them giving the dress a wistful sway. You wouldn't be able to carry much in such a revealing article, but a blaster and a knife alone had gotten you out of more trouble than you would care to admit.

You were fishing through the feminine things for something to do about your hair when you caught Mando in the corner of your eye. He was leaning against the hull wall, just watching you as you made a fat mess of the Razor's interior. You smiled down at him from your floating perch and held up the fanciful garment that you had picked out for him to see. "You like it?"

"It doesn't suit you, mesh’la." He said with a lazy tilt of his helmet. You had begun to mentally keep track of all the Mando’a he used around you, and you were starting to notice his frequent use of affectionates. You spun slightly so he could get a good look at how the fabric moved in the light, but the hunter gear you currently had on took away from the loveliness of the expensive clothes. You guessed he preferred your killer garb anyway over the flimsy, delicate fabric. Or nothing at all.

"Well, it’ll have to do, and if you don't start picking something out for yourself I’m going to dress you up like a dandy.”

He sighed, long and tired before turning his attention to the silken pile on the floor. You went back to the luggage, finding some knee high boots that were close enough to your size, but had a heel height that was going to make your ankles cry. You picked out some tasteless accessories: some bracelets, and big, jewel-encrusted hair pins to wear as well. The glitzier that you were, the less you would be noticed in this bass-ackward town. When you had made your frivolous selections you hopped off the skiff to help Mando with his costume. He was worse at finding something to wear than you were, having only picked out some of his own black leather gloves and two pairs of pants that were not made for human legs. Mandalorian armor did not come off as far as your metal man was concerned, and you were going to have to find a way to hide his bulk. You convinced him to lose his cloak, chest belts, and the bandoliers on his hips and boots, anything to lighten the load. Loose silks and stiff fiber combos would be your best friend, and you cobbled together what you could for your beskar-burdened buddy.

After what seemed like an eternity you had him dressed to the nines, or at least the eights. You had covered his chest plate in a black silk shirt and stiff black vest. The shirt had wide bottomed sleeves and neat, tight cuffs that hid his vambraces well, but you still made him wear a cinched-waist blazer plus a long, black and silver cape that almost reached the floor. You found a dark red pocket square that matched your dress and tucked it into the pocket of his vest, a subtle, but unmistakable announcement to the world that he was there with you. It was a ridiculous amount of fabric on top of an already massive mountain of metal, but the look was very in-style for Canto Bight. All together he actually passed for something besides a murder machine, and you gave yourself a mental pat on the back for a job well done. Mando held still for you while you fussed with his outfit with only the occasional huff. As much as he didn't like the idea of walking so boldly through the gilded city, he did enjoy your brazen touch each time you added another article of clothing.

“And now for the finishing touch.” There was nothing you could do about his helmet, so you were just going to have to make it look as nice as you could. You hadn’t changed into your chosen disguise yet, so you strode through the messy cabin with ease until you reached the lock box next to the cot. Inside you found the krayt’s teeth that you had gifted him and pulled them out into the light, waving them at him as you stretched over the heaps of fabric on the ground. He raised his hands in protest.

“What if I lose them?”

“You can wear these or you can wear whatever the hell this is.” You held up an enormous chain of jewels that looked like it belonged in the treasure case at an arcade instead of around somebody's neck. “Besides, I know you won't lose them, you like them too much.” He tilted his helmet at you with disdain, and you realized that was precisely the reason he didn’t want to wear them, such lovely gifts should be kept safe and secure. But he let you press the precious trinkets into the recess of his helmet where his human cheeks would be anyway. The frozen pools of moonlight tied everything about his sin-city look into a perfect, glittery bow. You had grown to admire the look of him in his cultural armor, the ferocity of it, the utility and strength of the beskar that shined no matter how much damage it took; and you were a bit sad to see it hidden. The look of the man standing before you had a wildly different feel, though it was not one you were opposed to.

“You look nice, Din.” The sound of his own name coming from your lips made his heart swell, and he reached out for your hand on instinct to pull your knuckles to his brow in the sweet gesture of his people that you both now used. His movements caused the finery he was masquerading in to catch the cabin’s hazy light, and you got excited to put on your own costume and join him in looking like a fool. When he let your hand fall, you bounded over to your pile, throwing the hunting clothes off of yourself as you went. When you were standing there in nothing but your Tattooinian muck boots you cast a sly glance over your shoulder. As expected, the single black eye of your Mandalorian was locked on your almost-naked form, and you realized that in the time you had been together he had never seen you fully naked; just the parts of you he needed to get to in the moment. “How’s this? You like this better?”

When he didn’t answer right away you looked down at yourself and saw what he was staring at. You had forgotten about the marks of conquest he had put there when he had been driven to a sexual frenzy by the last quarry’s poison, still dotting your thighs with dark purple splotches. Not once had you been upset with him for his actions, you were just thankful you both made it through the ordeal alive, but he still looked at the damning marks with shame. He had been forced to break his protector’s oath against his will, inflicting injury to your precious body with his own two hands. You waited until his visor made its way back up to meet your eyes, and you reached out for him to give you his hand. He sheepishly obeyed, and you brought his hand to your lips, kissing at the all-black leather slowly until you heard him sigh through his modulator. You would forgive him a hundred times if you had to, and then a hundred more if it meant he could forgive himself. You pulled his hands to your waist and leaned up against him, enjoying the feel of new clothes on your skin and letting your hands run up his silken arms. “Well you can have this,” You nodded down at your bare everything with a mischievous grin, “As soon as we catch this fucko.” 

This was the last bounty you would need before you made the trip back to Nevarro, but you were still on the fence about how completing your mission made you feel. On one hand you would be free of the Guild’s relentless hunters, but on the other your partnership with the strange metal man and his adorable beanbag of a son would come to a close. You turned back to your outfit and began cinching a pair of thigh holsters to your legs, hiding your wincing face as the leather closed around your bruises; a blaster on one leg and a knife on the other. You pulled on the dress and fixed up your hair as best you could, then stepped out of your good boots and into the slutty knee-highs. There was only one loose end to take care of.

 “Where’s baby?” You glanced around the messy cabin, looking for your foundling. In the corner under a pile of capes there was movement, and you cleared the flashy finery away to reveal your bestest little friend. Big, glittering orbs looked up at you from the pile of fabric, and a tiny toothy grin shined from his cute baby face. “Heya booger, you ready to go?” You scooped him up in your arms for a hug before picking a big shiny scarf up to wrap him up with, then placed him carefully down in one of the gaudy designer bags. “If anyone asks, he is a pet.” The child didn’t seem to care, he was just happy to be included, waving his little pudgy baby hands up at you to hold. You squeezed his tiny paw, then turned to Mando, “You ready to go, Lord Beskar?”

He glanced down at himself, tilting his palms up and shrugging. “I guess so, I feel ridiculous.”

“Good enough!” You made for the exit ramp with a big stride, and almost broke your damn ankle on the first step, falling gracelessly into the arms of your partner. He caught you with ease, and your cheeks went red with his strong, gentle hands on you again for the hundredth time. You got to your feet, but you would be leaning heavily on him for most of the night until the boots were broken in. With you hanging off of his arm the two of you looked like a proper couple, just heading out for a night on the town instead of two bloodthirsty bounty hunters on the prowl. You might let yourself pretend though, just for the night.

You took a transport speeder from the beach to the city’s entrance, then made your way through the gilded streets, following the red blink of the bounty fob towards your quarry. You had to stop multiple times, the fucking boots making your feet hurt like you knew they would. Mando stood patiently with you each time, and more than once offered to just carry you. His visor would glide from side to side, always on the alert for anyone that might be following you, or worse, hunting you down. The tracking fob led you to the most obvious choice of casino: the tallest, brightest, shiniest temple of vice smack dab in the city’s center. 

The front entryway was dominated by a roaring, gushing fountain, shooting geysers in a perfectly timed pattern high into the Cantonican night sky. The fountain was lit up with bright, multicolored spotlights so that every stream of water and drop of spray glittered back in defiance of the stars that had inspired them. Inside, the casino floor was packed with patrons, ranging in size and species in an infinite array of wealth and power. Chandeliers hung high above you from the soaring cathedral ceilings, sending sparkling lights racing around the endless room like shooting stars. Every surface was bright and gleaming, dozens of pillars and statues illuminated by blinding limelight. Even the floor was magnificent, black and white marble with huge inlaid stars, guiding gamblers through the limitless space towards their wildest desires. Again you wished you could appreciate the extravagance of it all, though the way the lights streamed like mercury over the beskar of your pretend date made something else sparkle behind your eyes. 

 The smell of inhalants and alcohol burned in your nose, and you took a moment to make sure your purse puppy’s face was covered with something so he wouldn’t have to endure it as much as you were. The sound of gamblers and music and roaring competition was louder than the screams of the hyperspace engine aboard the Crest, the cacophony of it all making you anxious. You were thankful that you weren’t hunting this bounty alone, and you still held on to Mando tightly, letting him lead you over the cosmic marble floor through the streaming masses. The people paid you no mind, moving out of the way without casting a second glance. Your costumes were working exactly as you had intended, and you applauded yourself for how well you had deceived the City of Lies.

You had guessed that if your bounty would be anywhere, it would be at the center of attention, and you were right. Elios Blackwater sat at the atrium bar, surrounded by beautiful and interesting people. The glint of gold jewelry caught the radiant casino lights every time he moved, drawing the eyes of all those around him. He was telling some kind of wild story that had his little crowd hooked on every word, though you could tell from a distance he was all bullshit. Immediately you knew this was a man that was used to having everything he desired, never being denied a single whim in all his days. A plan began to simmer in your skull, and you knew right away your partner was not going to like it. If you were going to get the quarry alone, you were going to have to persuade him to leave the company of his fans, and you only knew one sure-fire method for a man of Blackwater’s tastes. You let yourself off of your escorts’ arm to turn and face him, pulling his hands to your hips and letting your own rest on his shoulders so that to any outsiders you two would be just another pair of passionate dancers making their way through the counterfeit cosmos. 

“Mando, do you trust me?” His hidden eyes were still glancing around the room, scanning for any lurking threats.

“Of course.” His words went right over your head, his ears too full of the sounds of potential danger to really hear you. You huffed and ran your hands to his bedazzled helmet, pulling it down to meet your eyes. 

“Pay attention, bucket boy. I need to hear you say it and know that you mean it. Do you trust me?”  He cocked his head, confused that you would have to ask twice. 

“Yes, ner cyar’ika, I trust you.”

“Good.” You let your hands fall back to his armored shoulders, pressing yourself up against him tighter. Your fingers fidgeted in the heavy material of his cloak, he was going to hate this. “Because I need to do something. Alone.” 

That got his attention fast. 

“No, it’s too dangerous here. I want you where I can protect you. What if there’s hunters?”

“I know, I need you to cover me, but from a distance. I think I can convince Elios to walk right into the carbonite freezer, but I can’t do it with you looming over me.” You wrapped your hands around the back of his helmet, pulling him down so that his forehead met with yours. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think it would work.” He sighed between your hands, the steam of his breath slipping out from under the helmet’s edge. There was nothing he would rather not do than be away from you, but he did trust you, and he nodded against your embrace.

“I’ll call for you as soon as I’m ready, ok? Just keep your eyes on me, and don’t cause a scene. No matter what.” You couldn’t kiss him like you wanted to, but you still pressed your lips to the side of his beskar before letting go, pulling yourself away from his tender grasp. His hands still floated in the space where you had been as you turned away from him and made your way to the bar, the heavy purse bumping against your weaponized thighs with every flint and tinder step of your sky high heels. As you got closer to the bounty you could hear the shreds of his conversation starting to make their way over the noise of the casino.

“...And I said ‘Darlin’ if you didn’t want to take it home with you, ya shouldn’t have put it in your mouth!” The way he was telling his story gave you the impression that it wasn’t one you wanted to hear, and you started to regret your foolhardy plan. Gold rings and precious jewels sparkled all the way from his fingers to the caps on his horns, making it impossible for most to look away, a fact made apparent by his captivated audience. The beautiful boozers laughed and cheered at his every word, though from his stupidass sounding story you wondered how much of the affection was alcohol induced. You pulled a seat up at the bar a few stools away from the crowd and ordered yourself a shot of spotchka and a couple packs of cookies. You slipped the snacks into your bag for Din’s foundling, you would be needing him for your plan to work as well; and the promise of treats would keep his bright-eyed attention on you. 

The taste of spotchka was vile, but you had started your journey though the galaxy on the gigantic starcruisers that were built on your homeworld of Corellia, and you had gotten to know the taste of the sailor-favorite drink at a tender age. You sipped at your brew, listening casually to the Devaronian’s conversation, but never turned your eyes to him. Every once in a while another bar patron would swagger up beside you to offer you another shot. You turned down anything you didn’t order yourself, but you started telling them fabricated stories about your life among the stars, most of which were wild tales of fancy from old holovids you had seen. You wished you could turn around and find your favorite rust bucket, wherever he may be hiding among the festivities, and give him something to reassure him. A nod or a wave, anything to let him know you weren’t just making him jealous on purpose. 

Soon you were throwing back brightly glowing shots of brew, and a handful of interested patrons had gathered around you to hear about how you had jerry-rigged a star cruiser to run on spotchka when you were a space pirate smuggling kyber crystals for the resistance, among other things. When you had your head tilted back you cast a glance towards the bounty, and saw what you had been waiting for. His hooded eyes were watching you intently, he didn’t like that someone was getting any of the attention pie that he believed was his alone, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he had to do something about it. Soon enough the dapper devil rose from his entourage, running a painted claw through his long dark hair before making his way to you, sauntering with every step.

Hook.

“Well hello there, darlin’, name’s Elios. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing chugging spotchka when you could be drinkin’ something as fine as you are?” The debonair’s words were long and slow, making sure that every drawn syllable would be heard. “Bartender! Get this lovely lady a real drink, if ya please.” You weren’t sure what counted as a ‘real drink’, but the dark liquid that was slid over to you stank even worse than spotchka with the strength of its proof. Elios couldn’t stand that someone else might be having more fun than he was, and he was determined to put you out of commission. He wanted to do it in such a way that you would be thanking him for it, preferably while on your knees. “What’s yer name, baby cakes?”

From the other side of the busy casino you could feel the void of a visor making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Mando was standing on the far side of the slot machines where the light was just a little less glaring, so motionless he might have been part of the decorations. He wasn’t sure what your plan was, or how you would talk the quarry into being captured without gaining the suspicion of the wandering security enforcers. He bristled whenever a bar patron started trying to make nice with you, and only got progressively more frustrated when more and more started hanging around you. When he saw the bounty slink his way over to you he wanted to dash across the marble floor and break his fucking neck just for being in your airspace. ‘Don’t make a scene, no matter what’ is what you had told him, and you had asked him to trust you. So he did as he was asked. Watching, waiting.

“Hmm, I don’t think you could handle it.” Oh, Elios didn’t like that one bit, nobody told Mr. Blackwater ‘no’ without consequences. He swirled a glass of the same dark liquid around in one perfectly manicured hand, his polished claws clicking on the side of the glass. You continued to ignore him, but you started on the new drink in front of you. Yucky, at least spotchka was familiar. He took your acceptance of the drink as an invitation to join you at the bar. 

“You’re awful sly, baby cakes, tell me yer name so I can make you forget it later.” His pointed teeth flashed out from his crooked smile, and you could smell the stench of expensive cologne and aftershave. You rolled your eyes big and wide so he could see just how unimpressed you were, but your nose was burning from how bad he smelled. This was a bad idea, but only because of how well it was going to work. Fresher soap, where are you?

“I’ll tell you what, if you can out-drink me, I’ll tell you my name.” His wicked smile split his face, showing off rows of brilliant white fangs. Party-boy could probably hold a few good shots, but you were raised by sailors, and you were gonna drink his ass under the table. 

“You’re on, sweet cheeks. Bartender! Another round!” Another set of shot glasses plinked to the counter, and vanished just as fast. Elios was eyeing you up and down, seeing if you were all bark and no bite. If he could just get you drunk enough…

Far from where you were drinking the Mandalorian you had asked to trust in you was furious, trying not to thumb the handle of his blaster that poked out from the side of his hip under his cloak. It would be so easy, he could hit the target from here and it would be over, you would be back by his side and not being drooled over by that fucking pathetic excuse for a man. 

“He has that effect on people.”

Mando’s helmet snapped on the sounds’ source, so lost in vicious thoughts that he didn’t hear the stranger come to lean against the wall by him. They were tall and thin, translucent green skin and a mop of hair-like cilia growing from their head to their flowy chiffon clothes. They looked exhausted. “That your girl over there?” Mando followed their gaze wordlessly, reluctant to make friends right now while he was busy waiting for you to call him back to your side. “Thought so.” The stranger took a long drag on an inhalant, blowing vibrant pink clouds into the smoky room. “Sorry for your loss, Elios always gets what he wants.” Mando turned again to the stranger, fixing them with his black hole glare, but they only shrugged; watching the drinking game unfold between you and the devil himself. 

“Another!” You hollered, but the glasses were already in front of you, then gone again. The Devaronian hissed back the sting of the high-dollar liquor, shaking his long mane that had started to come undone. You pretended to reel from the liquor's effects, leaning back just a tad too far on your seat. “Again!” The third round of shots came and went, and Elios nearly fell off his stool. Right where I want you. You waved at the bartender for the fourth and final shot that would probably put the devil right on his ass, but that’s not where you were headed with this show of tenacity. You had to get him alone before you made your capture, or the security enforcers that littered the casino floor would descend on you like vultures. 

You waited til he had thrown his drink back before you tilted yours, purposely spilling a few drops down your front so the booze would trickle down between your breasts. Elios nearly choked, and you knew you had his full, undivided attention. Din, I’m so sorry.

“Woo! I don’t think I can do any more, Mister Blackwater, you win.” you feigned, holding the back of your hand up to your forehead, trying to convince him that the room was spinning for both of you and not just him. His sultry laugh made your skin crawl.

“Please, call me Elios.”

Line.

“Well, Elios, you still wanna know my name? You’re gonna have to work for it.” You placed a hand on his leg, running your fingers up his thigh and around the edge of his waist, pulling at his pockets seductively to drive the point home. Does he have SCALES? What the fuck ew ew ew. He took the hint like a drunk takes to spotchka, flashing you a slurred smile. 

“Well… sugar lips, we can take this... elsewhere.” 

“Sure thing, Elios, lemme just have my attendant take my Poochie up to my room.” You held the heavy purse up so he could see the big black eyes hiding in its depths. 

“What the fuck is that thing?”

“He’s a pet, obviously.”

“What kind’a fuckin’ pet?”

“Purebred.” Your quick answer seemed good enough for Mr. Drinky, and he nodded like that made perfect sense. You raised your fist to the air and snapped your fingers.

The human fortress was at your side in a heartbeat, towering above the two of you. You stuffed the purse in his hands before he could ask where to point his gun. “Here, take Poochums up to my room, mama’s not coming home tonight, if y’know what I mean. Get him washed and fed, and don’t forget to scrub his feet!” 

“Yes Ma’am.” The bag was lifted carefully from your fake-drunk hands, and you tried to flash him your best ‘Please-don’t-be-mad-at-me-I-hate-this-too’ face at your partner, but you guessed the look was lost on his visor. The scene did not escape Elios’s eyes like you had hoped it would. 

“Now what in the Mmmmaker’s Mammaries is that big ass fuckin’ thing? That some kinda droid? It’s damn fancy.” Shit balls of hell.

“Uh.. Yes! This is the finest in personal assistant droid technology! See, look.” You grabbed Mando’s empty arm and pulled back sharply on the fabric, revealing the delicate button panel of his vambrace. “Only the best money could buy...” 

“I gotta get me one of those...” Elios stared bewildered as your personal petsitting droid turned and left. “Well, honey tits, you wanna take this upstairs?” Ugh.

“Oh suurrre… Oh Mr. Blackwater I’m ~soooo~ drunk ahaha…” You were barely buzzed, and you worried that your life among the stars had given your liver bigger balls than a bounty hunter. You wobbled on your stool, for phase two of your plan to work you would have to delay Elios as long as possible. You watched as the man whose heart you had stolen faded away from you, the fancy purse hooped over his shoulder and knocking up against his leg, cape billowing behind him as he went. Alright, Baby Beans, it’s up to you now!

Din was seething under his helmet, pissed as shit that this was what your elaborate ‘plan’ entailed. He was trying not to storm through the casino as he left to take your ‘Poochums’ up to your room, whatever the hell that fucking meant. How could he be so fucking stupid? This was exactly the same ruse you had tried to pull on him from day one. Seduction was your real talent, luring your lovers to their untimely demise. How many times had you pulled this stunt? Was this your master plan all along? Ouch. Play with his heart until you were free of your Guild warrant? Ow. You were just using him to get to Nevarro, then you would fuck off to the stars and leave him behind. After everything you had been through, he was just another notch on your bedp- 

“OUCH!” 

Din looked down to his side where the pain he was trying to ignore was coming from, and saw a fat green paw sticking out of the ugly expensive purse, digging vicious talons into the side of his leg. His foundling was trying to burrow through his thigh, and his claws might actually have drawn blood. “What, womp rat? What do you want?” There was something in the baby’s other hand, something golden and flashy. Din reached into the bag and pulled the embossed card from his son’s grasp. What’s this? There was a set of numbers etched in gold filigree in the top of the card, their shimmer blasting away the destructive void he had been spiraling into.

Key card! PENTHOUSE key card! You had tricked the bounty into getting close enough to you that you could pick his pocket without him noticing. You were luring Elios right into a trap, and your Mandalorian was the snare. Din felt a mix of emotion ranging from relief to shame, how could he even think for one second that you might be deceiving him? You had asked him to trust you, and he couldn’t even contain his jealousy long enough to make it through one hunt. He felt like such an ass, you were putting your skills to good use, at great risk to your own safety, just like he had asked you to from the beginning. This wasn’t just his hunt anymore, it was a joint effort between the two of you, and it was his turn to run the next leg of the relay. The heavy, silver-laced cloak was tossed to the side as he raced to the elevator, fluttering away behind him as he flew to beat you there.

Meanwhile, you were trying to keep the bounty from falling flat on his face, and the only way to do that was to hold him up yourself. His hands were all over you, the nick of sharp, neat claws catching on the fabric of your evening dress and scratching along your skin. I’m gonna break those fingers, motherfucker. He was slurring his words, making disgusting promises of what he was gonna do to you when you reached his private penthouse. You were just out of range of his boozehole, the lippy thing trying to steal a taste of you. Wobbly steps slowed you both down to almost a crawl, which was exactly what you were trying to do, anything to give Mando time to find the hotel room first. You passed a discarded cloak on the floor, the familiar silver inlay catching the light, and you worried that you might have pushed your partner too far. What if he left? What if he didn’t see the keycard and I’m heading up alone? Please be there, Din. Please don’t leave me with this fucking creep. You both reached the elevator, and Elios fumbled to find his wallet, thankfully having a spare key that he didn’t know he needed. The doors opened, and you realized you would be stuck in your own personal hell for the entire trip up to the top floor suite. Fucking super. 

Elios was getting impatient during the ride up, and it took every fiber of your being to keep from retching as his well-moisturized hands ran up and down your spine. The elevator door opened directly into the penthouse, and his perfectly manicured claws dug into your ass to usher you into the room. The top floor suite was dark, save for the lights of Canto Bight shining in through the cathedral windows. You took a mental note of the speeder parked out on the balcony, you would be needing it later. The Devaronian was at your ear, breathing hot, boozy steam around your neck until he was facing you. He went to bite at your mouth, but you stopped him with a finger to his lips.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." You whispered in your most convincing lust-laden voice. The devil chuckled and ran his slimy, forked tongue around the halting digit. Barf.

"Oh yeah, baby cakes? Why’s that?"

You batted your eyelashes and bit your lip into a wry smile before meeting his half-lidded eyes. "Because... you're going to make Daddy very angry."

His lips turned upwards in an aroused sneer, flashing his dazzling, daggerlike teeth, "How could getting a taste of that fiery little mouth’a yours make me angry, darlin’?"

Sinker.

"I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about him."

Elios didn't even have a chance to turn around to see where your eyes were looking before a black and silver fist broke his nose and sent his perfect teeth soaring across the room, throwing him down to the marble floor. Seeing his busted prettyboy face bleeding at your feet made you feel so relieved that a vicious shiver made its way from your head to your toes, and you let your body shake the devil’s touch off of you like a big wet bantha.

"Fuck! Oh fucking hell, Mando, you have -no idea- how hard it was to keep that up, he’s so gross! I’m gonna chuck his ass in carbonite so fucking hard his horns’ll break off!" Your partner was still squared up, just waiting for the interloper to try and get up and fight. He wanted the bounty to get up, flail, scream, any excuse to hit him again. But Blackwater was out cold, staining the white marble floor with his blood.

"You looked like you were handling it."

The deadpan tone of his voice told you that wasn't exactly a compliment, remembering the jealousy that had seethed out of him on Tatooine after that Trandoshan had tried to capture you. You had two choices: you could either try to defend yourself and your unconventional bounty catching method, or you could turn that jealousy in your favor. He didn’t remember much from his toxic encounter with the Ardennian, but you knew that every filthy, possessive thing he had said to you that night was still somewhere in that chrome dome of his; and you became determined to bring them to the light. You crossed one arm over your chest, raising the other to tap a finger against the corner of your lips.

"Oh? You didn't like that, did you? Didn't like that he had his hands on me? Touching things that don’t belong to him?" He didn't answer, but the creaking of leather from his fists tightening told you what you already knew. "Tell me, Mando."

"N-no." His visor remained fixed on the unconscious body still bleeding on the floor. Not good enough.

"No what?"

"No. I didn't like that." His voice was low and raspy, but only because he was trying to keep the boiling rage in his chest from blowing his fucking helmet off.

"Tell me what you didn't like." You stepped over the quarry to your man, running your fingers from his balled fists over his silk and steel arms until you were at his shoulders. You could feel the slightest shudder under all his layers at your touch.

"I didn't like him touching you. Nobody should put their hands on you, cyar'ika" His fists lowered to his sides but his visor was still on the floor. You let your hands wander up his neck to the bejeweled recesses of his helmet and turned him to meet your eyes.

"Why not?"

"B-because..."

"I want to hear you say it."

"Because you are mine." He growled through his helmet so hard that you swore you saw it vibrate, sending a delicious tingle though your spine. Atta boy.

“Again.”

“You are mine!” Even behind the beskar you could hear the clench of his teeth biting back deeper desires. His hands went to your waist, pulling you tightly to his chest. The fire coming off of him was scalding, you had pushed your luck too far with this one, and you could feel the volcano inside his ribcage boiling over. He was furious. His heavy armored head pushed against your brow, and you let your thumbs wrap around the bottom of his helmet to find the thinnest sliver of skin where the metal met the man.

“That’s right, I’m all yours.” When you had said that line to him the first time, you had been plotting your escape from his clutches, but as the reassuring words left your lips you knew there was nobody else in the galaxy you would have running their hands up your sides; and you mentally crossed ‘seduction’ off of your list of hunting skills for good. His oath of me'dinuir had swore him to your side alone, and now you knew without a shred of doubt that you wanted it to go both ways; whether you were Mandalorian or not.

You kissed at the bottom of his visor, so close to getting to feel the true, living flesh of him, and yet so far. You had to have him, you had to purge the demon’s touch from your body with the purifying fire of your protector’s rage. A choked, needy groan made its way out of the modulator, and you felt the heat of his breath on your skin. How desperately you wanted to taste it, fill your mouth with the flavor of him to replace the vile spotchka. You pushed up on his jaw, giving you just a tiny glance at his scruffy chin, and you forced your kisses into the tight, unyielding space of the beskar prison. It wasn’t enough for you, but it was a start, and you could feel his body starting to unwind at your touch. “Kiss me. Please, Mando.”

“Cyar'ika, it's not safe here.” He hated the sound of his own words, the denial of them crushing his very soul. You glanced around the dark penthouse and saw you were alone save for the crumpled devil on the floor and the designer purse that had been stashed in the corner of the room, its occupant still working on the bags of cookies. No eyes on us.

“I won’t look, just... lift your helmet a tiny bit, tin man, I need you, I need to kiss you.” You guessed you were safe enough from prying eyes, but you wouldn’t spill his name to the night just in case there were any sneaky listeners. You squeezed your own eyes shut and nipped at the armors edge again, and just ever-so-slightly began to push up on the unforgiving metal with your thumbs. You were just waiting for his hands to shoot up, to grab your wrists and halt your actions, but they were locked to your sides. Inch by inch you gradually lifted the armor, he would have all the time in the world to stop you, but when you felt the heat of his lips crash against yours you almost let your knees buckle out from under you. His strong arms were tight on your back, pulling you into him so he could kiss you harder.

So much better than spotchka. He was delicious, his taste, his feel, his scent, everything about him was intoxicating. So much more so than the despicable brew you had been throwing back all night, and a thousand times better than anything Elios could have offered. Blech. You realized then why the bounty had smelled so bad to you, though his perfume was expensive and his clothes freshly pressed, he was wrong for you. The wrongness was so overwhelming that it had nearly made you lose your drink, and you didn’t realize how wrong something could be until you tried to compare it to what was right. Din was right, he smelled of leather and beskar and the sweat of a man that had nearly combusted when someone else was at your side. And fresher soap! Thank the Maker.

A soft leather hand went to your head, pulling you into him so he could taste you better. His tongue ran over your lips, darting into you to find yours so they could dance together. You bit him playfully, and the way his breath hitched in his throat sent the fire of your core shooting all the way to your fingertips; and you knew right then that not even kissing his forbidden face would be enough for you. You pulled yourself from his lips, the snap of teeth following your retreat, reluctant to let you leave from the heat of the moment. Carefully, you let the beskar slide back down to cover him, and the anguished whine he let out into the night air almost broke your heart.

“I know, I know, I’m so mean to you, aren’t I?” With him covered you glanced around the room until you saw the private bar. With your thumbs hooked in the pockets of his borrowed vest you guided the two of you towards it until the granite countertop knocked against your ass. You used his shoulders for leverage, hopping up onto the cold surface and wrapping your knees round his waist, happy to find exactly what you were expecting to throbbing between your legs. He pushed himself against you, the feel of his stolen silks on your holstered thighs giving you goosebumps. His heavy metal head fell against your shoulder, and you wrapped your arms around him to hold him close while he ground up against your heat. He couldn’t contain himself around you, though you wouldn’t want him to if he could. You rocked your hips in time with his needy thrusts, and the growls in your ear almost made you think he would come undone with his pants still on. Can’t have that now, can we? "Mando, please fuck me, I can't wait anymore."

You heard thunder rumble out of his chest, sending electricity from where he was pressed to your shoulder straight down to where he was pulsing against your core. He was going to bring you the stars, alright, but not the ones in the night sky. He pulled back so he could look into your eyes from behind his visor, bringing a hand up to caress your pleading face.

"No, I don't want to fuck you." Your eyes shot wide, shocked that he wouldn't want you when he was rutting so hard into you that you could almost feel the dampness of precum through his layers. He saw your face and shook his head. "Elios wanted to fuck you, all of those creeps at the bar wanted to fuck you.” His helmet shook, trying to loosen the words he wanted to say. “No... I- I want to be better than them, I want to give you something else, s-something more.” He was struggling, his inexperience making it difficult to say what was on his mind. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be like them, he wanted to be worthy of you in ways they never could.

“Then make love to me instead.”

 “Yes!” The words leaving your lips were like music to his ears, so much more lovely than any song. “I want to do that! I want to make love to you, cyar’ika, if you’ll have me?”

You laughed, nodding your head to hide your bright red cheeks. How he managed to be so ferocious and so sweet on the same day was a mystery you didn’t want to solve. He quickly glanced around the room one more time just to be sure you were alone, the light of the gilded city sending streaks of color over the charms you had pressed to his cheeks. Satisfied that you were the only ones awake in the room, he leaned away from you to rip the constricting blazer off of himself so hard the fabric around his chest and shoulders started to tear. Beskar plates twinkled in the limelight, sending stars flying around the room while he worked his pants open. The sight of him springing into view made your heart flutter, among other things. Long and strong, a pearl of precum glimmering in the dark of the penthouse. His hands went to your legs, the leather of his palms snagging on the straps still belted to your thighs as he pushed the elegant fabric of your dress up to your waist. 

“You’re soaked.” You wished you could see what he saw through his visor, the sound of hitched breath telling you he could see you blooming for him clear as day, drinking you in with his hidden eyes. He hooked a thumb in the wet fabric of your panties to pull them out of the way, using his other hand to grip his cock and run the tip over your entrance, bumping against your clit while he lubed himself with your slick. You had to lean back until you were laying on the cold granite countertop, tilting your hips to the edge of the bar so he could see all of you on display. He pressed himself up and in, filling you slowly so he could indulge in every inch that disappeared inside. Your stretched walls clenched around him, making him shiver with each coiled squeeze. The Mandalorian you were giving yourself to pulled himself out of you carefully before thrusting back into you again, fighting every animalistic urge to just plow you into the bar. He was going to make good on his word, he wasn’t going to just fuck you.

But maybe he should have.

“Bing!” 

The penthouse elevator door chimed, and both of you pointed blasters on the figure that walked out from the pink haze of the lift into the dark of the room. “Elios? I know you’re up here, I’m just going to get- Oh. There you are.” The stranger spotted the crumpled, unconscious body on the floor, crossing the room until they stood over him. “About time someone split that beautiful lip of yours, Lee-lo.” The stranger that Mando had run into on the casino floor turned their tired eyes to the pair of you, noticing your obvious state of passion. “Oh please, don’t stop on my account, that’s not the worst thing I’ve walked into up here.” They squinted in the dark, then gasped softly, “Wait, it’s you! Oh good! I saw you when you were dancing and was just heartbroken when Lee-lo came between you.” The tall stranger did a little dance. “Fucking Elios.” They kicked at the Devaronian on the floor, “All he lives for is breaking hearts. I’m glad you two made up.”

The wisp of a stranger bent down to the motionless figure on the floor, yanking one of the gold rings from his horns. They said something too low for you to hear, then got up and left in another cloud of pink smoke, the elevator door closing behind them.

You both lowered your blasters, trying to wrap your collective heads around what had just happened. Mando was still buried to the hilt inside you, and you could feel him pulsing with need; but he had been right from the beginning. You weren’t safe here.

“That’s probably not the only spare key. We should go.” You whispered, trying to get your blaster back to its holster under your dress. He groaned, he was getting sick of being torn away from you. He pulled himself almost all the way out, thrust in one more time for good luck, and released himself with a pop! He pulled you to your feet, helping you down from the bar and onto the Maker-forsaken boots you still had on. Fuck these. You ripped the boots off, chucking them somewhere into the dark and crossed the room barefoot to where the oversized purse held the foundling. You were happy to see him all tuckered out in a pile of cookie wrappers, probably not the healthiest thing for him, but it worked. Behind you, your armored companion was hauling the quarry over his shoulder none too gently, ‘accidentally’ knocking his bloody head against the wall as he turned back to you. You both made for the balcony door to the speeder you had noticed earlier, tossing the bounty in the back seat like a bag of garbage. 

The ride back to the Crest was thick with anticipation, you weren't finished with each other just yet. Mando pulled the speeder right up to the ramp so you wouldn’t have to walk across sharp gravel, chucking the bounty in after you so hard he slid through the messy cabin and smashed into the wall. You slung the damned devil into the carbonite chamber, punching the freeze button with gusto. The ramp closed behind your armored companion, barely giving you a chance to get up onto the hoverskiff that still dominated the cabin floor before the lights went off. You yanked the dress over your head, listening for the sound of more fabric hitting the floor, then the clanking of beskar being tossed carelessly aside. Belts and snaps and zippers went flying, and you had to try not to laugh at the absurd amount of clothes he had to take off. The skiff tilted with new weight, and the body of a Mandalorian was on top of you, warm lips hunting for yours.

He’s naked! Every piece of armor and shred of clothing was gone, and the feel of bare skin against your body was electrifying. His mouth crashed against yours, fervent kisses desperate to taste you again. You let your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him into you to kiss back. He was hungry for you, biting at your mouth and tongue like a man starved. Plush lips made their way from your mouth down your neck, nipping at your throat and sucking the tender skin until you had bruises to match the ones on your thighs. His hands wandered down your body, rubbing at your breast and teasing your nipples until you were gasping for more. The devious digits moved on until his hand was between your legs, pushing at your folds and finding your clit to spin circles on. He was becoming an expert at finding what made you squirm and whine from his touch, rolling callused fingertips into you until you were making a delicious mess on the pile of stolen silk. 

But he wasn’t done there. The fuzzy kisses went from your breast down your belly to where his fingers were working into you. He pulled his hands from your soaked cunt and replaced them with his face, pushing his tongue up against the tiny ball of nerves that had so much power over you. Short, quick circles between long, languid licks had you arching your back and pulling his hair, demanding more. Lost in the heat of your thighs he was happy to give you everything, pushing the smooth muscle of his mouth into your slit and upwards against your clit until you were seeing stars again. 

Your hands couldn’t stop exploring him, from his thick head of curls to the strength of his shoulders. The muscles kept going, tight coils on his back and the warm, rigid wall of his chest. The trail of fuzz on his belly went up farther than you were expecting it to, and the fine hairs tickled your fingers on almost every inch of his skin. Your hands trailed over the numerous, vicious scars that marred his flesh like a road map of every near-death experience he had lived through. Gashes on his arms and burns on his sides had healed over into smooth, textureless skin, the marks of a seasoned hunter that nobody but their barer had ever seen.

Having drank his fill, he pulled his face from the apex of your thighs, pushing your knees apart and quickly sheathing himself in you with a ragged groan. Mando’a praises poured from his lips, some you were familiar but many you weren’t, though all of them made your heart flutter. Strong hands wrapped around your knees to keep you in place on the wobbly sled while he pounded into you, the feeling of bare skin on the backs of your legs making you wish you could see him in the light. But the darkness was the greatest keeper of secrets, hiding your love making from the condemnation of his creed. 

Make love. Though the phrase was just another on the long list of euphemisms used for sex, the pair of words weighed heavy with meaning in their new context. You wanted to explore the concept the way your hands explored his body, but the fire of your core was thrumming with heat, demanding your undivided attention. Din fell forward to your chest, the sweat of his efforts sticking to your breasts. Wandering kisses sent fire over your skin as he made his way over your peaks, sucking hard on their tender buds. Beskar-strong hips rocked against yours until you saw fireworks again, bearing down so hard on him with your orgasm that he sank his teeth into the crook of your shoulder. Bites made their way from where he had surely drawn blood on your flesh up your neck til they turned to kisses again. His brow pushed against your forehead, though your lips were right there he still defaulted to the only show of affection his armored inheritance allowed. Hot gasps of air puffed over your skin from the heat of his breath, and you knew he was close. You locked your legs around him, forcing him to pump every last drop of himself into you, painting your walls with his seed until it was spilling down your ass onto the piles of clothes.

The strength of his arms gave up, and he let himself fall against you, his face pushed against your cheek. You could feel his bristles brushing over your skin as his breath heaved, soft but scratchy. His hands wrapped under you and up your back, hugging you to his bare chest so hard the air was squeezed from your lungs. Fuzzy-lipped kisses dotted your cheeks and face, taking extra time to kiss your lips, each one a promise of more to come. You dragged your nails over his back, making him groan and shake at the touch. Never had anyone to scratch that itch, have you, tinman? Tight muscles loosened under your careful touch, making him sink harder onto you until you couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. 

You wanted to stay there forever, but as the sweat on your bodies cooled it became sticky and made pulling yourselves apart a chore. Both of you reluctantly made your way off of the skiff, clinging to the walls of the cabin while he hunted for his helmet in the dark. Lights came on gradually once his bucket was back in place so you could find your own clothes, and when you had both gotten yourselves put back together you piled everything you had stolen onto the hoverskiff and pushed it back down the ramp of the Crest. The Mandalorian was back in his beskar, and he cocked his vambrace back and shot a wall of fire onto the little sled, incinerating all evidence of your thievery and passion. The bonfire burned brightly on the gravelly beach of the Cantonican ocean, sending flaming ash into the light of the new dawn. 

You decided to keep the red pocket square that you had tucked in on his costume, though you weren't sure what you would need it for again. Sentimental. You went to the supply crates where your backpack and droid mask were kept so you could squirrel the thing away, when you caught the familiar glowing blue of spotchka at the bottom of the larder. The horrible color made you fucking nauseous after today, but even more distressing was that you realized it was just sitting there unsecured when there was an impish child onboard that could easily get into the bottled brew and make himself sick, or worse.

“Din, we need to put this somewhere safer.”  You held the liquid lantern up for him to see what you were talking about. “What if our foundling gets into it? He might get really sick or-”

“Our?”

Shit. “Sorry, your foundling. Your foundling might get-” Din crossed the small space of the cabin until he was standing close to you, the child in question tucked against his chest. The baby’s big, nebulous eyes glittered up at you, and you couldn’t help reaching out to rub his sail-like ears. He chirped happily at your touch, and as much as you wanted to keep your eyes on him, his father was towering over you, making you squirm under his tilted glare. 

“Say that again.”

“Your foundling.”

“No. The other word.”

“Our?” 

“All of it.”

“Our foundling?”  His helmet cocked to the other side, doing his big metal bird impression. The arm that wasn’t holding the child pulled you up against his chest, squeezed right against the baby in question. The familiar galaxy-erasing hug made you realize how many times you had thought of the child as your own, he was your little buddy, your missing baby when he had been stolen away, your secret weapon that you had hidden in your purse. But he wasn’t your child, he was Din’s, so for him to also be considered as yours…

“Ours.” Above you the word was spoken like it was new, as strange on his tongue as Mando’a was to you. “Our foundling. I like that.”

You couldn’t turn your head up to look at the man who had you wrapped against himself so tightly, but you could smile at the green little child that was flashing you his adorable toothy grin. You little fart, you thought with a laugh, you’re gonna make me go all soft. Almost as though the creature could hear your thoughts he squealed in delight, patting your cheeks with his fat baby paws. You let your arms circle around the boys that had made your life a roller coaster of emotion blasting through the endless sea of stars. It might be a hell of a ride, but you weren't ready to get off any time soon. The memory of the sands of Tatooine where you had been trying to forget the dangers of the universe was starting to fade away, replaced by the moment you were losing yourself in. You were happy to see it go, though your past self would be shocked at how comfortable you had gotten with a magic alien baby and a man with no face.

“Yeah… I like it too.” You hummed into the beskar, feeling Din’s arms tighten even more. You were glad he couldn’t see your face, because the lovely smile had vanished. This is all going to end soon. You buried your face in the tiny space between the foundling and his father’s armor, trying to ignore where the coaster’s rails ended. Only one stop left.

Nevarro, here we come.

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[clouditae]

First Love | 17

Yoongi x reader | 18+ | college au | tattoo artist au | angst | fluff | smut | swearing 

Word: 2.9k

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

“I still can’t believe this is our last year,” Ari says, heaving her final luggage out of her trunk. “Finally,” she mutters, closing the trunk and pulling out the handle from its secure place. She looks to you and grins. “Let’s unpack.” The two of you make your way towards the building where your new room awaits. 

You haven’t seen Ari since she finished her finals earlier than you. Helping her pack her belongings and putting it in her car, she left for the summer. Through calls and texts she told you she spent half her summer with her family and the other half with Hoseok. Now that you finally get to see her again, you immediately notice how short her hair is. Her hair was past her shoulders when she left just a few months ago, and now it’s barely touching her shoulders. Someone as beautiful as Ari can pull anything off it seems. 

As the two of you make your way towards the dorm building, you head up the same set of stairs that you’ve been taking since you moved into the dorms three years ago. This time, thankfully, Ari let you pick where to live, and you chose the second floor closer to the exit door where you can easily leave if you’re in a hurry. And you’re nowhere near Yoongi. He’s always stayed on the third floor, so you took that chance to pick the second floor and the side wing where you will never see him unless you’re forced to.

When you reach the second floor, Ari presses her ID to the scanner, hearing a click and pulls the door open for you. As you enter the building, a group of people are chatting at the far end of the hallway, several bags of what looks to be trash on the floor. Your guess is they finished packing. You wish you were them right now instead of going up and down the stairs. Sadly it’s not and as you pass the first five doors, you reach your room. 

Since you were last here, everyone had to use their key to get inside their dorm, but over the summer the dorms were updated and now you use your IDs to get inside your rooms. Pressing your ID to the scanner, you wait for the door to slowly unlock before you enter your messy room. Boxes and luggage everywhere. 

“Home sweet home,” Ari sighs, entering the room after you and heading for her bed to toss her suitcase along with the rest of the pile. Just like the last dorm, everything is basically the same. One bed next to the door, a desk at the end of the bed with another bed on the other side of the desk, and the second desk between said furniture and the sink. The only difference is while your bed was to your right in your old room, the bed is now to your left with the mirror closets and bathroom to the right. “I wonder what room Hoseok is in. Maybe the same as last semester?” Ari questions, beginning her long journey of unpacking. 

“He hasn’t told you yet?” you ask her, placing your items on your bed to start your unpacking. 

“Just like you, Hoseok never picks the room,” Ari laughs, creating a pile of her shirts and pants on the bed as she pulls out a light pink top, folding it neatly and puts it at the top of her stack. 

You hum in response, spending the rest of the time unpacking and helping Ari decorate the room a bit. By the time the two of you finished, Ari’s phone chimes, her music fading and screen lighting up for a brief second. You watch as she hangs the final strand of hanging lights to the hook on the wall before jumping off her bed and grabbing her phone off her desk. She reads the message. 

“Seems like Hoseok is done packing and wants to see our room,” she tells you, typing away on her phone. “I’ll have him meet me by the stairs on this floor.” She locks her screen and looks to you. “See you in a bit.” You follow her towards the door, watching her open it as the door across from yours opens as well. As the door opens fully you can see two figures exiting their room. One figure you wish to never see again, but the world won’t give you that. “Hoseok?” Ari says in complete shock. 

He looks up to lock eyes with his girlfriend. “Hey,” he laughs. “What a coincidence.” 

“Yeah. It’s really weird,” Ari chuckles, but you can feel the discomfort in her tone as she continues her talk with Hoseok. 

Their conversation dies out as your eyes stick to him like glue. You haven’t seen him in months, but you can see the little details on what’s changed with him. He has an undercut, his hair brushing along the tips of his ears and brows. His face looks more fuller and on his neck, just sticking out from under his black t-shirt is ink. He has a new tattoo–you wonder if it’s a part of his sleeve. Your eyes travel back up and you see that he’s staring at you. You’re the first to look away. 

“I’ll see you later,” he tells Hoseok, voice gruff as you hear his footsteps disappear. 

You’ve missed him. You hate the fact that you’ve missed him, but you do. So much that you constantly had to distract yourself over the summer because if you were alone with your thoughts for even one second, your thoughts would travel to him. From his dark eyes, down to the feeling of his hand when he touched you. You hate yourself. 

“So this is your room?” Hoseok asks, bringing you out of your thoughts. You look towards him, watching as he steps closer to Ari, wrapping his arms around her to hug her, but to mainly see inside your room. 

You chuckle, “Would you like to come in?”

He grins, glancing your way as he releases Ari and opens his arms for you to walk into. He wraps his arms around you as he hugs you tightly. “I’ve missed you, my second best friend.” 

Rubbing his back, you giggle, “Me too.” Releasing your grip from one another, you step aside for Hoseok to enter your room and for Ari to close the door behind the three of you. “How was your vacation?” 

“Amazing. Spent a lot of time with my love and my family. We went to Disneyland.” His focus is on the lights draped against the wall. “I should do this, but I don’t think Yoongi would like it,” he sighs, shaking his head. 

“You went to Disneyland? Was it fun?” you ask him as he takes a seat on Ari’s bed. 

“Hell yeah!” He snaps his fingers in realization. “That reminds me–I got you something while we were there.” Hopping off the bed, Hoseok jogs towards the door. “Be right back,” he calls, opening the door and exiting the room. 

“Are you okay?” Ari asks.

You look to her and smile the best you can. “What luck.” 

“I didn’t know they would be across from us,” she explains, looking at you with a worried look.

You shake your head. “I know,” you mumble and let out a sigh. “At least we won’t be hearing him when he’s alone with a girl,” you chuckle, but you only feel a sting in your chest. 

Why couldn’t you be far away from him? Why is he always right there but never within your reach?

A knock comes at the door. Ari walks over to it and opens the door to reveal Hoseok standing on the other side with a sheepish smile on his face. “I left my ID and my phone inside.”

You laugh loudly, remembering the first day you met him a year ago.

Ari and Hoseok left about an hour ago, the two deciding to go out for dinner. You are currently waiting for Hanbin to come pick you up for your own dinner date he has planned for the two of you. As you double check to make sure your attempt at doing makeup looks good enough, your phone rings, vibrating loudly on your desk. 

Walking over to it from your little make up station at the sink, you see an unfamiliar number. You frown, picking up the phone and pressing the answer button, bringing it to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hello,” the disembodied voice begins, her tone light and customer service like, “I’m looking for Y/N. Is she available?” 

You take a seat at your desk. “This is her,” you say, glancing at the clock on your desk. Hanbin should be here in twenty minutes. 

“Hello, Y/N, my name is Allison from Sun’s Crossing. I’m calling to let you know you’ve been selected to join the summer internship program next year,” she informs you. She continues to talk, but you can’t hear anything besides the rapid beating of your heart. You got accepted. You’re going to be an intern for Sun’s Crossing in New York. 

At the beginning of summer, you confessed to Hanbin about wanting to apply to be an intern but you felt as if you didn’t have enough to catch any company’s attention. Hanbin saw otherwise and pestered you for days to apply for a few internships “because you’re going to get into several and you gotta be prepared to pick the best one” as he put it. You were reluctant to apply because that would mean a year of not being with him–being separated, but that didn’t stop him from telling you to apply. He planned on taking an internship as well, but in California. The two of you will still be together and after it’s all over you two will be working your dream jobs and living in a nice little apartment. It gave you hope, and now that hope is coming true. 

“Hello? Y/N?”

“I-I’m here,” you tell her, shaking your head of all thoughts of the dream coming true. “Can you repeat that?”

The woman chuckles on the other end. “We will be sending you more information on the internship and what is to be expected through email in the upcoming months. Congratulations again.” 

“Thank you so much–goodbye,” you rush, hanging up the phone. You immediately start looking for Hanbin’s number when a knock interrupts your search. Placing your phone on the desk, you get up from your seat and make your way towards the door. When you turn the handle and pull, Hanbin stands on the other side panting. “Hanbin–”

“I got in,” he interrupts. He smiles widely as he repeats, “I got in, Y/N.” 

You smile back. “I got in, too. We did it.” You watch as his eyes go wide before he rushes towards you, lifting you into the air as you giggle and the door closes. 

When the door closes, everything happens rather quickly. A simple congratulations kiss ends up being more than that. Now your nails are digging into Hanbin’s bare back as he thrusts into you, him holding your complete weight as your back hits the door every now and then. You choke back a moan as he hits the right spot, your head hitting the door rather loudly as you feel your orgasm get closer. 

“I’m close,” you rush in a whisper. You’ll never understand Hanbin’s strength, but he picks up his speed and thrusts into you faster and harder. He sends you over the edge before you could even cry a word. You moan lowly into his shoulder as he rides you out, his own euphoria coming soon after. 

He holds you as the two of you pant heavily. “So much for a nice dinner,” he chuckles, the both of you leaning back to lock eyes. “You in the mood to just grab a burger? I’m guessing the restaurants are closing now.” 

You let out an exhausted laugh. “Yeah.” He sets you down slowly, holding onto your waist as you get the feeling back in your legs before the two of you clean up, get dressed and head out for a very late dinner. 

“Ugh,” Ari groans, running a hand through her short hair in frustration. “I’m done with school.”

“It’s barely the first day,” Hoseok states, taking a fry and popping it into his mouth. “You can’t be done when all we’ve had are introductions and go over the syllabus.” 

“Because just listening to them talk about the syllabus and hearing all these assignments that are coming up too fast is already stressing me out. I just want to graduate already and be a forensic linguist!” She tosses her hands up in the air in defeat.

You shake your head. “We’re almost done. This is our last school year and then we’re off doing what we do best.” 

“Yeah,” Hoseok agrees, placing his hand on his girlfriend’s back and rubbing it soothingly. “You’ll be yelling ”objection“ and I’ll be dancing in court to prove your point.” Ari laughs at his statement, earning a small relief from Hoseok as he takes another bite. It’s amazing how he knows her like the back of his own hand. 

“We’re almost done,” she repeats, sitting up straight and finally digging into her plate of Chinese food.

After a few minutes go by of random conversations, Ari looks to you with curious eyes. She smirks. “Have you two said the three words yet?”

You almost choke on your chicken as you roughly swallow the chewed pieces. “Three words?”

“I love you,” Hoseok chimes, twisting the cap to your water bottle off and handing it to you. 

You gratefully take the bottle and chug the water to wash down whatever got caught in your throat. “I haven’t,” you confess, twisting the cap back on. 

“Do you feel like you’re ready for it?” Ari questions, taking another bite out of her food acting as if you weren’t just choking on your food because of her. “Has he said it?���

You shake your head. “No he hasn’t said it yet.”

“But do you feel like you’re ready?” It’s Hoseok’s turn to ask, obviously interested in your unknown love life. 

You’re quiet for a moment, thinking. Are you ready to say those words? You do have feelings for him, and it is something you’ve never felt before. So, are you ready to be the first one to say it? Are you ready to say those three words that can change someone’s life?

It’s scary–it really is, but–

“Yeah, I think I am ready,” you tell them, feeling your heart race. 

The day goes on, the professors you meet today do the bare minimum. No one is ready to start the new semester with a lecture or homework just yet. So, as your final class of the day ends, you pack up your belongings and put them in your backpack. Several students are already saying goodbye to one another after having known each other for a while or just meeting now. 

With everything put away, you slip on your backpack and make your way out of the room, meeting the warm, night sky. You follow a group of people making their way towards the bus stop. A few other classes have just finished as groups of people leave different rooms, all making their way in different directions. As you make your way across campus, there are a few students still scattered across the grounds, several students sitting at the tables close to the food court. Instead of following the group up towards the first bus stop close to the library, you head down towards the second bus stop closer to the Student Union building.

By the time you get to the second stop, you notice the shuttle’s back lights turning on. You speed walk towards the vehicle, just making it in time as the driver closes the doors. Showing your ID, you make your way towards an empty spot in the middle, taking the window seat. Pulling out your earphones from your backpack, you plug it into your phone and place the buds in your ears. As a song plays, you take in a deep breath. The conversation you had earlier with Ari and Hoseok comes to mind. 

You’ll see him tomorrow during your small break between classes, and during that break you’ll tell him. Sure it’s not romantic or anything, but if you feel it, you’re supposed to just go for it right? You smack your palms against your warming cheeks. You’re nervous, but you can do it. 

I can do it. 

The following day you go through the usual introductions to the class, go over the syllabus, and leave for the day. As time gets closer and closer to you meeting Hanbin for lunch, your heart races and your nerves are on edge. When your professor says his goodbyes, you put your notebook and pencil away, and follow the group out the room. Checking your phone to make sure there were no other texts sent from him, you make your way towards the meeting spot where Hanbin should be waiting with your order from the Greek stand. 

When you reach the outdoor seating area, your eyes scan the umbrella area, looking for a familiar face. Before you can unlock your phone and begin searching for your boyfriend’s contact name, you can hear him calling for you. You look around again and find him standing at the far back next to his reserved table. He waves when he notices your eyes are on him. You smile and make your way down the steps and towards him. 

You’re going to do it. 

This is it. 

Tell him.

“Hey,” he says, beaming before leaning down and planting a kiss on your lips. 

Tell him.

“I–” the words catch in your throat.

[deepdisireslonging]

Seventh Time in the Airport

Elias Samson x Reader

Fluff

-‐‐-----

There he was again.

In the past three months, you'd seen Elias no less than seven times. All in the same airport. And often in the same treat shoppe close to the east coast gates.

He grinned. "Hello again." Taking a step to the side, me moved out of the way of your goal. Before you could reach, he grabbed your candy bar. With a giggle, you handed him the bag of gummy sharks from the other side of the shop.

In those seven sightings, you'd learned his name, his job (Wrestling! How cool is that?), and his favorite treat.

"Where are you headed this time," you asked. Together you walked to the check out. Despite your cry of disagreement, he insisted on paying for both treats.

"Connecticut. I'll be pleading my case for a title shot in front of... the powers that be." He glanced away. Seven meetings wasn't enough to allow him to give you details.

It didn't hurt your pride. That he was telling you this much meant a lot. "I wish you luck. Or is it break a leg?" The tops of your ears warmed under your hair. "Funny. I never thought to ask before. How long before you'd get your chance?"

He nodded, a tiny smile tugging at his mouth. "Either works. Oh! How did your presentation go?"

"My project is a go. But you're distracting from the question." Taking your candy, and snagging his so he'd have to follow, you asked again, "how long until you'd get your chance?"

For several meters he was reluctant to speak. Looked perfectly pitiful. He took a gummy shark from you. "It could be anywhere from weeks to months to... never." He shook his head. "Sometimes I worry that... I'll never leave an imprint. My fingerprint on wrestling as a whole. Or on anyone."

You arrived at his gate. Yours was across the way. He plopped down in a seat, making sure the next spot was clear for you. At your feet, your combined luggage made a neat pile. Elias's brow was creased with worry.

"I think you've made an impact." Snagging a shark in exchange for a chunk of your candy bar, you avoided his gaze. "If the only impact you make is a wonderful album, a fan base who thinks you're the world, and passing along a love for gummy sharks... that's at least something." His shrug was noncommittal. "With everything you've done already... I know you are destined for even greater things."

Elias played with a loose thread on his wrist scarf. "Thank you. That- that means a lot." He took a breath. An important question was on his lips.

Across the way, a stewardess started to call for the boarding of your plane. Once she finished, the steward from Elias's plane made a similar announcement. The masses of people stood, creating a cacophonous rush to the gates. Elias grabbed hold of your bag to keep you from being swept away.

"I want you to come with me sometime. I've got a place in the mountains. Quiet. It's where I do m best writing. Would- would you like to visit sometime?"

The stewardess called for your boarding group.

"Yes. I would like that very much. I'll be coming through in two weeks, and ready for vacation, after my project is done. Assuming all goes well. Otherwise I won't see this airport for two months." You were able to drag yourself away. "Just get your title shot. And get me a ticket to the show. We can visit your mountain retreat afterwards."

"It's a date!"

A few minutes later you had fought your way to the gate. Looking back, Elias was fighting the crowd to get one more glimpse at you. Much was unsure. His schedule and yours were always in flux. Sure, you had each other's numbers. But let's face it, meetings by chance of fate were more likely to leave an imprint.

[sideblogformindtrash]

SUMMER OF WHUMP - DAY 4 - ABANDONED

Mind the huge cw. Is mostly just discussing it, but still.

CW: Insinuated no-con; past-abuse; relieving past trauma; abandonment; very low self esteem; humiliation; accidental triggering; bait dog; whipping; starvation; shoved in luggage bag; bitten by mice; gross food; claustrophobia; burns; no-con drugging; no-con touching; mentioned amputation; pet whump; multiple whumpers; human trafficking; muzzle; starvation; neglect; manhandling; cruel/intimate/neglectful whumpers;

“H-hello and welcome to BB’s and Pastel’s show!” ...Pastel turned the octopus plush around as BB turned the camera on. It went from a pink, smiley octopus, to it’s frowning gray insides. Pastel pulled the blankets over his head, leaving only his eyes out “...I’ll be your host, BB, and this is my assistant, Mr.Tonsils!”

BB lifts Mr.Tonsils in front of the camera, waiving his little furry paws so he can say hello to their audience. They pick up the camera, and take it to the bed with Pastel, capturing his pretty pink-ish eyes. 

“C-come on Pastel! Say hi!”

Pastel shifts slightly under the blanket.

“I’m… Not a fan of cameras, BB'' his voice is just a whisper, as he twists the blanket. BB thinks he is kneeling “...I’ll just… be your audience today, okay?”

“O-oH! Sorry!” BB stepped away. That was right. Pastel didn’t have good memories about that. BB pointed it away, making sure only they and Mr.Tonsils were on frame. Pastel seemed to relax, even sitting back and lowering his blanket cocoon “...So, due to technical issues, Pastel won’t be joining us tonight. But that 's okay. BB and Mr.Tonsils are here to entertain you!”

BB smiled, making sure to show the missing little teeth. Just like Blue. Just like Blue… before, at least. 

“...Well, for tonight’s show me and Mr.Tonsils prepared a top 15 review!” BB wasn’t sure if it really classified as such. But it sure sounded nice “BB will be going over all of our old homes!”

They noticed as Pastel frowned, suddenly changing their expression, way more alert. BB only felt more excited. If Pastel was paying attention, it clearly meant the topic of the video was interesting! Audiences would love it! Even… Even if this was never going to be aired. BB could picture the audiences!

...With a deep breath, they braced themselves and started. They had prepared for this. They could do it.

“...BB’s begun it’s life like us all, in b-between white walls and tiled floors of the training grounds. They were worthless and ugly and dumb, BB’s smile never charmed anyone! It took a long time in the store before BB got home. It was and old lady that said BB was so ugly that it hurt, and dumb as a door, but worked well enough to, to scrub her floor” BB smiled, remembering the cozy attic, where they made their first friends, among piles of boxes that compiled their first owner’s life. Long nights they spent alone there, digging through piles of pictures, trying to piece together what a human life was like. Nonsense, it was, because it just filled BB’s head with a lot of silly thoughts.  They lifted Mr.Tonsils for the camera “...BB worked the day and spent the night locked away. In the house’s attic, BB made their first friends. They were Mr.Tonsils crowd, a family of mice, and BB befriended them all, even if they’d bite BB’s feet while it was trying to sleep! BB loved the house, their first owner, and e-every single mouse!”

BB hugged Mr.Tonsil, swinging him around. Pastel was biting his lip, pulling a thread out of the blanket. Good! He was enjoying the story! And BB felt like they were doing good, too. Better than they did at any of their homes.

“...First owner got tired of BB because the stupid Pet let her cat flee! All BB wanted to do was help and clean, but the cat saw their chance and ran away. First owner took BB to a store with a mean looking clerk. They agreed BB was ‘So ugly it fucking hurt’, hoping BB would only stay a few days and them someone would want them” BB rubbed their hand together. That didn’t count as an owner, did it? It was only temporary, in nature. Not that owners lasted very long “BB was at the store for almost a full month, during which they got to eat, sleep and there was no work. BB wanted to make friends with other pets in cages, but they never stayed for long, after all - good pets get good homes!”

...BB was still upset about the store. All of those Pets had looked so nice, so much better than they are… And they never tried to talk to BB. They were all scared they’d be beaten down if they tried, but never were. BB was the only worthless one, that got the punishments… for everyone!

“...BB was bought by creepy looking guy who stuffed BB inside a cage and on a plane and was flown away” BB gestured with their hand, copying the movements of a plane. They had to be on the chair, so it would look nice on video, but otherwise, they would have liked to run around with their arms opened “...Creepy man named BB Bait. They were a teaser for a larger, angrier Pet named Spike, who had on BB a nice punching bag who couldn’t put up a fight. They were nice to BB and even a friend, but scary and cruel when the Master decided they needed to beat them. So BB was Spike’s chew toy, but when they were nice… BB was always filled with joy!”

...They closed their eyes for a second. Those two lives were merged together. One of them had been so short, they could barely remember the second dog.

“...After Spike got tired, BB was sold again, to be another dog's punchbag. And he was the third friend BB had! He refused to hurt BB, would even cuddle them to sleep, and then I was severly punished… For making the Master's dog weak. It was the first time BB tasted a whip, and with dark bruises on its face, BB was sold again”

...They stood in that second store for a week. With no food, and no sleep. They were dirty, and cheap, not worthy of caring for.

“The next Master had BB as furniture for his house. All he did was snap his fingers and that was BB’s call. It would crawl and hold things very still and keep his glass fill, he would rest his feet over BB. If it got boring the cane was always on hand, he could crack in on BB’s back and get it all shades of purple and black. BB didn’t sleep there much at all, it had to stand still behind his bed, all night long holding a water jar upon a tray, in a perfect 90° degree, or there was always hell to pay” BB touched their arm, absentmindedly, a small scar on their elbow where bone had poke through “But BB was ugly furniture, bad and broke away, when Master tried to sit over its back one sad summer day. BB tumbled to the side, knocking Master to the floor. BB got a broken arm and was kicked out of the door!”

“...The next Master that took me in was cruel and harsh, with unusual punishments that left some scars: fingers pulled back until they snapped, weights to BB’s feet, heavy chains and painful strains and the worst - the oven’s flame” BB tilted their head. That Master, too, had scars. They didn’t know how she had gotten them, it was not it’s place to ask. They… They were happy to leave that one “...BB was then lost in a card game, and doesn’t remember much at all. Pills made BB sweet and kind and small. What BB doesn’t get is that they never needed pills - they would never disobey, even if put through awful, lingering pain, they’d love Master all the same.”

...Hazy. Foggy memories. Hands over them, and brushing their cheeks, and so much drool because they were never cohesive enough to form words or move. Blinking white lights, whispered little things that returned to them in dreams.

“...When BB was sober again, they found themselves in a shed, where they were always so alone. The Master was a mountain who only came at night to beat BB down. The days went by slowly, loneliness crushing down, it was dark and cold and hungry, and there were spiders all around“ BB stopped their speech for a moment. This next part was something… that still haunted them. They had done… awful, awful things. They covered Mr.Tonsils' ears. They were afraid of what he would think “...BB, on that shed, made things it would rather forget. Just like the Master forgot BB had to fed! BB might have eaten a few of Tonsil's friends, please don’t let him know, is just BB’s stomach hurt so much and it was the only thing that could stop the growl”

BB releases Mr.Tonsil’s ears, hearing a gasp from Pastel. They turn and smile, but his face is… Pale, horrified. BB shrugs. Pastel always worries faaaar too much. Next one… Made BB feel nostalgic.

“Next… Was the trucker! He liked BB a whole lot, and let BB on the bed and the passenger’s seat! He and BB traveled a lot, seeing magic and beautiful places. BB spoke on the radio, and… And… Had a name! Was called Oreos...” They messed up their rhymes. This… This wasn’t how it was supposed to go “...BB was… Was happy then. His spouse didn’t like me, and… And behind his back, gave me away”

BB’s nails sunk on their arms, as they hug themselves. They… missed those days. It was good, good nostalgia, but what followed made them sick. They had just learned how big and beautiful the world was…

“Next Master… Stuffed BB into a bag, small and stinky with heavy leather smell, with no room to move at all, so much BB’s limbs collapsed when it was finally left out. It travelled around so much, but BB never got to see outside. It was let out during the night to be with Master, and shoved back on the bag once he was satisfied” BB shook their head, as if that would send the memories away. They hated it, hated that bag so, so much. Terrible, suffocating and endlessly boring and aching. And worse… that’s when they lost their name Oreos. They had loved that life. They truly had. “It didn’t matter much, BB was soon thrown away again. Unlovable and worthless, no one could stand BB for much longer either way. BB was sold and sold, always on their way. Next Master was confusing – gave BB many orders and functions, then beat BB down for following the instructions! They likes to trick BB, make plenty of cruel jokes, BB was just a dumb dog, one they only named Mutt!”

...They smiled then. The next one was also nice. His name was Wolfgang, but he was not a wolf. Not that BB could remember.

“And BB’s following owner sold stuff door to door! Saw BB – or Mutt then – and thought they were good charms! BB helped with the sales, being all cute and sweet, and Master was happy at first, but eventually… Sold me!”

And the next Master was…

BB shivered. This one… Hurt a lot. A whole fucking lot. It had been one of the longest lasting homes they had. It had changed the way they saw and thought of themselves forever. It was where they became BB. Bootleg Blue. Fake, useless, worthless.

“…Next was Owner Alvin, who BB loved so, so, so much. He said he would always care for BB… if BB could be someone else. BB had never ever been loved, and the feeling was so gentle and sweet! BB finally understood why no one else had loved it, and what it needed to do so that it would. Blue, a pet who had videos and fame, who had scars BB didn’t have… But I wanted to gain! BB left their teeth rot, BB scarred their own face, Master got angry – Bad BB, bad…” No, no, no. They couldn’t start to lament now. Not when they had gone so far on the video, already, and trough some of the hardest part “Alvin gave BB a room with a  plain white dresser, four pairs of clothes and double of socks! BB knew them all by heart and cherished them, BB loved Alvin, loved him, loved him so, so, so much. 

But …Alvin wanted BB to be Blue, but wouldn’t tolerate it when BB got the knife and tried to make the change. BB watched the videos on repeat, hundreds, thousands of hours on end, BB could cite them by head!

But BB wasn’t Blue, and can never be. BB is unworthy, and no one could love me. BB was shoved in a car and Owner broke his promise – he decided not to keep me, he, he, h-he… He, he…”

BB closes their eyes, bites back a sob. They are almost done now, and even if they completely messed up the last part…. they can push through! They can still make a nice video… Maybe the audience will like that they can be a little emotive?

“...Shoved BB in a car, drove them to a dead end. Left them alone on the streets to fend for themselves. BB stayed there alone and scared and sad, hoping someone would come… Or that somehow, their pain would end. And then Paul and Reina appeared, finding the ugly pet on the streets. Reina said BB did look like Blue! So she wanted, she wanted BB too!” BB smiled a little. Reina was pretty. She gave me good headpats… But BB didn’t miss them a lot. Paul wasn’t so nice “Paul knew BB was worthless, but Reina still wanted BB. BB was taken to their house and for a short span of time, BB was pampered, happy and loved, an illusion that didn’t last. They figured BB was fun to hurt and start to get their way – not that BB cared, loved them all the same”

They turned around for a second, smiling at Pastel. This was something they’d truly love to talk about, for once.

“But the best part was that BB made a friend when living at their place. Pastel was his name! Pastel held BB and told me it would be okay. BB didn’t have to be Blue – they loved me either way. Pastel took punishment and tried to keep Master’s away. BB cuddled them to sleep and they loved each other! They did!” 

BB smiled at this, hugging the plush. One drop of joy, as small as it had been. One that wasn’t stripped away. But the show hadn’t ended.

“…Alas we got back to IF. IF my desired owner, the true maker of Blue, the one who could make BB worthy of love… If he had wanted to. He shoved BB in a cage and tortured Pastel instead, and it was so, so awfully cruel!” BB shook their head, lamenting “But last and not least, Master Fairyman appeared! He took BB and Pastel to live with him! And he has been so nice so far, giving BB colored books! Lovely, nice and nice! And Pastel Is with me too, BB don’t know how long it will last, but BB is so, so to be here with you!”

BB finished, looking back at Pastel and drawing a heart in the air with their fingers. Pastel… is tearing up. He jumps from the bed, not minding the camera anymore, and hugs BB. BB melts, leaning onto the hug. Soft. Kind. Loved. 

“BB…” He finally speaks, still not letting them go  “Did… Did you rehearse this?”

“Many times in BB’s head!” BB smiled. Many, many, many times, all those years… “Did it come out nice?”

“Yeah…” Pastel rested his head on BB’s shoulder, hugging them tight “I love you, you know?”

BB smiled.

“I know”

tagging: @summer-of-whump@pinkraindropsfell

[crystalirises]

i am completely in love with your harry potter au, got any more crumbs? maybe some young georgebur falling in love? maybe some george x revivebur reunion?

(2/2) oh also I have this hc that not only did wilbur trust george with the hufflepuff cup horcrux just like bellatrix, but that he also made george's wedding ring into the ring horcrux (yk the one that poisoned dumbledors hand? except this one wouldn't be cursed obviously) so george would always have a piece of his husbands soul with him wherever he goes :,( <3 this is way to romantic in my head considering the fact that you have to murder someone and literally split your soul in half to create a horcrux🤦

hello! So this might not be exactly what you wanted cause I kinda like...

You know when you want to write but you're like... nah, I'm tired?

Yeah I'm currently going through that XD. My second year in college is starting next week so I've been busy with enlistment of classes and stuff. I did do something about this (along with other stuff cause I couldn't help myself and someone else asked before if I could make like a second prompt for what happens to Fundy after he got obliviated).

So yeah, this is like ten parts of drabbles that take place in this AU. Sorry if this isn't what you wanted. I'm very sorry.

Fair warning, some parts are dark cause... Georgebur are the villains and well they win and this is a Harry Potter AU, y'all know the villain, y'all know what his agenda is.

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31985884/chapters/82666897

I. First Meeting

“You’re all bark, Mr. Soot.”

He stopped, one foot already at the top of the stairs. Wilbur threw a careless glance back.

And, oh, he was glad he looked back. There were many students within Slytherin, and he only recalled the most interesting ones. George Lore had always been very intriguing. “How so?”

“You’re charming, but I’ve seen your… skills. You’re not very sharp.”

Wilbur laughed, moving back down the stairs to where George waited. He’ll show him sharp.

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II. Expelled

“George Lore, the only man I will ever love, I believe this is where we part ways—”

“Wilbur, please keep your mouth shut and assist me with my luggage.” Of all the replies, Wilbur did not expect that. He glanced behind George where a bunch of suitcases waited eagerly to board the boat that would lead them back to the train station. Wilbur was stricken. When they’d expelled him for the murder of some… honestly, he wasn’t quite sure who he had murdered - some nobody mudblood, that was all… one, he had expected George to track him down just for the sake of lecturing him on his stupidity. Yet it seemed, that wasn’t the case. “Well, Wilbur? What do you say? Do we head home to your family’s manor or to mine? Either works for me.”

“Love, as much as I would love for you to stay at my home, what are you… huh?” George rolled his eyes, huffing before finally placing his bags on the boat, muttering on how useless Wilbur was and how he really was just charms and good looks. Not to be upstaged, Wilbur immediately took over, carrying George’s heavy bags onto the boat despite his confusion. He bit the bottom of his lip, watching as George stepped on board, sitting down as he waited for Wilbur to get his own bags into the boat. “Don’t tell me you’ve snuck out. Think of your grades, love, you care so—”

“I care more for you than some school who accepted those filthy mudbloods in the first place.”

Wilbur smiled, “And that’s why I love you. Whoever I killed, they had it coming.”

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III. Isolation

George was growing tired of the same dingy walls.

He never thought he’d end up in Azkaban, but fate tends to surprise you.

They trapped him in there, thinking that the dementors would drive him to the brink of madness.

He’d be damned if they were to devour his happiness. His husband was dead, and so was their son. There was no happiness in his mind, and he could not bring himself to hope. Hope meant food for those damned abominations. He’d keep his thoughts and his emotions kept under lock and key. He won’t let them take what was left of what he remembers of Wilbur and their child.

He refuses to lose them again. Not again.

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IV. Loss

He wasn’t an orphan, but now he felt like he was.

Fundy rushed out of the house, hands wet with sweat despite the cold and rainy weather of London. His bag dragged across the pavement, his shoes splashing against the murky puddles. He didn’t dare to turn back, he couldn’t. Dream and Sapnap would be devastated if they knew what he had done, but Fundy couldn’t stay and endanger his parents any longer. He loved them, they were the best parents a kid could ever ask for. But Sally and Jared Salmon would be better off thinking that they never had a son and that their lifelong dream was to move to the Netherlands. Fundy walked faster, scared that he’d turn back the longer he stayed near the house.

He could feel the tears gathering in his eyes, but Fundy knew he needed to be strong. Sapnap and Dream needed him to be strong. They’ve all lost too much. He won’t cry until the war is over.

Who knows? Maybe he’ll actually like living in the wizarding world.

He just wished it didn’t have to come with the cost of his parents forgetting he ever even existed.

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V. Wedding Ring

George found it to be quite amusing, honestly.

You would think that the Order would know better. Incompetent fools, all of them.

He admired the ring on his finger, a small smile on his face. When they’d dragged him away to Azkaban, they had given him the mercy of leaving the wedding ring that Wilbur had proposed to him with. It was hilarious, if only they had known that they had been looking at a horcrux.

His husband’s horcrux. He shook his head, gazing over at the man who stood at the head of the war table. A map of Hogwarts laid on the surface, his husband’s focused gaze nearly covered by his curly, dark chocolate brown hair. He’d join in on the brainstorming once Wilbur had gained a bit of a plan. While George did adore his husband… he was more the charms than the brains.

For now, he keeps a part of his love’s soul close to his heart.

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VI. Knitting Habits

He’s never held a knitting needle before in his life, but he can’t say that knitting wasn’t fun.

“I never thought I’d see the day. You’re getting old, love. Should I get you a rocking chair too?”

George threw a ball of yarn towards Wilbur, eliciting a laugh as it hit Wilbur directly on the face.

“Ever the humorist, Wil. It would be funny if it wasn’t coming from a man who literally came back from the dead and looks decayed.” He sighed, leaning against the wall of the alcove. Wilbur was still mulling over their plans, a crease in his forehead. “I’m making a scarf for our little son.”

Now here’s to hoping that Fundy would like it. George did do it with the colors of their family.

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VII. Home

He trembled, the effects of the spell washing over him like a pile of snow.

George was whispering into his ear, but Fundy couldn’t hear him over the sound of his own breathing. Dream was dead, Sapnap got hit by a crucio spell, and George was taking him back to be tortured all over again. He continued to shiver, tears pouring past his cheeks no matter how hard he tried to keep himself from crying. The world around them melted back into existence, but all he could feel was his heart beating loudly in his chest and the arms wrapped around him.

“Shh, shhh, you’re alright, sweetheart.”

His captor pulled him along, keeping an arm wrapped around his shoulders, squeezing him every now and then each time he tried to put a bit of distance between them. He was led inside a room, and from the way it looked, Fundy could tell it wasn’t an ordinary guest room. It felt too lived-in, too personal. George led him to sit on the edge of the bed, gently petting his messy and dirty hair.

“It’s alright, Fundy. You’re home with dads now.”

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VIII. Scarf

Fundy scowled, the scarf somehow tight against his neck despite it practically falling off.

He felt George adjust it back around him, fussing over him like he was a child and not some captive that they’ve been keeping locked inside their room. Fundy knew he wasn’t the tallest, his best friends already joke - well, they used to - about it, but George was just a foot taller and still he somehow felt even smaller. He huffed, moving away until his back was against the wall of the alcove. George didn’t make a move to follow him, simply sighing before turning back to Wilbur.

He buried his face against the scarf, trying to bring himself comfort.

If he tried hard enough, he could catch the faint scent of ash and black licorice. Sapnap had worn the scarf at some point during the battle since he thought it looked comfortable to wear. Fundy had given it to him since he didn’t know where it came from and it had been too big for him.

What he’d give to go back to that time, instead of clinging to the fading scent of his best friend.

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IX. Very Dark Blue Eyes

There was a stranger in his room.

Fundy nervously fiddled with the end of his scarf. His wand was still on the nightstand where he had left it, and the stranger was blocking his way. He’d barely seen anyone for the past few months aside from his dads, but he could already tell who the stranger was. The stranger was his age and had long black hair falling past his shoulders. Fundy knew he was a Halo immediately.

“Holy shit… Fundy! Finally, I’ve been scouting the fucking grounds for hours! This place has terrible security, well except for the wards but they were easy to break.” The stranger rambled on and on, each word striking Fundy with more confusion. He wasn’t sure why he was acting like they knew each other. Fundy had no friends - aside from his Uncle Tommy but Uncle Tommy was awkward around him - so he wouldn’t know the stranger, especially since they were a Halo of all things. The stranger moved closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. “I missed you!”

“Who are you?” He moved away from the stranger’s hold, avoiding the stricken look that the stranger was giving him. Fundy scowled. Of all the times to leave his wand where he couldn’t reach it. “I know you’re one of those… Halos at least. Now, how did you get inside my room?!”

“Fundy…” Very dark blue eyes gazed at him, hurt dancing in their stare. “It’s me, Sapnap…”

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X. You’re a Wizard, Fundy

The letter came at some point during the night.

His mama had asked his papa if he’d enrolled Fundy in a faraway school by accident, but papa had said that he hadn’t. They were whispering about it during breakfast, throwing glances at him every so often as though they didn’t want him to hear. He pretended not to care, attention focused on his breakfast. Mama and papa weren’t arguing, but it almost felt like they were. He hoped that their conversation would be over soon, but it continued even after Fundy finished his breakfast. He left his plate on the table before walking out of the dining room and into the hall. Mama and papa didn’t seem to even notice that he had left. Now to find what was the problem.

He found the problem all too quickly, his scavenger hunt cut short by the fancy letter that had been left on top of a table in the hallway. Fundy held the letter in his hand, the paper coarser than most that he’d felt. He knew he shouldn’t be snooping, but his mama and papa never talked about something so incessantly, at least not something about him. He snuck back into his room, the letter clutched in his hand. Maybe he’d failed his entrance exam at the school his parents were enrolling him in? He pouted, but he’d studied so hard for it and it had been so easy for him!

Fundy didn’t know why his hands trembled as he tried to pull the letter open. Mama had folded it back to the way it had been, and he couldn’t really see the trace of ink at the back. A part of him wanted to hide it away, maybe then mama and papa would stop worrying about it. He didn’t know why, but a part of him felt like something was about to end the moment he opened the letter. He took a deep breath. He could handle long hours of studying, even though his mama and papa said it wasn’t healthy for him to stay up so late. He could handle what was inside the letter. With shaking hands, he opened it, scanning the life-changing words that were meant for him.

If he only knew what that letter meant at the time, then maybe he would have just burned it.

[jimlingss]

Sugar and Coffee [15]

Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 15.5 OR Chapter 16

➜ Words: 3.4k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

The white noise rings your ears.   It’s cramped — your legs are aching and you try to shift your other butt cheek off to alleviate the soreness of your bottom. There’s a baby crying a few rows away, the lavatory doors opening and closing, and not to mention, the constant whirring of the plane engine.    You look over to your left. The bitch Jeon Jungkook stole the window seat and now he’s oblivious to your suffering. His doe eyes are pinpointed on the small screen in front of him, headphones in, watching some kind of action movie. Your eyes stray to the screen for a second, but the flashing gets too much and you shut your lids.   You should’ve gotten one of those neck pillows to rest in, even if they were grossly overpriced at the airport.   But there’s no other choice. You put your elbow on the armrest, palm trying to hold up your heavy head and support the weight. As you doze off, your head bobs painfully. You lean back again, trying to find a spot, but to no avail. You nod off again and your neck nearly snaps.   Jungkook suddenly takes off his headphones. “Hey. You can use my shoulder, you know.”   “It’s fine,” you mumble, waving him off.   He stares at you for a second and then goes back to watching.   Though out of the corner of his eye a few minutes later, he notices your head lolling down, neck snapping again. He clicks his tongue in annoyance. “Tch.”   And Jungkook guides your head gently to his shoulder. Then, he flops his head on top of yours to keep it in place. Your breathing eventually steadies and he smiles, returning to his movie.   //   It’s a relief when you finally touch down and after several minutes, you’re finally able to grab your luggage and shuffle off the aircraft after hours of sitting there. Every bone in your body aches from the stiff seat, but you begin to feel a lot better when you step out of the airport.   The balmy weather hits you, the warm temperature embracing your being. You inhale the fresh air, able to see the blue ocean hugging the horizon, shimmering in the bright sunlight.    “Welcome to Tahiti, kids!” Namjoon looks over at the scenery with an equally satisfied expression as his wife. “Taxi ride is only six minutes away.”   “How was the flight for you two?” Sejeong asks.   “Not bad,” you answer, stepping on Jungkook’s foot when he mumbles something about his shoulder being sore and he laughs at your feigned ignorance.   The car drives all four of you to the resort and once you arrive, you’re overwhelmed by the warm welcome the people greet you with. The place is called the Intercontinental Tahiti Resort and Spa and it’s especially fancy for what you’re usually used to.   The lobby is grand, white pillars and high ceilings, bustling with tourists. There are people walking back and forth, flowers in their hair and around their necks, women’s dresses flowing, kids running about. The scent of the salted ocean fills your senses as the air conditioning cools your skin. You can’t believe you’re here.   “Feel free to get settled in today, you two. Take a look around and relax. We start baking tomorrow.” Sejeong hands you the confirmation forms to check yourselves in.    Both her and Namjoon are staying at one of the junior suite bungalows. They apologize for only being able to book the standard room for you and Jungkook, but you’re more than thankful already considering that this was a trip all-paid for.   You two are next in line at the lobby as Namjoon and Sejeong wave farewell, dragging their suitcases with them.    The woman behind the desk smiles. “Hello. How can I help you today?”   “We have a reservation.”   “Of course. Let’s take a look here.” She scans the paper and begins typing. “And your name is Jeon Jungkook?”   “That’s me.” He offers an ID and she nods, eyes skimming over it with a smile.   The woman hands over the key card and a booklet set with pamphlets. “Your room is two hundred twenty three on the second floor. Breakfast and lunch is included, this is also non-refundable. Your check out time will be at eleven a.m. There’s a few packages you can take advantage of during your time here. Room service is twenty four hours. If you ever need anything, feel free to call or come down to the lobby and we’ll help you out. Enjoy your stay!”   He nods slowly, but the woman looks off to the next people in line and you stop her before she can call them. “Wait. Is there….uh...my room?” You point to yourself.   She looks at you and then at her monitor. “It says two people are staying in this room. The standard room, correct?”   “Yes, but there’s supposed to be two rooms. One person in each, not one room.”   The woman takes the papers again, shuffling all of them. She types something into her computer and then shakes her head. “My apologies, it still says there’s two people staying in one room.”   “There must be some sort of mistake.”   “Should I call Namjoon?” Jungkook holds up his phone, brows knitted together.   “No, we shouldn’t bother them.” You don’t want to when it was clear they had plans to enjoy themselves for the rest of the day. With a sigh, you lean over the counter to the woman. “Umm...is there another room I can book?”   “Let me take a look here for you.” She clicks away. You wait with bated breath and yet again with your shittiest luck, she shakes her head. “I’m sorry. It looks like we’re fully booked here until the end of the month.”   You’re at a loss and you plead with the woman again as if it’ll somehow help. “Is there really nothing you can do?”   “My apologies. There aren’t any rooms available, so there’s nothing we can do at this time. We can give you free vouchers to the lounge area if you’d like for the trouble you’ve been through.” She takes something from underneath the front desk and slides it across the counter. “We get our wine from the famous winery here in French Polynesia.”   You don’t cry. Even if you want to.   But you take the vouchers since it’s still better than nothing.   When you’re off at the sidelines, Jungkook stands with you, suitcases by your side. “We can go talk to Sejeong and Namjoon.”   “Then what? They’re fully booked.”   “Then you can stay with Sejeong and I’ll stay with Namjoon.”   “They’re at a bungalow, Jungkook. This is practically their second honeymoon and I don’t want to bother them.” You take a deep breath and shrug. “It’s fine. It’s whatever. We’ll just stay together.”   “Are you sure?” Jungkook’s brows lift, eyeing you.   “Psh. Why not? We’re friends.” You bat your hand. “And I don't have germs or cooties like you think I do, Jeon. Promise I shower every day, so you don’t have to worry about it.”   The man scoffs with a small smile. “Fine by me then.”   But in spite of you the both trying to convince yourselves, it’s not a fantastic situation.   The room has a one king-sized bed, not two twins like you had hoped on your way up the elevator. It’s a whopping three hundred and seven square feet to share with Jungkook. One bathroom to your left as you enter, the bed taking up most of the space, a cabinet with a television and one table with two chairs.   You slide the glass doors open to let in fresh air. The private terrace is small too.   At any other time, you wouldn’t mind dorming with your best friend but considering the circumstances of your relationship lately, you can feel the tension in the air. It makes your palms sweaty.   “This is a really nice place,” you breathe out.   “Yeah.” Jungkook drops his duffle bag by the table. “There’s not even a sofa. Should we request one?”   “Where would we even fit it?”   “Right.”   You look around. Even if Jungkook would opt to sleep on the floor, there’s no spot for him unless he wants to lay underneath the table. Or in the hallway by the bathroom door where you could potentially step on him in the middle of the night during a trip to the toilet.   “We’ll make do,” you reassure. “We can sleep with our heads on opposite ends.”   “What if I kick you in the middle of the night?” he asks and when your expression washes over into impassivity, he grins. “Just saying. Can’t promise I won’t….”   “Fine. We’ll sleep normally. The bed is big anyway and sorry, Jeon, but your muscles aren’t as massive as you think they are.”   He laughs and falls back onto the soft mattress like it’s a pile of snow and he’s trying to make a snow angel. In one second, he’s ruined the fresh sheets and wrinkled them. “What do you think you’re doing?!”   Jungkook lifts his head. “What?”   “You’re lying on our bed with your dirty clothes.” You approach and try to push him off to no avail. “We were just on a plane for god knows how long.”   The boy grins and gets up. “God, you’re so uptight.”   “No, I’m clean,” you correct, glaring. “We’re not living like pigs. Try being neat for once. Just for a week.”   Jungkook sighs and as he brushes past you to the balcony, he ruffles your hair tenderly. “You’re lucky I like you.”   You scoff, trying to fix your hair while watching his broad backside, how he leans on the railing to soak in the view.   In the free time that you have, you get yourself cleaned up and take advantage of the bathtub for a bubble bath. You indulge as much as you can, trying to enjoy the resort before you have to start working hard on the cake.   You come out wearing one of your sun dresses and Jungkook looks up from his phone.   “Pretty,” he murmurs while a tiny, modest smile spreads into his cheeks.   You swallow hard, trying to keep your face from heating like a furnace. “Of course. What else would you expect of me?”   Jungkook laughs boyishly. “That’s true.”   You didn’t expect such a genuine response. But he doesn’t pay any mind to how caught off guard you are, merely getting up from his spot and grabbing clothes from his luggage. “My turn. You better wait for me. I don’t want to walk around by myself.”   “Or else what?” you taunt playfully.   Jungkook’s eyes darken right before he shuts the door. “Or else I’ll tackle you.”   Unfortunately for him, of all the things he was worried about, he didn’t consider the bathroom part. The moment the door closes, the scent of your shampoo and body wash surrounds him. It’s suffocating, thick in the air. He’s overwhelmed in your aroma and his pants unwillingly stir.   Jungkook rolls his tongue in his cheek, frustrated by his predicament and it hasn’t even been a full hour yet.   By the time he’s out of the bathroom, you're appalled.   “What took you so long?! Did you take three dumps?!”   “No,” he sharply answers and you don’t push when he’s surprisingly so defensive about it.   “Well, let’s go before it gets too late.” You grab the vouchers and swiftly exit your room.   Jungkook is decked out in a full tourist outfit — khaki shorts and a blue collared shirt. You’re in a floral print dress that would look perfect paired with your sun hat, but you’re saving the outfit for another day.   The two of you walk around, taking a peek at all the facilities they offer — the spa, swimming pool, tiki bar, restaurants, gift shops, and the venue where the wedding is being set up. You run into Chungha and her fiancé too. He introduces himself while she embraces you, thanking the both of you for coming and hoping the flight went well. But the pair of them only linger briefly to talk before they’re running off to take care of other things.   After grabbing a bite to eat, you and Jungkook decide to take advantage of your lounge vouchers.   “Are you sure this is alcohol?” You swirl the deep liquid inside your glass. Taking a sip and smacking your lips together, you try to decipher the taste on your tongue. “Tastes more like grape juice.”   Jungkook smells his own drink. “This one tastes like raspberries. They said it was alcohol though.”   “Huh. It’s pretty good then.”   He hums, taking another mouthful.   “Would you like another, miss and sir?” The waiter comes by with a kind smile and a cloth draped over his arm like a personal butler. “You still have credit on your voucher.”   You look at Jungkook who shrugs. “Might as well use it all.”   “What would you recommend?” You direct your attention to the waiter.    Between you and Jungkook, you both try nearly every kind of wine they offer.   You muse that the woman at the front desk must’ve felt really guilty to give you such a great deal. But you don't feel so upset anymore over having to share a room with Jungkook. At least not once you’ve gotten a taste of all the berry wines, another grape, fruit wine, dried cranberry, and one licorice flavored.    While you’re not a wine expert and there’s little you can comment on, aside from the fact that it’s very fruity and the acidity is high, you can tell it’s delicious. You actually forget it’s alcohol.   You give the beer a chance, but it’s disgusting enough for you to give the entire thing to Jungkook.   You don't keep count on how much you drink with him, but it’s enough that the waiter comes by with some glasses of water.   Your words slur together. “You know what I hate?”    “What?” Jungkook languidly grins, an easy smile on his features that has you feeling some kind of way.   “Everything. But also small spoons. I can’t eat out of a teaspoon! Why do they think I want to eat my ice-cream or crème brûlée with a—”   “Toothpick,” Jungkook finishes your sentence as laughter bubbles out his throat.   Your spine straightens and you look at him in surprise. Did he read your mind? “Yeah! How’d you know?”   “I think you’ve told me before.”   You wonder if you’ve really spent that much time with him that he knows such a small detail, but you’re baffled at how he can recall so easily. “How’d you remember?”   Jungkook shrugs and then burps. You wrinkle your nose until you hiccup too.   The boy is resting his head in his hand, elbow propped up on the table. His lids are seemingly heavy, every blink slow and gradual. But he stares at you intently like you’ve got something on your face. “Do you hate me?”   “Sometimes,” you answer truthfully without missing a beat. “But not really.”   “You don’t hate that I like you?” He leans in closer, but you don’t mind. If anything, he’s too far for your liking. You like it when he’s close.    You tap the tip of Jungkook’s nose like he often does to you. “I couldn’t hate you, hate you. You’re my best friend, silly.”   “I can’t be more than that?”   “I don’t know. I don’t really wanna talk about it.”   “I do.”   You pout, eyes straying off and then you gasp. “Look! The sun’s going down. You know what I’ve always wanted to do, Kookie? Walk on the beach to watch the sunset. We should go look!”   He follows after you, but not before stopping to ask for the bill until the waiter reminds him that it was all free of charge.    You and Jungkook happily hop across the resort with you leaning on his arm. “You think we’d get kicked out if they knew we were drunk?”   “Why?”   “Cause public intoxication. Is a resort public?”   “I think so. Just don’t make it obvious.”   “How do I not make it obvious?”   “Maybe stop giggling and whispering to me,” Jungkook says louder than what your voices have been and laughs at your reaction. The pair of you get onto the beach, stumbling together.   The sky is painted in orange and pink hues, the golden hour glowing on your skin. You can hear the sound of the waves lightly crashing against the shoreline, the spray of the salty mist in the air, the tide bubbling and fizzing away.   But it’s hard to enjoy it when you’re bumbling all over the place. “Ugh! I hate the sand!”   “Then why’d you wanna walk on it?” Jungkook giggles, holding onto you before you trip.   “I don’t know. Cause ‘s romantic, I guess.”   But at the moment, it isn’t romantic at all. There’s sand grating in between your toes, exfoliating your feet and hurting with every step you take. You swear it’s going to get in your underwear somehow.   You step towards the shore where the sand is flat and softer, wet by the water and where it’s more bearable. “Woah. The water’s so blue.”   Jungkook treads right up to where the tide kisses the beach. He quietly observes, watching the ocean and you come up behind him. When the timing is right, you shove the boy with all your might.   “Fuc—” He shouts, loses balance and puts his weight onto his knees, kneeling in the water.    You laugh hysterically, cackles coming from your stomach. You bend over, hugging your stomach. The boy stands up in dismay, shaking water from his hands. His khaki pants are completely soaked like he peed himself. “Why I oughta—”   “Stop! Jungkook!” You shriek with tipsy laughter as he starts chasing after you. “I’m sorry!”   “Too late!” He screams back and sprints after you as fast as he can with a dark vengeance. You obviously don’t make it far with sand flailing everywhere and his legs being longer than yours. Jungkook ends up grabbing you by the waist and pushing you into the sand. “Ha!”   He starts to laugh in absolute mirth, taking pleasure in your demise as sand gets into your underwear. Now it’s going to follow you around for the rest of your life.    “I just showered!” You laugh, getting up and trying to get rid of the tiny grains to no avail.   “How do you think I feel?” His grin is infectious and Jungkook tries to wring out his soaked khakis. Watching him makes you giggle. “It’s fine. We can shower together afterwards. It’ll be quick and painless.”   “Yeah? In your dreams, Jeon Jungkook!”   “Oh, it’ll be in my dreams alright,” he teases, astounding you with his outright shamelessness.   The both of you eventually calm down enough to realize you probably look crazy screaming at each other on the beach during the calm sunset. You slowly make your way back, still infected by drunken giggles that seem to be unable to stop.   Jungkook tries to walk without his wet shorts sticking to his skin and you take off your sandals altogether, attempting to clap them free of sand. On your way back, however, you’re interrupted by a cute lifeguard getting off her shift. She’s a beach blonde with a beautiful tan who boldly introduces herself to Jungkook. She even shakes his hand and invites him to a beach party happening tonight, leaving the two of you utterly stunned.   When she leaves, you wiggle your brows.   “What was all that?”   “You tell me.”   You grin at him. “Are you going to go to that party?”   “Nah.” Jungkook throws his arm over your shoulder, keeping you from losing your balance before you make it back to the hotel room. “I’d rather spend time with you.”   “Psh. Sorry to say, Jeon, but I’m pretty boring.”   “No, you’re not.” He looks down at you, an endeared smile gracing his features that makes you divert your vision elsewhere.   You feign nonchalance. “She was cute. You should totally go for it! Get it while you’re still young. You’re not always going to attract the ladies like this, you know! Gotta take advantage of it as it comes.”   Jungkook laughs in that boyish way that makes you feel funny. “Why would I need to when you’re the only person that actually matters.”   You almost choke on your own spit.   Jungkook laughs, lightly knocking his head against yours.   “I’d rather you’d be the one to notice me.”   Little does Jungkook know you do far more than notice him.

[luna-spacedoodles]

Spoiler: Rules Were Broken

A Dream Smp x Ever After High AU

Word count: 1,599

Chapter 1 A Royal Tale

Tommy hauled his wagon full of luggage up to the school as Tubbo

walked alongside him with his hands in his pockets.

Tommy grunted to a stop, “Dude why, why can’t you like, help me? Where even is your stuff?”

“All in here, boss man.” Tubbo tipped his comically tiny top hat and Tommy heard a small quack come from inside.

“I- okay can you help me then please?” Tubbo grabbed the handle alongside him and they pulled it together all the way to their dorm.

Tommy bust open the doors and threw a suitcase on his bed quickly following it and flopping in defeat. Tubbo didn’t even make it to his bed before Tommy heard a thud behind him. He didn’t know how long they’d stayed like that until he heard Tubbo placing down his things. Tommy lifted his head to see all his furniture was already there, that was one thing he didn’t have to set up at least.

Tommy opened up his suitcase and started messily throwing the clothes inside to his right, not all of them made it on the bed. Most of them fell onto the floor or got caught on the banister.

“Oh stop dude you’re making a mess.” Tubbo told him after he got a face full of shirt.

“Shut up man, you’re wrong you’re so wrong, I’m being so neat and tidy and shit!” Tommy retaliated only to throw another shirt.

“You literally just missed the bed so far.” Tubbo let out a small laugh at the end and kicked some shorts off his hammock.

Tommy groaned and went to pick up his failed attempts, “Well don’t just sit there if you’re going to groan about it, come help me man!”

“You don’t need my help, you're just shit. Besides I already finished setting up my stuff so that just makes you look even more shit at this.”

“But that’s not fair you got here earlier than me! And it’s not even true, there’s still a whole other half of the room and you’ve just invaded into my space!”

Just as he finished the two boys heard the door open and someone step inside, they both turned to look at someone Tommy had never seen before. He was quite tall and looked funny, his skin was black and white split down the middle of his face, same with his hair but flipped around. He had wide open red and green eyes that seemed fake, like they were made of glass, open far too wide and he didn’t seem to ever blink, yet it seemed the boy was doing everything he could to avoid making eye contact with either of them. Maybe that was a good thing, they didn’t seem like eyes that’d be pleasant to stare at. He had tall horns atop his head and two tails as well, one black and the other white.

“What the fuck??” Tommy shouted raspily in confusion over the unexpected guest.

“Uhm, hi.” The boy managed to spit out as he tightened his grip on his luggage.

“I think you have the wrong room.” Tommy crossed his arms and lent against the bed, he slipped a bit trying to balance himself.

“No he’s got the right room.” Tubbo butted in, he adjusted himself to sit on the edge of the hammock so his feet dangled over the floor.

“What?” The boy and Tommy asked in unison.

“Yeah, something about a student miscalculation or whatever, not enough dorms so we all have to share.”

Tommy looked at the new guy, this wasn’t what he wanted or planned for but there wasn’t much he could do about it.

—

Tommy woke up to a sudden heavy weight on his stomach. Tommy lifted his head and rubbed his eyes to see a blond raccoon with a red handkerchief tied around its neck laid out flat on his stomach, it’s little arms and legs stretched out.

“Oh, hello!” Tommy cooed at the raccoon, giving it some scratches and pats as it chuckled and rolled around in delight. He looked out the window, it was still dark out but he could spot the sun’s light barely reaching over the horizon. Tommy wondered if it was too early to sneak out his dorm and go walk in the forest before breakfast, wasn’t much to do and he didn’t really feel like going back to sleep so taking a quick walk wouldn’t be that bad.

He got dressed and slipped on a white cloak and a small brown backpack as well. Tommy quietly snuck out the window and climbed down the vines on the side of the wall, before he could lift his head up the raccoon had already jumped and landed flat on his face.

“Clementine, I told you to wait.” Tommy groaned muffled under Clementine, she only replied with some chittering that sounded close to laughter as Tommy pulled her off his face. He looked at her and couldn’t bring himself to scold her anymore than that, how could he stay mad at that face. He let her scuttle over him and sit in the open backpack as they walked off into the forest.

On their walk they saw many different creatures and plants, they even stopped by the pond on their way back. By the time they’d gotten back into the dorm the sun was rising and Tommy’s pockets were full of small flowers, pebbles and anything else he could fit inside, even Clementine had a large hoard of berries she’d picked for her breakfast.

Before Ranboo or Tubbo had the chance to wake up Tommy and Clementine were already out the door and on their way to the castleteria, leaving the cloak and bag stuffed back inside the wardrobe. Dashing down the stairs and through the halls he skidded to a stop in front of the castleteria doors, rocking and bouncing back and forth waiting for the doors to open. A bell chimed, the doors opened and Tommy ran up to get his breakfast.

The lunch lady gave him a stack of pancakes with a side of eggs and sausage, he ran off with his tray and sped towards a lone table tucked in a corner. Despite running here full of energy he ate surprisingly slow, Clementine stuffed her face into her berry pile next to him. Students soon flooded into the castleteria including Tubbo and their new roommate, they walked up the stairs to his table and sat down with him.

“Hey Tommy!” Tubbo set down his tray and immediately started eating.

“Hi Tubbo,” Tommy looked up from his food and started at Ranboo, “…Hi Ranboo…”

“Hi.” The boy replied awkwardly, he didn’t seem like he wanted to make any conversation but Tommy didn’t want to talk to him anyway.

Clementine stopped her feasting and hissed in at Ranboo, running onto Tommy’s back and peaking at the stranger over his shoulder. Or maybe it was the gross looking fish soup she was eyeing, Ranboo slid the small bowl over as an offering and Clementine jumped for it, adding it to her stash. Tommy made a funny look at the soup before he went back to his own breakfast.

“ATTENTION STUDENTS!” The castleteria fell silent as everyone turned to look at Headmaster Grimm standing on the balcony, “As Legacy Day is coming very soon, today we’ll be practicing for it! During one of your classes you’ll be led out to practice pledging to follow your destiny and signing the Storybook of Legends! Thank you for your time, please continue your breakfast.”

—

Tommy walked out with the rest of the class to the stage, the place was white and regal, two large staircases either side of the stage and a pedestal at the front. They all lined up in alphabetical order of their last name and took turns practicing.

“Next!” Grimm called Ranboo up. Tommy watched him take the key and walk up to the pedestal.

“Uhm. I, Ranboo Queen, pledge to follow my destiny to be the next Evil… Queen? King?” Ranboo turned to look at Grimm, “Did I do that right?”

“It’s uh, it’ll do.” Grimm replied, taking back the key.

Tommy zoned out for a bit — That was Ranboo Queen? That’s the guy that was gonna poison him? He’d heard lots of mean things about how his destiny goes. He stared at the ground reconsidering how he felt about this guy.

“Next!” Grimm yelled, Tommy looked up and realized he was calling him up. He walked up to him and silently took the key.

“I! Uhm..” Tommy turned around to Grimm, “I have a question?”

“Yes?” Grimm sighed.

“It’s just, what if I don’t want to follow my destiny? Like, what if I want to do my own thing?” Everyone gasped loudly, Grimm looked shocked and angry, he strode over to him and Tommy backed up against the pedestal.

“Now listen here, if you don’t sign that book, your story will go poof. You will go poof.” Grimm stepped back and Tommy inhaled deeply only now realizing he’d been holding his breath, “Now I recommend we move on and continue.”

Tommy turned around and looked out on the crowd, everyone was staring at him judgingly, he looked down at the key in his hand. He threw it harshly onto the ground and started running as fast as he could from there, Clementine jumped off a chair she’d been watching from and scampered after him. Tommy grabbed his cloak from the dorm and ran into a place he knew no one would find him.

[sp00kworm]

A Figure by the Lake

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x Female Reader

Warnings: General Slasher Warnings, Stalking, Violence.

A/N: This was an exchange piece with the fabulous @of-devils-and-drawings​ who deserves all the love in the world. I present, the softest of Camp Blood Killer, Mister swamp water man, for your entertainment, in six thousand words. I based his looks off of Jason Lives so take that as inspiration!

---

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Camp Crystal Lake. Now, it was a refurbished, new living area for holiday makers once again. The small town fifteen miles away had seen enough of the bloodshed to last years, but none of them dared go near for fear of the death curse lingering around the place. The revenge of the Voorhees family. Pamela and Jason. All swore blind the legend was real. Jason Voorhees had lived in the woods for twenty years without his own mother’s knowledge before seeing her slaughtered and extracting his revenge on any who dared to set foot on his territory. The man who filled your car hummed, chewing a toothpick as he eyed up the luggage in the back of the car.

“Where you headin’ missy?” He asked as he replaced the cap on the fuel tank and walked back to your window, wrapped tightly in a thick, sheepskin coat and a heavy scarf. He replaced his gloves and shuddered in the snowy cold as you smiled pleasantly, stroking your Pitbull with gentle movements of your hand. Bronson barked cheerfully from the seat next to you as the man peered into your window.

You were ready for the horror-stricken face as you opened your mouth, “Crystal Lake.” You uttered, “My family has an old cabin up on the outskirts of the place. They’re developing the land. Letting people buy holiday homes.” You continued, watching the local’s face turn dark.

“Do you know what happened up there?” He asked as he sparked up a cigarette, blowing smoke up into the air. You knew for sure it could blow up the gas he was stood next to, but the man didn’t seem to care.

 You knew what happened. The 1980s slaughters were known the world round. A woman and her love for her son, and her son who only sought blood-soaked revenge. You looked at the date in your car. Friday the 13th. You had to smile. Jason’s birthday was the 13th of June. A Friday. It was somewhat ironic.

You shrugged your shoulders at the man, “I know. The killings. I’ve heard the stories in the dinner. I had lunch before stopping here for some gas.”

He shook his head, “Slaughter you mean. There’s been enough killing around here. People stay away. Ain’t no good to come from poking a phantom’s nest. You be careful, ya here? Jason ain’t dead and gone, and he won’t be for a long time.” He slapped the top of your car, “That’ll be thirty bucks for the gas.”

You handed him the money and rolled away from the small gas station, trundling up the new road which the developers had put in for the town. It was a smooth journey until you met the old roads. It was about fifteen more minutes of slow driving through into the old, run down roads that led to the cabins. It was slow going through the mud, and you thanked the gods above when you finally made it to the cabin and parked, just as the snow began to slowly drift from the sky. You thanked the gods again that you had brought enough groceries for the stay. Two weeks in the peace and quiet would be nice. You pulled on your coat and got out of the car, sighing as you looked at the sheer amount of luggage you had to move from the car into the house.

 The noise of a car had drawn him from where he was washing in the streams. The icy cold water still dripped from his hands as he watched from the treeline. The cabins were being worked on, he knew that, but the construction workers were gone for the winter, and Jason was left alone once again. No one had ever shown up in the winter. He watched you shiver and unload the car, making trips back and forth with the load of things you needed. Jason watched you mess around with a large looking dog for a while before he took his shirt and coat from the tree and headed back towards his own home to make his plans. Jason thudded through the undergrowth, exhaling air that turned into mist through the holes of his mask, as he ducked through the trees and into his own, small hut. He closed the old door and peered around before heading towards the rickety chimney he had built. Jason lit a fire with the dry logs he had piled up the wall. It was silent as he lit the fire, the flames taking to the logs quickly from the kindling.

 The phantom watched it burn and pushed his cold hands closer to the fire, feeling the heat in his undead fingers. The dead skin pulsed with warmth until he pulled away to say hello to his mother.

“Hello, my sweet boy. Did you have a good day?” Pamela asked from his stand. Jason nodded as he plucked the skull from table and gently touched the top of the bone, looking at the eye sockets as his Mother smiled back at him.

“Did you see someone, sweetheart?” She cooed, “Did you get rid of them for me? You’re such a good boy, Jason.” Pamela’s blue eyes were soft as Jason looked away from her. He placed her down as he shook his head.

“Did she get away?” She asked softly, “Oh that’s alright my boy.” Jason shook his head ‘no’ again, “What’s wrong then?” She looked at him again and smiled, “Watch her. Winter visitors are such a pleasure to have.” She cooed as Jason touched the moth-eaten jumper and carefully turned her towards the fire, “Thank you, sweetie.” She cooed as Jason settled down next to the fire. He pulled out a pine tree branch and opened his box, intending to put it into the scrapbook he had managed to snatch from one of the visitors a long time ago.

 It took hours to get all the shopping and your luggage away, and even then, it took you a while to get a fire going. The cabin was new, fitted with central heating, but you looked for the logs the company had left and eventually curled up in front of the fire, Bronson by your feet, soaking up the heat from the flames. You hadn’t cooked. It was too late, so you settled for one of the ready meals as you soaked up the heat, wiggling your feet by the fire as you looked at a book open on the side of the couch. The snow was getting worse outside, blowing a gale at the windows. You hoped the power would stay on. They’d installed on-site generators in case of a power failure, but you found yourself enjoying the dark, the fire and a small lamp illuminating your book as you spooned poorly made lasagne into your mouth.

“Well, Bronson, it looks like we’ll be getting a lot of work done while we’re out here.” You hummed as you leaned over to pet his head, stroking the blue coloured fur with a smile, “Though we might not if the power drops out.” Bronson sighed and settled back down to sleep as you got up to throw away the rubbish from your dinner. As you washed the dishes with a sponge, you looked out of the window at the snow. It was slowing down. You smiled as the snow caused the automatic porch light to come on again, and you squinted into the light, looking for any sign of life. You blinked and looked harder into the snow as a shadowed figure appeared at the end of the garden, stalking along the fence. You blinked again and the black shadow was gone.

“It might be a bit of a weird holiday this one, Bronson.” Your dog only grumbled from where he had climbed onto the sofa, laid on his back, soaking in the heat from the fire.

 The next day was just as cold, but the snow had stopped falling. There was a decent covering on the ground, and you opened the door with a smile as you looked at the drifts. Winter was done properly up here by the lakes. You turned to see Bronson in the door, his large mouth open as he waited for the signal to be allowed out. With a whistle, you tugged him back inside to put his jacket and harness on before tapping his butt and watching him sprint into the drifts.

“Bronson!” You laughed as you walked into the snow, wrapped tightly in a heavy coat, scarf, gloves and hat. It was below zero. You laughed at your dog as he snorted and buried his face into another snowdrift. He barked and followed you as you trudged through the snow, towards the treeline. The Pitbull on your heels snorted and barked as you walked into the woods, your hands in your pockets, clutching his lead and the bags you had brought with you just in case.

 Jason watched from the trees as you disappeared into his woods. He hefted the axe over his shoulder and followed, the logs he had come to collect hefted on top of his shoulder. Lumbering behind, he watched from around the trees as you ventured further and further from your own cabin, and closer and closer to his own home, on the outskirts of the lake, hidden behind broken trees and rotting areas of swampy water. It was frozen still this time of year. He followed quietly, keeping his smell away from your giant dog as he watched you climb over the rotting trees and roots that blocked the pathway to his home. Jason stood still, his breath stopping all together as his eyes danced across the surroundings.

 You frowned at the heavy tree in your way and whistled softly as you climbed over the heavy log and then watched Bronson bound over the top of it, his ears flopping as he panted and looked around the snow. You both scrambled over a set of upturned roots before peering into the white surroundings. Bronson pushed his nose into the snow and snuffled around your feet as you looked between the trees. A shack was sat between another upturned giant tree and a set of rotting stumps. The wood was old and rotting in most places. You approached the old panels slowly, Bronson snuffling alongside you as you both approached. It was a very old cabin, homemade from heavy timber. The roof needed replacing, small parts of it having caved in with the rot and winter snow, but it looked lived in. With a frown, you approached the front door. It was as old as the rest of the place, the hinges rusted and the lock a simple deadbolt. It was undone. You swallowed and swung the door open. Bronson peered inside as well, quiet, his ears pressed flat to his skull. You both were quiet as you looked at the smouldering fire and the tins littering around. They were stacked in the corner on top of a very old dresser. A few bones were stacked too. A knife was sat next to the bones and what looked to be a small carving project. Carefully you peered at the small figurine being shaped from the deer bone. It was a beaver. You looked around again at everything.

 A rocking chair swayed with a squeak by the fire, rocking back and forth as the cold wind rushed inside. Everything was rotting. You entered a small bedroom, Bronson protective on your heels as you opened the door. It swung open and revealed a dry room. A table was sat in the corner with a makeshift bed in the other, piled with old shirts, blankets, and pillows. You looked at the table and gasped. A faded photo sat on the top, next to a moth-eaten jumper. You approached and looked at the skull sat next to it. Pieces of dried skin littered the tabletop as well, curling black lumps that looked putrid. The photo was of a young woman and her boy. The blond woman grinned back at you. Pamela Voorhees. You swallowed and tugged Bronson by his collar.

“Come on, Bronson. We don’t belong here.” You ushered him out and looked around the place one last time before you closed the door and rushed through the snow once more. Bronson whined as you both hopped back over the log, trudging back through the snow, “I think we have a certain resident to appease, boy.” Following your own tracks, you were unaware of the killer watching you disappear back into the snow.

 Jason watched you leave with uncertainty boiling in his stomach. You hadn’t done anything to his home. He threw the logs down by the fire and turned to his Mother.

“Maybe she’s a good girl, Jason? Watch her for me sweetie.” She cooed. Jason nodded sombrely and made sure to lock the door as he left his home, covered in a heavy jacket and his work gloves, a machete sheathed on his hip.

 Cooking for one was difficult, and soon you realised you would have more than enough for you and someone else. Bronson was busy chowing down his own food in the corner, and you sighed softly as you plated the leftovers onto another hot plate. You looked out into the cold, still night and wondered if this would be enough to appease the giant killer that might be lurking. It was stupid. He was a ghost story. But you knew to believe in the warnings of spirits. Carefully, you found a plate cover and covered the meal before opening the front door and placing it, shielded from the cold by the entryway box for tools. It wouldn’t remain warm forever, but if he was watching, you knew he’d be curious enough to investigate, spirit or undead monster. You placed the meal down and closed the door, locking it in a small fit of paranoia as you headed back to finish cleaning up before bed. Bronson slumped down by the fire as you finished putting the pots away and headed upstairs for a shower. You sighed at the white canvas you set up by the window, still with no ideas about what to put on it. Hopefully, hot water would ease your nerves.

 The door opened with creak and Jason peered at the light spilling from the house, breathing slowly, evenly, in the trees. You peered out with a plate in your hands, covered to keep it warm, before you tucked it against the toolbox and closed the door once more. Curious. Jason waited. He watched as you moved upstairs, curiously, following you around the house, watching from the bottom floor as you pulled the jumper over your head. His eyes went wide as you pulled off your tank top underneath, revealing the bra you had on. Set, he couldn’t pull away his gaze as he watched skin move and ripple, tilting his head as he moved to catch sight of your backside as well. Naughty. He chastised himself as he turned, moving back to the front of the house to investigate the plate you had put on the porch. His mask turned his breath into steam as Jason stood over the plate. He knelt and picked up the plate in one gloved hand. He opened the top and looked at the hot food on the plate. It looked like the meals his Mother once made. Jason felt conflict churn his guts. Mashed potato. He adored mashed potato as a child. Jason looked at the door in front of him. He glanced at the blade at his hip and the knife by his thigh. He could open the door himself, crash through the wood and slaughter you. Instead, he stole the food away, scaring as Bronson yawned inside, rushing back into the trees with thoughts he shouldn’t have churning in his head.

 “Jason. Have you ended her?” Pamela asked from her seat in the rocking chair. Jason looked at the head and shook his head as he sat by the fire, grinding the details into the beaver’s face with his small skinning knife, “Why not, darling?”

Jason looked at his feet, sheepishly, and pulled out the meal from behind him. He held it up to his mother’s head.

“Oh, my darling boy, she’s a good girl, isn’t she?” Pamela cooed. Jason felt phantom hands stroke his head before he drew out the spoon, he had whittled it some time ago. He could eat but being undead meant it wasn’t necessary. Still, he pushed the mask up enough to reveal his mouth and cautiously ate a spoonful of the cooling potatoes. He grunted, the memory of the food he used to eat as a child making his chest ache painfully.

Pamela smiled from her place in the chair, “Yes, my boy, she is a good, good girl. Just like you, my perfect little boy.” He continued to eat thoughtfully, beside the fire, before realising he had finished the entire thing. The killer looked at the plate sadly before picking up his beaver again. He eyed the little creature’s eyes before setting to work on finishing the tail. Pamela hummed a song before melting into the background again. He remembered to set her head down for the night before he trundled back into the blackness, the empty plate, and the small bone carving in hand.

 The snow when you woke up was horrendous. You peered down the driveway and sighed at the layers of snow melting on your porch. It was terrible weather. You shuddered as you climbed out of the bed, immediately wrapping up in your gown before you patted Bronson, beckoning him up as you started the day. You descended the stairs with a yawn and a stretch over your head. Excitedly, you remembered the plate you had left outside of the door. The keys jingled in your hand as you unlocked the lock and slid the chain bolt free. You swung open the door and watched Bronson bound into the snow again. You watched him for a moment before giving him a tut of disapproval. As you took a step forward, your slipper met the plate. Sadly, you looked down, only to smile at the sight of the empty plate and a small token next to it. You picked up the plate and the small carving. A beaver made from bone sat perfectly in the palm of your hand, its front teeth opened wide as though it was ready to chew through a new piece of wood. You laughed at the carving as you tucked it into your pocket, shouting for Bronson back. The dog bounded back into the house and you looked at the treeline before closing the door and setting to towel drying your now wet dog.

 Jason looked on from the woods as you laughed with the dog in the lounge. He watched as you placed the small beaver on your fireplace. The killer nodded to himself before hiding away in the trees to continue to watch you in peace.

 Over the course of the first week, you made sure to leave food for the legend out on the porch. Every morning it was gone, your plate returned alongside some trinket the man saw fit to leave for you. On the seventh day, you opened the door and saw that the plate was left alongside a small pocketknife. The blade wasn’t long. It was a switch blade and you snapped the thing open to look at the pointed end. It was clean, polished with metal cleaner to be shiny. You smiled and took it inside once again, placing it on the small shelf with the other goods, on display in the window. The snow was still present. Icy but slushy under your feet. You made breakfast and showered before you ventured out into the cold, this time, turning to the right, heading towards the famous Crystal Lake edge as Bronson snorted and ran beside you. The track down to the lake wasn’t huge, a short walk in all reality, but you enjoyed it nonetheless, peering up at the trees as the crows called overhead. Bronson barked and rushed forwards with a stick, his tail wagging as you took it from him and hurled it as far as you could in front of you on the track. He followed happily and you both continued towards the water’s edge. Bronson sniffed at the water curiously before deciding the icy water wasn’t worth the time jumping in. You peered around at the huge lake.

 It was easily a mile across, you surmised, from bank to bank, and the roots of the trees had recently been cut back to give it a more open appearance. It wasn’t as overgrown as it once was, the reeds kept back at the pier and tugged out from around the sides to prevent the water from looking too murky. With a cold inhale of icy air, you wandered closer to the edge, looking at the murky water as Bronson snorted and walked around, sticking his face in every pile of mud he could find under the snow. A crow called again above you. You looked up at the tree and frowned at the bird before it squawked again and fluttered off, leaving a black feather to float down into the snow. Bronson gave the feather a sniff before he moved into the snow again, shoving his face underneath the piles. The pier was new. The rotting boards and support structure were new, the wood painted a white colour. It would probably need redoing when spring rolled around. You walked up, towards the end of the pier and looked out at the icy lake. Parts of it were frozen, thing sheets floating around and clicking into each other. You watched a duck tuck itself into the reeds on the bank as Bronson barked at the end of the pier, gaze set on the trees. Murky water slopped against the wood with a gust of icy air and you shuddered before turning back to your dog.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” You chuckled as you turned around and carefully walked back towards the banks.

 Your foot slipped beneath your own weight. Ice, hidden by the white paint, made your grips slip. Suddenly, the water lurched towards your face, icy pain imminent. You closed your eyes and gasped, winded, as arms snapped tight around your waist and heaved you upwards, away from the icy water. Wheezing, you turned your head to look at your saviour. Icy, blue eyes stared back at you through a grubby hockey mask, and you peered down at the dead hands holding you tightly against the man most now only knew as legend.

“Jason…Voorhees…” You wheezed as you were manhandled away from the pier. Bronson barked at the creature and he bared his teeth before he jumped for his arm. Jason’s eyes flicked, and in a swift movement, he snatched the dog by the collar, holding you with one arm, the other holding the hound at arm’s length. Bronson yelped as the grip twisted into the fur on the back of his neck.

“Let him go!” You coughed weakly. Jason’s eyes flashed between you both before he dropped you and offered you your dog. He dropped Bronson on the floor, lowering him to his feet, giving you enough time to wrestle a lead from your pocket to hold him at bay. He cowered behind your legs as you looked up again at the Camp Crystal Lake Killer.

 “You’re real…” You whispered, gazing up at the giant. He was dead, clearly, the skin mottled and dark, pale in other places with rigor mortis, the blood stagnant. Yet, any wound seemed to not have left a scar. You looked at the hands and watched him twitch the fingers. Jason shifted, uncomfortable with the staring, and turned his eyes on Bronson again. The Pitbull cowered behind you.

“I’m sorry if we’re trespassing.” You whispered before finding your voice, “Did you, uh, enjoy the food I left out for you?” You asked the giant man. He paused in his staring, the hockey mask turning to the side, as though bashfully, as his massive head nodded.

He held up his hands in front of him and you watched his right hand move to his ask before dipping down with flat fingers, the palm upturned.

“You sign?” You asked with a smile, “That means ‘thank you’ right?”

Jason nodded twice with two slow movements of his head.

“Well, you’re welcome.” You smiled at him as genuinely as you could manage, “Though I don’t know if you really needed the food. You seem to be able to look after yourself.” With a small sigh, you rubbed the top of Bronson’s head, fear making your heart beat double time, “Are you going to get rid of me?” You asked quietly.

 Jason’s eyes widened a little as he listened to the fear lacing your voice. He shook his head firmly before holding his hands up again in front of his chest, fingers twitching before he signed to you slowly. His thumb pointed to his chin with his fingers curled into a first. He moved his hand forwards before holding up his other hand and pointing a finger out from his right. He connected the finger with his left hand. You frowned, confused, before watching him stick his finger into his other hand repeatedly.

“Does that mean you’re not going to kill me?” You asked gently.

Jason nodded, confirming your guess, before signing the two words again slowly for you.

“Okay, I believe you.” You smiled as Bronson peered back from behind your legs, his nose sniffing at Jason’s heavy combats. The giant recoiled from the dog, his hands clenched by his stomach before Bronson deemed him not a threat, and simply sat down, staring at Jason with soft eyes. Curiously, Jason reached to pet Bronson, his large fingers flipping the dog’s ears around as he gave him a small scratch behind them.

“He likes you.” You laughed softly before awkwardly shifting from foot to foot, “Would you like to come and eat with us?” You asked.

 Jason felt his heart catch in his chest. You asked him to come and eat with you. He was embarrassed. It was very forward. He took a step backwards, glancing at the treeline in contemplation as he wondered what sort of motive you had for inviting him to dinner. Words were empty. He knew that. Jason had been lied to again and again. He knew though, that you did intend to give him food. You left it for him every night. He wished his mama were there with him. He reached for his hip and shook his head.

“She’s a good girl, Jason.”

His mother was right. Jason nodded and looked at the snow covering the ground before stepping away from the lake and pointing back through the trees.

“Sure. I’ll lead the way.” You smiled as you tugged Bronson along at your side. Jason followed to your right in comfortable silence, observing your grins and smiles at your dog with a smile of his own, hidden behind the ruined hockey mask.

 “Is that shack in the woods yours, Jason?” You asked as you reached the edge of the trees. You looked up at the phantom as his fingers curled into a fist and he dipped it down, nodding his head at the same time. You looked over the snow drift and smiled, “It’s a nice place. You seem to be able to look after yourself.”

Jason shrugged his shoulders, his jacket rippling with the movement before he wiggled his hand and his head in a ‘sort of’ motion. He was embarrassed by the praise, though you couldn’t see his face. His blind eye twitched as he watched you trip in his periphery. With a snap of his arms again, he snatched you up from falling face first into the snow.

Winded again, you looked up at the killer as you span in his arms, “Thank you, Jason. Sorry, I’m such a clutz.” You laughed as he placed you firmly back on your feet and held out his hand towards the dog lead. Bronson was happy to bound over to the giant, and you laughed as Jason was tugged around by the dog. Bronson barked, leaping into the snow, only to be fished out a moment later by one, giant, powerful hand. Bronson looked at him with a dumb smile before Jason placed him back on his feet and let him walk in front of the two of you.

 Your cabin porch, at least, was free from snow. You slammed your feet on the wood and watched Jason do the same, shaking snow from his shoulders before he reached down and unclipped the dog lead from Bronson. The Pitbull gave one large bark and licked at the yellow workers gloves over Jason’s fingers before scratching at the door to get back inside.

“Here. You can come in if you want? It won’t take too long to make something.” You offered. You smiled up at Jason and he felt his resolve melt a little as he tentatively took a step into the house. His figure filled the doorway before he peered around, looking for a threat that might jump out at him, before he relaxed enough to carefully step into the lounge area.

“You don’t have to take your shoes off if you don’t want.” You offered as Jason looked down at his boots with concern. They were dirty and your floors were very clean. With a tilt of his head, he leaned over to undo the laces of his boots and carefully tugged them off. He even managed socks. You were amazed at how well put together the gentle giant was for an undead corpse.

“Thank you.” You smiled as you slipped the harness off Bronson and removed your own coat and shoes. Jason looked back and took his coat off as well, thumping over to the coat rack to hang his own mucky coat over a hook.

 “You can sit in the kitchen if you like?” You headed towards the small kitchen in the back and smiled as Jason followed, stepping around the rug carefully before he peered over your head, into the well-equipped kitchen, “Do you like music, Jason?” You asked.

Jason repeated the sign for ‘Yes.’ back to you and nodded his head before continuing, ‘Not too loud. Soft.’, But you didn’t seem to understand those signs.

With a nod you reached over the counter and smiled as you showed him the small manual radio. You swivelled the knobs and caught the frequency of the local radio station. It was something weird and country sounding. You showed Jason the radio, “You can twist the knob to tune into different stations. Try and find something you like.” He took the small thing from your hands and eyed it before quickly setting to work spinning the knobs, searching for something for you to listen to. As he played with the device you pulled out the things for dinner. Jason grew tired of the knobs quickly and settled on where it had been before he had messed around, the soft country playing in the background as he watched you cut vegetables and add them to the pot for a stew. His curiosity made him accidentally turn the wrong knob on the radio and the giant jumped with a grunt as the music screeched. He almost threw the thing, but before he could, you already snapped the volume back down.

“Be careful, Jason.” You chuckled before wiping your hands properly and covering the food, “Now, maybe you should teach me some of that signing? It might be handy.” He nodded and stood from the table, following you to the lounge.

 The food in front of him looked delicious.

“Oh, she is a good girl, Jason.” His Mother cooed from wherever she was, he couldn’t see her, “She’s looking after you, my dear. She could be good spouse material for my darling baby boy.”

Jason shook his head. Surely his mother didn’t think that. She had never mentioned wanting him to settle down. He curled in on himself a little. He knew he wasn’t handsome or even worthy of someone doting on him.

“Are you okay?” You asked nervously, “I thought you might like this, since you like mashed potato so much.”

Jason nodded his head and signed, ‘Thank you’ before he picked up the spoon and then remembered his mask. He looked at the gravy dripping from his spoon and placed it back down into the bowl. With a huff he pointed to his face and looked away.

Instantly you understood what he meant, “You can take it away if you would like?” You asked, chewing the inside of your cheek.

He nodded enthusiastically before placing on finger under his nose and curling it away from himself. Before you could ask him to do it again, he grabbed hold of his shoes from the door, and tied them swiftly. He shrugged the jacket on and took the bowl gratefully from the table. With a nod, he disappeared out of the front door and rushed away as fast as he could manage with the bowl of stew and potatoes.

 You found a book in your cabin later. American Sign Language 101. You looked through at the basic words and frowned at the pictures for the word ‘ugly’. Jason had called himself ugly. You rubbed at Bronson’s ears and shook your head as you looked at the fire burning in front of your feet.

 The next morning you turned from your canvas to a knock on the door. It was still early. Bronson perked up from where he was laid by the fire. Curious, you laid your brushed on your small table and headed towards the door. You opened the door and smiled.

“Jason, what are you doing here?” You asked before the bowl from last night was thrust into your hands.

‘Thank you.’ Jason signed.

“You’re welcome, big guy.” You opened the door a little, “Do you want to come in or are you busy?” You asked, revealing the paint streaked apron covering your body.

Jason shook his head and raised his hands once more, ‘Walk?’ He asked carefully.

“Sure. Bronson needs one anyway.” You left the door open with Jason stood in it as you took your apron off and whistled for Bronson. The dog trotted to the front door and greeted Jason with a lick to his gloved hands. You pulled on your shoes and coat before snatching Bronson’s lead and the book you were looking through last night. Jason pointed curiously as the big book and you held it up for him to see.

“It’s a Sign Language book. I wanted to learn a little bit more, so I can understand you better!” You smiled up at the giant as he appeared a little flustered and lost, his hands twitching by his thighs before he closed your door behind you and pointed in the direction of the lake. You followed with Bronson close on your heels.

 Your visits to the lake became a daily routine. Jason would walk you there just before lunch and you’d both return just in time for you to cook dinner. Jason was conflicted every time you asked him into your home, but he followed you in each time. His Mother was positive. She appreciated what you were doing for him, and Jason was thankful for someone who cared. He even did odd jobs around your cabin, chopping wood and leaving it for you as well as fixing a fence after Bronson chewed a slat free.

“Jason, are you okay?” You asked as you placed his food in front of him. He could see you were nervous, wondering about something. Worrying. The giant reached out and took your hand in his own. He was about to recoil, remembering the cold temperature of his flesh, yet you didn’t flinch away from the icy grip. You squeezed his fingers and looked into his eyes.

‘What’s wrong?’ He signed after letting go of your hand.

“I’m just…” You sighed as you sat down, “It’s what you said when you first took that dinner.” You looked the phantom in the eyes, “That you were ugly.” You made the sign with your finger and scowled, “But I…All I’ve seen is a lonely man who has done nothing but help me…and be sweet.”

Jason looked away, peering into the food you had served him before he turned in his seat and repeated the sign back to you.

‘Ugly.’ He snapped his fingers together with a sigh and you shook your head at him.

 “You’re not…” You chuckled, “Well I’ve never actually seen your face…” You confessed. The killer shook his head resolutely, his hands clutching at the strap of his mask.

‘Ugly.’ He signed again as he leaned back, protective of the hockey mask covering his face. With a smile, you nodded at him and eased back over your own food.

“I understand. You’re not ready to show me…” You stood up slowly and held your hands away from him, “But, when you are ready, just know that I’ll accept it, no matter what.” You promised before you leaned forwards, and pressed a soft, single kiss to his forehead. The mask was as cold as his skin, and you leaned away, dazzling the phantom with your smile.

Jason’s hands shot out, catching you by the wrists before he gently eased them up towards his face, his blue eyes gazing at you in awe as he let you brush the strap on the back of his head. Firmly, he held you in front of him before he raised his hands and fumbled.

‘I love you’ He signed, ‘Protect you.’ He promised before he took hold of your waist again and tugged you into his lap, wrapping his giant arms around your body before he pressed the cool mask to your face.

 “Jason…I’m not here forever…” You whispered against his cold face, “I have to go home.”

His arms tightened as fear pierced his gut, ‘Stay?’ He signed with sad eyes, ‘Come back?’

You gave him a watery smile before nodding, “I…I can.” You thought on the life you had, back in the heat, the warmth of a residential house. Small, cramped, surrounded by other people. Your job wasn’t even most of your income. Your art could flourish. You could be with this loveable, giant phantom. No one would ever know. You took a deep breath and stood up, pressing another kiss to Jason’s head, “I’ll find a way. I have enough money to stay another few weeks anyway.” You grinned, “We can figure it out from there…” You took a giant hand and pressed a kiss to the cold flesh, “I think I love you too.” Jason made a soft noise as he grappled you back into his arms.

 A Figure by the Lake, you thought, as you worked on the canvas the next day, looking at Jason as he walked back towards the water.

[s-creations]

Return the Flames - Chapter 10

All at Dead Bird Studios knew of Amos' (The  Conductor's) ability. How the owl could suddenly erupt into flames if  angered enough. When the studio first opened, Dominic (DJ Grooves) was  told that Amos had his ability under control. Nothing to worry about. No  possible loss of anything from an open flame.

A few years later however, and that control seems to have lessened to a dangerous degree.

It should have just been a simple, week long drive to fix the problem. It really should have been.

Dominic should have asked a lot more questions and should have been prepared for a twist ending.

_________________

Fandom: A Hat in Time       Rating: General Audience       Relationships/Pairings: The ConductorXDJ Grooves     Warnings: Eventual depictions of violence, slow burn relationship, named characters, attempt of an accent, being hunted down, a race against time (sort of).

It was so painfully cold. The flame that had scared him for so long, he now begged for it to return. Something, anything to starve off this chill that he seemed to be drowning in. The voices were gone as well. The quiet was somehow worse than their constant chanting and teasing. There was nothing here but the cold and the quiet. And he hated it.

 No one was there to see him struggle. To see him try and claw his way back up. He was alone and it hurt.

 He just wanted this to end.

 Someone just end this please!

 “You’ll be okay. I promise you’ll be okay.”

 But he hurt so much.

 “I know. But you’ll be okay.”

 He was so tired. 

 “I know. But you’ll be okay.”

 How could you say that so easily?

 “Because you’re stubborn and I know you won’t let something like this take you down. Please remain. I need you.”

 When Amos woke again, he was far more aware of his surroundings than the first time. Meaning no wild and frantic outburst while threatening others with a chair. It may have also helped his peace of mind to find Dominic passed out in the chair next to him instead of missing from the action. Said penguin’s upper body was laying out on the bed. Amos looked down, surprised to find his hand trapped in Dominic’s grasp.

 Sitting up as best he could and keeping his hand connected to the penguin’s, Amos took in the decor of the hut. Or at least what was actually there. As it was rather basic in it’s set up. Shelves on the wall near the bed held small pots and clean rags. The pots held so potent herbs if Amos’ nose was anything to go by. A small table was placed near the bed with a wooden cup holding water resting on top. The bed Amos was resting on was the only one in the small hut, Dominic resting on one of the two offered chairs. The hut itself was small but not cramped, with the door being nothing more than an archway that was covered by a deep red cloth that was gently moving in the chilled wind. 

 It was all oddly relaxing. Normally, Amos was uncomfortable with the quiet and the calm. Wanting to just move and work on something. At this moment however, he just wanted to stay like this for a little while longer. Laying on a rather comfortable bed with no one hunting him down and Dominic sitting so close.

 “Amos…?” Said penguin grumbled weakly, slowly starting to wake. One hand still gripping onto Amos’ while the other wiped at his eyes.

 “Hi…”

 Dominic laughed softly. “Hello. How are you feeling?”

 “Better...more aware than I was before. Where are we?”

 “A small village near the base of the mountain.”

 “H-How far?”

 “About a day's walk, maybe two.”

 “Good...Good, then we can leave and get this done with.” Amos winced as he attempted to stand. Only to be held back down by Dominic.

 “Calm yourself. You’re still healing.”

 “But we need ta go.”

 “Amos, we’re safe here. We’re hidden away and they have patrols set up to make sure no agents get too close. Please give yourself a day to relax before we start moving again.”

 Amos frowned, reaching out to grip Dominic’s hand again. The penguin happily returned the gesture, both hands wrapping around Amos’ single. A thumb rubbed the back of the owl’s hand. It was such a soothing gesture that Amos had no reason to argue. 

 “...We’ll leave tomorrow?”

 Dominic smiled. “Tomorrow, I promise Sweetheart.”

 “Alright.”

 “Is the Child awake?” The birds turned towards the entrance as the Elder and two healers walked in. Dominic pulled away to allow Amos to be examined. The owl was upset at the loss of that comfort. But instead of focusing on that, he turned towards the Elder.

 “Child? I ain’t that much younger than yer grizzled self.”

 “Amos.” Dominic berated from the sidelines.

 The Elder merely chuckled. “So, you are also close to 600 years?”

 “...No.” The owl grumbled. 

 “Don’t fret. I only call you Child, not because of your age, but because of your heritage.”

 “Heritage… Ya mean the Phoenix side o’ me.”

 “Correct! You are the Child of the Pure Flame. A being who’s a direct descendant of the Celestial Phoenix.”

 “Yeah, great fun. Nothin’ like bein’ related to a deadbeat father.”

 “Fair point.” The Elder fell quiet when one of the healers spoke up. Nodding a few times before addressing the visiting birds again. “It seems as if the Child is going well.”

 “The ‘Child’ has a name.”

 “Ah, very well. While you’re doing well Amos, I would advise you take it slow today. It’s unclear if you have fully ‘flushed’ everything out of your system yet. It would be a great misstep if you started your journey again only to relapse.”

 “...Fine.”

 “Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on him.” Dominic smirked at the glare Amos sent his way.

 “Wonderful!” the Elder laughed, “I will find something for you to wear.”

 Amos’ feathers fluffed at that. “We have luggage…”

 “I’m well aware. Where do you think I’m getting your outfit from?”

 Dominic held in a laugh at the Elder’s mocking tone, said monk and the healers leaving the visiting birds alone. Amos laid back down, arms crossed and clearly pouting.

 “...Sassy goat.”

 Dominic couldn’t cover up his laughter at that.

 ___________________

 It was in the early afternoon when they emerged from the medical hut. The owl swearing up and down he was going to pull his feathers out if he stayed in that bed any longer. Amos put up a disgruntled facade when he realized he would have to lean against Dominic to keep himself upright. Hoping it was enough to pull attention away from his furiously beating heart as the penguin slipped an arm around Amos’ waist. 

 Being able to move, even if it was slow going at first, changed his attitude quickly. Instead of feeling confined, he was able to see where they’d tucked themselves away while hiding from the world. It was quaint and small. Something clearly not touched by anything outside in the modern world. A place Amos was actually happy they were able to stop at before this journey ended. 

 Although it was confusing as to why all in the village seemed to be running around.

 “What are all these nomads doin’?” Amos questioned as another group returned with baskets filled with fruit.

 “Setting up a feast for us.” Dominic replied simply.

 “Us?”

 “Well, more of a way to help us relax. But yes, us.”

 “Ah, of course…”

 “Are you uncomfortable with this?”

 The owl squirmed. “...Maybe.”

 Dominic merely laughed. “Rather strange to hear that coming from you.”

 “What are ya yammerin’ about?”

 “That you're not alright with all this attention. You. The bird who flaunts every 1st place trophy you’ve ever gotten.”

 “I earned the right ta flaunt them! Also, very funny comin’ from you. You with yer flashy outfits.”

 “How dare you.” Both attempted to hold their glares. Only to end up laughing the next second. “Good to know we both have our prideful hangups.”

 Amos waved his hand to easily push the conversation away. “Good ta hear yer happy. Now, let’s see if this village has somethin’ ta drink.”

 “You’d better be discussing water.”

 “Only if it’s fermented.”

 “That makes no sense!”

 Amos laughed as he broke away from Dominic’s grasp, limping slightly as he headed over to the  first collection of food. The penguin quickly followed. But the owl was already sniffing the nearest piles of fruit when Dominic joined his side again.

 “And how are you going to ask for a drink? I don’t think nomads even have alcohol.”

 “I wasn’t lyin’ about the fermentation. Here.”

 Dominic fumbled slightly as a lumpy skinned, purple fruit was tossed his way. He gave it a tentative sniff. Which he instantly regretted and he pulled away in disgust. “That’s horrible, it smells like brandy!”

 “Ya know it.” Amos confirmed, taking a large bite out of the one he held. “Oof, that’ll put feathers on yer tail.”

 Dominic frowned as the owl quickly polished off the fruit he had before going for another one. The penguin quickly grabbed the other’s wrist. Smiling sheepishly at the disgruntled look he received. “I’m sure this is your typical way to, uh, self medicate. But I would like you to try and take it easy.”

 Amos huffed. “Fine...one more and then I’ll wait for the festivities to properly begin.”

 Not really what Dominic was asking for. But he supposed that was the best he was going to get. Perhaps he could make another convincing argument later. 

 To keep themselves somewhat entertained, Dominic volunteered them to help set up the feast. With Amos responding to this by grumbling about wanting to just relax. And the nomads gestured to explain that they were guests and should just be enjoying themselves, not working. But the penguin was able to convince both parties to participate in some way. 

 It was a little touch and go as far as where the visiting birds would be able to help out. But they eventually found their comfort zones. Dominic primarily stayed with the cooks. Helping out with the multiple dishes that were being prepared and layout the table that would hold the mountain of food. Chatting with the cooks that could understand him and looking forward to recreating some of these dishes when he got home.

 Amos, however, stuck with the younger generation. Keeping the children of the village entertained by playing games and helping them carry the needed wood for the planned evening bonfire. Dominic saw that personality the owl’s grandchildren clamored for whenever they saw him. Amos even seemed younger than what his true age was. It was endearing to watch him chase the small forms around the large pile of firewood. 

 The owl was darting everywhere in that village, seeming to carry multiple children at a time. Dominic smiled whenever Amos would pass by the cooking area, happy to know the other was feeling better.

 “Amos seems to be doing well.” The Elder commented, the penguin unprepared for the other’s arrival. 

 “He is...He really is,” Dominic replied after his heart calmed down, “I’ve only heard him laugh a few times over our working years. But this trip, despite its hardships, has opened him up just a little bit more.”

 “You’ve done well with helping in that aspect. I hope he understands that.”

 The penguin became flustered, placing the knife down to address the elder better. “I...I think he does.”

 “Bonfires are a rather romantic setting.”

 “I- Why are you so interested in my love life? I don’t even know you!”

 “Hello, I’m the Elder of the Starlight Mountain village.”

 “You know what I mean.”

 “Dominic, I understand that flustered, nervous feeling. All too well actually. I know the situation is not what you would expect it to be. But...I’m worried that your window of opportunity is slowly closing.”

 “I know…” Dominic huffed as he chopped vegetables. A bit more violently than what he probably should have done. “I know. But this isn’t about me. It’s about keeping him happy and healthy...and hope that is enough to keep him here.”

 The Elder nodded slowly. “Believe me when I say, you make him happy.”

 The penguin was not pleased with how hot he’d become from that statement.

 As the sun began to set, the large bundle of collected wood was finally lit. Dominic was pleased with the numerous pieces of food he’d helped create. Even partaking in the fermented fruit before Amos ate it all. The owl clearly flushed, even with how early in the celebration they were. Music soon started being played, numerous nomads taking up places around the roaring fire. Dancing around it either alone or with a partner in hand. Dominic felt his foot tapping to the beat while Amos made some half-hearted comment about it being unnecessary. 

 The sky was completely dark when Dominic lost some inhibitions and allowed the loud music to take over. Joining the already dancing nomads surrounding the large fire, he moved from partner to partner, the music seeming to swell as he moved to it. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to let all just melt away and allowed himself to just move. Move without a care and let the music take control. 

 All of it came to a short pause when he felt a clawed hand grab one of his. Quickly being pulled flushed against Amos, whose face was very red. 

 Dominic was only allowed a moment's pause to look Amos over before he was pulled in to dance. The owl took the lead. A skilled dancer even in his drunken state. It was an absolute thrill. Dominic laughed as he pressed closer, Amos responding in kind, and the rest of the world seemed to just disappear. It was just the two of them, having a moment where they could just focus on themselves. Better than the fair as Amos initiated the contact. Even if he was drunk. But if that smile on his face was any indication, the owl was just as happy as Dominic was right now.

 The penguin was brought back when the cheers of the nomads became louder than the music. Dominic’s attention was pulled towards the fire. Which had become taller than what it was before. A spiral of different colors that reached out towards the sky as it twisted and turned. It was a spectacular light show that seemed to speed the penguin’s heart rate. 

 Amos let out a small chirp before nuzzling under Dominic’s beak. The penguin felt warmer suddenly and he gently nipped behind the owl’s ear. The roaring fire wasn’t the only source of warmth for that evening. 

[for-fucks-sake-h]

As You Held Onto Me - Four

a/n: Hello! I don’t have much to say, other than a HUGE thank you to my sweet friends @oh-honey-styles​ and @andwhenshesays​ for inspiring me to finish this story and being genuinely beautiful people that I feel lucky to know. I hope you all like it. Enjoy! x  

CATCH UP ON PREVIOUS PARTS HERE 

Rated: M, mature // Word Count: 5.7k 

Sometimes, love can feel like it’s everything. And sometimes, we hope it can be.

***

- Wednesday, December 24, 2017 -

“Goodnight, loves! See you in the morning,” Anne called with a kind smile from across the room as you and Harry made your way up the stairs of his childhood home.  

After a night of delicious food, games and wonderful company, Harry called it a night, whispering in your ear that he was ready to spend time with just you.  So you bid your goodnights to his family, taking your empty hot chocolate mugs to the dishwasher before ascending the stairs with smiles on your faces.    

His old bedroom looked the same; posters on the walls of his favorite bands, a dark oak desk in one corner with knick-knacks and books and a small reading lamp, an old striped chair tucked beside it, and his bed in the center below a large window with a soft duvet and blankets neatly placed on top.  It smelled like cinnamon from the candle he had lit earlier in the day and the room was dimly lit from the brightly shining moon.  

“I love your family,” you whispered with a smile as you bent down to fish one of his old tee shirts from your shared luggage.  

He sat on the end of the bed, slipping his socks off and tossing them next to the chair in what would be deemed your ‘dirty pile’.  You watched him reach behind his neck to tug his hoodie over his head, his hair sticking up from the static.  He was quiet for a moment, simply watching you shimmy out of your clothes and bra, shrugging the shirt on and pulling it down over your underwear.  He leaned up to slip his sweatpants off, kicking them over to the pile before his fingers encased yours, tugging you to stand between his legs.      

Your hands rested on his shoulders, his worn tee shirt feeling exceedingly soft beneath your palms as he trailed his fingers up and down your bare legs.  

“I love you,” he whispered with his face tilted up to yours as his fingers drew designs on your thighs.  

You ran your hand up his neck to cup his face, your thumb brushing the soft, warm skin of his cheek. His eyes were heavy; fluttering softly at your touch before you leaned in to press your lips to his.  You could feel his sigh rather than hear it, only a soft exhale as you gently sucked his top lip.  

Your other hand lifted to scratch the back of his head as your mouths slowly parted, savoring his taste until the very last second.  You rested your forehead against his, breathing in the faint smell of his cologne and fresh linen scent of the detergent he loved.  It wasn’t the first Christmas you spent together, or even the first spent at his family's home, but it felt special in its own way.  

“Come on,” you nudged your noses together, “you know they’re gonna be up early.”

He breathed a soft laugh, pulling himself to slide up the bed and pull the covers down for you.  You crawled up the bed, tucking yourself beneath the cold sheets to snuggle in next to him.  He pulled you closer immediately, situating yourselves until you were laying on your sides, sharing his pillow, legs tangled. His hand rested on your hip as yours squeezed his shirt in the center of his chest.  

You could feel his breath tickle across your lips, your noses nearly touching. Circles were drawn into your skin again, just above your underwear. His warmth encompassed you beneath the sheets the same way his soul did.  You could have ten thousand of those moments and it still wouldn’t feel like enough.  

He kissed you sweetly, his lips slow and drawn out as they teased and sucked yours. His hand squeezed your hip, pulling you even closer.  You wrapped your arms around his neck, tangling yourself with him as much as you coud, always wanting to be closer.  Even when he was inside you, as close to you as humanly possible, you wanted more.  

“Marry me,” he breathed against your mouth. You pulled your head back enough to find his eyes still closed, admiring the way they opened slowly to peer into yours. “Was gonna ask during presents,” he murmured before chuckling slightly, “had a whole plan.”  

Your brows creased, endeared, before smiling. “What changed?”

His hand lifted to cup your cheek, his fingers tightly gripping the back of your neck.  “Just decided I only wanna share this with you.”  

Your lips pouted slightly as warmth burst from your heart to travel throughout your entire body.  You kissed him fully, his tongue smoothing over yours as he hummed.  

He giggled against your lips. “Is that a yes?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you repeated as you moved to smother your lips across his cheek and jaw.

He tucked his face into your neck, hugging you so tight you could feel the patter of his heart against his ribs.  His lips sucked soft kisses into your skin, his hands rubbing soothingly up and down your back.  He kissed his way back to your mouth, pressing one last deep kiss to your lips, drinking you in slowly before peeling his body away from yours.  

You wiped the corners of your teary eyes as he leaned over the edge of the bed to rummage through a discreetly tucked away duffle bag that he had apparently been hiding.  Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, your cheeks warm and your skin prickling as he turned back towards you with a closed fist.  

You sat up with him, both of you crossing your legs, sitting face to face in the center of his childhood bed.  

He fixed the ring between his first finger and thumb before extending his shaky hand out to you.  It sparkled against the moonlight and the only thing you could think was how much you loved him.  How often you thought about this moment, how often you both had talked about it, how happy you were that him becoming your forever was a reality.

You extended your hand as you sniffled, giggling with him as he slid the ring on, taking approximately five seconds to admire it on your finger before launching yourself into him.  

“I promise I’ll love you forever,” he whispered into your hair, emotion thick in his throat as he pulled you closer.  

“I love you so much,” you giggled as you fell back onto the bed with your arms tightly wrapped around one another.  

Kisses were peppered against warm skin. Clothes were eagerly pulled off.  He pushed into you slowly, promising that he could be quiet.  Every movement was drawn out, until you were tensing around him with your mouths pathetically attempting to stifle your moans. And he was following right behind you, his hips stuttering into yours as murmurs of I love you fell into your mouth to slip down your throat and find their way to your heart.  

***

- Friday, June 30, 2020 -

You entered your empty home, holding onto the door frame to slip your shoes off as your exhaustion set in. All you were looking forward to was a long, hot shower after a day from hell at the hospital. You knew these days were part of the job description but it never made it any easier.  

The house was eerily quiet as you made your way through the dark, dodging kitchen counters and furniture from memory before making your way upstairs.  The sensored hallway night light came on as you turned the corner into your bedroom, stripping off your scrubs quickly and tossing them into the hamper.  You turned the ensuite’s dimmer light switch to half way, the anticipation of the water pressure on your shoulders already easing your low mood.    

After adjusting the shower temperature, you lit the lavender candle you kept on the counter, turned on the bluetooth speaker and pressed play for The Neighbourhood’s ‘I Love You.’ album.

Eagerly stepping into the steam, you tipped your head back as you let the warm water encase you, sending chills across your skin. You took your time, washing with a strawberry body wash and mint shampoo until your skin was raw and your head felt squeaky clean.  

You lathered yourself in lotion and dressed in your coziest, oversized sweatshirt before turning your night stand lamp on and slipping into bed.  It was only eight o'clock yet you felt like it was the middle of the night with how tired you were.  You settled in, ready to read a few chapters of your book, but then suddenly lips softly grazing your temple stirred you awake.  

“Shh, don’t have to get up.”  The husky sentiment was whispered into the back of your neck as a warm palm ran down the sleeve of your sweatshirt.    

He pulled you closer, his front curving against your back, his hand sliding down to rest on your belly.  The hair of his bare legs tickled yours as he breathed you in, inhaling where his face was tucked into your hair.  

You reached down to hold to the back of his hand as you arched your back in a stretch before whispering, “What time is it?”

“Half nine,” he spoke against the back of your head, his lips leaving a soft kiss to your hair.  

You hummed, pushing yourself back against him more. “Long shoot,” you stated simply.      

“Unbearably long,” he chuckled in agreement, his breath tickling the back of your neck. “How was your day?”

“Unbearably long,” you repeated.  

“You okay? Feel okay?” His tone was soft, his voice low and deep with a tinge of concern.  

“Yeah, just tired. Took a long shower,” you assured him as you intertwined your ankles.  

“And used my shampoo,” he teased as he sniffed your hair again with a deep inhale.  

“It’s growing on me,” you laughed softly, “and doesn’t make me wanna throw up anymore.”  

“That’s good,” he hummed, stroking his palm over your round belly.  “Ah, there she is.”  You could hear his smile as he pressed his face into your neck more. “Was wondering if she was awake.”  

“Always wakes up when she hears your voice,” you spoke softly.  

Another soft kick had him stilling his hand against you to feel your baby greet him.  It wasn’t a lie, every time she heard the deep timber of his voice she moved in search of the warm palm that typically rested on your growing belly.  

“Only three more months,” he whispered after a while, fingers gently pressing into your skin.  

“Can’t wait,” you smiled as you tried to absorb every fiber of love his palm on your belly filled you with.

***  

You blinked your eyes a few times, the morning sun slowly pulling you from sleep the only way it should on a Saturday morning.  

You were in the same exact position from the night before, Harry tucked up behind you with his arm draped over your waist.  You slept like a rock, thankful that you were still peacefully sleeping through the night. From what you’d read, the third trimester only got more and more uncomfortable.  

All in all, your pregnancy had been smooth thus far. Your hematologist got you on an injection blood thinner as soon as you conceived, and by the end of the first week you were a pro at giving yourself the shot every night, six o’clock on the dot.  Granted, the bottom of your belly and hips were tender and bruised and oftentimes you had to sneak into the bathroom wherever you were to do it, but it was a price you decided was worth having to pay for a baby at the end of nine months.    

Aside from that, you had pretty standard side effects. The thought of chicken made you gag for a while, you’d never wanted gushers and fruit roll ups more often in your life, and you had a bad case of nausea that seemed to linger longer than the typical first trimester mark, only easing up in the last week or so.  Your nails and hair were growing like crazy, you were tired a lot of the time and randomly became out of breath if you walked too fast, but you and your baby were healthy, and that was all you could ask for.  

Harry was supportive in every way he could be, and you couldn’t say you were surprised.  He held your hand when you needed it, rubbed your aching feet, talked you down when your anxiety of having another miscarriage became too much, and loved you unconditionally throughout.  

When you were young, you used to wonder what your life would be like; what your future spouse would be like. You hoped he was kind and sweet, had a good sense of humor, maybe could cook. You didn’t realize everything that entailed being a good partner and how easily Harry exceeded any and all expectations.  After everything you’d been through together, you felt overwhelmingly lucky to have him by your side.  

His thigh twitching where it rested between your legs pulled you from your thoughts. He was most likely going to stir from his sleep soon, as if his body could sense when you were awake, pulling him from his dreams to check on you. And just as the thought crossed your mind, his hand flexed against your belly as he pulled in a deep breath from where his face was tucked against your shoulder blade.  

“Morning,” he rasped against your back.

The deep tone of his voice seeped into your sweatshirt to send a chill directly down your spine. He pulled you in, always seemingly wanting you closer, pushing his leg between yours more.  It was like electricity blew through you at the simple gesture, as if he hadn’t done it a million times before in your time together. You couldn’t explain it if you tried, but heat pooled in your stomach, fluttering up into your belly as you arched against him more.  

“Oop,” he breathed as your ass pressed into his groin.  

You could feel where his length rested on his thigh, twitching eagerly at the small contact. But it was enough to have him squeezing your hip and pulling you against him more, hips flexing into you.  

Everything was slow; his hand pulling the shoulder of your sweatshirt down to press his lips to your skin, his hips rolling against you longingly, his hands gripping you feverently.  His breath came in small puffs, increasing as his cock throbbed. He pressed his thigh against your core, moaning softly at the dampness of your slit. Your skin felt like it was on fire, need burning deep in your belly.  

He was sucking marks into the skin of your neck, gripping your hip harshly as his length tucked perfectly between your ass cheeks, pressing his thigh against you even more.  He breathed your name softly, his hand trailing down your thigh just to travel back up to grip your waist under your sweatshirt.  

“I’m so hot,” you breathed.  

“Fuck, me too,” he moaned softly before sucking the spot where your shoulder met your neck.  

“No really,” you chuckled, “I need to take this off.”  You motioned to your sweatshirt, tugging on the bottom as an endearing oh fell from Harry’s lips.  

He helped pull it over your head, the cool air of the bedroom tickling your skin as he tossed it over your bed.  

“Better?” He questioned, his hand coming up to hold your waist, his fingers gripping just below your breast as his warm chest pressed against your back.  

“Mhm,” you nodded as he tucked his other arm back under your neck, immediately pulling your fingers with his to intertwine them and extend your arms across your mattress.  

Your other hand reached behind you, fingers gripping his soft hip as he flexed against you again.  His mouth was hot and heavy on your neck, eagerly nipping and licking your tingling skin. His breathing was ragged and shaky as he pressed his hard length against you, effectively pulling a sigh from your lips.  

His hot palm slipped down your side until it rested over the center of your belly, pausing for a beat before traveling down to your core.  He cupped you softly, his touch almost ticklish in the way his fingers grazed your lips.  

“Want you,” he breathed as he tucked his middle finger into your slit.  

Your head tipped back at the contact, his open mouth grazing your neck. Circles were pressed into your clit, three slow passes before he was dipping inside to his first knuckle.  He groaned softly at the feeling of your arousal pooling at your entrance.  

“You should fuck me,” you murmured.  

“Should I?”  You could hear the faint smirk pulling at his lips as he brought your wetness to your clit, his circles torturously slow.  

“Mhm,” you smiled as you arched your hips into his.  

His mouth sucked a spot on the back of your shoulder, the fingers intertwined with yours squeezing slightly as his other hand moved up your mound, his wet fingers leaving a trail on your skin.  You could feel him tugging his boxers down, your stomach twisting with desire. It came over you so quickly, your need to be close to him.  Maybe it wasn’t as often as it was in the past, especially as of late. But when it hit you, it was still so strong.  

“Want me?”  He spoke into your shoulder blade, his warm breath erupting goosebumps across your skin.  

You moaned softly when he grazed the tip of his cock between your legs, hard and ready and waiting for you.  

“So bad,” you spread your legs for him, your top knee bending further away to allow him access to your core.  

You both moaned as he eased into you slowly. Your mouth fell open in pleasure as your core spasmed around his head.  It wasn’t one full push, but small teasing thrusts as he slowly gave you inch after inch.  He was panting behind you, soft little mewls of breath as his hand dug into the skin of your hip until his pelvis met your ass, his length pressing deep inside you.  

He was completely still aside from his lips pressing kiss after kiss to your skin.  Your back, your shoulder, your neck, over and over again.  

“H,” you breathed when his hips withdrew before pressing back into you slowly. Fire licked up your spine, your hand flexing in his as your other gripped the sheets in a fist.

He moaned softly before murmuring into your neck, “It’s good, yeah?”    

His pace was steady, but slow in the best kind of way. The kind that set fire under your skin and would pull an orgasm from you gradually, the build up just as delicious as the explosion. You could feel every inch of him, every ridge and pulse of his cock as he rolled his hips into yours.  It was the way morning sex was supposed to be, deep and reaching, with hushed moans and sluggish limbs, warm skin and gripping hands.  

“Oh my god...” Your voice was nothing more than a whisper, his thrusts reaching the deepest parts of you.    

He moaned before sinking his teeth into the top of your shoulder. His hand left your hip to reach for your wrist and push your hand between your legs. “Touch yourself,” he instructed softly as he pressed his hand over top of yours, effectively pushing your fingers against your clit. “Want you to come.”  

“Fuck,” you breathed as your fingers matched his pace, slow circles against your clit that only intestified his thrusts.  

His hand smoothed up your side until he could wrap his arm around your waist, his arm perfectly draped over the top of your belly.  His fingers tucked between your side and the mattress, gripping your soft skin as his mouth found your neck once more. For how slow and lazy his thrusts were, his lips were harsh in comparison, no doubt leaving marks on the skin of your shoulder and back for days to come.  For every bite, he soothed his tongue over the spot, and every strong suck received an even softer kiss.  And he did it as often as he could — as often as his body would allow — when he wasn’t moaning low in his throat from the pleasure swirling in his stomach.  

“Mhm, yeah,” he spurred you on when your core tightened around him.  It felt like you were vibrating with pleasure, like every fiber of your being was electrified and blazing under your skin.  

“You feel so good,” you whined into the pillow, your fingers picking up pace against your sensitive clit.  You were so close, you could feel your orgasm swimming in the pit of your stomach just waiting to burst.  

His hand slid across your belly to grip harshly to your hip, pulling you back on his cock the tiniest bit. But it was enough to have you choking back a moan as his length reached even deeper inside you. It still surprised you after so much time just how full he could make you feel.  

“Come on,” he groaned as his hips slapped into yours with a little more power, his fingers turning white against your skin.

There was a part of you that hoped he left bruises. You couldn’t help but feel like your body looked prettier with remnants of his love sprinkled across it.    

“Oh god, shit,” you gasped as your orgasm rolled throughout your entire body.  It spilled out of you slowly, erupting under your skin to crawl throughout your limbs.  It was so slow, every wave taking its time to crash over your head and pull you under.  

“Yes, yes, yes,” Harry groaned roughly, his lips catching on your skin with each desperate plea as he came, pumping his hips into you as long as he could handle.  Until he was so sensitive that tears burned his eyes and he had no choice but to still inside you. “God, you’re fucking made for me.”  His admission was so breathy it made your core clench around him tighter, his passion fluttering directly from his heart to yours.        

You were panting wildly, your mouth finding the inside of his bicep to place a sucking kiss to his hot skin.  Your legs felt like they were vibrating as he pulled out of you so slowly, making a chill roll down your spine at the emptiness.      

You leaned back against him more but shifted to your back when he disconnected your hands and moved out from behind you. He was kneeling above you, spreading your legs open to slot himself between them.  

“Har,” you breathed as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to the bottom of your belly.  

“Need one more,” he murmured against your belly before quickly moving down to swipe a strong pass of his tongue from your dripping core up to your clit.  

You released a low, heady moan from the back of your throat at the contact, your legs immediately snapping closed around his head.  He was quick to open them again, his palms burning hot against the soft skin of your inner thighs as he spread you open for him, lapping at your sensitive clit like it was the only thing he ever wanted to do.  

Your hands carded through his hair, gripping tightly as he sucked and licked between your folds.  The thought of him tasting both of you had your mind reeling. His moans were thick and deep as his tongue plunged inside you, fucking into you with fever as he squeezed your thighs while pressing them into the mattress.  

When he licked back up to your clit, catching it lightly with his teeth before trilling his tongue against it, you couldn’t help your head from flinging back into the pillows with a low moan of his name. Your moans and pants only egged him on; made him swirl his tongue over you before suctioning his mouth on your clit.  And all it took was a rough roll of his tongue before you were whimpering through your release and coating his chin in your juices.  

His moans only intensified your pleasure, both from the vibrations from his mouth and how much he was enjoying himself.  You knew he loved it, yet it always made your skin crawl with arousal seeing just how much he seemed to get out of making you feel good.  It was like he was addicted to it, always making sure you were completely spent before he could feel satisfied.

You tugged on his hair, closing your knees around his head once more.  To say you were sensitive would be the greatest understatement.  Sparks were still bouncing off your skin as you started to come down, your chest rising and falling harshly as you caught your breath.  

Harry eased up, leaning up to press a kiss to your mound, and then the inside of your thigh, before he crawled up your body to lay beside you.  His hand rested on your belly as his mouth found yours, both your taste and his invading your heightened senses when his tongue passed yours in a smooth glide.      

“Loved every second of that,” he murmured once he rested his forehead against yours, his fingers drawing odd shapes across the skin of your stomach.  

You turned onto your side, keeping your face close to his as you tucked some of his hair behind his ear.  “I missed this,” you admitted softly as you lightly scratched down his neck.  

“What, love?”  

“Just waking up like this. Feeling like everything is easy,” you shrugged slightly.  

He was quiet for a moment, his hand stroking up and down your side before settling on your waist.  “Where’s this coming from?”  

You hesitated because you really weren’t sure.  Maybe it was the orgasms, maybe that was just your excuse. But you couldn’t help thinking how much you loved being close to him, and how often you hadn’t felt close to him over the last couple years. And how it had been your own doing.  

“I don’t know,” you brushed your noses together softly. “Just ignore me.”  

“Hm, can’t do that,” he pulled you closer, your belly pressing into his as he wrapped his arm around you.  He danced his fingers up and down your spine soothingly as he continued, “You can always talk to me.”  

“I don’t know why I’m even thinking about this,” you shook your head against his as you kept your eyes closed.  

He was quiet as he waited for you to open up, letting you get there on your own.  He was good at that; letting you gather yourself and your thoughts for as long as you needed without pressing you.  He was always so patient and accepting and encouraging and you loved him so much for it.  

“You’re gonna be a really good dad H,” you chose to say.  

“And you’re gonna be a great mom,” he replied without missing a beat.    

His fingers continuously stroked against your skin, easing you in a way you probably couldn't even describe.  It was like he always knew what you needed, and gave it freely without question.  

You nodded against his forehead slightly before pulling your head back to look at him.  His hair was a mess above him, stretching out wildly across the pillow.  His cheek had the slightest indent from his pillow still with the prettiest rosy tinge. His eyes were sleepy and his lips were puffy, everything about him, from his face to his soul, was inviting.  

“Are you scared?” You asked quietly as you pet the back of his neck.  

His eyes fluttered, maybe at your touch or maybe at your question.  “Of course,” he exhaled, “think that’s normal.”  

“I’m scared,” you admitted, almost ashamed.  

“What are you afraid of?”  

“Everything,” you breathed, “I’m still afraid something bad could happen.” You shook your head, knowing full well that Harry knew what you meant just by the sad look on his face. “I’m afraid there’ll be a complication in delivery because of all these blood thinners.”  Your eyes danced across his features, noticing the way his brows furrowed the tiniest bit.  You searched his eyes for a moment, the pale green accentuated by the morning light. “I’m afraid... I’m afraid I won’t be any good at it,” you sighed, your own eyebrows crinkling with emotion.  

“Baby,” he exhaled as his hand came up to cup the side of your neck.  

Your eyes flicked over his face for a moment, concern etched into every line.  “I haven’t been thinking about it a lot,” you added quickly, knowing how important it was to him for you to be honest about how you were feeling. “But I can’t help it sometimes, you know? I don’t know,” you continued after a beat, “we’re getting closer and I guess I’m just getting nervous,” you rushed, guilt plaguing your confession. “I don’t wanna worry you.”  

“Love,” he started slowly, drawing the word out like a violins final note. “You gotta stop worrying about worrying me.  That’s not how this works. Let me comfort you. Let me try to at least help ease your mind.”  

You looked back at this man, with his pleading eyes and warm heart, and could physically feel your anxiety easing, and he hadn’t even said anything yet.  It was just him.  There was no other way to describe the way he made you feel just with a look, just with his eyes on yours.  

His thumb brushed across your cheek tenderly as he spoke, “Sobel knows what he’s doing, he’ll make sure everything goes smoothly in delivery.  And I’ll be holding your hand the entire time. Please try not to worry about that.”  His eyes flicked up as he smoothed the hair at the top of your head, his gaze following his movements as he brought his palm back to your cheek before finding your eyes once more. “And you’re going to be an amazing mom. I wouldn’t want to share this with anyone else.  You have to know that.”  

You smiled slightly as your eyes brimmed, amazed at how you really could feel better just by listening to him talk.  Harry quickly swept away the single tear that slipped down your cheek.  

“You’re biased,” you mumble before kissing him softly.  

His fingers tightened on the back of your neck as his mouth moved over yours, lips sucking your bottom lip in a savory kiss.  “A little,” he smiled against your mouth, “But I’m right too.”  

You breathed a laugh as you threaded your fingers through his soft hair, already feeling more at ease. He always knew how to make you feel better. It was almost masochistic, the way you tended to keep things to yourself when you knew if you just talked it out, you’d feel better.  

And you did feel better.  Harry always had a way of not dragging things out.  He was the perfect oxymoron of support and relief.  

“We’re gonna figure everything out together,” he added before pressing a kiss to your forehead.  

You tucked your face into his neck, inhaling against his heated skin as he wrapped his arms around you.  “I love you,” you murmured into his neck.  

A firm kick ricocheted against your skin so suddenly it had Harry chuckling. “There she is,” he giggled excitedly. “Nice of you to join us love,” he spoke down to your belly, slipping down the mattress to press his lips right above your belly button.  “Knew we were talking about you, huh?”  

You laughed softly as he peppered kisses to your belly, receiving pleased little kicks in return.  

“She must be a narcissist like her dad,” you said as you scratched his head fondly.  

“Your mom’s just mad that you like me more,” he spoke directly against the skin of your stomach, receiving another soft kick right against his lips. His hand smoothed over your hip, fingers rubbing into your lower back. “It’s crazy,” he looked up at you with bright eyes and a sweet smile, “it’s like she knows exactly where I am.”  

You grinned down at him, watching as he went back to kissing and talking to your stomach. It was moments like these that made you even more excited to meet this little human, to hold her in your arms and kiss her little nose, to watch Harry love her.  

You were counting down the days, and even though you weren't out of the woods yet, you were hopeful; choosing to remain positive that everything was going to turn out okay.  

***

- Tuesday, September 28, 2020 -

You kissed Harry goodbye early that morning and headed to work for your only twelve hour shift of the week.

You were due in a couple weeks and decided it would be best if you knocked your hours down to one shift a week. Your last trimester had been good, uneventful in surprises from week to week. It was exhausting though and your body ached daily. But you couldn’t just sit home until you delivered, so one shift a week would have to be enough.

As soon as you opened your eyes that morning, a faint pain throbbed in your lower back. It seemed like a new sore spot popped up every day. But you powered through, knowing any pain you endured would be worth it in the end.

You were nearly an hour into your shift, having just finished your rounds and heading to the nurses station to update charts.

“You okay?” Your coworker Jess asked with a chuckle.

You practically fell into your chair, breathing heavily while your back ached, feeling like it was on fire.  You felt like you couldn’t catch your breath, laying a hand over your chest to feel the frantic beat of your heart.

“YN?”

The pain in your back traveled to your stomach; sharp and pungent, provoking a small whine to fall from your lips.

“Something’s wrong,” you gasped as another sharp pain shot through the lowest part of your belly.

“Okay, deep breaths,” Jess eased as she kneeled next to you, blindly reaching up on your desk to grab your phone. “Are you having a contraction?”

“No, no,” you repeated as you tried to settle your breath and ignore the tears burning your eyes.

Your vision went spotty as you keeled over in pain, your hands gripping your belly. You could hear Jess calling for Dr. Sobel, her calm voice repeating that everything was going to be okay.

“Call Harry,” you breathed.

And then everything went black.

***

To anyone that has suffered from infertility or miscarriage... I’m so sorry.  Please know that you are not alone.  I love you, and I hope you get your rainbow soon.    

Thank you for reading.  As always, I would love to hear your thoughts x 

- PART FIVE -