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inkmonster21 · 1 month ago

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I Don’t Play Anymore

Hwang In-Ho / Frontman x Fem!Reader

Series Masterlist

As the daughter of the American Frontman, your life takes an unexpected turn as you accompany him to South Korea, to witness the 33rd Annual Squid Games. Being a spectator to the violent events unfolds, and you find yourself unexpectedly connecting with the Frontman.

01. Red Light, Green Light

The American Frontman had traveled to Korea with a purpose: to observe and learn from the infamous underground games. He wanted to gather as much knowledge as possible, so he could translate those elements into the games hosted in the United States.

He was a sharp, cunning individual, drawn to the spectacle of carefully crafted games that challenged people's wits, morals, and will to survive.

The American game maker, accompanied by a small security team and his daughter, boarded the boat that would take them to the remote island where the games took place.

You were well-acquainted with the concept of these games, having experienced firsthand the high-stakes thrill of your father's smaller-scale games. These events, limited to no more than 50 players, unfolded at a rapid pace, often concluding in just one day.

The games held a dark legacy within your family, a tradition passed down through generations. You had participated in the games four years ago, and emerged victorious, a title that filled you with both accomplishment and guilt. Your father, the current game master, was proud, carrying on a legacy started by your great-grandfather. The competition held its price - the cost of taking lives - but the thrill and satisfaction of victory outweighed any lingering doubts and remorse.

You were accompanying your father on a journey to the annual games held in Korea. This trip was more than just a spectator's view; it was an opportunity for both of you to learn and gain insights from the complex and ruthless games that unfolded on foreign soil.

The boat swayed and rocked as it navigated through the waves, and you gripped the railing tightly, a mix of annoyance and slight unease present on your face. You had never been fond of boats, finding the continuous motion and the vast expanse of water beneath you unsettling.

Frustration tinged your voice as you raised your phone, attempting to catch a single bar of service. The signal was weak, barely catching the faintest hint of a connection.

"I can't even get a single bar out here!" you exclaimed, the lack of reception leaving you disconnected from the world.

Your father, observant as always, shifted his gaze towards you. His expression was serious, and he spoke calmly.

"Do you really need it anyway?"

He raised an eyebrow, subtly questioning the need for constant connection and the distraction that technology often provided.

You nodded in response, your response coming out in a confident tone.

"Um, yes. Anderson said he was going to send the address of his friends' club. There's supposed to be a big party, and I can not miss that."

Your father's face remained impassive, but a small flicker of amusement flashed in his eyes at your eagerness for the party.

Your father chuckled, “maybe you can make some new friends, tell them about the good opportunities we could offer,” a hint of amusement in his tone. However, your reply, about friendships being cut short by the nature of your upbringing, carried a touch of bitterness.

"Yeah, and then have them killed. I swear I haven't had a friendship longer than 2 years because of you assholes." Your voice held a mix of frustration and resignation.

Your father's response was curt, and he reprimanded you harshly. "That 'asshole' paid for the Louboutins you're standing in," he scoffed. "I'd fix that attitude before we arrive. You don't want to make me look bad here, (y/n)."

His words held a mix of authority and warning, subtly reminding you to maintain decorum and uphold the family reputation.

As the boat neared the island, your father's head of security handed him a black crystal mask, shaped with the features of the mythical jackalope, adorned with its own set of black shimmering jeweled horns. The mask was a masterpiece, exuding a sense of power and exclusivity.

Your father's head of security handed you a smaller, more delicate mask, its design resembling an innocent rabbit compared to the intimidating jackalope. You looked at the mask with a hint of disdain, a scoff escaping your lips.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" you asked, your tone tinged with a mix of stubbornness and skepticism. Your father's tone was terse, his words simple yet commanding. "Wear it," he instructed firmly, his gaze unwavering. Without hesitation, he placed the black jeweled mask onto his own face, the mask accentuating his features in an eerie way.

With a reluctant sigh, you followed suit, slipping on the elegant black jeweled rabbit mask. The coolness of the metal against your skin sent a faint shiver down your spine. The intricate design of the mask felt both elegant and concealing, a subtle reminder of the event you were about to become a part of.

The black masks placed on the security men's faces only heightened your sense of unease, solidifying the gravity of the situation. The cold realization hit you like a wave, and you couldn't help but feel a sudden surge of regret. A whisper of doubt echoed in your mind, questioning whether staying home would have been a wiser choice. The island loomed ahead, a silent harbinger of the events yet to unfold.

As the boat neared the island, your father's tone held a tinge of seriousness, his words a stern command.

"I want you to pay attention to these games," he stated firmly, his gaze firm. "Observe the players, observe their responses, and see what makes the mind break." The stern words of your father echoed in your mind, his authority unwavering. "Yes, father," you responded, a mix of obedience and reluctance in your voice.

The boat docked, the path ahead uneven and treacherous, especially given the choice of footwear you wore. The path was clearly unwalked and unsteady, making it difficult for you to navigate properly. As you cautiously made your way along the path, you stumbled upon a seemingly invisible hatch door, hidden from prying eyes. The head of security stepped forward, punching in a code and signaling to a hidden camera. The hatch door slowly creaked open, revealing a descending staircase.

As the hatch door opened, you were met with the sight of a man dressed in a striking pink jumpsuit, his mask featuring a distinctive square shape. Behind him were an entourage of four pink-masked guards, each adorning black masks lined with triangles. The contrast of the bright colours and masks against the dim lighting of the stairwell created an atmosphere of surrealism and foreboding.

The head of security's words cut through the silence, his tone low and guarded.

"These are the American game makers," he spoke, his voice holding a mix of neutrality and wariness. "They've been anticipating their arrival."

The man in the pink jumpsuit responded in a simple, yet eerie tone that sent a chill down your spine.

"Yes," he said simply, "please, follow me." Without a moment's hesitation, he turned and began walking down the dimly lit stairwell, his guards falling into a precise formation behind him.

As you followed the pink-suited man up the staircase, you couldn't help but observe the surroundings, taking in the bright colors and cheerful décor. The room was intentionally designed to appear playful and pleasant, a stark contrast to the darkness and mystery that shrouded the truth.

You were led towards a pair of imposing double doors, their golden handles gleaming beneath the lights. The pink-suited man stepped inside, his voice carrying a respect and formality. "Sir, the American game maker has arrived," he announced, his words carrying a weight of significance. The doors opened wider, revealing a grand room.

As you entered the grand room, your gaze fell upon the imposing figure across from you - a man clad in a sharp black suit, his distinctive black mask adorned with a hood. His presence immediately commanded attention and respect, and you couldn't help but make the connection - this must be the Frontman, the counterpart to your father's role.

Your father stepped forward and introduced himself to the Frontman, ignoring your presence. You were not the focus here; you were merely a spectator, a silent observer, your importance seemingly diminished. The sense of insignificance gnawed at you, but you remained composed, maintaining a stoic expression as you watched the encounter unfold.

The Frontman spoke, his voice authoritative and confident. "It is a pleasure to have you witness our 33rd Annual Squid Games," he echoed with a practiced smile, his gaze fixed on your father.

The words echoed in the grand room, a stark reminder of the gravity and spectacle of the events about to unfold - the annual game where lives were on the line, and the consequences were severe.

Your phone buzzed, interrupting the tense atmosphere. With a pleased smile, you reached into your purse and retrieved the device. As you sat down on one of the couches lining the wall, you muttered, "Finally," under your breath. Despite the gravity of the occasion, you couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction at the distraction, grateful for a moment of respite from the tension.

You scrolled through the texts from your friends, their pleas for glamourous pictures from your vacation with your father only fueled your growing urge to break away and explore. As you glanced up, observing the room and the ongoing conversation, you weighed the option of sneaking out to indulge in something exciting of your own.

Just as you stood, preparing to casually leave the room, your father called out to you, his command firm and unwavering.

"Sit," he ordered, his voice stern. You froze in your tracks, the words reverberating in your mind. Your desire to step away and explore was abruptly brought to a halt by his authoritarian command.

“I’m just going to go-,” The click of the gun echoed in the room, causing you to halt your words. Your father's stern glare and the sight of him pointing the pistol at you filled you with a mix of fear and resignation. You reluctantly walked to the designated chair diagonally across from him and sat down, your eyes locked on the gun. It was a tactic he had used before, but it never failed to send a wave of fear through you, reminding you of the consequences of disobedience.

Despite being his daughter, you couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that your father wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. The tension in the room was palpable, and the cold, unwavering gaze of the gun sent chills down your spine.

You muttered your apology, the words leaving your lips with a mixture of guilt and resignation. Your father's glare softened slightly as he lowered the pistol, a hint of acknowledgment in his eyes. He said nothing, merely giving a subtle nod, acknowledging your apology but still keeping a watchful eye on you.

Your father turned his attention back to the Frontman, continuing the conversation with a casual tone.

"Kids," he remarked nonchalantly, referring to you with a subtle nod in your direction. "They can be quite a handful." You remained still in your seat, trying to blend into the background, silently absorbing the words exchanged between your father and the Frontman.

As the Frontman stared at you, his masked gaze fixed upon you, you couldn't help but feel a strange sense of acknowledgment. His gesture, the slight tilt of his head, conveyed a silent curiosity. Without fully understanding why, you responded with a subtle nod of your own, a silent acknowledgment passing between you.

The Frontman's curiosity grew as he observed you, his masked gaze now filled with deeper intrigue. There was a hint of concern beneath the hard exterior, a subtle indication of his genuine interest in your well-being. He couldn't quite pinpoint why, but there was an undeniable pull to ensure your safety and comfort.

The Frontman broke the silence, offering a gesture of hospitality. "Would you like a drink?" he asked, his voice calm yet with a touch of formality. The offer seemed almost casual, a small gesture amidst the tense atmosphere, but the underlying purpose remained clear - to maintain control and ensure everyone was comfortable while the games began.

With a grateful nod, you accepted the Frontman's offer of a drink. The nerves were building within you, and the thought of numbing the tension even slightly was enticing.

"Please," you replied, your voice carrying a mix of relief and anticipation, while your father remained stoic in his seat, observing the interaction with a guarded expression.

The guards moved swiftly and efficiently, providing you with a drink with remarkable speed. You couldn't help but appreciate the efficiency and the thoughtfulness of the gesture, offering a small nod to convey your gratitude, your smile tinged with a hint of tension. Your father watched the exchange with a guarded expression, his eyes scrutinizing every move you made, observing your every reaction.

The moment had arrived. The games were about to commence, and the first event was set to be red light, green light. A seemingly simple premise, yet the tension and anticipation hung heavily in the air. The atmosphere seemed charged with anticipation and the potential for both triumph and defeat.

As the screen lit up, the scene unfolded before your eyes. The field of players, clad in green tracksuits, moved forward, their movements slow and measured as they explored their surroundings. Their attention was immediately drawn to the large doll stationed at the far end, a sight that both captivated and unnerved.

The calm and cheerful voice echoed through the field, issuing the directive.

"Please stand behind the white line drawn on the field," it repeated, the words resonating in the air. "Once again, will all players please stand behind the white line and await further instructions."

The players, dressed in green tracksuits, stood in a line behind the white line, seemingly unaware of the danger that loomed ahead. They followed the instructions with obedience, showing no signs of comprehending the true nature of the games they had willingly entered. There was a sense of blind trust, oblivious to the impending chaos and violence that awaited them.

The phone on the small table beside you rang abruptly, catching your attention. The Frontman moved closer, answering the call with a sense of authority. "This is the Frontman speaking," he said, his voice carrying a confident yet somewhat chilling tone. "We can begin now," he confirmed.

The Frontman took his seat beside you, maintaining a respectful yet noticeable distance between you. However, you couldn't help but feel a subtle sense of unease as you felt his gaze on the small parts of your face that were left uncovered by the mask. There was an intensity to his gaze that felt almost disquieting, a mix of curiosity and observation, his eyes seemingly taking in every detail of your features.

The Voice's tone carried a blend of cheerfulness and authority, as it instructed the players on the imminent event.

"You will be playing Red Light, Green Light," the voice announced, a tone of gleeful anticipation evident in its words. The players, dressed in green, stood still, their expressions a mix of anticipation and tension, their eyes focused on the voice coming through the speakers.

The rules of the game were explained with a strange blend of innocence and coldness.

"You are allowed to move forward when 'it' shouts 'Green Light,' stop when 'it' shouts 'Red Light.' If your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated," the voice stated, its tone maintaining a mix of childlike playfulness and the harsh reality of the consequences they faced.

The voice continued, outlining the rules of the game with a matter-of-fact tone.

"Those players who cross the finish line without being eliminated within the five-minute playtime will pass this round," it explained. There was a pause, a dramatic moment of anticipation, before the voice concluded, "With that, let the game begin." As the words echoed in the air, the players braced themselves, the tension palpable.

The doll, with its childlike voice, issued the first command.

"Green light," it declared, its voice a mix of innocence and underlying menace. With those words, the game officially commenced. As the game began, a few players eagerly surged forward, attempting to make progress toward the finish line.

In an instant, the tension heightened as the voice announced, "Red light." The players, who had been moving forward, came to an abrupt stop, frozen in their tracks, their bodies gitty with anticipation.

You couldn't help but tense up at the sudden sound of a gunshot, the gunshot breaking the tense silence, causing your body to flinch involuntarily.

The voice, cold and unforgiving, announced the first casualty of the game. "Player 324. Eliminated."

The players, engrossed in the game, had yet to fully comprehend the true nature and danger of the situation. Despite the gunshot, most of them were still caught up in the excitement of the competition, their attention focused on the doll and the race to the finish line. The reality of the violence and life-or-death stakes hadn't fully sunk in for many participants.

As one player finally looked down at his dying friend, the reality and gravity of the situation became undeniable. Fear shot through their eyes, and realization dawned on their face. The cheerful facade shattered as they faced the brutal truth of the game's nature, a truth that left them shaken to the core. It was a moment of sobering clarity, the illusion of a simple game evaporating before their very eyes.

The chaos unfolded as panicked players rushed to the entrance doors, desperately trying to flee. However, their efforts were futile as one by one, they were shot by the hidden snipers in the walls.

The voice echoed through the loudspeakers once again, repeating the rules of the game with a chilling precision.

The remaining players, shaken and terrified, listened intently as the rules were reiterated, their hearts pounding in their chests.

"You are allowed to move forward when 'it' shouts 'Green Light' and stop when 'it' shouts 'Red Light.' If your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated," the voice stated, its tone cold and methodical.

Your father, visibly engrossed in the spectacle, couldn't contain his excitement. "Amazing first choice," he chuckled, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and enthusiasm. "We simply can't do it yet. We need more players on sight. But this is amazing!" His words showcased the twisted nature of the games and the satisfaction the game makers derived from the chaos and bloodshed.

Your father turned his gaze to you, seeking your opinion on the unfolding events. "What do you think, (y/n)?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his tone, as though he was eager to gauge your reaction to the unfolding spectacle.

Your words came out in a matter-of-fact tone, the practical aspect of the situation evident in your response.

"It's the best choice for the first game," you stated, a sense of realism lacing your words. "It gets rid of the mass amount of players and shows them the outcome if they don't listen. It's practical." Your father seemed pleased with your assessment, a subtle nod indicating his agreement and approval of your observation.

The Frontman, listening to your words, couldn't help but feel a sense of admiration for your practicality and realistic approach. He appreciated the way you had analyzed the situation and made a rational observation. In a world where brutal violence was the norm, your sensible view stood out, and he respected it quietly.

The game continued, the voice's cold instructions echoing through the field as players met their fate. Each round of "Red Light" brought a new wave of eliminations, the remaining players trembling in fear and uncertainty. The game was a deadly, ruthless spectacle, leaving the players in a state of constant tension and anxiety.

Your attention was drawn to the small figurine band that came to life, playing a gentle tune. As "Fly Me to the Moon" filled the room, you turned to the Frontman, a surprised smile gracing your face.

The Frontman's gesture took you by surprise, his action a mix of playfulness and unexpected charm amidst the cold, violent world of the games.

Despite the tense atmosphere, the Frontman's decision to play "Fly Me to the Moon" softened the mood slightly. As the song played, you crossed your legs, your voice carrying a slight tone of contentment.

"I like this song," you remarked, a small, appreciative smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

The Frontman's eyes flickered, his gaze briefly meeting yours, as he acknowledged your comment. There was a subtle sense of understanding in his gaze, a glimpse of a shared appreciation for the song that created a brief moment of connection between you two.

The moment of connection and shared appreciation between you and the Frontman provided a sliver of hope that this trip could indeed become more enjoyable than you had initially anticipated. The games were still unfolding, and the tension in the room lingered, but there was a hint of warmth in the air.

#hwang in ho x reader #hwang in ho #in ho x reader #squid game x reader #squid game #squid game fanfic #hwang in ho fanfic #in ho fanfic #player 001 #player 001 x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 29 days ago

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Outside the Lines 6

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsessive compulsive behaviour, kidnapping, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Reader has her routine and her fellow patient gets in the way of those.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, (lumberjack AU)

Note: I am tryn rotate through fics and such. Thanks for all your patience.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You put away the last of the dishes. The smell of bacon hangs in the air as your stomach mulches the few bites you managed to swallow. You're trying but it's very hard to get used to it all. Dr. Makira always says change is difficult.

Everything is just new and strange and confusing to you. Not just the walls you don't know but the men within them. You know that Steve is a hero and Bucky too, but you really don't know them.

"Hey, sweetheart," Steve startles you as he enters behind you. "Looks good in here. Good job cleaning up."

"Yes, sir, er, Captain," you correct yourself as you face him, looking down to keep between the borders.

"Bucky just went to go get that label maker so it'll be just me and you for a bit," he nears the island and leans his elbows on it. Even as he curls his shoulders forward, he seems inconquerably large. "Do you want to do something fun?"

"Fun? Oh, do you have books... Captain?" You tug on your ear three times and mouth the last word again.

"Um, maybe later I'll dig some out. I was thinking we could play a game."

"Play a game? Like, er, go fish?" You ask.

"Yeah, how about... battleship?"

"Battleship? I've never played that."

"No? I thought it was really popular," he says. "Guess we can learn together."

"Okay, I can do that, but uh... Captain? Don't I have other chores? Laundry?" You wonder.

"Later," he assures you as he comes around the counter. He offers his hand. "You earned some fun."

"Yes, Captain. I'm trying real hard, don't you know?"

"I know it, sweetheart. I see it." He takes your hand and tugs you across the tile. You teeter and squeal as you arch your feet and walk on your toes to keep from crossing the lines.

He brings you into the front room and points to the couch. You dutifully go ahead and sit in the middle. He goes to the standing cabinet at the wall and opens the doors. He takes out a box and nears. He sits beside you, close enough to touch you.

He lifts the lid off and reveals a cluster of small pegs; red and white. They're all mixed up. It makes you feel itchy. You reach and take a handful and start dividing them by colour. He doesn't stop you.

Instead, he takes out the boards and opens them like cases. There are grids marked with numbers and letters.

"Alright, so, we can't look at each others' boards," he grabs the instruction booklet and scatters the pegs. You continue to sort through them. "Sweetheart, are you listening?"

"Oh, yes, uh..." you keep your handful of pegs and pluck up a cushion, "I'll sit on the floor."

"You don't have to, we can move the chair."

"It's okay," you hurried circle the table and drop the cushion. You sit on your legs and keep sorting the pegs. You don't like that there mixed up.

"So, you put your ships on the board wherever you want. I do the same thing. And then we guess where the other put theirs," he explains. "The red, you use to mark hits on your ships and the white, you mark up on this," he points to the verticle board, "your hits and misses too. The white are misses."

"Hm, okay," you say as you keep the red and white pegs from rolling into each other.

"Here are your ships," he takes out a handful of the little plastic boats.

"Thank you, Captain."

"Good girl," he praises again and you look up at him over your board.

"Am I good?"

"Of course," he smiles.

You take the boats and line them up by size; smallest to biggest across the top row. That's nice and tidy. Steve takes longer to finish his.

He looks up with a pinch between his brows, "you ready?"

You nod.

"You first," he says.

"Me? What do I do?"

"Guess. So you can look at your board and guess where you think I put my ships. So like... E4, and if you hit, I'll tell you. You can put red if you do. If you hit every spot on a ship, then you sunk my battleship."

"Oh, right, right," you say. "Um, er..." you look on the board. "G2?"

He glances down, "miss."

You take a white peg and mark the space. He hums before he makes a guess.

"I9," he says.

"Miss," you chime then check the board, "hmmm, C4."

"Nope," he puts a peg in where he missed. The board looks tiny in his large hands. "B2?"

You shift and check the board, "hit." You pout and takes a red peg. "A8?"

"Miss," he replies. You mark it.

"B3?" He says.

"Hit. Erm, D2?"

"Miss. What about... B1?"

You blink. All your ships are together. Oops.

"Hit."

Your next guess is a miss too. Then he hits. He sinks the smallest ship with A1.

"Oh, I lost a boat," you say.

"It's not over until you lose them all," he says. "How about we add some extra fun?"

"Um, what?" You ask.

"We could make it more interested. How about, each time we sink a ship, we... give the other person a kiss."

You squeak, "what?"

"Yeah, it'll be nice," he goads.

"But... but..." you chew your lip as he stares at your mouth.

"Just a peck, sweetheart," he purrs.

"Mmm, but, mmm, I don't know."

"Come on," he pleads. "It's just a kiss."

"I... I..." you stare at him. It must be a part of the plan. You're not very good at being close to others. Touching is tough but you've been working to move past those things. "Okay."

"So... I sunk your ship," he taunts with a playful tilt of his head.

"Um, right," you push yourself up with the table. You reluctantly traipse around and wring your hands together.

He offers his cheek and taps it. You bend and hover just before it. You quickly peck, his beard tickling you, then retreat, ducking to hide behind the board.

"Oh, your lips are soft," he says.

"Thank you, Captain," your voice comes out in a whisper.

"Your go," he prompts.

"Oh, uh... E9."

"Hit," he says.

"Oh!" you grab a red peg.

"Good job," he returns and gives a thoughtful hum. "Mmmm, C3?"

You mutter, "hit."

"Alright," he comments with a hint of surprise. He probably didn't expect so many together. Did he figure it out?

"E10?"

"Miss. B3?"

You groan. He knows! You could move it. No, you wouldn't be able to do it without moving the whole board.

"You sunk another," you utter.

"Ooh, other cheek?" He wonders hopefully.

Your face is on fire. You stand up and go around the other side of the table. You stare at his flannel shirt. You can't bare to look him in the eye. You bend and plant another kiss, one he leans into until your lips smush on his cheek.

You recoil and once more resume your place on the cushion. He purrs again.

"You're go," he urges.

You guess randomly. You forget to check where you hit. It's another miss. You don't even want to sink his ships. The kissing is too much.

Several back and forths and a third ship goes down. You feel like crying. You didn't really think about the rules before you put the ships on the board. You're so stupid.

"Come here," Steve cooes.

You get up, slouching shyly as you approach. You bend to kiss his cheek but he surprises you as he turns and you meet his lips instead. His hand catches the back of your head before you can react.

He smothers you, locking you in place, and you push on his chest. You whine as his tongue slides over your lips. You don't like that.

He lets you go and you stumble back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"What's wrong?" He asks.

"Captain, I... I'm not used to it. I never... I'm sorry," you stop and sway on the other side of the table.

"Ah, sweetheart, of course, it's alright. The more you do it, the better it'll be." He coaxes.

"Oh, okay," you get back to your knees. "F9?"

"Shoot! You hit. Sink."

"Huh?" You flinch at the last word, "really?"

"Got the small one," he says as he gets up. "My turn to pay my dues."

"Oh, that's... that's-- You don't have to."

"Fair is fair," he reaches for you, latching onto your upper arm to force you up.

You stand knowing that resistance is not an option. Not only is he stronger, but you want to be good. You want to get better. That's all you've ever wanted.

He guides you to face him and you tremble. It's much more intimidating like this. He cups your chin as he gazes down at you. You gulp.

He bends and your body goes rigid. He tilts your head and presses his mouth to yours. The tip of his tongue flicks along the crease of your lips but he doesn't persist. He parts with a pleased drone.

"See, we both win," he says.

You pull away and sit. Your scalp is on fire. You don't know how much more you can handle. Dr. Makira always said change shouldn't come all at once.

He clears his throat and sits again. He grins over his board before he refocuses. He rubs his chin as his thinks. His blue irises glimmer.

"D1."

Yep. You figured.

"Hit."

It isn't difficult for him to go down the ship. Hit. Hit. Hit.

He wins again.

"Steve-- Captain," you say as fidget. "I don't think-- I can't."

"Aw, sweetheart, you already did it. You're so good."

"But... er, I'm... I don't know."

"Here," he waves you up and shifts over on the couch.

You flick your lashes and stand. You go to him as he extends his arms. He puts his hands on your hips and draws you between his knees.

"I just think you need to slow down. You're not taking your time," he says. "So, just go at your own pace," he brings his hands up to frame your face, pushing your hair back, rubbing your cheekbones with his thumbs. "Alright, I'm yours, sweetheart."

He closes his eyes and puckers expectantly. You stare back. He's being nice, you think. He's not angry. He hasn't hurt you. You'd like to keep it that way.

You gather your courage and lean in. You put your hands on his shoulders and close your eyes just before your lips meet. His beard tickles you again as his hands stretch around your head.

He holds his lips to yours and gently opens his mouth. He pokes with his tongue and you twitch. He keeps you in place. You surrender to his diligent effort and let him in.

He tilts his head as he invades your mouth. You garble around him and clutch the seam of his shirt. You feel his muscles beneath. He's stronger than you, remember that.

When he finally pulls away, you're woozy. He lets his hand fall down your neck and he feels along the top of your dress. As his speaks, his voice scrapes in his throat.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" He asks.

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark bucky barnes #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel #outside the lines #mcu #avengers #captain america #winter soldier #series #fic #dark fic #dark!fic

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wow-thisismylifeiguess · 2 months ago

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meeting ghost-maker pt 2

Jason

Jason sits on his bed whilst Dick paces back and forth. He stops, points at a whiteboard he’d rolled into Jason’s room with a crude drawing of…something that looks like a bug? Jason’s not really sure.

“And that’s why, if we ever see this man, we cannot let him near Bruce!”

If Jason’s being honest, he was kind of zoning out through most of this…presentation?

“Why?”

Dick glares at him.

“I just spent the last 30 minutes telling you why!”

“TLDR. Listen, Dick, it’s been a long day.” Jason’s exhausted and he’s on the verge of falling asleep any moment.

Before Dick can complain any more, there’s a knock on Jason’s door. It’s a familiar rhythm, recognizable. Jason and Dick both know it’s Bruce, and Jason calls out to let him in before Dick can convince him to wait.

“Sorry to interrupt, boys. I was just-“ Bruce stops and looks at Dick’s white board presentation. “Is that Ghost?”

Jason isn’t expecting Bruce to laugh, although he’s not mad about it. His dad doesn’t laugh often, but when he does, it’s always a bright and pretty sound.

“Don’t laugh!” Dick had clearly not been expecting that reaction either, and unlike Jason, he’s a lot less pleased. “I’m warning Jason!”

“About what?”

“The bas- the weirdo who flirts with you whenever he’s in Gotham!” It’s a little funny, heading Dick try and censor himself when Jason’s said and says much worse things than his older brother. But Jason’s less focused on that. Instead, he’s finally actually listening to Dick, and his eyes widen.

“What?”

Bruce covers his face and sighs. “It’s not like that. Dick just had a bad experience w Ghost-Maker and he’s made it his mission in life to make sure he never steps foot in Gotham again.”

Dick makes an error noise. “Nope! Wrong! My life’s mission is to make sure he never gets close to you again. I mean, come on, Bruce. You could do so much better!”

Jason silently contemplates this conversation. And then he asks, “What kinda fuckin name is Ghost-Maker?”

While Bruce sighs again, Dick lectures his brother about how that’s the least of their concerns.

—

When Jason meets Ghost-Maker himself…yup. Dick was right (he’ll never admit that to his face). The man fucking sucks.

“Oh. A new one?”

Ghost-Maker’s got his arm over Bruce’s shoulder, touching him so casually, and it makes Jason want to kick him in the groin. That’s his fucking dad, thank you very much. No one’s allowed to be that touchy w him.

“Ghost, this is-“

“Robin.”

“None of your fucking business.”

Ghost-Maker laughs, and the desire to kick him grows.

“Feisty. He’s more angry than the other one.”

Bruce frowns. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Robin is Robin.”

“Tough shit trying to sell that lie to me, B. And besides, you were introducing him as if we’d never met before, which means we haven’t. Plus, he’s…small. So unless you’re not feeding your underage crime fighting partner, he’s a different kid.”

Jason’s mouth hangs open. He just…he called Bruce B! He can’t do that! Only Dick and him can! That’s their nickname for him!

Bruce catches Jason before he can throw himself at Ghost-Maker. Doesn’t stop the little Robin from trying to claw at the man. Bruce is unfortunately very hard to escape from. Fuck it, Jason will get him one day.

Dick Tim Red Hood Damian Epilogue

#part two of this madness #khoa's a fucking bitch and I love he #bruce wayne #jason todd #minhkhoa khan #ghostbat #batman #my post

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thebestofoneshots · 1 year ago

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

✩₊˚.⋆⁺₊✧ Merry Christmas everyone ✩₊˚.⋆⁺₊✧

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reade rWord Count: 7 K Warnings: None. Prompt: Where does your hear lay? Who does it belong to? This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Chapter 26: Hooked on a feeling

Thursday, November 25th, 1976

As you walked back to the common room with your friends, Sirius didn’t let go of your hand at all. Remus, who had been the one with the idea, stood rather close to the two of you, and the rest also kept a close eye on you. Especially Peter who seemed to have been altered by the whole situation.

By the time you’d got to the common room you were a lot more relaxed, there was something about walking with your friends that just made you feel instantly better, even if you weren’t saying much. You easily realised how fast Remus had driven the subject of the conversation to something else, being backed up by Sirius who didn’t shut up about the new songs he’d gotten from his cousin Andromeda, it all had helped you order your thoughts better.

Yes, you hadn’t been paying attention to the strength of your spell, and yes, it had been quite strong, enough to push Evan back a couple of metres but not enough to really hurt him, it had probably stung like a bitch, but looking at things from a different perspective, he might have been more pissed because he lost, and because you had helped turn off the fire with your relashio, than he had been hurt by your spell. In fact, even if Seraphina had practically dragged him out of the classroom, he had been walking when he left.

And then you remembered the way he had laughed at your attempts to open the door of the shack and you almost thought he actually deserved it, even if your intention had never been to actually hurt him. And then you remembered Barty, and you knew he’d be absolutely pissed at you which had you shiver and inch just a little closer to Sirius.

He gave you a rather puzzled look, wondering what could have been going on in your mind before squeezing your hand comfortingly.

Eventually, you all ended up in the common room, Remus pulled out the food from his backpack and handed it over to you. They had picked sandwiches, sausages, bacon and a lot of other tasty, meaty treats. You almost laughed, they had noticed that you had been craving meat, and they had gone and picked probably every single thing with it on the meal.

When the girls had gone off to the library together, James, who had been sitting on the rug as he snuck some of the treats from your plate when he thought you weren’t looking, leaned in to ask “How did it go with Ricchie?”

You looked around for a second, making sure there was no one listening in, and responded “he’s on board, he said it’d be hard to convince the headless hunt.”

James smiled “knew you could convince him,” he said as he pulled back “You’re damn good at that.”

“I guess I am,” you smiled. quite pleased with yourself, “Does that mean I’m playing on Sunday?”

James laughed as he shook his head in disbelief “Don’t push your luck Vixi, you might be charming, but it depends on how you know what is looking by then.”

You huffed in response, and let yourself lean back in between Sirius and Remus as you took another sausage and started to munch on it “When will you go get the recipes?” You asked, turning to Remus.

“After dinner,” he said, “you think your talk with Nightshade will be done by then?”

You took a deep breath “I certainly hope it will… Oh, by the way, I found the perfect place to brew the potion…”

“Really, where?” Sirius asked casually.

“There’s a secret room near the Prefect Bathrooms, Richie showed me,” you started “It’s very small, kinda like a map room, with lots of forbidden books hidden in there, I assume Richie was as much of a trouble maker as you lot when he was alive…”

“Kinda like a map room?” he asked again, you had piqued his curiosity.

“You lot?! As if you weren’t included…” mumbled James.

You threw him a wink and turned back to Sirius “Well, it’s got a massive table in the centre, perfect for maps or large parchments and things like that,” you explained, “but I also saw a few potion things on the corner, I mean of course there’s no sink or anything like that, but I’m sure we can make do with what we have, it’s perfect! Completely away from prying eyes too. And you know people barely even cross that hallway anyway…”

“Well I guess you’ll show me your secret room and I’ll show you our secret map,” Remus said with a shrug.

“We’re showing her the map?” Peter asked.

James nodded “Indeed we are little Wormtail, it was an executive decision since she’s now an Honourable Marauder.”

“Wait! Really?” you asked, with a small gasp.

Sirius nodded, wrapping his arm over your shoulder, leaving his hand near your neck so as not to touch your wounded arm and smiled at you “You didn’t know?” he tsked.

You shook your head, “but it’s only natural, isn’t it? You know my secret now,” Remus said calmly.

“Lily does too,” you replied “And she’s not a-“

“And then there’s Vixen,” Peter said matter of factly, cutting you off mid-sentence.

“Aaaaand you’re going to do your first official Marauders Prank tomorrow,” Sirius finished.

“But… this- this feels like… It’s like being knighted or something…”

That got a chuckle from every single one of the boys, James stood up then, taking his wand in his hand, you looked at him puzzled when he extended his arm with his hand and placed it over your shoulder “Lady Vixen…” he started.

“What? Prongs you’re insane!”

“Shut up,” he said simply, and cleared his throat “Lady Vixen,” he repeated the same actions as before “I hereby declare you an honourable member of The Marauders,” he finished.

“As an official member, I ratify the decree,” Remus added.

“I ratify it a second time,” Peter added.

Sirius looked at you with a teasing smile “I don’t know about that…” he started but laughed mid-sentence when he saw the stares from all of his friends “All right… All right… I ratify the decree a third time, Kit’s one of us now.”

James smiled “Settled then, you can now know about the map.”

“Which map?” You asked, curiosity taking the best of you.

“Not yet,” Remus said “She’ll see it in due time.”

“Oh! You’re such a tease!” you said, leaning back in between Remus and Sirius again, crossing your arms over each other with a small pout, which just got Remus to chuckle, you looked way too adorable.

Then the clock chimed in “Dinner time,” Peter said with a smile.

James stood up “Sounds brilliant, I’m famished.”

“You’ve been eating my food since we got here,” you teased. He looked at you in shock, as if he was surprised he hadn’t been as sneaky as he thought he had been. The rest of the boys just laughed.

“No, I haven’t.” James said casually “must have imagined it.”

You just laughed at the seriousness he used to say it “So you’re saying I hallucinated it?”

James nodded “Indeed you have, perhaps we really should take you to Pomfrey.”

“All right Prongs, whatever you say,” you responded.

You separated from the boys when Marlene waved at you to sit right next to her, she wanted to ask you about learning to use confringo, and you spent the rest of the dinner discussing some advanced duelling spells with her, Beth, Lily and Mary had joined in the conversation a little later on and you discovered you all knew some spells the others didn’t.

“We should study them together,” Beth said “Find a quiet place and practice so we become better duelists.” Beth had joined the duelling club a couple of weeks before you had.

“I’d tag along with you girls,” Mary quipped “It’s always useful to know a thing or two about defending yourself, could help me brush up on my curses and hexes for next year’s N.E.W.T.S.”

“It’s a fantastic idea indeed,” Lily said “I say we do it.”

“Really?” You asked her a little surprised.

“Yeah, we could make our own little duelling club,” she said “Seems useful for the times we’re living in.”

Mary’s face turned a little sour. “I’d rather not talk about the times we’re living in.”

You were about to say something else when you felt a hand on your shoulder, you looked up and swallowed, it was Professor Nightshade, “Have you finished your meal?” she asked politely. You nodded in response. “Good, please follow me to my office.”

Lily gave you a worried look but you gave her a smile in return, whatever punishment she was going to give you, it couldn’t be too bad. “I’ll just take something for the way,” you told her, stood up and walked towards the boys, leaning in to grab an apple from the bowl right next to Remus “Where are we regrouping?" you whispered.

"Give me your hand," he said.

You turned to look at Nightshade, she was tapping her feet as she stood near the girls and looked, you swallowed, but instantly did as asked. Remus took your hand and placed a small, crescent moon bead that he took from his pocket, allowing his fingers to linger on your palm for a little too long before he spoke again.

"Keep it with you, we’ll find you."

You frowned, giving him a puzzled look, but turned back at Nightshade who looked like she was losing her temper and you nodded, Remus heard you say something like "Sorry Professor, I was looking for the right one," as you approached her with what he assumed was another one of those charming apologetic smiles of yours.

"You gave her your charm," Sirius said as he saw you go.

"So we can find her after the library," Remus responded, turning back to the other boy, "you ready?"

Sirius smirked "I’m always ready, Moons. But we need to get the cloak first."

"And the map," the other boy added. “Prongs and Wormtail will be working on the escape plan all night, you’ll join them and practise the spells afterwards, right?"

Sirius nodded in return, “You’ll stay with Vixen and prepare the potion,” he then hesitated for a second “Ask her if she’s all right for me?” Remus gave Sirius a frown, and the blue-eyed boy took a deep breath, “She’s always at ease when you’re around, and for some reason, I feel like she would tell you if–”

Remus shook his head “–She wouldn’t.”

“No, but I’m sure, you even told me about that time after practice that-“

“–Pads.” Remus said calmly “She’s not going to tell me shit, not this time.”

“But–“

“-It’s because it was me,” the taller boy explained. “She won’t say shit because I was the one to scratch her, I’m the reason she’s hurt.”

“That’s not fair,” Sirius countered, “You didn’t mean to, she knows it.”

“And that’s exactly why she wouldn’t tell me if she was off,” Remus sighed “She doesn’t want me to feel bad about it, and I don’t want to make her uncomfortable by making her lie.” Yeah, Remus knew what it was like to lie to his friends about the way he was feeling, he knew what it was like to feel the need to do it as if not to worry them, he didn’t want you to go through that, especially since he had been the one to hurt you in the first place.

Sirius sighed, leaning against the table, holding his head up with his hands, his beautiful curls cascading around his face and spilling between his fingers. Remus stared, almost enthralled by the beauty of his friend before speaking again.

“She knew, you know?” he said suddenly.

“She knew what?” Sirius asked, pulling his head up to look at Remus straight in the eyes.

“She knew I was a werewolf,” the boy admitted. “When she arrived at the Shack and cranked the door open, she was relieved to see me for a whole of like 60 seconds before she realised how screwed she was.”

“But how?!” the blue-eyed boy asked, confused.

“At first I thought it had been you–“ Remus admitted.

“I would never!”

“I know,” Remus agreed “But you can’t blame me for thinking it a possibility, especially with how close you are to each other.”

“But you should know I would never, especially after the-“

“–I know.” Remus cut him off, a little sharper now, he did not want to talk about the prank.

“Then how did she find out?”

“She guessed it,” Remus said with a tight lip smile, surprise and unbelievability spilling from his voice. Had Sirius not been paying attention to how attractive his friend looked with that smile on his face perhaps he would have realised the way Remus had said it sounded an awful lot like someone who had a crush “She said it was in the infirmary, last full moon.”

Sirius almost winced “After the ring incident…”

“I highly doubt it was just the ring incident,” Remus reassured, “Anyway, my point is… she knew, and she didn’t tell anyone about it. She didn’t ask me, she didn’t ask you. All because she didn’t want to put us in an awkward position.”

Sirius sighed, slumping his shoulders as he did “She’s a considerate idiot.”

Remus laughed and nodded. After a couple of seconds of silence, he tilted his head just a little, effectively getting Sirius’ attention back on him. As much as he hated to admit it, he loved it when Sirius looked at him like that. “Let’s get the cloak then…” he said with a mischievous smile.

“Let’s get the cloak,” Sirius responded with an equally mischievous grin.

You had been the one to enter her office first, Nightshade trailing behind just to shut the door as she entered the room and walked towards her chair. She must have been just as tall as you, regardless, she carried herself in a way that made you feel smaller, almost intimidated, perhaps it had to do with how beautiful she was. You remember feeling like the time you met Walburga a couple of years ago, Nightshade had the same imposing aura, except she carried a hint of peacefulness to her, rather than the unhinged chaos that hid behind Walburga’s eyes.

You swallowed as she continued walking all the way to her desk, she didn’t walk behind it though, she instead leaned back on it, elegance unmatched, “Miss (Y/LN).”

You didn’t say a word, instead, you nodded in acknowledgement, letting her know you were listening even if your voice refused to come out.

“You must know why I brought you here.”

“Because I used a very strong, downright almost-illegal hex on Evan Rosier.”

She laughed, a graceful laugh that you were not expecting to hear “That’s not why you’re here.”

“I’m sorry?! I thought you would– I thought I was here because… if it’s not that, then why?”

“Take a guess,” she said with a playful smile. You weren’t sure if you were intimidated by it or not.

“Because of the classes I missed? I’m sorry about that, it was really something unexpected and I–“

“That’s not it either.”

“Then I– I don’t understand–“

“How’s your shoulder?” She asked casually.

“It’s a lot better,” you said before you turned to look at her in shock. “How did you…”

“You’re not the only one that’s friends with the ghosts darling,” she said. “Come over, let me check it.”

You did as told, unbuttoning your blouse for her to inspect your wound “Is that why I’m here?” you asked as she carefully unrolled the bandage.

“Damocles Belby came to me on Tuesday, knocking on the door very early in the morning,” she started, “he said you had gone to the forbidden forest to get an ingredient for a potion, and that you hadn’t returned when you told him you would,” you winced as her hand graced over one of the injured sections “he told me what he wanted and why he wanted it for. I knew in an instant either Remus had told you about his condition or that you had guessed yourself.”

“You know about–“

“Of course I do. I’m the teacher of Defence Against the Dark Arts. I was informed the moment I got here.”

“And Dumbledore just told you?!” you scoffed, sounding a little more offended and angry than you intended.

She chuckled in return, “We go way back,” she said with a small smile “Either way, when you didn’t get to class I started to worry,” she continued “But I went over to check on Remus on the infirmary and he was calm enough, I knew he hadn’t hurt you, or at least that he hadn’t hurt you lethaIIy.”

“If you knew I was hurt, then why did you put me in a duel against Evan?”

“I didn’t think either of you would go as hard as you did on each other,” she admitted “and I wanted to know if you really were hurt.”

“Is that why you placed your hand over my shoulder and helped me up?”

“You almost had me fooled,” she admitted “I would have bought your act had it not been for the reactions of your friends.”

A small smile played on your lips, you were proud.

“You’re a strong one Miss (Y/LN),” she said as she inspected the wound “Whoever did the healing, is incredible at it,” she said casually “I’ve never seen a werewolf infringed wound looking so good after such little time.”

You didn’t say a word which just got another small smile from her. She liked that you wouldn’t speak, it showed your strength of character and stubbornness.

“Fine then, do not tell me,” she added as she started wrapping the bandage again “You know it will scar, right?”

“Yes…” you responded.

“And you don’t care?” she pressed.

You turned to her, holding her stare as you clenched your jaw, what kind of question is that?, you thought. “I don’t,” you said simply, “If it had been anyone else perhaps I–“You stopped yourself from talking, she did not need to hear your inner monologue. “Why am I here?” you asked as you pulled back and started buttoning your blouse back up.

“Because I wanted to know something…”

“And that is?”

“Tell me, do you believe in bIood purity?”

“That’s a bunch of bullshit,” you said simply.

She didn’t react, her face plain “Bold of you to say, when you come from a pure-bIood family.”

“It’s because I come from one that I know it’s bullshit, I know wizards twice as good as me that are not purebloods.”

She hummed, “I don’t think many wizards can be twice as good as you.”

“You can think whatever you like,” you spat, you had always liked Professor Nightshade, admired her even, but you didn’t like the way she was speaking right now, it made you wary.

“I like your bite,” she informed. “You could be really useful, you know...”

“For who?”

She smiled at the way you had asked, so forward “I can teach you,” She said, “Personal classes, one-on-one, I can make you the best duelist to ever walk out of this school…”

“And at what cost?”

“You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”

“I have places to be, things to do, friends to see, don’t you?”

She laughed, diverted at how serious you were being “Dumbledore.” You blinked a couple of times after she spoke. “You’d be working for Dumbledore.”

You looked at her, pupils moving fast as you thought about what she said “You’re not recruiting me for my talent,” you said then “you want me for my name, for my father’s contacts.”

“Nothing slips past you, does it?” she said with a smile “but I wouldn’t be talking to you if you weren’t talented.”

You squared your shoulders but didn’t say a thing.

“So… What do you say?”

Remus and Sirius had gotten the cloak and were already halfway through the passageways that would lead them to the library. Once they were about to get into the hallway, Sirius pulled the cloak from his backpack and handed it over to Remus, who, since he was the taller of the two, was almost always the one to accommodate it.

Back when they were smaller it was way easier to get inside the cloak, in fact, the four boys would do it often, and they had no issues fitting in and still being completely invisible. The last time they tried to do it, no matter how close they stood to each other, someone’s shoes ended up being visible. That’s why they resorted to going two at a time, knowing full well that three was their max.

Remus took the cloak and unfolded it in a swift motion, wrapping it around Sirius and himself in a movement that he had done so many times before that it made him look as elegant as a professional muggle magician wrapping his beautiful assistant for a trick.

Sirius looked up at him with a teasing smile as he finished adjusting the cloak, “Let’s go then.”

The two boys walked outside of the hole in the wall and walked alongside each other with practice ease. Remus was awful close to Sirius under the cloak, it was one of the reasons he’d almost always volunteer to go when he did, even if he was feeling off, hanging out with the boy always made him feel better. Either because of the jokes he’d cracked or because of the sheer excitement of just being close to him.

Sirius heard a sound and stopped abruptly, placing a hand over his mouth to silently indicate to him to keep quiet. Remus, who was not expecting the sudden movement, collided with him, his nose almost crashing into Sirius’ head. He got a whiff of his scent, the one of pine trees, musk and a tinge of leather that you loved so much and he had to shut his eyes close to try and regain his stance. Sirius had no clue the effect he had on people. Or perhaps he did know the effect he had on people, since he often used it to his advantage, he just didn’t know the effect he had on Remus. After a second, the boy nodded and the two continued walking, once they had successfully gotten into the restricted section of the library, Remus took the cloak off the two of them.

Sirius leaned closer, placing his hand on Remus’ shoulder to prompt his friend to bend down, when Remus obliged, he tilted his head towards the boy, his long locks brushing against Remus’ shoulder and cheeks. And while Remus was used to this, Sirius was touchy, he’d always been, and he probably always would be, it didn’t stop the shiver that went down his spine when Sirius finally whispered in his ear “Let’s split, I’ll find the potions book, you find the charms one.”

When Sirius finally pulled back, his hand still on Remus’ shoulder, the boy nodded “Keep the cloak,” he suggested “My disillusionment charm is better.”

Sirius arched his eyebrows, diverted. “You should see Vixen’s, she was never spoiled with James’ invisibility cloak like you and I.”

“Bet hers is even better,” Remus said and gave Sirius a wink before casting the spell and becoming almost imperceptible to Sirius. He blinked a few times, staring at nothing for a couple of seconds before he turned around to look for the book. But as he did, he couldn’t help but replay Remus’ wink and smile in his head, he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen that expression on his friend’s face. Or perhaps he had seen it, he’d just never observed it properly. And it had certainly never lingered in his head like it had that day.

But he shook those weird thoughts off and went straight to look for the book, using his wand to light the names of the tomes as he looked through the different potion books available. He skipped through Potionology: Crafting Magic in a Bottle and Secrets of the Cauldron. There had to be something wrong with the way the books in the section were ordered since none of them followed the standard alphabetical order arrangements normal bookshelves had.

He considered using Accio to get the book he was looking for, but it hadn’t worked last time, and most of the restricted section books had anti-summoning charms since they had to be kept away from most students’ hands. So he instead kept looking, making his lumus just a little more powerful so he could see a bit more of the books at the same time.

Remus was on the far left corner of the room, looking through the charm books to try and find the right one when he heard a noise coming from the other side of the library. It had been faint, so faint that he wouldn’t have noticed it, had it not been because of his acute hearing. Sometimes being a monster came with its perks.

He knew the sound was far away, so far that it wouldn’t be a problem for either of them if it didn’t get closer, so he kept his ears perked as he continued to look for the book. It didn’t take him much, since he knew exactly what he had been looking for. In fact, they had borrowed that same book a couple of times before, and it had a rather distinctive bright red cover, with shiny black details, it was almost impossible to miss. He took it out from its spot on the bookshelf, being careful not to make as much noise as he did, and then he placed it in his bag.

But that’s when he heard it, the sound from earlier had been steps. Steps that were approaching them pretty damn fast. Remus looked around, trying to find Sirius, and the boy was still looking for the book with his wand brightly lit, completely unaware of the sounds that were so clearly drumming in Remus’ ears. “Fuck,” he whispered as he started speed walking towards his friend.

Thud, thud, thud, the steps echoed ominously, growing closer and faster with each passing moment. Remus increased his peace, trying to get to Sirius before whoever was stepping closer to them did.

Remus looked around, trying to find him, and he was still looking for the book with his wand brightly lit, completely unaware of the approaching danger. Thud, thud, THUD, it was getting closer, so close Remus had to improvise.

He grabbed the cloak and repeated the same motion he had done earlier, wrapping it around the two of them in a second, but not measuring his strength, he ended up pressing Sirius against the bookshelf, the boy was about to protest, but Remus heard the steps getting even closer, so he placed one hand on Sirius’ mouth and the other one, he wrapped around the light still coming from the boy’s wand.

Sirius was shocked at first. It’s not that it was weird for Remus to stand so close to him, in fact, the line of personal space had been rather blurry between them for the longest time –especially with how handsy Sirius was all the time– but this was different. The way Remus was pressing onto him reminded him an awful lot of the way he pressed himself onto you sometimes. Sirius almost panicked, breath hitched in his throat when he turned his icy blue eyes to Moony’s face.

He was towering above him, breath steady as he looked to the side, head slightly tilted as he listened on. The footsteps were finally becoming audible for Sirius as well, but even if he was hearing them, he wasn’t quite registering them, he was too busy staring at Remus. He swallowed, focusing his eyes on Remus’s lips for a second before turning back to his eyes, feeling panic at the thoughts surging through his head.

For the first time in a while, Sirius was completely frozen in place, not knowing exactly what to do in a situation like this. He wondered if Prongs had been the one doing the same thing, what would’ve been his reaction. How different would it have been from the reaction he’d given Wormtail? What if it was you?

Remus, who had been focusing on the steps rather than on the way he had trapped Sirius between his arms, seemed to finally understand the position he had placed his friend in. But even if he could feel most of Sirius’s chest against his own, and how their legs were almost intertwined with each other, he had to focus on the situation at hand. Luckily Remus was resourceful enough to be able to focus on one thing at a time, and right at that moment, the approaching steps seemed to be a priority.

The sound was so close now, even Sirius managed to free himself from the trance and turned his eyes to the creak of the metal door being opened. It was Professor Spellman, Remus realised. The man strolled in casually and started looking through the shelves with the light of a small kerosene lantern.

When he got closer to the place where both boys stood, Remus pressed himself a little closer to Sirius, their heads so close Sirius could feel Monny’s breath on his ear. He could also feel the soft rise and fall of his friend’s chest against his own. For some reason the image of Remus’ pirate costume came to his mind, how both you and him had tried to fix his collar when Remus stepped away and took some distance. Remus certainly didn’t seem to care about the closeness now.

Remus could feel Sirius’ curls tickling his cheeks, and he could also feel the way Sirius’ breath had caught in his throat. He could sense out the scent of his shampoo, and he also smelled a little of you. No, your smell was all over Sirius just like Sirius’ smell was almost always all over you. It was an absolutely intoxicating mix, downright bewitching. So much so that he almost leaned closer to bury his head on Sirius’ neck when he realised what he was doing and leaned to the side instead, pretending like he was just looking at Spellman.

Sirius eventually let go of the initial shock, and even if his heart was pounding against his chest, he managed to maintain a slow, regular breathing pattern, as if not to call the attention of Spellman. He had practice already, he’d been in one too many dangerous and exciting situations, being just about to get caught wasn’t foreign to him. What was foreign, is how weird being so close to Remus made him feel.

Which is why he did the only thing he knew worked in situations like that, and he decided to make a joke of his feelings and thoughts instead of dealing with them. He vividly remembered his own reaction to you doing this to him, he wanted to see if Remus would keep his composure if he did the exact same thing.

Sirius Black might give me a heart attack, Remus thought as he felt the way the blue-eyed boy shifted around. And then, all of a sudden, he felt it; wet and sticky, did he just fucking lick my hand? Remus wondered. But decided he might have imagined it. Except he felt it a second time around. He frowned, turning around to see if Spellman was still close, when he realised he was just far enough, he tightened his grip around the boy’s mouth “Sirius. Behave!” Remus berated in a low demanding voice.

Not Pads, not Siri, but Sirius, your boyfriend realised as his breath hitched in his throat yet again. The way Remus Lupin had said that straight up sent a shiver down his spine. He gulped and obediently shut his mouth.

Remus, on the other hand, was really trying to maintain his steady breath. Even, as he felt his heart hammering against his chest. It was so loud to him, he wondered if Spellman could hear it because Sirius had to be hearing it. At least he could chuck it to the brink of almost being caught. Eventually, the professor grabbed a book and walked outside.

When the thumps of his footsteps sounded far enough, he finally pulled his hand from Sirius’ mouth, looking at the boy straight in the eye as he continued breathing heavily. He pulled back as well, finally letting the space normal friends would keep when hanging around each other. Sirius almost missed the closeness, no he did miss the closeness, which was even worse.

“You got the book?” Remus asked before either of them could say something weird. Sirius shook his head and the two of them started to look for the book. Both still under the cloak, both still so dangerously close to each other that, had any of the two wanted, they would have been able to bask in each other’s warmth. But both kept their distanc, both too scared of what the other might have been thinking.

“It’s here,” Sirius said as he pulled the book from the shelf “The Alchemist’s Grimoire, right?”

Remus nodded, “Let’s get out of here.”

You were walking back to the common room when you felt someone’s hand on your arm, yanking you towards their chest. You didn’t have to even look to know it had been Sirius. His cologne filling your nostrils the moment you were wrapped inside the cloak, “So you did find me,” you said turning to Remus, who was also under the cloak, he was placing a piece of parchment behind him, tucking it in between his pants and sweater.

“How was the talk? You’ve got detention?” Sirius asked, moving you to stand right in between the two of them. You felt a little squeezed and thought it was weird since normally Sirius would just stand behind you, but shrugged it off.

“No,” you said “She actually wanted to train me,” you explained “She said I could make a fine duelist.”

“She’s not wrong,” Remus said simply. You turned to him with eyebrows raised “What? We all saw the way you quashed Evan.”

“That wasn’t… never mind, how was your incursion in the library?” you asked, drifting the subject away. Both boys tensed up, you probably wouldn’t have noticed, but you were quite literally pressed in between the two “That bad?”

“Spellman,” Remus said, “He walked inside while we were still looking, we had to stay very still under the cloak for a long while.”

“Oh, must have been fun,” you joked with a teasing smile, but neither of them reacted, which had you side-eye the two with a bit of a frown.

“You bet,” Remus responded after a rather long silence. You frowned, something was definitely off between the two. Did they fight? And if they did, over what? you thought, even if “fight�� wasn’t exactly the vibe you were getting.

The three of you continued walking for a while, “this is my stop,” Sirius said suddenly, the three of you stopped walking, and Sirius placed his hand on your shoulder to guide you closer to the entrance of the passageway he’d take back to the dorms.

“This is for you,” Remus said as he pulled out the charms book from his shoulder bag, Sirius took it and gave him the other book in return. You observed their interactions with squinted eyes, they were both a little stiff, robotic. Especially Sirius, actually, it might have just been Sirius, Remus did look a little fazed but he always did after the full moon, and it had barely been a couple of days since the incident either way.

“Mind if I steal her for a minute?” Sirius said as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you inside the passage along with him. You gave Remus a questioning look and he just shrugged, allowing Sirius to basically pull you all the way to the other side, letting the tapesry to fall back into place, giving you both just enough privacy.

You managed to barely give Sirius a look before he had you pinned against the cold stone wall and leaned into you. You didn’t even have a chance to gasp before he swallowed the sound by clashing his mouth into yours. Sirius hadn’t kissed you that hungrily since, perhaps a couple of days ago when you were still craving meat above anything else, but even back then, it had been you the one that had started the kiss. The one time he had kissed you, remotely like that, had perhaps been at the Halloween Party…

You knew something was up, but you couldn’t help but melt into the kiss either way, perhaps he was just too stressed after almost being caught and he wanted a way to find release. And no, using you as a relief of stress was not at all making you feel bad, in fact, you kind of enjoyed being able to help him, to anchor him.

Sirius pushed even closer to you, sliding his knee in between your legs as he placed both hands on your face, angling it however he pleased, you let him, in fact, you enjoyed it. The way he kissed you made you feel giddy and excited and almost weak on the knees. You wrapped your hands around his neck, using him as support as you brushed your fingers on the nape of his neck. He responded by pressing his hips to you, probably involuntarily, but you had noticed he absolutely loved it when you placed your fingers there, under his beautiful black locks, so you did it when you wanted a reaction from him.

He accidentally brushed your wounded shoulder, and you winced, “Sorry,” he mumbled, separating from your mouth for just enough to be able to say the words and going straight back to kissing you, letting his hands wrap around your waist instead. You didn’t realise until much later that Sirius had not once, in the many times he kissed you after you got hurt, been so careless with his kisses, so needy.

But you didn’t care, you couldn’t care, really. Not with the way he had you pressed against the stone wall, not with the way he had his lips moving around yours in such a demanding way, not with the way he smelled. And boy, did he smell fucking delicious that day. It was his normal cologne, the smell of musk and leather, but there was something else in the mix too, something you couldn’t quite place. Or perhaps it was something that your brain just didn’t want to place, since it was Remus. What you were smelling, the one thing that was different had been there just because of the way Moony had pressed Sirius against the wall. But you didn’t know, and there was no way you realised either way. Not with the way Sirius’s kiss made your mind foggy.

When he finally broke the kiss, the two of you were panting, and he started placing soft, butterfly kisses all over your face. He looked at you with a lovesick smile “You’re stunning, you know that?” he asked.

You blushed, as if it was possible to blush even more than you already had, but you somehow managed to sober up from the kiss and placed your hand on his cheek, he keened to the touch, still with a smile as he looked at you with those beautiful icy-blue eyes of his, shining brightly in the dark room “Are you okay Puppy?” you asked, a small smile forming in your face.

Sirius’ smile faltered for only a second, as if he had remembered something and he nodded “More than perfect,” he smirked, “especially after that kiss.” His tone had changed, he was flirting, he was distracting you.

You averted your gaze, sometimes you were weaker to his advances, sometimes his flirting affected you a lot more than normally, even if you should’ve already gotten used to it. But there was something still bothering you in the back of your head and you turned back to look at him, “Are you sure?”

Sirius smiled at your concern, but also because whatever had him feeling so off minutes earlier, was gone, you were there, and he wanted to kiss you, not Moony, but you. So whatever that had been, must have been a spur-of-the-moment thing, he was utterly and irrevocably in love with you, which meant there was no way he liked Remus. Because you couldn’t like two people at the same time, that was impossible… right?

“Absolutely,” he said, placing another one of those quick wet kisses, this time to your lips, “Moony’s waiting outside for you luv, aren’t you planning to go?”

You tilted your head, a small scoff slipping from your lips “You’re the one that cornered me in the dark hallway Puppy.”

He hummed as he tilted his head “You want another kiss don’t you, little Kit?” he teased after hearing the nickname.

You shrugged, ignoring the pain from your shoulder and leaned in to whisper in his ear “Maybe later lover boy, we’ve got work to do,” you said in what you hoped was a seductive tone before leaning in and placing a soft kiss in his mouth. Seconds after you disappeared through the curtain.

Sirius looked at you, frozen in place again, mouth agape as he saw the tapestry shut behind you. He swallowed, face stoic once more, the way you had whispered in his ear, had reminded him an awful lot of the way Remus had earlier, softer, almost like a purr rather than a demanding bark, but both had felt as intimate as the other. Both equally shiver inducing.

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deadlynavigation · 6 months ago

Text

(Little) Intruder Alert

Warnings: mention of weapons/breaking in/mariticide, female pronouns used (lmk if you want a male/nb version!), empty threats

Author’s Note: yall are the best, thank you for being SO patient these past couple months. Send in requests of any kind, even fandoms I previously said were closed. thanks again, love you guys 💕💕

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“He’s down?”

“Down is a strong word. I kind of just dumped him onto the bed and shut the door.”

Din snorts. “Wouldn’t blame you if you did, cyar’ika.”

You sigh, wandering into the dark cockpit. The lights have long since been turned off for the night, leaving only the bright stars sitting outside the windows to guide you. As you move, they catch on different things, illuminating everything from one of the child’s toys left lying around to your husband’s polished armor. It’s messy, sure, but it provides you with a little comfort after the day you just had.

Speaking of- “The bounty’s been frozen, right?”

Din grunts from his spot in the pilot’s chair. “Yeah.”

You exhale sharply, a weight leaping off of your shoulders. The bounty today wasn’t exactly easy. He had been on the run for weeks now, reportedly heavily armed and off his rocker. No other bounty hunter wanted to chase after that, so of course, you and Din were assigned to him.

“We should probably pick up the pace now that he’s on board. I don’t want the child near him for too long.” You worry, subconsciously picking at a hangnail.

“He’ll be fine, Y/n.” Din’s sleepy voice trails off as you get closer to him. He must have been dozing before you came in, catching up on the sleep that he can no longer afford to lose now that he’s an old man. You have to muffle your laugh with your sleeve. He’s such a dad, taking random naps in spots that he knows will hurt his back while his child runs rampant.

“I just don’t want him to get curious and–” You’re rudely interrupted by Din pulling you into his lap like it’s nothing and wrapping his arms around your waist to make sure you stay put. “Maker, Din. You can’t just do that.”

“Hmm.” Din’s hands slouch to your hips as he melts into the chair again. “Rest, cyar’ika. No more work talk.”

“Din, you know full well that if you fall asleep here—“ He drags a hand up to cover your mouth. Which is unfair, considering you can’t lick the filthy glove, but you’re not strong enough to force him away, either. Instead, you pin him with a glare, trying to burn holes into his helmet.

No words are spoken as he slowly rests his hand against your hip once more. His head is now tilted back, his posture broken, and with you in his lap, it’s only a matter of time before soft snores start coming out of the helmet.

All of a sudden, the peace is broken by a soft whimper in the entrance to the cockpit. Your head snaps over to see a green dot, drowning in his favorite blanket with tears streaming down his tiny face.

“Oh no, baby. Did you have a nightmare?” You coo to the child, rising from Din’s lap and rushing to where he pouts. You scoop him up and wipe his tears from his cheeks, trying to be as gentle as possible so as not to spook him. “Come on, let’s go back to bed and we can talk all about your dream…” Your voice trails off as you climb back onto the lower level of the Crest, to where Din can hear the faint sounds of you settling the child for the second time tonight. He’s left in silence for a good two minutes, settling back into the chair and running through tomorrow’s schedule while trying to keep his eyes open for you.

Eventually, you scale the ladder and make it back to the cockpit with no child situated in your arms. You fall back into Din’s lap where he gladly welcomes you, running his hands up and down your back in a soothing motion.

“He’s down?”

“Don’t you start with me, Din Djarin.” You mumble half-heartedly into his shoulder. He smiles softly, turning his helmet to get a better view of your tired face.

“Ready for bed?” He asks, leaning his forehead against your hair.

“Please. But give it five more minutes–your hands are working wonders right now.” You say in a blissed-out state. He chuckles, adding a little more pressure to your spine.

“Heard that before,” Din murmurs. You snap back up to stare at him, suddenly ready to go all over again.

“I did not just hear what I think I did,” You murmur in awe. His helmet stares at you in a deadpan, yes-you-did manner. You’re seconds away from ripping that helmet off and doing unspeakable things to his face when–

Creeeaaak

Din shoots up from the chair, sending you tumbling to the floor. He pulls his blaster from his waistband in one hand and catches you by the waist with the other, taking on a battle stance to confront the intruder.

But strangely enough, when he scans the room, there’s not a soul to be found.

You’re used to this, though. You grab Din’s chin and tilt his head down, pulling his eyes closer to the ground, until he catches the small green creature at the entrance, this time pulling along one of his many stuffed animals.

“Your turn, baby,” you laugh wearily as Din sighs. He stomps over to the smiling creature, and for the second time that night, the child is carried down the ladder and into his bed. You stand around waiting for Din to come back, knowing that the chair is going to be uncomfortable and stiff without him to sit on. You’ve always wondered how he puts up with it, especially for longer periods of time. Then again, he is a fan of self-imposed suffering.

Finally, Din clambers back up to the top. “Ready for bed, mesh’la?” He questions, barely standing as sleep threatens to take over.

“Yes, but quickly, please. As much as I love him…” You leave Din to fill in the blanks. He nods silently and stalks over to you, hesitating for only a moment before reaching over and hoisting you over his shoulder, subtly shifting you to make sure your abdomen isn’t pressed against his pauldron.

“Din-!” You cut yourself off, not wanting to risk waking the child. However, that doesn’t mean you can’t squirm a little just to let him know that he’s not getting away with this.

“Hold still,” Din grunts, shifting you into a steadier position as he makes his way towards the exit to the ship’s upper floor.

“Din Djarin, don’t you even think about it–” You don’t even have time to finish your sentence before he launches himself down the chute, skipping the ladder entirely. You both land with a thud, pausing for a second to listen for the child’s wails. Nothing.

“I’m going to kill you. You’re going to wake up in the morning, and I’m not gonna be there, and it’s going to be all your fault…” you carry on with empty threats, trying to get a rise out of your spouse as he carries you to the newly-placed bed. The cot directly underneath the child was getting a little aggravating, so you committed to convincing Din of the need for a real bed in a real room. Evidently, your plan worked.

Once the door is open, Din takes the few steps required to get to the bed and unceremoniously dumps you onto it. He doesn’t move after that, taking his time in admiring you, and you swear you can feel the smug little smirk forming underneath that armor. You huff at him and roll over.

“Hide all you want, cyar’ika. Not going to change my plans for tonight.” He turns to the little compartment haphazardly labeled ‘armor’, starting the long process of unclipping, untying, and when he gets impatient, ripping off his beskar. It all gets placed in the correct spot, ready and waiting for tomorrow. Once that’s finished, he heads to the basket you forced him to get to store clothing, digging through folded laundry until he finds some casual pants. Back at the start of your relationship, he would’ve kept looking for a loose sleepshirt, but as time passed and you both became more comfortable, the shirts stayed in the basket.

Din looks over at you and shakes his head. He goes back to the basket, rifling through until he lands on one of his older shirts–a faded gray one, large enough to drape down to your knees. Perfect. He walks over to the bed in a relaxed manner, gets down on his knees to plant a kiss on your forehead without any metal blocking it before smothering you with the shirt. You gasp as he runs away, ripping the shirt off your head and pinning him with an outraged stare. Still, though, you undress and throw the shirt on.

“Stupid husband–in sickness and in health–all lies…” You mumble angrily as he watches on in amusement. “Protector–yeah, ok. Caring, etcetera… should be ashamed, treating me like this…” Eventually, the shirt makes its way onto your body, and you collapse back into bed. Din crawls under the covers as well, pulling you into his chest and covering your face with gentle kisses.

“Done trying to murder me?” You pout, still not giving in to him. He laughs before starting up with the kisses again. One to your forehead, one to each cheek, one to your nose, and finally to your slightly parted lips before repeating the pattern as needed.

“You love it,” He grins, going in for another kiss. You mumble something about mariticide before giving in to him, losing the tension in your back as you wrap your arms around him–

A series of small knocks comes from the closed door. You both gasp and leap away from each other, ready to kill whoever’s escaped your carbon-freezer. The door creaks open, and… no one appears.

You sigh heavily and look down. A small green creature waits for you there, this time two blankets trailing after him. He smiles once he meets your eyes, blinking twice at you.

“Maker,” you sigh as Din flops back onto the bed. You drag yourself to the child, taking him in your arms for what is hopefully the last time as you rock him back and forth in a steady rhythm. His bug-eyes slowly start to close, and soon he is fast asleep in your arms. You sneak back to his little room, laying him down as quickly as possible and shutting the door before nearly sprinting back to Din and, more importantly, your bed.

“Last time. Please, Maker, let that be the last time we see that child tonight.” You pray. Din chuckles, staring at you with those big brown eyes. You’re struck by the depth in them; no matter how many times this man takes off his helmet, bares his face to you without fear of judgment, you will never get used to the striking beauty in every single one of his features. You flop into bed, trying to communicate this with a kiss. Din responds eagerly, pulling you into him with strong and weathered hands that stroke your sides like you’re the last woman on earth.

And all of a sudden, a cry echoes from the child’s room. You almost scream, instead choosing to burrow into Din’s neck, refusing to let go until the cries get louder. Din braces himself for a very unhappy kid, getting up begrudgingly and leaving you with a squeeze.

“I’ll be right back, mesh’la. And then we can continue…” he leaves the promises floating in the room as he leaves you with a squeeze. You watch him go, frustrated beyond belief with the kiddo. Hopefully this not-sleeping stage ends soon.

When Din returns, you are fast asleep, spread out across the bed, blankets tangled under you. All he can do is chuckle and lay across you, falling asleep as soon as his head rests against you.

And that’s how you stay–until a certain child decides to test how loud his voice can go at three in the morning.

#star wars #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x y/n #star wars x reader #requests #stay tuned #din grogu #grogu djarin #baby grogu

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