#but if you’d stuck your head out of the sand for FIVE MINUTES while your own precious darlings were picking me apart I might actually
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margridarnauds · 5 days ago
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Sometimes I wonder…what is going on with my supervisor because like. Last year he didn’t want me to attend the Big Once a Year Conference and this year I wasn’t *able* to and…I have friends who are negotiating postdocs with this conference with senior scholars. I have friends who HAVE gotten postdocs. While he’s telling me to not focus on getting back to Europe when… I’m not even being allowed to TRY.
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iridescent-petrichor · 1 year ago
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silence feels better with you, chapter two
Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader
Warnings: drinking mention
Words: 1.6K
Previous Chapter - Next Chapter
You and JJ broke up five weeks ago.
Every day, you tried to distract yourself from the dull ache in your heart, busying yourself with errands or seeing friends, or doing quite literally anything to keep you from being alone with your thoughts.
Tonight, it was pouring rain, so much so that you struggled to see the road even with your windshield wipers on the highest setting. It had been a long day, and all you wanted was to go home and curl up in your bed. You were exhausted from running around all day, trying to focus on the road instead of the tiredness behind your eyes.
That was until your focus went straight to the sound of your car’s engine sputtering and the feeling of your car slowing to a stop as you hastily pulled over to the side of the road.
It was deathly silent as you climbed out of your car, besides the constant pattering of the rain hitting the pavement beneath your feet. Not a single other car was on the road, and you weren’t even really sure where you were, all you knew was that you were on the outskirts of town.
JJ was always the one you went to with car troubles. While you were dating, you’d often sit off to the side and watch while he helped fix up your car, but after twenty minutes of staring at the underside of the hood of your car in the pouring rain, it became clear that none of the knowledge JJ tried to teach you stuck.
You tried calling the local tow company, but no one answered. Cursing under your breath, you slammed the hood of your car back down, halfheartedly wiping back your wet hair, feeling hot tears stinging your eyes.
Pulling out your phone, you tried to cover the screen with your hand as you scrolled through your contacts. Everyone you knew would be asleep or didn’t have a license. You scrolled past Kiara’s contact, remembering how she’d gone to bed early tonight so she could wake up in time for a morning shift at The Wreck. With a sigh, you scrolled past Pope’s contact as well, knowing it was unlikely Pope would be awake past midnight.
Shakily, you pressed on John B’s number.
“Please, please, please, please-” You clutched your phone to your ear, pacing back and forth in front of your car.
-
John B sat on a fallen log at the Boneyard, beer in hand as he laughed with some friends. There were a few empty beer bottles scattered around him in the sand.
JJ wasn’t too far off, glaring at the people around him at the party. He was way too sober for a kegger down at the beach, but John B was still keeping him away from alcohol as punishment for throwing a beer bottle into John B’s kitchen all those weeks ago. If JJ hadn’t been so upset about the breakup, he might’ve found it in him to appreciate his best friend not letting him get drunk and spiral further, but all he wanted to do was get as wasted as possible and forget about everything he’d ruined.
A friend of JJ’s walked up, noticing the blonde’s grim expression. JJ was sure he hadn’t even spoken to the guy more than a few times, and he’d never actually interacted with him outside of the party, but when he handed JJ a fresh beer, he managed to force a halfhearted smile in thanks. John B was distracted enough by his own inebriation to warn JJ about drinking, so JJ popped the cap off, taking a moment to stare into the bottle at the murky liquid.
The more rational part of him hesitated before taking the first sip, briefly stopping to consider that John B might be right about staying sober for the night.
His head snapped to the right when a distant buzzing took his focus. John B’s phone was in the sand, left unnoticed by the brunette as it buzzed repeatedly.
JJ’s heart sunk to his stomach when he saw that you were the one calling John B.
John B hadn’t even noticed, continuing his conversation with his friends, taking another long swig from the beer in his hand.
JJ sat there in silence for a minute, watching the phone ring. He knew he should let John B know, tell him that his phone was ringing, tell him that you need something, but his mind was racing. Why would you be calling John B of all people? What could you possibly need from your ex’s best friend at almost two in the morning?
The phone stopped ringing, and JJ’s shoulders slumped, trying to relax and redirect his attention away from you. As if he could ever not think about you. He raised the beer bottle to his lips, about to take the much-needed drink when his own phone started buzzing.
He almost dropped the beer with how quickly he scrambled to grab his phone out of his pocket.
You were calling him. You were calling him.
-
When you heard JJ pick up the phone, you couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“Hello?” JJ’s voice was rushed, and if you weren’t so panicked and shivering in the pouring rain, you might’ve picked up on how eager he sounded to talk to you.
“Hey. I’m- You trail off, already starting to regret calling your ex-boyfriend. “I’m really sorry-”
“Don’t worry about it. What happened?” JJ quickly reassures you, and you have to take a moment to calm your aching heart at the softness in his voice.
“I just- my car broke down.” You say weakly. “I don’t know what to do. Can you just- can you please come help me?”
There’s a faint sound of rustling on the other line as you wait for JJ to answer. If you strain your ears, you could even hear keys jingling.
“I’m on my way.”
After he hangs up, you send out your location to JJ, shoving your phone back in your pocket and collapsing onto the curb, burying your head in your hands.
You wait there, shivering in the cold rain until you hear a car coming, looking up to see the headlights of John B’s van. JJ pulls the car over, hopping out of the Twinkie and running towards you.
“Jesus Christ, you’re soaked!” He doesn’t even glance at your car, instantly shrugging his jacket off and wrapping it around you, worry in his eyes.
You don’t bother protesting, knowing he’s right, and the rain has soaked you to the bone. He reaches forward, rubbing your arms a few times, trying to provide any sort of warmth for your trembling figure.
“I tried to call a tow truck.” You manage to say, your teeth chattering as you wipe your eyes. It’s unclear where the rain ends and your tears begin.
“Yeah, it’s late sunshine, Tommy ain’t comin’ until morning.” He says gently, and you sigh internally at the small town you live in.
JJ’s already guiding you towards the passenger seat of John B’s van when you hesitate. “W-what about my car?”
“We’ll deal with it in the morning.”
He hops into the driver’s seat, quickly making sure you’re safe, and buckled in before he starts driving towards your place. He stares straight ahead, trying to force himself to focus on the road and not the way you’re shivering.
You, however, decide to take this time to stare at him, taking in the features on his face.
He looks tired in a way that’s hard to explain; the kind of tired that doesn’t go away after a good night’s sleep.
“I missed you.” You whisper after a few moments. He winces a little at your words, and you shrink back into the passenger seat, wishing you hadn’t said anything at all.
There’s a long silence between the two of you as JJ takes a turn, the route back to your house forever embedded in his muscle memory.
“I missed you too.” He whispers back, not daring to take his eyes off the road, too terrified to let himself see the look in your eyes.
“I’m sorry I called you.” You say quietly, looking away from him to gaze down at your lap, fiddling with your still shaking hands.
“Don’t be.” Is all he says.
The silence when he arrives at your house is almost as painful as the breakup itself. The longer that neither of you spoke, the more your heart ached. It hurt more than anything to know that you could barely even talk to someone you used to share everything with.
“I should get back to John B. He’ll be wondering where his car went,” JJ says quietly, finally breaking the dead quiet.
You don’t trust your voice enough to speak, simply nodding and climbing out of the car. You’re still shaking from the cold as you walk into your house, too terrified to let yourself look back at him as you close the front door behind you, quickly making your way into your room.
The tears come before you can stop them, and you soon find yourself crumpled on the floor of your bedroom, clutching the jacket that you’d almost forgotten JJ had given you to stay warm.
The wound from only five weeks ago feels so fresh, like every bit of healing and moving on that you’d done was wiped away, replacing with a raw pain that stabbed at your chest.
You don’t know how long you stay like that before you finally pick yourself up, slowly making your way to the bathroom to take a warm shower, trying to wash off the cold that seeped into your bones.
You felt numb as you went about your routine, your mind continually replaying every moment from tonight. Everything JJ said, every expression on his face, every gesture he made was stuck in your mind.
Finally, you made your way into your bed, falling asleep under the covers, JJ’s jacket still clutched in your arms.
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p1nkcanoe · 1 year ago
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pink i don’t know if your requests are open or if this is even something you’d be willing to write but i saw you drabble about the ghouls not being allowed to have sex on tour and having a sex party when they get back and it’s been stuck in my head since so do you think that maybe, MAYBE, you could write something about that. anything.
please and thank you pink. it’s okay if not just thought it could be something. thank you again<3
-- of course i can do that
“You wanna be in there, don’t you? You wanna be like them?” 
Dew whimpers around Aether’s cock deep in the back of his mouth. His lips feel so impossibly stretched around him, it’s something he’ll have to get used to again after being away for so long. He struggles to look up through teary eyes and a groan tears from his throat when he meets heavy lidded ones and takes a hard thrust to the back of his throat. “Keep trying to prove it–show me that you deserve to be fucked like one of the girls and maybe I’ll consider it.” Despite the tears in his eyes and how violently he chokes, Dew swallows him down and gives the Quintessence ghoul his all–shows him how much he misses him so maybe, maybe, he’ll fuck him in the circle where the ghoulettes are all currently getting fucked within an inch of their lives and not hidden away in the corner where he can only imagine why they’re all moaning and growling the way they are. 
Mountain’s got Sunshine bent over the back of the couch. Her claws dig deep into the canvas covers a sibling had placed over the furniture for this very reason. She’s thrown forward against the cover with every thrust. There will be a rash on her chest come morning from the rubbing, but for now she doesn’t care. She’s only had Aether to satisfy the burning in her core for months, and don’t get her wrong, Aether’s dick is great, but Mountain’s so deep she can feel him in her stomach and the grip he has on her hips is so strong it’s clear he’s more than missed her. She’ll have to be carried to bed once he’s finished with her. 
When Rain had initially grabbed Cumulus by a thick chunk of her hair, he’d steered her down to the floor, undressed her less than ideally by practically ripping through cotton with his fangs. He’d licked her out, devoured her with his mouth until her legs shook and she closed her thighs around his ears, and when he’d completely soaked through his pants he’d ripped those off, too. Now he’s got the air ghoulette on her back against the worn common room carpet. He thrusts lazily in and out of her warm body, much too slow and listless to get anywhere, preoccupied by a much younger ghoul’s tongue in his mouth. He grips the young quintessence ghoul by his jaw, holds him close and strong to press their mouths together. They’ve given up on kissing, settled for sucking each others’ tongue and memorizing the ridges of their teeth and fangs. Swapping spit and breathy little moans. Cumulus and Aurora on the other hand, haven’t been reduced to such careless actions. They do their best to keep a rhythm while simultaneously getting fucked by their respective, well-endowed ghouls. Cumulus holds herself up by her elbows, hovering over the other ghoulette with a sex-drunk smile on her swollen lips. Aurora begs her to smother her in her titties, Cumulus promises her she will after a few more minutes and a lot more kisses. The smaller ghoulette pulls her in again. They become hidden by a curtain of white curls. 
Cirrus and Swiss are having a battle for dominance on the kitchen table. It’ll have to be scrubbed five times over when they’re done, perhaps sanded down and refinished… They wrestle with teeth and tongue and claws, tearing at clothes until they fall to the floor and grabbing at skin until it’s blooming with hickey or bruise. They work quickly, ridding eachother of their clothes until they’re bare and pressing warm bodies together until they become a tangle of limbs. The noises coming from that corner of the room are animalistic, feral and desperate for a long overdue release, much different from everyone else. Swiss has pinned the ghoulette on her back for the time being. He holds her wrists above her head with all of his weight. If it hurts she doesn’t show her pain at all. He thrusts hard, slams their hips together and makes the wood creak, and Cirrus feebly tries to pull her wrists free. She won’t be able to push him away like this, but she’s got her legs wrapped around his waist. One swing and the massive ghoul will lose his balance, teeter on the edge of the table, and will ultimately face the decision to fall alone or bring the ghoulette down with him… For now she lets him fuck her, any second she could change her mind and the tables will turn. Literally. 
They have hours to go until anyone is sated..
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outpost51 · 5 months ago
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Talus and Fira, 11! (please I just want them to be happy 😭)
Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss
uhhhhhhhhhhh i. tried? i think i fit the prompt
11. …in joy.
★・・・・・・★
high five for low lives
Let’s pretend tomorrow night never happened.
T+ || 614 words
Talus was ready to take a six-year nap, and they hadn’t even fully docked the Merkava. Fira's voice had gone hoarse yelling at Janus and Atria to quit fighting on the ship. They’d been in an on-and-off verbal sparring match since they offloaded their cargo on Korlus, and Janus was currently trying to shake the little human’s grip on his crest. Alion was glued to his Omnitool, occasionally lifting his feet to avoid his younger brother’s flailing legs. Nico was blaring some scream-rock band to drown them out; Talus could almost make out the lyrics through his eldest son's headphones.
He pinched the bridge of his nose to suppress the rapidly growing pressure behind his eyes. Shoulda wrapped it, he thought.
“You knock it off, too,” Fira chided. Had he said that out loud? “The VI’s yelling at you to do the thing with the airlock.”
He shook off the impeding migraine and finished the docking cycle. “Ready?”
Fira stepped over Atria's legs, the only part of her visible beneath Janus, who’d resorted to sitting cross-legged on his little sister to prevent any further attacks. She assumed her position at the airlock door, ready to punch the button and release four pent-up fledglings on the spaceport. She nodded to her husband.
Talus whistled.
All motion stopped on the ship as their kids’ heads snapped to attention.
The airlock doors creaked halfway, stuck, and then slammed open.
Her hoodie rustled in the slipstream left by her children.
Talus approved the pre-portioned allowance transfer to each of his kids’ chits, knocking off ten credits each from Atria and Janus. Fira collapsed against the doorway with a long sigh.
“We need a bigger ship. Or longer vacations.” Her voice sounded as tired as he felt, and as he crossed the short distance to his wife, he could see the droop in her mandibles.
“We could always drop ‘em off on Illium and run away to some beach,” he suggested, his subvocals light. Fira smirked, pinching his waist playfully. Her don’t-even-think-about-it look didn’t have its normal impact; her bright amethyst eyes had dulled significantly since they left the drop point. “Think about it,” he rumbled, leaning closer and cupping her delicate silver mandibles in his hands. “No screamin’, no shitty music, not havin’ to read a dictionary every time Ali talks.” Her giggle was accompanied by a soft cuff under his crest. “Ass in the sand, feet in the water, bottle a’ rum between us.”
She hummed. “That does sound nice, but you’d miss them the minute we left port.” Her manicured talon booped his nasal plates. “Big softie.”
Their browplates connected, and Talus let his eyes drift shut, taking in her scent. The hint of incense and vanilla drew him closer. He wanted to drown in it. In the silence of the ship, his mind wandered to white, sun-warmed sand sifting through his fingers and waves sloshing over his bare legs. The sweet cola on her tongue made a cocktail with the ghost of whiskey on his breath.
A shrill “Dad!” shattered their moment of peace. They sighed against each other’s mouthplates and disentangled their legs. Talus shoved himself back, turning to stomp his way off the ship. A sharp slap to his rear stopped him in his tracks.
“This isn’t over, Talus Cassi.” Fira sauntered by him with a wink, knocking her hip against his thigh.
One hand shot out to catch her by the waist while the other connected with the airlock control. The door slammed shut again. “They’ll be fine for a few hours,” he growled, already pulling his giggling wife back towards their bunk. “Maybe the next one’ll have your manners ‘steada mine.”
★・・・・・・★
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callsign-marlie · 2 years ago
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fly boy
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pairing: bradley "rooster" bradshaw x f! civilian reader
warning: mature content 18+ *minors dni!*, drinking/alcohol/drunkenness, unprotected seggsy time w/ consent, pregnancy kink (??) a lil twist at the end, but other than that really not so much shockingly
summary: a fated failed football catch in a precarious situation leads you to a night you'll replay over and over in your head for the rest of your days.
a/n: let's pray that the tags work today but HOO BOY this is my third time trying to post this, tumblr gods please be on my side.
if you need me, i'll be thinking up domestic situations with my favorite pilots k thanks <3
Your beer was flattening by the second, but you just couldn’t get yourself to pick up the sweating glass to chug it down. After all, you’d lose your one and only form of entertainment. Every few seconds, a little carbonated bubble floated to the surface and you would count as many as you could in a minute’s time.
16.
Already significantly less than what was coming up just five minutes ago. You tipped your wrist to peek at your watch again. Twenty minutes past the hour. He was late.
“Stood up, hun?” The bartender, Penny, gave you a sad smile, drying her hands on the towel that hung from her belt loop. “A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be sitting alone drowning in the amber depths, you know. You should be out on that dance floor with the others, enjoying yourself!”
A sigh escaped your lips as your eyes wandered to the group of people out dancing to the jukebox. People from all walks of life were dancing on the floor, singing at the top of their lungs, mingling in quiet corners, or playing billiards at one of The Hard Deck’s various tables. Everyone seemed to be in their own spaces, enjoying their own little slices of life while you’ve been stuck sitting there. Counting fucking bubbles. “I’ve been waiting here for twenty minutes already, so there’s probably a good chance that the fly boy I met today ain’t gonna come hang out.”
The bartender crossed her arms, her hip coming out to the side. “Fly boy? You mean one of the aviators?” Penny huffed loud, ripping her towel from her belt loop and snapping it in the air before you. The wind from the whip made you flinch as it parted the wisps of hair near the top of your forehead. “Take it from me,” she started low, a pointed glare. “Never. Trust. Aviators. They’re gonna let you crash before they turn n’ burn out of there themselves so they don’t get taken down too.”
She grabbed at the now flattened lager on your coaster and poured another one straight from the tap. A new crisp cloud of foam rested gently at the top. “This one’s the house, hun. But don’t wait too long. That guy doesn’t owe you anything for wasting your time. It’s no use waiting on something that won’t ever come.”
You raise your glass to the bar patroness in thanks and take a long gulp. It was a bit more hoppy than you thought it would have been. Based on the color, you were expecting bitter, but not this almost refreshing tang tied with fruity undertones left on the bottom of your tongue. 
Coming out to bustling Miramar for an assignment, you never expected the variety of tastes, sights, and sounds you could come to encounter. You had quickly settled in on the scenic North Island base, finding the heat and sun of the beaches to be more relaxing than the hustle and bustle of your resident city.
A trip to the beach earlier that day with your favorite book should have been all relaxation and no fuss, but a stray football landing at your feet with a tanned hunk suddenly face up under your beach chair and between your parted legs left you with your heart beating in your throat. Your head was most certainly out of sorts.
He had those boyish magazine model good looks about him, two pink scars folding themselves down his cheek to mar his skin. Natural sun highlights fell through his dark locks and he smelled of coconut and sunscreen; salt, sweat, and the musk of the sand mingling. However, the fear and nervousness in his hazel eyes as he did his best to scramble away from beneath your beach chair left you awed. He stood at quick attention, his rippling abdominals tightening into a strict posture befitting a soldier.
“I-I’m sorry, ma’am, got a little too overzealous with that catch, ma’am. Please forgive me ma’am, I-I’m so so sorry.” He stuttered through his apology, his slim mustache crinkling up at every pronunciation of ma’am. Sweat lined the top of his lip and his aviator sunglasses were aske, covered with sand as he stood at attention. A pretty little flush was apparent on his chest all the way up to his ears. You did your best to come back to reality.
“I-It’s ok, sailor, no harm no foul. You’re not hurt right?” He relaxed just a moment, letting his shoulders roll forward with a deep exhale. “Not in the slightest. Sorry about that again.”
“Hey, things happen. Would have been cooler if you caught the ball though.” You tossed the pig skin back at your resident Baywatch babe and watched him recoil at the force of the toss, clutching it to his chest. “I’ll try my best to be cooler, ma’am. Make sure you watch, this next one’s gonna be for you.” A crooked smirk left his lips, and your chest fluttered.
Shit. 
He stopped his trot back to his buddies suddenly and turned around. “Also, I’m not a sailor, ma’am. I’m a pilot. An aviator. Call sign Rooster. But you? You can call me Bradley.” He left you breathless with a wink before bounding off. You barely had a moment to register what he said before you yelled back, “I’m (y/n)! And quit callin’ me ma’am, fly boy! I’m not that old!”
You had done your best to get back to your fiction, but always found your eyes gazing back up to the large group of pilots playing the most ridiculous game of tag football you had ever seen.  Another toss lobbed its way through the air and Bradley grabbed it easily from another tall blonde, clutching it to his chest before spiking it to the ground in victory. His eyes rotated back to you for approval and you gave him a small clap on the top of your now forgotten book. He faced you and gave a cheeky little bow before returning back to his match up. 
Son of a bitch.
Before you knew it, the sun was setting, but you didn’t leave that beach until the rowdy group had begun to pack up their things. Bradley was out of sight and you were slightly disappointed you wouldn’t see him again, but quickly packed up your bag and made your way back to your car.
You heard someone shout your name from behind you and found Bradley, still sun-kissed and beautiful, trotting up to you. “Hey, (y/n), lost sight of you! Thought I wasn’t ever gonna see you again.”
You threw your things in the back of your Volkswagen’s trunk and slammed the lid closed, leaning against the back cap with your arms crossed against the dusk. “I guess I was more invested in your game than I thought, but I still don’t really know who won.” “We had lost track a long time ago. We were just having fun at that point,” he grinned, tucking his hands into his jeans pocket. Even with night’s dark approaching, his smile was luminous. “But listen, I wanted to see if you wanted to catch a drink with me. There’s a little bar down the road over there called The Hard Deck that I like and wanted to know if you wanted to come by and have a drink with me. I gotta make it up to you for my little stunt somehow.”
A grin passed your lips, teeth and all. “Well, fly boy, I think that’s the least you can do for me. Wanna meet at 8? I have to run home and get myself cleaned up first.”
“It’s a date, darlin'. I’ll see you there.”
And that’s the last time you saw Bradley “Rooster” whatever-his-last-name-was because you were too in awe of him to think to ask for it. Or for his phone number, for that matter.
Recalling the event had you downing your fresh pint and scooting yourself off the bench with a wave goodbye to Penny. Fuck that guy. He couldn’t even pay you back for embarrassing you to sin; what a joke. 
Just as you were about to go through the swinging entrance doors to your car, your face bumped into a hard chest and the faint scent of coconut and sunscreen arrested your senses. Strong hands braced your arms before you stumbled back, steadying you upright. And there he was. Shining and bright, all smiles and youth and beauty. An Apollo of the night time. Just… not as regal as you thought.
Of course, as an aviator with a name like Rooster, you should have expected him to be wearing his sunglasses at night. He wore a simple white undershirt under an open tacky 80’s Hawaiian shirt, jean cut offs lingering just above the knees with flip flops to match. He tossed you a goofy smile, a hand immediately going behind his head. “Jeez, good thing I caught you. Gotta look where you’re going, dollface! W-wait, where were you going?” You tightened your teeth against each other, doing your best not to let them grind while you pushed past him.
“I was just going to leave, thanks.”
“What?! I just got here though! I still owe you a drink!” He sounded pitiful, like a child forced to come in from play too early. 
“You’re late, Bradley. A drink’s just not worth my time.”
A heavy pout crossed over him as he followed you out the door. Back to the cold outside. “Oh come on, (y/n), I was picking up some friends to bring! Look, look, look, how about this.”
Long fingers grabbed you around the wrist to spin your frame to him. As much as you wanted to slap his hand away, his pleading hazel eyes begged for only a moment of your time. “All of your drinks are on me tonight. Just come back inside. I wanna introduce you to my pals.” His gaze locked with yours, his intentions delivered to you by telepathy: pure, truthful, and genuine. A glimmer of hope. 
You broke your gaze first with a flush, moving your way back into The Hard Deck and yanking your hand away. “Fine, FINE. All of them. And unfortunately for your wallet, Mr. Rooster, I’m no lightweight.”
He laughed, a playful arm wrapped around your shoulders, that damned smile shining through his lips while he led you forward back into the crowded noise of the bar. A full man child, this one. So easily pleased.  “Mr. Rooster. That’s a good one. The last name’s Bradshaw, by the way. Bradley Bradshaw.”
Your nose crinkled at the thought, creased with laughter. “Jeez, did your parents hate your or something?” 
He grinned, tight lipped only this time. You didn’t catch his tone or his words against the clamor of the jukebox. 
He herded you over to a group of well dressed aviators in their flight uniforms, so very unlike his civie get up. A pretty brunette who waved and quickly moved to your side with a glass of something good, a blondie with a cocky smile who winked at you so much you almost thought it was some kind of tic, a shy guy hanging out in the corner with glasses hanging from his nose looking nowhere and everywhere all at once. There was a tall, willowy fella waving over from the dart board with a shorter, stronger man giving a charming grin trying to block the tall guy's shot. The final one was sitting with a pool cue in his hand waiting for his move to strike, so he only gave a nod in your direction.
Phoenix. Hangman. Bob. Payback. Fanboy. Coyote. Bradley had whispered all of their call signs into your ear while his arm draped around the plateau of your shoulders. His words were starting to slur from the constant flow of Budweisers in his system and his breath was getting heavier the longer the night rolled on. You yourself however, felt light as a feather: finally at ease and calm.
You laughed with your new friends and hollered with them at the final 8 ball shot Phoenix landed on Hangman and when she pulled the crisp $20 bill from his breast pocket. You cheered with the rest when the bar’s bell rang signaling a new round of drinks.
Time never stopped. The night felt like it rolled forever. 
And then, clear as a bell, a piano played.
You didn’t notice that Rooster’s arm had left its constant perch and was currently tickling the ivories placed in the center of the room. Phoenix, a blush of alcohol across her cheeks, pulled you to the center next to the piano to listen to Bradley play. God, the way his long digits danced across the keys was an intricate dance. A tango, a jive, a Charleston. Each beat was different, each tone rang true.
Eventually, a familiar tune shook through the establishment as Bradley’s deep timbre reverberated through its foundation.
“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain Too much love drives a man insane You broke my will But what a thrill,”
And suddenly, the whole bar erupted. “Goodness, gracious, great balls of fire!”
A joyous laughs ruptured from your lungs as the song went on, your feet twirling you across the dance floor while Rooster sang out loud, His brow was beaded with sweat. Fanboy came away from the dart board to spin you around and around before launching you at Phoenix, who held you tight before you fell to the ground in your stupor. You both rocked together, holding hands and shaking your hips to the beat. You were free, albeit drunk, but free nonetheless.
In your drunken romp, you never noticed Rooster’s eyes on you the entire time you danced. He watched the delicate framing of your arms, the bounce of your chest, the way the strap of your top dropped from your shoulder. How beads of sweat made the strands of hair on your forehead stick, or the blush of alcohol spreading across your neck to your shoulders. You were radiant. Glowing, an angel on earth. 
“Rooster’s got the hots for youuuuu, girl,” Phoenix yelled, the bass of the room rolling in your chest. “He hasn’t stopped trying to touch you or look at you all night. He’s all eyes on you.”
She spun you to her quick, your neck snapping back to center with a giggle. Her smile was genuine, gentle and kind, letting you have ample time to return your own. “He’s a good one. I’d trust him with my life if I could.” And with a wink, she was gone in a flash to crowd the piano with her crew.
Your eyes drifted back to the piano man, his skin flushed and glowing under the spotlights. His head tilted back with a vein popping from his chest at the strain of the notes he was singing. The crowds were perched around his piano. 
If you didn’t act now, maybe you’d never get this moment back again.
“Hey Rooster, you big stuuuuud,” you drawled, raising your glass to him.
He smiled under his breath to turn behind him, as if he wasn’t watching you the whole time. His fingers never stopped playing. “What’s up, darlin’?”
You gave a devious grin, your nose wrinkling just the way he liked. “Take me to bed or lose me forever!”
“Show me the way home!” he howled, finishing off the final verse with the howls and stomps of the bar behind him. 
The crowd roared while he came up from his seat. He threw a huge wad of cash towards Penny, who gave him a knowing smile and a wink towards you. Don’t trust aviators, huh? Maybe this will be different, Penny. I feel it in my gut.
The cold of the night met your skin before you knew it and Rooster had you piggybacked to him before you could even scream to make him put you down. His abs rippled underneath your constricted legs, while his musk invaded your senses.
He walked and walked while you directed him to the place you were staying, as both of you were too in the bag to think about getting behind a wheel tonight. Your head laid on his upper shoulders while you talked about life: how you were a morning person and he was a night owl, how breakfast was your favorite and he could eat dessert for every meal.
Eventually, your surprise charter dropped you at the entrance of your home and you fumbled with the keys to unlock the door. You didn’t bother turning around while you walked in. You left the door open as you walked into the foyer, leaving your shoes at the door. That ball was in his court now. 
And thankfully, you heard the door shut on its own not too long later. 
You were in the kitchen with the lights dimmed low, grabbing some glasses of water and some pain medicine for your impending hangover when the pilot sauntered in. Sandals off, like a gentleman. You rolled a glass and some tablets in his direction, taking your own at the same time. As you gulped down the water, you motioned for him to swallow them. “Trust me, you’ll thank me tomorrow.”
He did as he was told and you watched a rebel droplet of water sink its way down the side of his neck, rolling down the skin of his jugular. Before your brain could process what was happening, your tongue was rolling along his salt-tainted skin, licking up the pesky drop to capture his lips. It was instant electricity.
You were never this forward. Never this powerful. Something had come over you, watching him play that piano. Feeling the weight of his arm on your shoulder all night. The weight of his gaze on your form. The heaviness of his words in the shell of your ear. The feeling of his hard body pressed against your chest while he jostled you the whole way home.
A surprised mewl left his throat before he registered what had happened. His lips pressed harder against your own, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip to seek purchase to its new territory. It was all carnal as his hands found the back of your head and tangled themselves in your hair. The gentle pull of his fingers roped a surprise gasp from your lips, your jaw opening. He pulled away from you for a moment to look over your wanton face, eyes half lidded and lips swollen. He dove back in, pressing the small of your back against your kitchen island. “I may not need to thank you tomorrow. I may just thank you right now.”
Your hands grazed themselves over the ripples of his undershirt (Hawaiian shirt be damned to the linoleum floor), and lifted the hem to gently rake your nails over the smooth skin of his abdomen. He sucked in a deep breath at your feather light touches while he pulled you to sit on the edge of the island. His digits groped down your body, gently fondling the front of your chest. The pleasant shocks that rose over your skin that left goosebumps and the hair on your skin to rise. You broke his kiss, your tongues ceasing their battle for the briefest of moments for you to whisper: “Bed.”
You hopped down to grab his hand and pull him towards your bedroom, doing your best to keep as many body parts connected to him as possible. You were both a flurry of mouths, hands, skin and nails. You couldn’t let each other go, even if you tried.
He lifted you from the floor and planted you on your back atop your comforter, kissing down your clothed abdomen and running those magical, calloused hands across the exposed skin of your thighs. His mustache tickled at your skin while he nosed up the hem of your top to lick a circle at your belly button. The dampness between your legs was becoming insufferable as you squirmed under him, your fingers aching to the nerve to pull him closer.
Your top was off and your bra was shed without you realizing, you left nipple wrapped up in the warmth of his mouth. Rooster’s tongue circled and flicked at the bud, grabbing a high pitched whine from the root of your chest. He popped his lips off only for a moment to smile at you.
“Well if that wasn’t the prettiest noise I’ve ever heard,” he mused, keeping eye contact while he attached himself to the right and repeated the movement. Your breath was coming in shakily at his ministrations, the heat in your gut an impossible ache that needed relief. “Roo… Roo- Bradley, please.”
“Please what, honey? Use those words.” His fingers took their time getting to your shorts, skillfully popping the button with two fingers. “What do you want? I’ll do anything you ask me to, baby.”
“I need you, in me. This second. Foreplay be damned, I need your cock now.”
That charming smile flew back to his lips as he left a chaste kiss to your forehead. “As you wish, ma’am.”
You raised your hips enough to slide off your shorts while Bradley simply moved the cloth covering your core to the side of your thigh. He rolled himself down the bed to inspect the site for himself, groaning out loud, his head tilting back in the dim light for you to see the gleam of his throat illuminating the love bites you left behind.
“God, doll, you’re soaked. Just one taste? Please? Pretty pretty please? It looks just delicious,” he moaned out, running the tip of his index finger over your slick. Moans fell out of your mouth like a stream at this point: it was a flood. “B-Bradley, stop, I’ll cum like that.”
“Maybe that’s what I want, (y/n),” he muttered, a new darkness overtaking his tone. He crept his way back up to your face, his eyes never leaving yours as he reached a point where his hardness was pressed against you. “Maybe I want you to cum all over my fingers. Make you cum so hard, you’d squirt all over the bed. I’d make you beg me to stop. I bet you’d like that, huh?”
As much as the thought pleased you, the image of his mouth on your pussy, fingers curled deep inside, his mustache making that sweet friction against your clit, you had to do everything in your power to shoo the thoughts away. Just the pressure of his dick on your wet pussy, the heat, the girth, and the insatiable hunger was enough to grab him by the back of his hair to pull him down to you. “Put your cock in me right now, Lieutenant.”
That was it. All guns were blazing. 
Rooster’s shorts and underwear were gone in an instant and he was lined up at your entrance at supersonic speed. He paused for a moment, the length of him resting on top of your stomach. His hands gripped underneath your chin as he left a sweet kiss on your lips. This man was a double edged sword; so sweet, tender even, and the next minute? A demon. A full, lustful demon ready to take you to hell with him. Now you understand Penny’s warning.
“Honey, (y/n) I don’t have any protection with me. Are you sure you wanna do this?”
“Bradley, I couldn’t give a shit if I got pregnant with your baby right now. I don’t think I’ve ever needed a cock as much as I need yours right now. Just fucking give it to me.” And that was the truth. The alcohol was burning out of your system like rocket fuel and you were nearly completely sober. You couldn’t even see what his cock looked like in the dim light of the nighttime, but you knew it was everything you needed and more.
With that blessing, his forehead on yours, Rooster slowly sunk his cock into you, each tantalizing inch stretching your walls just enough. You both groaned out loud as he kept pushing, little by little, until he was sheathed to the hilt. He looked down at your face, sweat beading along his chest, dropping a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to your neck. A string of saliva connected between the two of you. A quick breath. “‘M gonna move.”
His hips rocked into your slick and you could have sworn you were going to melt. His left hand reached to connect to your neck and leave the gentlest of pressures while he pulled long strokes from your pussy. He grabbed a cry from you with each slide. Your lungs felt like they were going to explode, your heart fluttering in your chest at the pressure on your throat, his smooth voice whispering the filthiest things in your ears. Each time his cock, thick and veined, dragged from your heat, an emptiness and hollowness were left behind that only let you want more. More.
The more Bradley picked up his speed, the more comfortable you became. He released his hand from your throat and placed both hands on either side of your head. His face was close, his eyes half lidded with your mouths mere millimeters apart. You exchanged your breath, each pant and groan, each soft ‘please’ that echoed from your lips drove his hips forward to delirium. 
The heat in your core pooled and pooled until finally, it gushed free from you, a relief like aloe rushing over your system. Bradley captured your lips to muffle your scream to a moan as you rippled around him, the shock of the contractions nearly bringing him to his own premature end. When the shocks were quelled, he cooed against your skin. His mouth left icy spots along your neck, your forehead, your chest. “Atta girl,” he whispered before placing a kiss on your forehead. “That’s my girl. Good job, baby. So good. Wow.”
You reveled in his praise, rubbing your cheek against his shoulders in comfort. Your stomach was in knots, but was slowly untangling itself and burning up again at the fullness already within you.
“Lay on your side.” So gentle, his commands, that you did what you were told without a word. Your head was hazy and your vision was blurry in the dark of the night, but his hands enveloped your chest to hug your back to his own, his cock already positioned behind you. He slid in just as easy, this new angle eliciting the sweetest moan from his throat. You let your hands roll behind you to tangle themselves in his sandy locks as he took the liberty to move on his own accord. His strong left arm wrapped around your breasts while his right gripped the side of your hip, fucking himself into you at a speed you had yet to experience that night.
You tipped your forehead back to meet his eyes, his pupils blown out. “Cum for me, baby,” you moaned, the friction in your pussy pulling your coil back taught. “I want you to cum in me. Fill me up. I wanna feel you, please, I want it so bad.” 
At your words, his strokes only got faster, shorter, and hiccupped in rhythm. Bradley couldn’t speak: the only thought he had was to follow your plea. He pulled you tight to himself and spilled into you, his hot, heavy breath in your ear sending goosebumps down your arms. You shushed him as he moaned your name over and over, his hips sputtering into you. The feeling of him filling you was enough to settle the burning in the pit of your stomach, the flames dying out to a mere kindle.
You did your best from your position to comfort Bradley from his high, your fingers playing with his hair, your lips running along the curves and valleys of his strong arms. “You did amazing, hun,” you muttered, his small shakes and tremors running along your back. “I have you. I promise. I got you.”
He pulled you closer to him, breathing in your hair, your scent, your everything. The world slowly came back to focus to the point where he was able to dislodge himself, rolling on his back. You rolled back to your side of the bed and just laughed, garnering a chuckle from him as well.
“That was hot as fuck,” you said out loud, extending your hand out to the aviator. His grin was infectious, high fiving you in the process planted a chaste kiss on your palm to quell the burn. “Oh fuck yeah, we should do that again sometime.”
Rooster rolled on his side, a hand reaching to the bed stand beside him to click on the light. The warmth of the lamp rushed the room as he rummaged through a plate beside the bed, pulling a silver ring from the mess of notes and dog tags to place it back on his left ring finger. He wiggled his fingers, a whole man again, before dropping his wrist back to the bed. “Certainly spiced things up a little, don’t you think?”
Your own band was already back on your own left finger, giggles erupting from deep in your chest. “I can’t believe you even got Penny in on it, you pervert! Recreating the day we first met, the bar, the guys. Even the shirt.” Lo and behold, Bradley, the perfectionist he was, dug out the the exact same dumb Hawaiian shirt that he had wore the first time he took you for a drink after that fateful game of dogfight football. Where he introduced you to the Dagger squad. To where he piggybacked you home the whole way. To the first night you kissed and swore up and down you wouldn’t ever be with a Fly Boy.
But here you were, three years later, happily married, and freshly moved from your shared apartment in Virginia to your new home in the newly promoted Captain Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw’s station in North Island. 
He’ll be teaching advanced aerial maneuvers to the new incoming classes of Top Gun along with Hangman and Phoenix.
You reached your arms out to your husband, making a grabbing motion. “Come here, hot stuff, gimme some sugar.”
“I think I gave you enough sugar tonight, sugar,” he laughed, enveloping your form against his chest. You planted gentle kisses along his breast bone to rest right over his beating heart. You hung there in silence in his arms, naked, comfortable, warm.
You had almost thought by the way his breathing slowed that he had fallen asleep before you could clean up, but his voice whispered out from the dark when your own eyes had begun to drift. “Hey (y/n), I have a question for you.”
“What is it, love?”
“I love you. So much.”
You tilted your head up, an eyebrow raised. “Roo, that’s not a question, baby.”
“And it never will be.”
689 notes · View notes
katsu28 · 3 years ago
Text
looking forward
pairing: JJ Maybank x reader
summary: JJ and Y/N talk about what their future might hold
warnings: light swearing but I’m pretty sure that’s it
a/n: A short one this time, but I’ll be back with more in the next few weeks! I'm working on stuff that branches out from just Outer Banks, hopefully some of y'all are also into a few of the other shows I love :)
Hope everyone is having a good start to 2022!
(also this technically could be classified as non-canon JJ but oh well)
Tumblr media
(gif found on google, credits to owner)
You honestly weren’t expecting JJ to be good with kids, given the kind of shit he had to endure with Luke growing up. So when you were looped into watching your five year old niece one afternoon and JJ called you up for a beach day, you were surprised when he told you to bring her along with the two of you.
“Are you sure?” You asked for what had to be the twentieth time during your call with JJ, causing him to let out an overexaggerated sigh. “No, I just—I don’t want you to get stuck taking care of a kid on your day off!”
“Oh, I’m not taking care of her. You’re taking care of her.” He snorted, and you could hear him shuffling around on the other end of the line. “I just wanna enjoy a beach day with my beautiful girlfriend, and if the only way I get that is for you to bring your sister’s kid with us, then fuck yeah, bring the kid.” You rolled your eyes at JJ’s profanity, but smiled nonetheless. “Whaddya say, pretty girl? You in?”
“Yeah, I’m in.” You sighed, biting your lip. “Pick us up in 20?”
“Done deal, sweetheart. See you soon.”
That was this morning, and contrary to his insistence that he wouldn’t watch Delilah, he’d stuck with her the whole day, a total sucker for the puppy dog eyes that seemed to run in your family.
Right now, you were watching the two of them finish up building a sand village, because according to JJ, who the fuc—fudge wants to live in a castle when you can have your own village??
JJ was doing most of the building though, while Delilah wandered around the area for sticks and seashells. He didn’t take his eyes off the little girl, not even when you leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. Oh, Delilah definitely had JJ wrapped around her finger.
But then again, so did you.
Much later in the day, Delilah grew tired, falling asleep curled up between you and JJ on the beach blanket. You thought he’d take this chance to get in a surf session, but instead he leaned back on his elbows and posed a question that you never thought you’d hear come out of his mouth.
“Do you want kids?” He asked, craning his neck to peer over at you.
“I don’t know.” You answered after a few beats of silence, after you’d gotten over your initial shock. “Never really thought about it before. How ‘bout you?”
“One day, yeah.” His lips curled into an amused smile at your surprised stare. “I know, right? I didn’t think I’d wanna have any either. I guess I just always thought that I’d fuck up my kids like my dad fucked me up.” You could hear the bitterness lacing JJ’s tone at the mention of his asshole of a father, and you sifted your hand through his wild blond hair, letting it rest at the nape of his neck comfortingly. “But then I thought about it some more, and I realized I want it all.”
“All?” You questioned softly, tilting your head. The look in JJ’s eyes was hard to decipher as he held your gaze, but something about it was different than usual.
“Kids, dog, house with a damn white picket fence—a family. I want all that shit, baby. Everything you and I never had growing up, I want it. For both of us.”
You leaned over and kissed him, feeling at a loss for words but pouring everything you had into that kiss, wanting him to know that you wanted it too. With him.
When you pulled away at last, JJ looked dazed. You brought your hand from the back of his neck to rest against his cheek, rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip lovingly. That’s when you figured out the emotion in his eyes from just a few minutes ago—adoration. Love.
JJ wanted a life with you, a life that you’d never known he wanted. A life that you’d never known you wanted. Until now.
“We’d make some pretty fuckin’ cute babies, wouldn’t we?” JJ’s voice shook you out of your thoughts, and you aimed a pointed look at him, smacking his chest lightly at the smirk on his face. “Am I wrong? Look at you, look at me! We’re both hot as fuck. You’re telling me that you don’t think our kids are gonna be hot too?”
“Don’t call our future kids hot, babe. It’s weird.”
“Oh, come on. You know I’m right, you just don't wanna admit it.”
“Way to ruin the moment, J.”
Taglist!
@pogueslandia @purple-flamingo
778 notes · View notes
shivada-jade · 3 years ago
Text
reply back
modern!au/idol!au
characters: aether, lumine mentions: venti, xiao, kazuha, barbara, azhdaha warning(s): swearing because lumine and aether are siblings
notes: i've been lACKING these idol au's so im gonna write more idol au's because i nEEED it
You were seven when you were introduced to the twins. Coming from a foreign land, you struggled with the language they spoke in, but they were patient with you and taught you their language and much more. The twins were multilingual and explained it was from their frequent traveling and relatives from different places.
You and the twins were close, but Lumine spent more time with you, making Aether whine a lot. He would always poke sticks at you and hide your legendary, full art Pokemon cards to catch both Lumine's and your attention. It does work, but Lumine's mad.
"Aether!" She'd scream with a lisp because of a missing tooth. "Stop doing that!"
Oh, but Aether is a sibling, meaning he'd play the 'innocent' card. "Stop doing what? What am I doing?"
In the end, you'd always have to call their parents when they fist fight at the sand pit. "Aether and Lumine's mom! They're fighting again!"
"Again?" The tall blonde sighed. "Thanks for telling me, hon."
After a good scolding, Aether and Lumine would be totally okay the next minute like nothing happened. You were used to their banter and rightfully took your Pokemon cards back. Lumine stuck a tongue out, blowing a raspberry at Aether when he turned his back, grabbing three large sticks.
"Fight me!" He cried with glee, giving one stick to his sister and one to you. "I will be the grand king of the sand pit!"
You vaguely remember the rest. Maybe you lost the 'sword duel,' or maybe you didn't, but what you did remember was this tall kid playing with his cat and eating the sand. Forget the kid, the only thing you remember is his cat's name called Azhdaha.
Your hands close your story book. You would never admit to your friends, but Lumine and Aether that you still read fantasy. The other kids in the neighbourhood would laugh saying what you were reading is a kid's story.
"So what if it's a kid's story? If you like it, read it," Lumine says aggressively while Aether opens the door for both of you.
"Lumi's right. They think they're all grown up, but they're kids too," he closes the door behind him, waving goodbye to your grandma rocking on the porch. "What's the story about anyway?"
You walk ahead, leading the two to a local mall. Every week, Aether, Lumine and yourself would spend Fridays and Saturdays together.
You and Lumine often joke how Aether doesn't do 'Saturdays are for the boys.' To which, Aether would scoff and reply with, "Boys who say that are stupid, not all but most. Saturdays are for spending time with people you care about. I don't care if they think I'm weak."
You step foot in the bus, tapping the card to pay for your admission. The twins, walk behind, doing the same and sitting next to you on the bus.
"It's called 'Songs of a Siren.' It's cool, you should check it out." You say, scooting a bit closer to the side so Lumine could have more pace to sit. The bus is packed. Teenagers littered inside, only a few adults were there including the bus driver. "Let's leave. Teenagers stink."
"...But you are one."
"Well-"
After the next stop, you push yourself through the crowd, trying to exit. Lumine pushes people, muttering a few 'excuse us' while dragging her brother. Your feet land on the concrete sidewalk and you finally breathe freely.
You see the twins finally get off the bus and tilt your head, "Let's go, the mall isn't gonna wait for us."
Entering the mall, the first thing you pass by is a clothes shop. You and Aether share a look, quietly doing rock-paper-scissors behind Lumine who's beaming to go inside.
Rock.
Aether chooses paper.
You droop to the floor because you're dramatic, knowing that once you go in the shop, you'll be the one carrying Lumine's purchases.
"Alright, Lumine," you say sighing. "Let's go shop."
You see Aether in your peripheral vision, pumping his fist laughing a quiet, "Yes!" when Lumine takes out her wallet.
"I know you did rock-paper-scissors." She counts the bills from her wallet, "But I'm buying for Aether which means even if you carry the things I buy, Aether's gonna have it much worse because he will be trying on everything I tell him to wear." She grins, settling with a black debit card.
After hearing this, Aether tries to walk in another shop to avoid dressing up for Lumine, but his sister quickly catches on and pulls him by the ear and walks in the clothes shop.
"Let's go!" She says to you, "These clothes won't shop themselves!"
...
"This one?"
"No, you look like grandpa in that outfit."
"Well what if I like looking like grandpa, huh? What are you gonna do about it?"
"Some people can pull off the sexy grandpa look. You're not 'some people.'" Lumine pulls out another outfit from the rack. "Try this one," she laughs, seeing Aether's horrified face and pushes him in the dressing area.
This is the ninth clothes shop you three go to, and you were starting to feel bad for Aether who had to wear every outfit Lumine wanted him to wear.
"Lumi," you say calmly, having trouble holding five shopping bags on each arm. She's on a shopping spree and you wonder how she gets all the money to buy these things. "That should be enough shopping for the day. I'm hungry."
The blonde lifts a hand. "Hold on a second," she smiles before banging on the changeroom door, "AETHER LET ME SEE THE FIT."
You can hear the loud sigh from the other side of the door as it slowly opens. He only peeks his head out, shyly mumbling, "This is embarrassing. I don't want to walk out like this."
Lumine rolls her eyes and pulls the door open, revealing Aether in a white dress shirt and dark pants.
Aether lifts an arm, inspecting the design. "It's a bit..." he pauses, thinking of a way to not offend his sister. "It's not my style." His eyes seek for your help to back him up, but you couldn't. The style on him looks so ethereal to him, and Lumine has the same idea.
His twin ran up to an aisle and picked out two accessories: a silk cloth and a floral pin. Lumine shushes Aether who tried to punch her.
"Shut up Aether, you'll look great." She pins the black rose onto the front of his shirt and ties the silk cloth around his neck. She steps a few steps back, making a rectangle shape to symbolize a picture frame and elbows you lightly. "He looks okay for once."
Okay is underwhelming, but to describe Aether better, he looks celestial. The warm studio lights hug every angle of Aether from head to toe. His golden eyes seem to brighten more and the outfit only accentuates his physical traits more.
From the corner of your eye you spot a tall-ish man who has been wandering past the same aisle but never picking anything up. He wears ordinary clothes- a T-shirt and jeans (rather stylishly), but you know from his incoming aura he's more than just an ordinary person.
You tap Lumine discreetly while still holding onto her shopping bags and tilt your head towards the man.
Aether, who keeps picking on the cloth around his neck goes frigid when the strange man walks up to him.
"Hey kid," he says cooly. He looks Aether up and down, lifting his shades to see clearer, and pulls out a small business card from his pocket. "You look like idol material. Ever thought about being a part of a boyband?"
Out of politeness, Aether takes the card and laughs nervously, "Not really" He looks at Lumine and you for help, but you two pretend to not know him when he turns to you.
The man shoves his hands in his pocket, blowing a bubblegum and popping it. His hair slightly tousles when he turns, waving a hand.
"If you ever do decide if you wanna be an idol, auditions are held next week at 10AM," he saunters off. "If they ask who recruited you, tell them a man by the name of Valentin did."
His lavender irises looks back once more before leaving the store, "The people from Teyvat Entertainment are introduced by my very hands. Don't disappoint me."
The automatic sliding doors open for him and he waves the store greeter a goodbye.
You see Aether's eyes scanning over he card Valentin gave. His lashes flutter quickly, signaling you and Lumine he was either shocked, or confused.
Lumine grabbed the paper, a habit she picked up due to being a twin and having to share everything with Aether who won't share. Her lips part, showing the card to you.
Teyvat Entertainment.
A company who created the world's famous DCKZ and the idol, Barbara. Teyvat Ent. has one of the youngest, top rookies of the year because of a group called TVT Dream. A company with many celebrities' and the business card is legit.
A store worker no older than your age meekly walks up to the three of you and asks, "Hey, uh. Are you ready to purchase your clothes?"
...
Aether shoves Lumine (don't worry she shoves him 10x harder) on the stairs while you watch from a safe distance.
You wave hello to their mom before waltzing into their home like you did many other times. You were their third child in their mom's eyes.
You slam the twins' room open and lay yourself on the bottom bunk of their bunkbed. "So do you wanna check Teyvat Entertainment?"
You fish out your phone from your pocket and hand signal for Aether and Lumine to come close to see. Your phone turns on, showing the lock screen of the twins in their embarrassing toddler moments then unlock it. Quietly laughing at the twins who have their faces beet red from the photograph.
"Why do you have that pic? DELETE IT."
"Did mom give that to you..."
You ignore them, opening up Google and typing in the Teyvat Ent. website and search their contacts. You ask Aether for the business card, comparing the two numbers side by side, and Valentin is indeed one of the scouts for the company.
You shut your phone off, hugging the two siblings together tightly. "Whether Aether decides he wants to be an idol or not, we'll still be the best of friends."
Lumine grins, squishing your cheeks, taking a closer look at you. "Well, duh. Are you scared we'll fall apart? No, if anything you should be scared we're never going to leave you alone even if you're 60 and married."
You pinch her cheeks and start to say something until you hear sniffles and coughing. You turn to Aether who was hiding his tears.
"Shut up, I'm not crying." He harshly wipes away the water falling from his eyes, "When I go famous, I'm going to give you my autograph so you can sell it and eventually get 20 cars and houses."
...
You were a teen when the dark-haired Valentin scouted Aether to be a trainee in Teyvat Ent.
You note that without Aether, their home is extremely quiet. It's odd not seeing Lumine scream at Aether for taking her hair clips. It's odd not seeing Lumine aggressively pull on the colourful flower hairclips on Aether's hair, just to get the clips back. It's so odd not seeing Aether is general.
Lumine scrolls through her phone, looking for furniture to add to her new apartment she shares with you. The only thing in the newly bought apartment is three mattresses, three plates, and three cups, just in case Aether visits. Though, Aether visiting is rare. His visits only happen during December for Christmas, but even then he had not visited. It's been two years since you and Lumine last saw him.
You stare at your last sent messages to the blonde boy.
▶ hEY. (threatening)
YO
▶ take care okay? lumine's worrying all the time for ur health bc she keeps watching yt vids on how idols over-do themselves from training
haha thanks for telling me
are you sure it's not you who's worrying 🧐🤧
the last thing lumi sent to me was "FUCK YOU"
▶ well the last thing you sent to her was "U BUTT"
▶ and she took that seriously
are you siding with her?
▶ yes
oh okay, frick you too seen three months ago
Your feet pad against the wooden tiles, grabbing a glass of water while scrolling through twitter. You lift the glass to your lips and almost choke from the water you drink.
You click the link on the phone with the title "Debuting boy band already claiming the hearts of many! Please welcome 4nemo!" Four boys stand in the picture, one being Aether.
You place your glass to the sink and run to Lumine, sitting next to her and who her your phone. She reads it over and visibly shakes. You swear she was about to cry until she takes the phone from your hand and starts throwing it, "AETHER THAT BITCH. HE DEBUTES AND SAYS NOTHING."
You're mortified and pull your friend away from your phone, "THAT'S A NEW PHONE, STOP." You push her away and run to your device, clicking on the link.
"One, two, three! Hello we are," Aether, the familiar blonde says.
His group members follow after him. "4nemo!" They say in chorus. One by one they start introducing themselves.
"Hi I'm Aether!"
"Kazuha," one says with a raise of a hand.
An energetic member steps up with a grin, "And I'm Barbisabeto!"
"He's Barbatos, forgive him." Teal undertones make it's way to the camera, "Hello, I'm Xiao.
The one with twin braids step up, mischievously grinning. "Please take care of us and support us during our journey through the music industry."
His teal eyes squint behind the camera, whispering to the member behind him. "Psst, Xiao. I can't read I'm blind."
Xiao rolls his eyes and steps up, slightly bowing, "Please support our debuting group, we will see you in our music videos."
But Lumine and you never paid attention to what they were saying. Both of you just started crying insults of endearment to Aether because he looks so... different. His face had mature and he's a real idol now.
Reality sinks in.
Now that Aether had a growing fanbase, it's going to be harder to contact him.
"Lumine, how are we going to talk to him now?"
Lumine ponders a bit, resting her chin on her hand before smirking. "Let's create an Aether hate page."
"Yes, let's do it."
After a quick recording of Lumine and yourself, you posted the video online, and soon enough, it goes viral.
Lumine laughs, replaying the video.
"This one's for the boys with the booming system," You say monotonously in front of the camera like what you said was a speech instead of a song. "Top down, AC with the cooler system."
Lumine comes on screen, flipping her middle finger at the camera. "When he come up in the club, he be blazin' up. This one is actually not for the boys with the booming system. This is for the BITCH, AETHER WITH THE BLONDE BRAID. Look at you with your ugly ass smile," She speaks in one breath and it amazes you. "Make sure you get millions of hits or it's all for nothing. Oh Aether's an ass."
The screen shows your hand scooping the phone up and waving good bye with Lumine still dissing Aether.
You nudge Lumine, showing a comment written at the bottom of the video, covering a laugh.
"who's aether?"
"huh??! aether?"
"lOL Why Does The Person On The Left Look Like Aether?"
"OH 4NEMO DABUTE. SHUTUP YOU ANTI. THEY'RE GORGEOUS. YOU'RE THE ONE UFLY" ➡ "ahisfdh you obvi didnt watch the whole video. she said "make sure get millions of hits"
Lumine grins, commenting at the people calling her ugly and Aether way better looking. "Lol, IKR. the one on the left is trying too hard to look like Aether. it's like shes tryna be a twin or smthn"
Though, because of your viral "hate" video, 4nemo's popularity sky rockets because of the unknown 'Aether' of the group.
...
Aether watches the video on the news channel, because that's how popular the video got. He looks at his manager, "Can I send a hate video back?"
"Aether, no."
But the winds are troublesome as the ocean, because a boy with teal tips on his hair snatched the managers phone, running and giving it to Aether. "AETHER. DO IT RIGHT NOW."
...
It was a shock to you seeing people follow your twitter account.
"LUMI, [NAME], IM SRRY I LOST MY PHONE AND DIDNT WANNA TELL ANY1 OR THEYLL GROUND ME," said the tweet, tagging you in comments.
Lumine doesn't have twitter, so when she looks over your shoulder seeing the tweet with her name on, she grabs the phone and locks herself in the bathroom, "R U FR AETHER?U DIDNT REPLY TO MY HAPPY BDAY. WE SHARE A BDAY DUMBASS"
She calmly unlocks the door, giving your phone back casually while you whine, "Lumine! This is twitter! They're gonna cancel me!"
"I'll cancel them back."
Ding! You receive a post with you name under the comments again.
hello, i have to apologize for our member stealing the manager's phone to tweet that. i swear that kid's the most responsible, but he's been triggered. #kazuha
You quickly type back, under the hashtag 'kazuha.'
"@/4nemo sorry uh thats one of ur members twin & shes mad that aether never gave her a bday present when she gave 1 to him #kazuha"
notes: psst here's where i got aether's outfit inspo when they were outfit changing at the mall
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hyunverse · 4 years ago
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BUNGA (FLOWER) | FUSHIGURO MEGUMI
gender neutral.
summary; you’re megumi’s dream person.
note; i wrote this bcs my birth name is actually a type of flower ugh the self indulgence also i like butterflies. also inspired by a song called bunga by masdo. i recommend listening to the song while reading. bunga means flower in malay!! also pls open the gif for better quality.
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YOU REMIND MEGUMI OF A FLOWER. white orchids; they symbolize purity. and that’s exactly what you are to him.
fushiguro megumi remembers this one day when he and tsumiki had went to a flower garden together. he didn’t know why tsumiki suddenly felt like visiting a garden, but he followed anyway. he observed as his sister looked at the flowers around them, a smile never leaving her face and her eyes were practically sparkling. it felt nice to see his sister actually enjoy herself, especially after their parents got up and abandoned them, leaving tsumiki with all the house chores.
“look at all these flowers!”, tsumiki caressed the petals with her fingers, thumb gently gliding over the flowers, “they look so nice, don’t you think so megumi?”
megumi didn’t reply, he opted to stand beside his older sister. tsumiki explained the symbolisms of the flowers she knew of. the raven head looked stoic, as if he wasn’t listening to any of her words but the truth is, he was. he found the symbolism behind the white orchids particularly interesting. it suited the orchids’ physical appearance. white and innocence just made sense.
as the siblings chatted (though it technically was one sided on tsumiki’s part), a cat walked towards the duo. the ball of orange fur purred and nudged it’s head on tsumiki’s legs, immediately getting the teenage girl’s attention. she kneeled down, her previous smile growing wider.
petting the cat, she looked up at her younger brother, “aren’t cats so adorable?”.
“yeah,” megumi uttered. a lie. he wasn’t a big fan of cats, he found them annoying. dogs are better, that’s what he believed in but he didn’t have the heart to say that to his sister. not when she looks the happiest she had been in a while.
“and the weather’s really nice today!”, she added, eyes glancing up at the sky. the sun was glaring right into her eyes, so her pupils shrunk. she didn’t mind however, she had always loved sunny days. the sunlight shone right above their heads, and megumi didn’t like it. he could feel drops of sweat trickling down his back, causing his shirt to cling onto his skin. megumi much prefers when it’s cloudy, shades of grey in the sky, the perfect weather for staying at home and reading books.
even so, he just nodded, “mhm.”
shortly the sun started to set, spreading orange hues throughout the sky. flocks of birds returned to their nests, and so the fushiguro siblings made their way back to their abode. on their way tsumiki stole glances at her brother, letting out a dry chuckle everytime she notices the lack of expression on his face.
“you should smile more you know, megumi”, she ruffled his erratic hair, “you won’t get much friends if you keep on frowning like that”, she teased.
he grumbled, “i don’t care if i don’t have friends.”
megumi thought it was ridiculous. why would it matter, anyway? he’s fine being alone. people are bothersome; they’re too loud and they stress him out. especially the stupid punks in school who thinks they could do whatever they want. megumi simply shrugged and pushed his sister’s words out of his mind. scratch smiling and being likeable.
yet here he is, smiling at you. over no particular reason too.
currently, he’s walking along a beach with you. you; dressed up in a white sundress, a pair of sandals in your right hand. the sand burns under fushiguro’s feet but he couldn’t feel it over the fast thumping of his heart, he couldn’t feel the heat when his whole skin is tingling. he trolls behind you, walking over the footsteps you made. your sundress flows to the rhythm of your walk, flying slightly up when the wind blows your way, exposing the plush skin of your thighs. fushiguro looks away from your figure, his fair complexion tinted with blush.
you’re his best friend, he’s not supposed to look at you like that.
“it’s so nice here, megumi!”, you call out to him as you stand at the edge of the sea. waves crash, they trickle up to your toes. with a smile you hold up your hand for megumi to hold.
bashfully, megumi walks up to you and takes your hand in his. he’s reluctant, for he dislikes his hands. they’re cold and filled with callouses. so when you grip his hand as though you didn’t intend to let go, when your thumb rubs against his, he feels less insecure of his hands. the sensation of your hand in his is hot, it burns; however it feels nice.
megumi fushiguro hates warmth, but if it’s your warmth, he’d enjoy burning in heat.
the sand by the sea doesn’t feel hot on your feet. the waves get bigger and bigger; till they reach up to your ankles. you giggle because it tickled, the sound of your laughs reaching megumi’s ears. he turns to his side to see you crouching down, collecting the water in your hands.
that’s when megumi concluded, your whole existence screams purity.
a week later megumi meets you again. sometime at 11pm, by an oak tree—your usual meeting spot. the oak tree is large, it’s impossible to miss it. you stand under the oak tree, allowing dried leaves to fall onto your head, getting stuck in your hair. you know megumi would get all the leaves out of your hair. he does it everytime. he’ll pick out all the leaves out of your hair while lecturing you, though his words enter one ear then out from another. no matter how many times he says “i can’t do this all the time”, even he himself knows he would.
from afar megumi watches his best friend run around the flower field, chasing butterflies. your hair gets swept away by the wind as your hands stretch up to the sky, desperately trying to get a butterfly to land on your hand. you’re wearing a jumpsuit, the white color of the material truly brought out your skin tone. your complexion is glistening, and it makes megumi’s heart throb.
“they’re scared of you, y/n,” he finally says, putting both your hands down. the butterflies fly away from your sight, and you pout.
“but they’re so pretty,” you sigh, watching as the butterflies choose to fly anywhere but on your fingers. and then one lands on top of megumi’s shoulder.
your eyes widen, holding the sides of megumi’s figure to make him stay still. megumi could see sparks in your eyes when you admire the blue butterfly. soft is the expression you wear on your face. he likes it on you. that cute expression of yours makes megumi fall five times harder for you even when he knows he shouldn’t.
“you’re like a flower ‘gumi. it likes you.”
ridiculous, he thinks. you’re the flower. it’s obvious by the way your body moves under the moonlight, and how insanely beautiful you are.
fushiguro megumi doesn’t say anything in return, as always. he rarely does. if possible, he wants to avoid you from finding out just how in love he is with you.
after that day, you never show up under the oak tree, a few minutes distance from jujutsu high. he’ll wait for hours long only to be disappointed.
--at least not until his birthday comes, about a few months later. his face turns pale once he spotted you. you wait by the jujutsu high gate with a wide smile on his face, as if you didn’t ghost him for three months.
"glad to see you doing okay," the apple of your cheeks seem more prominent when you smile, megumi feels an urge to kiss them.
"i haven't seen you in so long," megumi mumbles, "happy to see you here today."
you grin and hold up your hand for him to take per usual, and didn’t mutter anymore words until the two of you reach a café in the outskirts of tokyo.
“nice café,” the raven comments , glancing at you. you’re wearing a puffy sleeved white blouse now—honestly, do you only own white clothes?
“found it on instagram”, you mutter, “i thought you’d like it. happy birthday, megumi.”
megumi smiles for the first time today. as a jazz song plays, he eats the birthday cake you purchased for him quietly. the cake tastes delicious (to be fair, anything you buy him is perfect) because it’s not too sweet. the fact that you remember his preference makes his smile grow a little wider.
you hum to the song and rest your head on his shoulder. it seems like the two of you are the only ones in the café—a much needed privacy. you’re usually touchy with him, and he prefers affection to be private. typically they make megumi blush, and he doesn’t want people to witness him all flustered.
“did you miss me, megumi?”, he replies to your question by nodding and placing his hand on top of yours.
serenity is this feeling, megumi thinks.
at the corner of the café stands an antique grandfather clock. it’s sounds are so loud, they resonate the whole environment. megumi suddenly becomes hyper aware of the sound, there’s a pounding in his head. the sound becomes louder and louder, to the point where megumi couldn’t feel your skin under his. he shuts his eyes close, an impossibly bright light glares his eyes.
“fushiguroooo!”, an annoying voice yells. itadori’s voice, megumi is certain.
the pounding in his head slows down. his sapphire eyes flutter open, and he realizes the light he saw was sunlight rays peeking through his blinds.
“seriously fushiguro, we’ve been calling you for an hour now. hurry up, we’re going out to eat in five. to celebrate your birthday”, megumi looks up to see nobara standing behind itadori. 
they’re both leaning against his door frame. itadori is dressed in a yellow hoodie, while nobara rocks a coat over a turtleneck. the female sorcerer holds her toy hammer tight in her grip, her eyes boring through megumi’s figure. by her posture, megumi guesses she was about to hit him with the squeaky hammer if only he didn’t wake up sooner.
fucking menaces, they could’ve left him to sleep for a little more. he hasn’t seen you in so long, he wanted to sleep in to spend time with you.
finally rubbing his eyes awake, the boy looks at the vase of orchids sitting on his nightstand. he sighs before standing up.
megumi will find you someday, he promises. if you’re a flower, he’ll gladly be the butterfly.
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✉ taglist: @aliteama @dearsukuna @cybergoo @hanniemilk @ariasann @soulasdarkascoffee @okusetomura @eidotheiapriv @maat-the-prescriptive @etoilezone @elipres @scarednekozz @iridescentkitsune @crapimahuman @nectar0sw33t @hq149 @bluedelphinium @bokutos-babyowl @behan @tdntu0 @sunaluvs @guardianangelswings @fairywriter-oracle @inu-makki @erinisbadger
tagging; @candleohappiness , @haru-senji <333
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afriendlyblackhottie · 4 years ago
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Gorgeous
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Summary: You’d spent the last year and a half pretending to hate Ransom Drysdale. One Christmas trip could break that facade.
Pairings: Ransom Drysdale x Plus Size!Black!Reader (though it’s pretty inclusive. It’s just what I had in my head when I wrote it)
Warnings: And there was only one bed, enemies to lovers, fluff, smut, swearing, secret crush, daddy kink
Words: 7K
(A/N: Yes. I pretty much wrote a Hallmark movie. Yes it is also based on Gorgeous by Taylor Swift because I’d also hate Ransom Drysdale for making me fall in love with his stupidly handsome face. No I will not be taking questions.)
Tagging: @titty-teetee @queenoftheworldisdead @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @mariahthelioness29 @donutloverxo @navybrat817​ @stargazingfangirl18​ @hqneyyincc​ @iam-laiya​ @zaddychris​ @emjayewrites​
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Contrary to popular belief, you didn’t hate Ransom. Sure, his smug smile made you want to punch him in the face sometimes. But you kind of liked the vein that popped out on the side of his head when you did something to irritate him. Or the way he rolled his eyes at you when you did something to annoy him. And you annoyed him a lot. It was like you couldn’t help yourself.
To be honest you kind of like those things too much. Not that you’d ever admit it out loud. Imagine everyone finding out that you had some little primary school like crush on this asshole. Down to the point where you’d push him into sand to prove that you didn’t like him in the slightest.
Since your best friend was marrying his best friend, you were spending way too much time with him. You thought you’d done a good job at convincing Monica, your best friend, that you absolutely couldn’t stand him. She seemed to buy it since every eye roll was appropriately placed anytime you thought you might laugh at one of his rude jokes.
So, when your best friend asked you to accompany her and her fiancé to visit his family, you were positive. It might be nice seeing how these super rich people did the holidays. You’d met them a few times and they’d been super nice. Nothing like how Ransom or your own boyfriend’s family came off as stuck up as hell. Also, you were kind of dying to see the decor.
Until that day came. “I’m sorry!” Ava said for the millionth time since she’d told you the news when she’d FaceTimed you. That not only was Ransom coming, you’d have to ride with him in his Beemer because she’d packed more than she’d expected and there’d be no more room in Simon’s car.
You groaned softly, wrinkling up your nose. Your cats rubbing themselves against you because they knew you were leaving and loved to get all needy when you did that. You were already having a hard morning so this was kind of the last thing that you needed. “Maybe I shouldn’t go,” you suggested, even though you were supposed to be leaving in about five minutes.
She pouted. “But I need you there so I won’t be bored.”
“You know David,” your own boyfriend who was not going with you because he had to work and also because you weren’t sure he’d be your boyfriend by the time you came home, “hates Ransom.” It still made for a good excuse, though.
“What he won’t know, won’t kill him?” She shrugged. “Look it won’t even be that bad! It’s just the car ride.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, for four hours.”
“Just do this for me,” she whined. “Please. I’d do it for you.”
“Fine, but next time my boss has one of those boring dinners at his house, I’m making you go with me.”
She gasped. “Deal!”
There was a honk outside and it was safe to say who it was. You rolled your eyes. “You’re so lucky I love you because I’m already annoyed.” You peeked outside the window to see him aggressively honking.
Fucking asshole.
Once you’d hung up with Ava, you grabbed your bags so you could hurry out of the house. Luckily David was already at work so you didn’t have to explain to him why you were getting in the car with him. Ransom seemed to like getting under his skin, which you’d noticed is what he did to most people. Including you, but it seemed to be for a different reason than most people had.
“Hey,” you greeted him, as you struggled to carry your stuff to the trunk. Even though you were trying to keep this facade up, you didn’t want to be rude.
“Can you hurry? We’re on a strict timeline, Buttercup.”
You hated when he called you that. “First, don’t call me that. Second, maybe I’d finish sooner if you’d help.”
There was this smirk on his lips as he finally opened up his car door so he could take one of the bags out of your hands and then the others. “Did you pack your entire closet?” He asked as he tried to make it all fit in the trunk.
“I have a lot of needs,” you retorted.
“That’s probably why you need that sugar daddy, huh,” he said. This is why David didn’t like him. Okay yeah maybe you’re twenty-six with a forty-seven-year-old boyfriend. Sure, he brought you nice things, but what was wrong with that.
“He’s my boyfriend,” you made a point to emphasize. You weren’t going to tell Ransom Drysdale that you were with your boyfriend because he was your daddy dom. That’d be fucking stupid.
“Look, sugar daddy boyfriend whatever,” he said, dismissing you. “I just think you should pack lighter.”
“Whatever. Aren’t we on a tight schedule or something?” You rolled your eyes before going over to the passenger seat.
“Hey, hey, hey!” He stopped you to open the door himself. “I don’t need you to scratch my shit. You have to handle with care.”
You tried not to laugh which made you bite your bottom lip instead making you taste the mint chapstick you’d just put on. “You’re such a control freak,” you said, having to brush passed him so you could sit.
He didn’t say anything as he closed it gently.
The ride had been pretty boring so far. You yawned a few times. Wiggled in your seat trying to get comfortable. He surprisingly pulled over to get you coffee and even got you your blanket so you could curl up at some point.
If you weren’t trying to hate him, you may have swooned. He also said it’s because he didn’t feel like hearing you complain so maybe less swooning anyway. You reached for the radio and he smacked your hand away. “Ow!” You gasped.
“I’m just fucking with you.” He laughed, glancing over as you glared at him.
“Dick,” you mumbled under your breath as you reached forward again to change the station.
“What was that?” He asked.
“I said you’re a dick,” you repeated, sitting down as a song you liked started playing.
He groaned. “I hate this song.”
“Too bad,” you snickered.
“Need I remind you that this is my car, Buttercup?”
You narrowed your eyes at him because he called you that damn nickname. “Whatever. At least it wasn’t that Dad stuff you listen to.”
“Should you really be the one making fun of Dads?” He laughed.
“Hey! David doesn’t even want kids.”
He raised his eyebrow. “You don’t?” He asked looking genuinely surprised at that.
“I mean... maybe. I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Do you?”
“Well, I hate kids, but maybe for the right women. Who knows?” He once again took a quick glance at you, with this small dorky smile on his face.
That was surprising. You felt yourself starting to get to where your heart was swelling in your chest. “Why are we talking about this, you weirdo.”
He chuckled as you cross your arms in front of your chest as you looked out the window.
For the rest of the car ride only the music filled the silence. You wanted to say something. Thought about at least trying. Every time you started to open your mouth no sound came out.
You’d look at him while he focused on the road. Just because you couldn’t like him didn’t mean you couldn’t look at him, right? Though it was bothering you that there was a hole in his cashmere sweater.
“I’ll open your door,” he said getting out. You waited for him to open your side, but you heard the trunk pop open. You turned around watching him take out your four bags along with his. How the fuck was he so strong.
He opened up your car door finally. “Do you want me to take some?” You asked him with a frown as he closed the door with his elbow.
“It’s okay,” he replied already walking off. You scurried behind him trying to catch up.
Ava and Simon were right behind you. Ave got out and went to hug you. “See I told you it wouldn’t be so bad,” she said. “Wait why is Random holding all your stuff?”
You shrugged. “He insisted.”
“Weird,” she replied.
Simon’s family was pretty nice, but they were so busy doting on the happy couple you were kind of ignored. It was actually kind of nice because when you met David’s family, they pretty much scrutinized everything you did. His mother was honestly the bane of your existence. Like, lady, if your son hadn’t had a kid by now how was that your fault.
That was another thing that made you treat Ransom the way you did. You’d met Linda a few times now and she already hated you. You could only imagine how she was towards his girlfriends. You’d only seen the tip of the iceberg of the insanity of the Thrombeys, though Harlan had been nice every time you’d met him.
“Okay, so, it turns out that one of Simon’s cousins decided to come at last minute and uh,” Ava took a deep breath, “you two have to share a room okay, bye!” She tried to grab Simon’s hand, but you managed to catch her first.
“What,” you said a little too loudly so you lower your voice, “the hell, Ava.”
“You’re shitting me,” Ransom groaned.
“It won’t be so bad just think of it as a sleepover. Maybe he can paint your nails and you two can do face masks together,” she started rambling off.
You weren’t as amused. “Or maybe me and you could share.”
“Hell no! I’ve slept in a bed with you. You’re a cuddler.” She frowned. “Besides I wanna sleep with my boo.”
“You’re the worst best friend ever,” you told her. “Fine, but he’s sleeping on the floor.”
“Like hell I am,” Ransom said.
“I have a boyfriend!” You reminded them. “I can’t sleep in a bed with another guy. Especially Ransom.”
He raised an eyebrow. “We’ve been over this, Buttercup. You don’t have a boyfriend; you have a sugar daddy.”
You huffed. “Alright that’s it I’m calling an Uber.”
“And paying a hundred bucks to get home?” Ava rolled her eyes. “Come on just tough it out.”
“I hope you know that I hate you now,” you told her.
“Good. We’ll work it out in couple’s therapy.”
—————
The first night was awful. It felt like you couldn’t sleep. While Ransom seemed to sleep like a baby on the other side of the wall of pillows, you’d built between the two of you.
Even when you’d tried to move away from him, he’d just hold you in place. At some point you just had to accept your fate. At least you were cozy. So, you just kind of let it happen because who knows if this could again. When you actually woke up, he was already gone. You were neatly tucked under the comforter.
As you were finishing up your face routine and making yourself look presentable, Ransom was coming back in. You’d never seen him with sweats on before because he was usually such a preppy asshole, but he looked good. “Morning.”
“Morning,” you mumbled.
“How’d you sleep?” He asked.
You raised an eyebrow. “Why? You didn’t do something did you?”
“Me? Never?” He smirked before walking passed you and into the bathroom.
You walked through the house, taking in the way everything was beautifully decorated for the holiday. Honestly this place was house porn. “Good morning!” Simon’s mom, Trish, greeted you as you walked into the kitchen.
“Good morning,” you replied with a grin.
“Did you sleep okay?”
You nodded. “Yeah, it was perfect,” you answered.
“Breakfast will be ready soon so why don’t you go wake up Simon and Ava.”
You nodded. “Yeah of course.” God they were too nice. Maybe you need to be around rich people more often.
Oh wait, no. David’s family came from money and they were awful. Also see Ransom.
Simon had come to answer the door, freshly showered. Ava was just coming out of the bathroom. “Morning,” he said.
“Morning. Your mom said breakfast is going to be ready.”
He nodded. “Okay. Babe, you ready?”
“You go ahead,” she told him. “Y/N, c’mere.”
You and Simon exchanged looks and he shrugged. “Guess I’ll get Ransom.”
Ava waited until he was completely out of the room before motioning for you to close the door. “So,” this shit eating grin appeared on her face, “how was it?”
“How was what?”
“Sleeping with Ransom.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “How was it?”
You shrugged. “We put a pillow wall up.” You really didn’t want to mention the cuddling.
“What? That’s it?” She groaned. “I always thought he’d be a bed hog.”
“I stayed on my side, he stayed on his.”
“That’s boring. I at least thought you’d have something to talk shit about.” She sighed. As far as you knew her and Ransom got along. She just found it super entertaining how you bitched about him.
The two of you went to sit in the dining room, waiting for everyone else. Trish sat down not to long after bringing the two of you mimosas. “Oh my gosh thank you!” Ava said getting up to hug her mother-in-law.
“Of course, Sweetheart.” She grinned. “So, Y/N, how long have you and Ransom been together?” She winked, bringing her champagne flute to her mouth. “I always said that Ransom just needs to find a sweet girl to settle down with. Maybe melt down that cold exterior he puts up. You know he really is a sweet boy.”
It was a good thing you hadn’t even been able to take a sip because you probably would have choked on it. “Her and Ransom aren’t together,” Ava answered before you could.
Her jaw dropped. “Oh, I just thought because you were fine sharing a room.”
You shook your head. “It’s okay.”
Ransom took a seat beside you while Simon sat on the other side of Ava. Trish looked between the two of you because this table was huge and Ransom could have sat anywhere else. He could have sat on the other side of Simon if he’d wanted to.
Breakfast went by pretty uneventfully, though the pancakes the housekeeper made were kind of to die for. “So, what are you kids planning for today?” Simon’s dad, Warren, asked as plates started being cleared away.
“Well, Ava’s never been ice skating,” Simon said.
“That’ll be fun,” Trish said. To be honest you were kind of nervous about ice skating. You’d done it before, but ate shit hard. “Is this your first time, too?” She asked you.
“No,” you replied. “I’m not very good at it, though.”
“I’m sure Ransom can help you,” she said with a grin.
Ransom groaned softly beside you. “Yeah of course.”
  As soon as you got on the ice you could feel yourself going down. Ransom grabbed onto you to hold you up. “Don’t eat shit on me already,” he said with a smirk on his face.
“If I go down, I’m taking you with me,” you snap back at him.
He rolled his eyes. “Let’s just get this over with.”
It was a good thing you’d bought these leggings that were fluffy on the inside and this jacket you were wearing was cozy because it was freezing out here. Ransom had to
At some point you kind of started to think that you had the hang of it. Like maybe you could actually do it. He started to slowly let go of you, but the minute you started to feel unsteady he’d grab your hand. “Thanks.”
“No problem,” he said sighing softy. He stood for a minute holding your hand so he could skate with you to the middle of the rink. “Hey can we talk about something. Really quick?”
You nodded. “Sure.”
“Hey, so,” he looked down at you with this almost nervous look on his face. “There’s been something I wanted to say, but I wasn’t really sure how to before.”
You nodded. “Yeah, what’s up.”
“Um,” he sighed. “Well, okay, so I-“ well he didn’t get to finish as this asshole barreled into you. “Y/N!”
You hit the ice pretty hard almost bouncing up as you came back down. “What the hell!”
Ransom immediately helped you up. “Watch where you’re fucking going!” He yelled back after the guy who’d already started skating away without even saying sorry. “Are you okay?
“My leg like hurts really bad,” you felt yourself tear up because you’re a little baby.
He sighed. “Shit, okay,” he said. “Are you okay to stand?”
“Oh my gosh!” Ava came over to the two of you. “Are you okay? I told Simon to go tell security. That guys been such an asshole this whole time.”
“Yeah thanks,” you said.
“Here why don’t we got some hot chocolate,” Ransom said.
It felt so nice being back in your boots. Ransom had you sit before going to get the drinks. You couldn’t help yourself as you rubbed over the spot on your leg that had been hurting super bad. Wincing at the tenderness.
“How’s your leg?” Ransom asked, sitting beside you with the steaming beverages in hand.
You brought your cup up to your mouth loving the warmth against your cold nose. “It’s fine,” you answered.
He reached down to touch the spot making you jump. He laughed. “Wow usually I have to get a girl naked before they start reacting like that.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to play off as annoyed, but it didn’t work since you couldn’t help yourself as a smile spread on your face. “Oh, shut up.” You blew at the steam before taking a sip. “So, what did you wanna talk to me about?”
“It’s.... it’s nothing,” he said picking at some lint on his coat, suddenly getting all quiet. He took a sip of his own drink.
Here’s where you made a mistake. Which is the mistake that got you into this in the first place. Because every time you looked into his eyes, seeing those long lashes framing those deep blue eyes made you feel like you might drown in them.
And you fucking looked into them. After that first time you told yourself to never do that again. That it’s what made you trick yourself into thinking that you liked him the first time. No. He was just so close.
You pretty much fought yourself on this for the rest of the day. Even during the little shopping trip that the two of you dragged the boys to when you’d been debating with yourself if you wanted to buy this gorgeous coat or this really dress. Not that you needed more of either.
“Here just get both,” Ransom grumbled, taking out his card.
“What!” You gasped. “No, I can’t ask you to do that!”
He shook his head. “It’s okay. Just wear it for the Christmas party.”
“But I already have a dress,” you said.
“Look, I’m sure your sugar daddy buys you very nice things at Forever 21, but I insist.”
You rolled your eyes as he quickly handed the worker his card. “Hey!”
“Too late,” he replied with a shrug that smug smile on his face.
You looked down at the glass as your things were being wrapped up nice and neat. The gold necklace had a diamond moon pendent. It looked so delicate and would have gone so good with that dress.
“You like it?” He asked, noticing.
“Yeah, it’s beautiful,” you said. “But this is already too much.”
“C‘mon, we have to get back for dinner,” Ava said as Ransom grabbed the shopping bags.
—————
At some point every night the pillows would end up on the floor and you’d end up nestled into the crook of his neck. He’d have his arms around you until you’d roll over onto your side where he’d wrap himself around you again. Then you’d wake up to him gone because he went on his runs at the ass crack of dawn. You noticed how you’d be snuggly tucked into bed each time.
A part of you wanted to feel bad. That you were away and cuddling with another man every night. It was hard to feel guilty when you weren’t sure if your boyfriend was taking advantage of you being gone not that he knew that you knew. He was probably in some club, too, doing you don’t even want to know what. You knew when you left that you may be going home to end things.
You were trying not to think about it. Hell, you hadn’t even told Ava. You wanted everyone to have a good holiday and not worry. Besides you wanted to have fun. Which is why the four of you were going to some club tonight.
The four of you had went to dinner at this really nice restaurant. There were a few times when you’d caught Ransom looking at you all weird. “What?” You wrinkled your nose.
He cleared his throat before going back to picking at the salmon on his plate. “Nothing.”
As the drinks finally started flowing, you started to get a little loose. Ransom was sitting beside you being all sulky as he sipped from the glass of whiskey on ice.
“What’s wrong?” You asked him. Okay to be honest maybe you were more than a little loose, but you were just trying to have some fun.
“Nothing.” He glanced over at you then back to his drink.
“Hey,” this girl sat on the other side of him. “My friend was wondering if you wanted to dance.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why couldn’t your friend ask me herself?”
“She’s a little shy, but she’s cute.”
Ransom glanced over at you. “Nah. I’m just sitting here with my friend.”
The girl pouted, but finally left. You snickered. “I’m just sitting here with my friend,” you mimicked. “What too cool to dance?”
“Because I don’t know. I didn’t feel like it.” He shrugged then took another sip of his drink. “Do you wanna dance maybe?” He finally looked over at you and you were almost hypnotized, but managed to keep your composure.
“With you?”
He rolled his eyes. “No, Buttercup, with my grandpa.”
You laughed once again ignoring the nickname. Maybe it was kind of growing on you. It only took a year and a half. You stood up. “Fine, but you better not stomp on my feet.”
“I might on purpose.” He got up standing in front of you. For a minute you thought he might kiss you until he grabbed your hand to pull you onto the dance floor.
You didn’t want to admit this either, but you were having fun hanging out with Ransom. Ava and Simon were understandably in their own little bubble of love and you didn’t want to interrupt.
After the club Simon had the bright idea of going in the hot tub to warm up. Since you were all a little tipsy that sounded like a great idea.
You had to wear your long sweater out of the house since it was freezing. You in your own little space while Ransom seemed to scoot way to close to you. The four of you were just talking mostly. Enjoying the hot water after being in the freezing cold.
All of you were talking when Ava gave Simon a kiss, which got deeper to the point where they were showing you way more than you needed to see. “I think I speak for both of us in that we really do not want to witness the two of you procreating,” Ransom said.
Ava made a face at him while Simon laughed. He whispered in her ear where she pecked his lips again. The both of them started getting out right after. “We’ll see you two in the morning.” He grinned.
“Goodnight!” She said.
“Night,” you and Ransom said in unison.
You went to the side that your incredibly horny friends had been on which had been across from him. His eyes were closed with his head tilted back. You splashed water at him making him jump a little.
“Hey!” He splashed you back. You laughed as you did it a second time. “Alright, alright,” he said.
You did it again for good measure. “Can’t have someone seeing you have too much fun.”
He went back to his previous position this time putting his muscular arms on the ledge. You wouldn’t care to admit how long you stared at his biceps and shoulders. Then taking the quickest glance at his abs. Then that neck that you kind of wanted to put your mouth on. This is bullshit.
Why was he allowed to be this hot? It couldn’t be enough that he was an asshole. He had to be hot about it. Okay you looked at his pecs and tried to see if you could get a glance of what may have been in his swim trunk. Whatever.
“What are you doing?” He caught you, a smirk appearing on his annoyingly perfect face.
“It’s called minding my own business,” you replied. “You should try it.”
He laughed. “You’re such a brat.” You shrugged turning your head to look at nothing. “Is that what your sugar daddy sees in you?”
“He’s not my sugar daddy. I mean he buys me things like for my birthday, but... that’s not what our relationship is about. I don’t even know if we are in a relationship anymore.” You don’t know why you were spilling all of this to Ransom of all people.
Ransom frowned. “What happened?”
You looked down and sighed blowing out your cheeks after. “Well...” you sighed again. Your stomach was turning now. “You have to take it to your grave.”
“I won’t tell anyone.”
You rolled your eyes. “Promise?”
“I promise.”
You sighed, biting your lip weighing in your options. On one hand it wasn’t Ransom’s business. You really hadn’t told Ava this. You didn’t want her to worry.
“So, he’s not my sugar daddy,” you said, hoping he got the hint.
You could tell he did by the grin on his face and the way he raised his eyebrows. “You?” He explained. “No there’s no way and here I always thought you’d be boring in bed.”
You rolled your eyes. “Shut up no you didn’t.”
“I took you for a dead fish kind of girl,” he teased. “It’s always the cute ones.”
Your eyes widened at what he said. Then so did his when he realized what he said. “Anyway, so yeah that’s how we started off as,” you decided to ignore what he’d just said.
“Alright so go on.”
“Yeah, so it turns out I’m not the only one,” you said. “He’s been going to these clubs and he doesn’t think that I know.”
His jaw dropped. “This is the plot twist I really wasn’t expecting. I gotta tell ya.”
You shook your head. “Shut up.” You splashed him again.
“Stop!” He laughed, doing it back to you.
As you kept splashing at him, he came over to you, grabbing your hands to keep you from doing it again. “Let go of me.” You laughed.
“No.” He wasn’t laughing anymore. Just looking at you. Fuck he was putting you under his spell. You were supposed to not looking into his eyes. How did you make this mistake so many times? “Y/N, I... don’t make things weird.”
“What?” You laughed.
“Yeah. Don’t make this weird,” he said again softly before brushing his lips against yours finally.
“And here I’d always heard that you were a ladies man, Ransom,” you teased. “That was kind of weak.”
“Yeah, well maybe you bring out the worst in me.” A dopey smile had spread across his face. It was okay because there was one on yours too.
“Oh whatever.” You rolled your eyes still smiling. He leaned over to kiss you again but you put your hand against his lips to stop him. “I’m getting kind of tired actually.”
You walked back to your room. All wrapped in your sweater because fuck it was freezing now. You also wouldn’t say this out loud, but his lips felt really nice. As you made it to the bedroom the two of you were sharing, he came on not too far after, grabbing your arm to pull you into a kiss. He’s so dramatic.
As his lips worked against yours, you wrapped your arms around his neck. He felt so good. You can’t remember the last time David kissed you like this. “Fuck it’s actually really cold,” Ransom said.
You laughed. “I know I’m freezing.”
“How about we take a shower,” he said. “Maybe we could save some water together?”
“Oh yeah. We would totally be helping the environment.”
He grabbed you hand to lead you the rest of the way. You pulled off your wet clothes. As soon as you felt time hot water on your skin, you moaned. “
Jesus Christ, why not shower in hell,” he hissed.
“I’m already there.” You threw your arms around his neck. He leaned down to kiss you again. Pawing at your ass. He was so close this time.
You tried to act like nothing had happened as you finished getting ready for bed. As you got all settled under the covers, you felt your body finally start to warm up. He slid in next to you. This was the first time that you didn’t even attempt to put the wall of pillows up.
He pulled you all close to him. “You little shit! Are you naked?” You gasped.
He laughed. “Yeah. I don’t even know why you bothered.”
“Who said I was going to do anything with you?”
“Well, what if I tell you that,” he said, grabbing a handful of your ass, “I actually maybe sort of have feelings for you.”
Ah fuck.
Well, obviously.
But, ah fuck.
Why were you supposed to hate him again?
Because he was a giant asshole. He was rude to the help. Rude to everyone. Even you. Yet you still liked his stupid smug smile. That annoying laugh. You liked how he’d been surprisingly good company for this whole trip. Liked how he was holding you right now. You were pretty sure he could get an ugly haircut and you’d still like him. How he looked at you even when he was irritated with you.
Waiting for you to say something back.
“I... I have feelings for you, too.” You bit your lip after like you were nervous about what he might say back.
“Yeah?” He said with another dopey smile covering his face.
You nodded right before he bridged the gap first. Pressing your lips to his. His mouth moving ever so softly against yours. Like he was afraid you’d run away if he moved to quickly.
You deepened it and he finally pushed you down on your back. Ransom grabbed the back of your leg so you’d wrap it around his waist. Fuck he was already growing against you. “I still can’t believe you got dressed,” he pulled away to whisper in your ear. “You should have known I was just going to take everything off.”
You rolled your eyes. “Ever think that’s part of the fun.”
He chuckled before kissing you again. “Oh yeah?” He pulled away so he could start pulling down your sleep shorts. “You wanted me to take your clothes off?” You nodded, looking into his eyes. He hissed. “Didn’t even put-on panties, dirty girl.”
You laughed. “Do you like it?”
“Oh, I really, really like it.” He reached down to rub his hand up and down your slit. “What a pretty little pussy.”
You gasped. “Fuck.” His hands felt so good on you. He’d barely even touched you and it felt so, so good. Finally, his finger grazed your clit. He traced along it in a circle. “Stop teasing me!” You whined.
“Be patient, Buttercup.” He smirked.
“I’m going to kill you.”
“Shit,” he stopped, “I don’t have a condom.”
You shrugged. “I’m on birth control.”
He smirked. “Yeah, you want me to fuck you raw, Baby. Want me to cum in you?” He leaned back down to kiss your neck this time. His thumb was pressing into your clit now. Going on sweet, sweet circles. He stopped for a minute to pull off your top.
When you were fully naked and he finally put his mouth on your nipples, you needed him to just fuck you. “Please, Daddy,” you whimpered.
He went back to kissing your neck. “Yeah? You want me to be your daddy? Want me to take care of you.”
“God, yes.”
He lined himself up at your entrance. Looking into your eyes as he started to push into you. You closed your eyes tightly. “No, no open your eyes. I want you to look at me while I fuck you,” he commanded.
You nodded doing as you were told as he made you stretch over the thick head of his cock. You were so fucking wet just from him touching you like that. Your skin felt like it was on fire. You cried out as he inched into you. Fuck he was bigger than you’d expected. He was making you feel so full.
“Ransom,” you whimpered, he started out with shallow thrusts not going all the way in.
“Fuck, you’re fucking tight,” he groaned. “Can you even take it?”
You nodded. “I can take it, Daddy.”
He steadied his hips before finally shoving himself all the way inside of you. You gasped as he started fucking into you going so deep. Little droplets of tears formed in the corners of your eyes.
He was fucking you so good, your brain went blank. All you wanted was him. Wanted him to never stop fucking you. “Oh my god,” you whined.
“Yeah. Feels good?”
You nodded as you tried to take it. “Yes, Daddy.”
“Daddy making you feel good?” He panted. “Daddy’s gonna always make your pussy feel good, Baby. I’m gonna take care of you. Buy you whatever you want. Give you every fucking thing your boyfriend wouldn’t.”
Your pussy was gripping his dick like a vice. How were you so close already. “Please?”
“Is that what you want?” He asked in that condescending voice, you’d always hated, but fuck he was going to make you cum because of it. “Want me to buy you nice things. Be your boyfriend. Give you a fucking family.”
If he wasn’t balls deep inside of you, you would have probably reacted differently to him confessing that he wanted something with you. More than just this, but fuck hearing it like this only made you that more far gone. “Yes!” You moaned a little too loudly.
He clamped his hand over your mouth to shush you. “Shhh, Baby. You don’t want everyone to hear you getting dicked down do you? Want everyone to hear me fucking you?”
You shook your head, but stopped as you tilted your head back because you couldn’t stop it. Your eyes got all glazed over as your orgasm hit. 
“That’s it, cum for me.” He breathed. “Fuck. I’m gonna cum in your pussy.”
“Yes,” you whimpered. You could feel him so deep in your stomach. You can’t remember the last time you got fucked like this. No one else had ever been able to do this to you. 
As he finally couldn’t hold out anymore, cumming deep inside of you he still moved his hips. Making sure you got all of him.
He laid on top of you for a minute, not pulling you as you both came down from your orgasms. It felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest. How the hell were you going to explain this to everyone. 
He rolled beside you before pulling you into his arms. You rested your head on his shoulder. Still trying to catch your breath. “Fuck.” He laughed. 
You chuckled. “I know.”
“Why did we wait so long to do that again?” He asked.
“Because I hated you.” You didn’t mean to let out a bigger laugh because your lower half was way too sore for that. 
He rolled his eyes. “Bullshit. No, you didn’t.”
“I wanted to.”
“Brat.” He chuckled. “I just... I meant everything I said.”
“What?”
“That I wanna be with you...” he replied. “That I wanna make an honest woman outta you.” You rolled your eyes, trying to maintain that damn facade. He was making it hard because this smile spread across your face. “I’ll even let you live with me when you pack your shit out of that old man’s house.”
“Moving so quickly? Ransom, I’m shocked at you.”
“Look, I’ve put up with your shit for a year a half already,” he explained, “I already know that I want you.”
“You fucking sap!”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Why don’t you suck my dick about it?” He rolled his eyes.
You shrugged. “Okay.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
----------
You didn’t fall asleep until the sun was already coming up. Every time you tried before that; Ransom would start kissing your neck. You were exhausted, but satisfied in a way you hadn’t been in a long time.
You woke up to rustling on the bed. You tried to feel for him because although you were still cozy you wanted his warmth, but he wasn’t there. “Ransom?” You yawned, peeking your eyes open to him fixing the comforter. 
Oh.
“Hey, Baby,” he said with a smile on his face. He leaned over to kiss your forehead. “I gotta go, okay. I have some errands I have to run.”
You nodded, before wrapping your arms around him. He held you to him tightly kissing your forehead more. “Do you have to?”
“Mhmm,” he replied. “I told Simon I’d help him with this surprise for Ava
“Okay. I love you,” you replied sleepily before dozing off again. He smiled down at you before laying you back down, kissing your forehead before leaving. 
You woke up again to Ava jumping up and down on your bed. “Get up!” She cheered. 
“What are you twelve?” You grumbled. Then your eyes cracked open when you fucking realized you’d told Ransom that you loved him. “Oh no.”
“What? Wait, are you naked?” She raised both of her eyebrows as she got settled beside you in bed. “Did you and Ransom...”
You shook your head, suddenly feeling like you might puke. You fucking told Ransom Drysdale that you loved him. “What? No. I just got really hot last night.”
“Where’s your pillow wall?” She asked with a smirk.
“We were too drunk last night to remember?” 
“Bitch, you slept with Ransom Drysdale!” She gasped. “What about David?”
“Um... David and I are... I was already going to end things with him.
This annoyingly shit eating grin spread across her face. “You dirty slut. Okay, well, I don’t think Simon would mind if you stayed with us until you got back on your feet.”
“Actually, I already found a place. I just... I didn’t want to ruin your fun, ya know.”
She sighed. “Y/N, I’m your best friend. Your problems are my problems. I wouldn’t have cared if you told me. Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” You smiled. 
“So...” another smile spread across her face, “how was it?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking.” You laid back down, turning on your side and ignored her as she continued to ask questions.
You got your nails done with Ava, Trish, and Simon’s sister. Still thinking about what you’d said to Ransom. Nerves had started to settle in that you’d done something wrong. Raking your brain trying to remember if he’d even said anything back. You couldn’t remember.
It was Christmas Eve now and there was supposed to be this super fancy party today that the family apparently threw every year. Of course, you were going to wear the dress Ransom had bought you. There was no question. It fit in more. Besides okay maybe you wanted to look pretty for him whatever.
Neither him or Simon had come back by the time everyone started getting ready. You did your makeup in Ava’s room before going back to yours to get dressed. The was a knock on the door as you’d just finished.
“Hey,” Ransom leaned down to kiss your cheek lightly to not mess up your makeup. Setting down a little gift bag on the bed. “You look... you look beautiful.”
You were going to have to get used to him being nice to you. “Thank you.” 
“Sorry, it took so long. You know Simon. Has to go above and beyond.” He chuckled. 
You waited for him to get ready, checking your phone. David had been texting you throughout the trip. Not that you ever responded. You thought when you’d get to the end of this trip, you’d be dreading the drive home. Instead, you were hopeful of what was to come. 
"So, I kind of got you something,” he said before the two of you could leave the room.
You frowned. “I didn’t get you anything back.”
“That’s okay. I don’t think either of us were expecting this,” he replied. “I just wanted you to know I was serious about everything.”
“Okay.”
He clenched his jaw as he grabbed the bag he’d placed, taking out a jewelry box which he handed you. You looked up at him with those big eyes. “I saw you looking at it at that store so...”
“You’re such a sap,” you sniffled.
He smiled. “I just... when you told me I love you this morning, I didn’t say it back. I wanted to say it when I gave you this so... I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded and he pulled you to him, hugging you tightly. You really didn’t want to mess up your makeup so you forced yourself not to tear up. Except lipstick be damned because you were not, not going to kiss him.
It was taking you everything to not hold his hand as the two of you walked into where the party was starting to pick up a little. He looked so cute in his red sweater. Simon and Ava were being doted on by his grandparents. 
“So, Ava kind of figured it out,” you said as he handed you a glass of champagne. 
“How?” He asked.
“You didn’t lock the door and I was still naked under the covered.”
He snickered. “Should have given her an eye full.”
You shook your head. “I’ll give you an eye full.”
“You already did, Buttercup.” He shrugged.
“Why do you call me that?” You rolled your eyes.
His face started to get all red. You’d never thought in all your days you’d see Ransom blush. Between the two confessing your feelings for one another, of you having sex, you accidently telling him you love him, and him telling you that he wanted to be with you, making him blush made you feel like you’d won whatever game the two of you had been playing.
He sighed. “Well, okay, so when me and my cousin Meg were younger, she was obsessed with the Powerpuff Girls. I didn’t want to admit that I kind of liked it. Your bad attitude reminds me of Buttercup. She was my favorite.” He rolled his eyes looking away from you like he was embarrassed.
“You’re shitting me.” This smile spread across your face.
“Shut up.” He wrinkled up his nose.
“Never would have guessed that under all that wool and assholeness was a sweetheart waiting to burst out of the seams,” you teased him.
“You’re so lucky I think you’re pretty or else I think I might drop kick you.” He sighed.
----------
Christmas Day passed by nicely and easily. Mostly with everyone relaxing. You spent most of it tucked into Ransom’s side drinking hot chocolate watching Christmas movies with everyone because at this point the two of you are just a cliche. Which was fine because you liked it. 
He’d whisper I love you in your ear. Or pull you under the mistletoe because he’s corny. Ava and Simon teased you while Trish swore that she called it, which she kind of did.
When it was time go home you were a little sad. You liked being in this little bubble with him. Now you’d have to go home and deal with having to officially break up with David and having to talk Ransom out of taunting him. Of course, Ava and Simon offered up their place until you got on your feet, but him being him pretty much demanded that you live with him.
Normally you would kick yourself for moving so quickly and you don’t know why, but you saw something in him. Of course, you weren’t going to be able to move all of your stuff out today, but there were two very important things that you needed. David wasn’t even there when you got home. He was probably still at his parents.
“Hope you like cats because I’m not leaving them,” you’d told him as you packed them into their carriers. 
He groaned, throwing his head back. “Fine, but you’re giving me a blowjob as soon as we get home.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you said before placing a wet kiss on his cheek just to annoy him.  
“Hey, you wanna have sex in his bed before we go?” He asked with a smirk.
“You’re an awful person, you know that?” You put your hands on his chest. “Of course I do.”
“God, I love you.” He grinned before pressing his lips to yours. 
801 notes · View notes
fett-djarin · 4 years ago
Text
Anything
this bitch done YEET
anyway this is Boba Fett x f!Reader! I had this idea kicking around for awhile and shit finally came together and i was able to get it done!
Rating: 18+
Length: 4.1k
Warnings/Tags: SMUT, canon-typical violence (not in the smut), PiV intercourse, unprotected sex, fingering, riding, throne sex come get yalls juice, multiple orgasms, creampie, spanking, slight cockwarming?, pet names, swearing
NSFW BELOW THE CUT!
Boba Fett was an enigma. He intimidated you, intrigued you--but he didn’t scare you. Boba could be violent, occasionally cruel, but only to those who had earned his ire. You had nothing to fear.
You still remember the day he stormed into Jabba’s palace, a wrathful spectre on a mission. You had been afraid you would be caught in the crossfire, an exchange of possession through violence. But then your chains were blasted apart, scum of men dying around you instead of finding your own demise. Instead of fleeing like the other girls, you dove towards a dropped blaster and levelled it at one of the smugglers putting up a fight. This particular one had been a thorn in your side for a long time. You’d be lying if you said you felt no satisfaction watching him fall lifeless from your well-placed blaster bolt.
“Nice shot,” the woman--Fennec, you had come to learn--commented. You had turned in a panic, pointing the blaster in her direction, her own rifle coming up in an instant, aimed squarely at your head.
“Easy, girl,” the Mandalorian--Boba--had said. “We have no interest in fighting you.”
“If you mean to sell me again,” you spat, “it would be easier to kill me now.” Your fingers flexed on the blaster, and you tried to steady your shaking hands. Fennec’s aim hadn’t faltered.
“Stand down, Shand,” Fett directed the sharpshooter, who immediately lowered her weapon. He then addressed you again. “I don’t deal in flesh.” You slowly dropped your arm. “What’s your name, girl?”
That had been...a few standard months ago, now. Boba ran his syndicate under a tight fist. He had no use for slaves, and had told you you were free, even offered you credits to return home. Some of the others took his offer. You had opted to stay--your birth planet had nothing to offer you, and you did not want to try your luck as a newly freed woman with nothing to your name on Tatooine. You didn’t even have a name, really. You were called something different each time you moved; your birthname was no longer you. That person had died long ago.
“Call me anything,” you had told Boba. “I don’t mind.”
He thought for a minute, and then decided. “Mayen.”
You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you. The gruff, seemingly serious man had a sense of humor. Mayen--Mando’a for ‘anything.’ His lips quirked in a sly smirk. You liked it. Mayen it was.
“You know Mando’a?” He had asked.
“I’ve picked up things here and there,” you smiled in return.
He later on told you that you could pick your own name, you had no obligation to go by the silly pun he called you. But you had a sense of humor, and actually liked how it sounded. It was a new beginning. You decided you would keep it.
You knew quite a few languages, or bits and pieces you heard over the years. Boba had hired you as a translator, and you accompanied him to meetings with traders, smugglers, and pirates. He didn’t allow any of them to harass you. If they so much as leered in your direction, they tended to lose a few fingers or teeth, either by your hand or his. At Boba’s insistence, you now carried a blaster and a vibroblade. Fennec had been showing you how to properly aim and shoot so you could better protect yourself. He had gifted you the vibroblade as part of your payment.
Yes, Boba Fett was a hard man, but you appreciated his kindness.
His scars added to his imposing figure, and you often found yourself wondering about their origin. What he must have gone through for his skin to be marked so. You also wondered about how stupid some people could be--Mandalorians were legendary warriors, and Boba Fett had some infamy connected to his name, yet fools still picked fights they were destined to lose. His armor impressed you--and the dark stare of the T-visor when he looked your way always had something low and warm stirring in your belly.
It didn’t help that sometimes he would watch while you practiced with your blade. Your heart thundered in your ears the first time he came up behind you, chest to your back, and moved your arms into the correct defensive position. His boot also nudged your stance wider, centering your weight. It’s part of training, you told yourself. You prayed he didn’t notice the heat in your face or the way you refused to look at him. Stars, if you turned your head you could kiss him--
What could you say? He was a handsome man.
Occasionally he offered to spar with you, which was laughable. The first time you had outright refused. “I don’t want to die, thanks,” you said.
“You’re gonna have to face people bigger and stronger than you sometimes, princess,” he said the endearment mockingly.
“Most people aren’t Boba Fett.”
“You’re right about that. Still, come on, show me what you’ve learned.”
Your first fight ended miserably in about three seconds. You gave him a pointed look that said I-told-you-so, and he just shrugged. “Not bad for your first time.” Sparring became regular.
“You’re quicker than me. Use that to your advantage, stay out of my reach. Strike and retreat.”
“Arms up, but keep ‘em close--protect your body.”
“Stagger your stance, distribute your weight. Make it harder for people to knock you down.”
“Move with confidence--this is not the time to falter.”
His words of advice came with each session and stuck. After a few weeks, you could hold your own for a minute against Fett. Then five minutes. Then your sparring was like a coordinated, aggressive dance, blades flashing and deflected, ducking, dodging, weaving, spinning around each other. Once, you had even managed to disarm him, knocking the blade from his hand--you both froze in stunned surprise before Boba recovered and had you pinned to the floor in an instant.
“Very good.” He said from his place atop your legs, pride curling darkly through his voice. “But next time, press the advantage. You freeze, you die.” Now you froze for an entirely different reason--his weight on top of you caused something hot and wanting to smolder in you, his thumb gently stroking the hollow of your throat making your breath hitch. And then he was off you, pulling you back to your feet with ease.
You still couldn’t beat him--you don’t think you would ever be capable of that. The best bounty hunter in the galaxy against you? You much prefer being on his good side.
Boba had just returned from a recent bounty hunt alongside a fellow Mandalorian, having left you and Fennec at the palace. You had been helping her sort through the datalogs and contraband left behind from the previous occupants when he appeared, moving surprisingly silent for such a broad, imposing man.
“Mayen,” he called you, and you looked at him over your shoulder, having been preoccupied cataloguing the contents of the crate in front of you. He was still in his armor, adding to his bulk. The green-painted beskar gave nothing away. “I’ve got a meeting. You’ll be needed. Fennec, I sent you scouting information on the next bounty.”
You nodded, and with your acknowledgment, he turned and strode back towards the throne room. Fennec stood, brushing sand off her pants. “Careful,” Fennec warned. “Keep your blaster close. You never know how these meetings will turn out.” She patted you on the shoulder.
“Got it,” you said, adjusting your tunic so she could see the holster on your hip. It would be the first time she wasn’t there alongside you while Boba arranged deals with crime lords. Sometimes Boba would go in alone, or the both of you would attend. “Trained by the best.”
She cracked a smile at that. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to track down our next target.” She exited the storage room opposite of the way Boba went.
You gathered yourself, then followed after Boba. Entering the throne room was daunting, as the traders he was meeting with were already there and turned to stare. A few of them openly looked you up and down. Your eyes were fixed solely on Boba lounging on the throne, legs spread, seemingly completely at ease and exuding power. You strode past the group of men come to bargain, refusing to look away from the void of Boba's visor that tracked your movement. One of them muttered something as you passed that you couldn't make out, but it had not sounded pleasant. You took your place at Boba's side.
"Boba Fett, the legendary bounty hunter back from the dead," a wiry human man stepped forward, rubbing his hands together. His grin was more of a baring of teeth. "Now that you run this joint, I have a few propositions to consider--"
Since he was speaking Basic, you have to admit, you tuned out. You watched the two Twi’leks that had accompanied him, who kept throwing glances your way, murmuring to themselves. Something about them put you on edge. Of course, you never trusted the people who came to do business with Boba, but you liked this group even less.
You translated for a Rodian bounty hunter when it was his turn to speak. You noticed the Twi'leks and the first human had been getting antsy, shifting from foot to foot and continuing to eye you and Boba. The Twi'leks had never come forward. They spelled trouble. You were tense the entire time, but they reached an agreement and left without trouble.
Boba on the throne was a sight. Your mind wandered, wondering what it would be like to sit on his lap, straddle his strong thighs. You shook your head to clear it as Boba cleared his throat, drawing your attention.
"Go get some rest, little one." And with that, you were dismissed.
You touched yourself thinking of him that night. Imagining it was his fingers instead of yours bringing you to your peak. You bit your fist as you came, muffling your moans and preventing you from calling his name out into the night.
The next day, he had gone out once again. When he returned, you noted his armor had some new scratches, some of the fresh green paint chipped away. He beckoned you forward with a wave, following him to the throne room. He sat with a heavy sigh. You stood before him, waiting for his direction, when he removed his helmet and set it aside. There was a new cut on his cheek, dried blood sticking to his skin.
"You're hurt," you said, stepping forward. Boba grunted noncommittally in response, reaching into a pouch on his belt and pulling out a small container of bacta.
"Use this," his voice was gravelly and he tossed the container to you. He...wanted you to put the bacta on him? Your pulse kicked up. But you would do as he asked.
You unscrewed the lid, swiping your finger through the gel. "What happened?" You asked as you spread it as gently as you could over the cut.
"Those hunters from yesterday," he sighed. "Thought they could catch me unaware out in the dunes. Their last mistake." He chuckled. "This was really the only hit I took," he gestured to the cut along his cheek. You had finished spreading the bacta, but your hand still lingered. You were entranced, being this close to him. Your thumb mindlessly caressed his cheekbone.
"Mayen," he said your name. You met his eyes, the heat in his gaze taking you by surprise. He always had fire and fight in him, but this wasn't like that. It was wanting. Boba grasped your wrist of the hand that still held his face, his other coming up to cup the back of your head.
Then you were kissing him.
You don't know if you leaned down or if he pulled you down or if he leaned up or if it even mattered, all you cared about was his rough lips against yours. When you gasped into it, he took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. Boba's kisses were all consuming, overwhelming--he demanded all of you, and wouldn't accept any less.
He leaned back, bringing you with him so you had no choice but to straddle his lap or be pulled off-balance. You settled along his thighs, sighing as you could now grind your center against his stiffening member. He nipped your bottom lip, breaking away to press kisses down your throat.
“Tell me, sweetheart…” he murmured, worrying a mark into the delicate skin of your neck.
You whined, rolling your hips against his. His hands clamped down like durasteel around your hips, stilling you. “Tell me. We stop if you say so.”
“I want you, Boba,” you gasped, and he rewarded you with another hickey sucked into your neck. He guided your hips back into a slow grind, thrusting up against you. The layers of clothes between you dulled the sensation, but warm waves of pleasure still radiated through you. You cradled his jaw, bringing his lips back to yours, before trailing your palms down his chest. You pawed at his chestplate and robes, making him chuckle.
“Eager, aren’t we?” he teased you lightly. You squeaked when he pinched your ass. “Take this off, princess.” His hands slid up under your tunic, running up and down your sides before caressing your breasts.
You lifted your arms, helping him slide your shirt over your head. Instinctively, your arms came down to cover yourself, but Boba tutted at you. “Don’t get shy on me now, mesh’la. Let me see you.” He murmured in your ear before lightly nipping the lobe, sending shivers down your spine. He encouraged you to put your hands back on his chest. You whined against him, need building in your core as he undid your bindings and continued to guide your hips in a deep grind.
Boba’s fingers crept along the waistband of your pants before diving inside. You moaned as they landed on your clit. “This wet already? Someone’s a needy little thing.” You felt your face heat at his teasing accompanied by his rough fingers circling your clit built you up even more. You hid your face in his shoulder, grinding against his hand for more of that raw pleasure. Boba suddenly pressed hard against your clit in a tight circle, making you cry out loudly and grip his robes for dear life.
“Boba, please,” you whined, lips tracing his throat, his jaw, wherever you could reach. You brought your own hand down to cup him through his pants, running your hand along his bulge. He cursed lightly in your ear as you gently squeezed him.
“Up,” he said, patting your ass. You stood, taking the opportunity to shimmy out of your pants and panties. He lounged back against the throne, taking in your form. You didn’t cover yourself this time. “Good girl. Come here.” You stepped between his spread knees and he took you by the elbow, pulling you down and turning you so your back was pressed to his chest and your legs were spread by his own. His touch returned to your clit, sliding through your slick folds to tease your entrance. You pressed your ass back against his hardness and he groaned.
His arm banded around your waist as he finally slid a finger into your dripping entrance. You gasped, head falling back to rest on his shoulder. When he introduced a second one, you began to squirm. The stretch was so good as his fingers slid within you, curling and pressing into that perfect spot that sent you soaring. You were practically riding his hand, your hips circling as his fingers moved faster and faster.
“Oh,” you gasped as he added a third, legs trembling. Your hand shot to his where it was locked around your middle, holding you against him, while your other curled up and back, turning his head so you could kiss him. Boba found that spot in you that made you clench tight around him and zeroed in with deadly precision. You felt him grin smugly against your lips as your breathing stuttered. “Boba!”
“Look at you, so desperate for my fingers. Squeezin’ me so tight, sweetheart, can’t wait to feel you around my cock.”
You found yourself teetering at the edge of release. You turned your head, burying your nose in Boba’s neck. “Please, Boba, g’nna cum, please--” you gasped out. It was a good thing he held you to him, else you would have been bucking off his lap.
“Cum on my fingers, cyar’ika.”
Your mouth opened in a silent moan as you tipped over the edge of orgasm, cumming hard around Boba’s fingers. Your cunt flooded with wetness, the lewd sound of his fingers thrusting into you becoming even wetter. If he hadn’t been holding you to his chest you would have doubled over with the devastating pulses of pleasure rocking through you from your center. He continued working you through it until you whined, pushing at his hand that still moved between your thighs, need building up in you again.
Boba brought his fingers up to his mouth and you moaned at the sight of him sucking and licking them clean of your arousal. “Taste so sweet,” he said. “Open.” You opened your mouth, and he slid his fingers inside. Obediently, you sucked on them, swirling your tongue around his fingers like you would his cock. Boba groaned. "Dirty girl."
He withdrew his fingers from your mouth and you begged. "Want your cock, please, Boba--please fuck me, please--"
"Hush, needy pet. You'll get what you want." He bit your neck, the sharp pinpricks fading into a warm buzz that made you squirm, wiggling your hips on his lap. Boba reached down between you two and shifted himself out of his robes, sliding his cock against your soaked folds. You looked down and Maker, he was thick. You were suddenly glad he made you take three fingers--you hoped you would be able to take his cock.
He rutted against you, his cock sliding through your folds and pulling breathless little gasps from you each time his head nudged your clit. Each slick drag of him against your lips coated his cock in your wetness. Boba evidently grew tired of teasing you, because he urged you up and took hold of the base of his cock, guiding it to your dripping entrance. You moaned at the feeling of his thick tip splitting you open, sinking down the first inch.
Boba's hand came around to rub little circles on your clit, making you jerk against him, his other hand caging you in by your hip. Slowly, he encouraged you to sit back on his lap, the thick drag and push of his cock working inch-by-inch deeper into you. Stars, you felt him in your fucking guts. Your thighs trembled, and when your ass touched his lap you nearly sobbed from how full you felt.
"Look at that," he murmured into your hair. "Takin' me so well, princess. Feels fucking good, doesn't it?" You clenched around him at his words, making him choke off a moan. He rubbed your clit a tick faster just to feel you spasm around him again and he laughed at your high gasp of pleasure.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, it was too good--that ache, the raw sparks shooting down your legs and up your spine. Shifting the slightest bit pushed him right up something devastating inside you and you couldn't stop the wrecked moan that tore from your throat. Boba gave an experimental thrust and you nearly shrieked and lurched off of him, if he hadn't grabbed a hold of your hips and held you on his lap. You babbled senselessly, too overwhelmed as every ridge of his cock pressed your walls just right. "B-Boba, Boba, move, please--"
His big hand slapped your inner thigh and this time you did wail, the hot sting fading into a pleasant, buzzing warmth. His fingers dug in to the soft flesh hard enough that you knew there would be bruises in the shape of his fingers come morning. Then he lifted you slightly off him, cock sliding only a few inches out, before pulling you down in time with a thrust upwards, burying himself in you with a deep grind. You let out a choked moan, stars bursting behind your eyelids.
"Ride," he demanded. Your breath hitched as you scrambled for purchase, hands going to his strong thighs for support. It was sort of an awkward position, your feet barely touching the floor, requiring you to go on your tiptoes to pull a few inches off his cock. Boba's thick fingers cupped your pussy in a V shape, so every time you rose and fell they rolled against your clit. You couldn't tell if you wanted to push your hips back away or forward for more stimulation.
He slapped your other thigh this time, rubbing to soothe the sting, encouraging you to bounce on his cock faster. Your breath was coming in high, moaning pants as each drop of your hips buried him deep inside you, reaching places you never had and lighting up your nerves like a star gone supernova. Paired with his touch teasing your clit with every thrust, you weren't going to last long.
Boba's hands on your hips guided you faster, rougher--each downstroke hitting deep and holding you there for a second just to feel how full, how stuffed your pussy was of him. His thrusts up as you dropped down allowed his cock to hit your g-spot dead on, over and over. You felt yourself rhythmically clenching around him, heard his groans as your cunt strangled his cock, and you were so close to cumming again. The feeling coiled up at the base of your spine, the pleasure winding tighter and higher and ready to burst.
And then--then Boba hooked his hands under your knees, pulling your legs up so all your weight rested on where he was buried in you, and he slipped another inch further inside. You couldn't stop the sob of pleasure as he held you like this, open for him to take, and he set a punishing pace. The dull slap of skin-on-skin paired with the wet gush of your arousal around him, dripping down his balls and onto the throne, made your head tip back onto his shoulder and wrenched moan after moan out of you.
You were talking, babbling nonsense--begging, pleading for him to make you cum again. Boba tilted his hips just right and you keened as it pushed his cock right against the soft spot along your walls. Each thrust shoved you closer to the edge right until that coil inside you snapped. Your legs shook and your pussy clamped down so hard around Boba's cock that it stunted him to short, shallow thrusts as you rode it out. You distantly heard him groaning, praising you, telling you good girl, good fuckin' girl--you were spasming around him, each jolt of pleasure like a white-hot knife radiating from your core to your toes. Boba kept fucking you through it and you nearly begged him to stop--it was too much, the bite of overstimulation burning your nerves--when he pulled you down, fucking into you as deep as he could and he came with a groan of your name, cock throbbing as his release coated your walls.
Somehow, you ended up turned, face buried in his neck and legs wrapped around his waist as you trembled and caught your breath. His hands trailed up and down your spine and thighs in soothing motions as you came back down. You sighed and cuddled closer to him, the hard beskar plating cold against your bare skin, but it felt good on your overheated body.
"Made quite a mess on me, sweetheart," he said, deep voice rumbling in his chest under your ear. You just mmm'd and clung closer to him while he chuckled. It was true. Your arousal coated your thighs, dripped down onto the throne, soaked Boba's cock where it was still buried in you. Boba pulled his robe around you and stood, supporting you with his hands under your thighs. "Come on, little one, let's go to bed." You closed your eyes as he made his way out of the throne room and through the palace. He didn't drop you off in your bedroom, instead taking you to his and laying you in the spacious bed before stripping off his armor and joining you.
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harveybwabbit92 · 3 years ago
Text
Den-O Taros: How you met
Momotaros: He and his brothers were investigating an Imagin contract someone put out on old man who refused to sell his land to a fishy business man, Ryutaros arrested you because you looked shady and were apparently covered in sand, you spent the night in a fricken cell insisting that they've got the wrong person! but it fell on deaf ears, as the dude who arrested you teased that Momo-chan was gonna destroy you! "Hey lady... wake up!" a rough voice growled, you groaned opening your eyes realizing it was morning! 
You looked to where the voice came from were greeted by some punk looking dude with red eyes starring at you from outside the cell, you looked at him tired and annoyed "Oh great another one..." You sighed got up from the floor went right up the punk, you'd be right up in his face if that door wasn't separating you.
"I already told that Break-dancin' Psycho, I don't what an Imagin is, I don't know any Sanada-san, I was just trying to go home!" You hissed as punk guy silently observed you which pissed you off more.
 "Well? Aren't ya gonna say something, or just gonna gawk at me like an idiot?" you snapped the punk blinked before his face contorted in anger. "What did you just call me?!" He snarled you scoffed at the guy in disbelief. "Goddamn, he's not just stupid, he's deaf t-eeeepp!" You squeaked loudly when the red eyed stranger suddenly reached into the cell and lifted you off the ground by the front of your shirt and pulled you toward him, only for him to get a weird look on his face, You looked at him warily as his face got close to yours and...
Sniff, sniff....
You blinked trying to register what was going on? what???? Whattttt???, Was he...Was this weirdo smelling you???! He pressed his nose to top of your head and inhaled sharply "What the fu-ack!" you let out a startled yelped when he suddenly dropped you; hitting the floor with comical thud you watched while rubbing your sore butt as the punk went to the door and yelled down the hall.
"Oy Brat! Get your purple ass in here right now!" Your brow furrowed as Psycho walked looking nervous, it was then you noticed their faces looked identical... were they twins? You watched as they went into a huddle and you winced trying hear what they were saying before Psycho blurted out. "But she is suspicious! she was stealing a getaway bike!" you let out frustrated growl.
"I was not stealing it, that was my bike!" Psycho looked at you bemused. "Then why were you taking off the tires?" he said in a bratty I know everything tone, You tried not to roll your eyes at him. "I take the back tire off so actual bike thieves don't take it!" You watched the purple eyed man recoil for second, but then he seem to have an ah-ha! moment. "But, b-but you were covered in sand!" he pointed at the grainy residue you were covered in. Before you could tell him what it really was or ask what did sand have to do with anything?
His red-eyed doppelganger crouched down to your level and silently wiped off some of the "sand" stuck your cheek, he examined it with a fixed expression for a few moments before cautiously licking it off his thumb. "This is sugar!" he said clearly vexed whilst giving Psycho a look that screamed "you're gonna get it later!" Without another word Psycho unlocked your cell and he was forced to apologize, with the threat of being locked up himself.
Cut to later when Red-Punk...or Momotaros as he introduced himself dropped you off where psy-Ryuutaros had picked you up from, luckily your bike, purse and tools were still there... Which confused you, they were left out all night! Surely someone messed with it! Nope! every bill, card and coin in your purse was left untouched which confused you. That's because unknown to you, Momotaros brought you back in time to about five minutes after Ryuutaros had arrested you. 
Which he awkwardly apologized for the third time before handing you his business card "Give me a call if you see something weird." Of course he really didn't elaborate on what you should be looking out for, before wordlessly driving his bike off into the sunset and presumably out of your life, you however had this nagging suspicion that you'll be seeing more of Momotaros very soon.
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{tw: sexual harassment, groping.]
Urataros: The story is actually kind funny if you like the pretend we're dating trope! See Urataros was undercover as clerk at a corrupted law firm, there were rumors of witness backing out trials and key evidence going missing without a trace, the whole thing screamed Imagin involvement, you on the other were doing an investigative piece for your online magazine, hence you were also undercover as a secretary at the same firm, only you just assumed the big boss was just using money to pay off witnesses and make the evidence to disappear. 
You had no idea what you were getting yourself into, and it all started it all started at the office new years party with one of the older bosses was being a drunken a creep towards you. "L/n has anyone ever told what fine looking doll you are?" You tried not to gag as you felt that balding oaf's hand on your hip and attempting to go lower as he tried to pull you into his circle of merry men who leered at you like a piece of meat. "Not to my knowledge sir..." You said forcing a smile as you manage to move just out of his grimy reach.
"Well that's a shame, a fine woman like you would look nice on a distinguished man's arm." You winced knowing exactly what he was getting at. "Oh sir, your wife would have my head!" you teased masking your gag in a giggle as he insinuated that his wife didn't need to know... "Oh...Temping offer, but I already have a boyfriend." you saw the leers suddenly do a 180 as the other men went to find some other ladies to hassle as your boss visibly bristled. "You do, and who might that be?" You bit your lip looking around frantically before grabbing the arm of the first young guy you saw.
"Him." you yanked Urataros towards you as he looked between you and the boss bemused. "You two are dating, Is this true Date-san?" The blue eyed man frowned seeing at your fear behind that fake smile you always had plastered to your face, Urataros sensed what was up and quickly collected himself. "Yes, it's been about two months now, Right? My little Moon jelly?" he cooed as your face felt warm as you shyly nodded. "w-Well how come you never said anything?!" the old man sputtered as Urataros got this stormy look in his eyes.
He stood to his full height dwarfing the older man in comparison. " Frankly, sir, I don't see how that's any of your business." the bespectacled man stated coldly. You shuddered at Urataros's icy tone; reminding yourself to compliment him later on his awesome acting skills after this was over!
You took a deep breath looked over at the old creep, who just shifted uncomfortably in his shoes; like a child whose been caught stealing cookies. "I see, …I think I hear my wife calling, if you'll excuse me!" he made a hasty get away as you and Urataros relaxed, only realized that everyone in the office was attending this party and heard everything!... *"Argh, this is gonna be one long assignment!"* you both thought as coworkers came to questioned you both on your secret romance!
==========================
Kintaros: You were up up for three days straight due to work stress and were starting to feel the crash, at first you didn't feel tired, just sluggish. But that was probably because you were moving and walking around all day, so maybe it wasn't catching up to you just yet? but according to your coworkers you were shambling around and looked like a zombie! Your boss seemed to finally notice they pushing you too hard and sent you home, but for the life of you, you just could. not. sleep! So off for a walk you go... 
You weren't sure how long you were walking for or where you were walking to, you just picked a direction and went on aimlessly, until you ended up in a park and sat down at picnic table and collapsed in exhaustion; oblivious of the tall shadow looming over you.
Cut to few hours later, it was pitch black out save for the faint glow of the moon and the park light buzzing above you... as your swore and tired eyes adjusted in the dim light, you were confused when you found a large yellow Happi coat draped over your shoulders. 
You took it off and read the back "Strength in crying?" your brows furrowed bemused trying to think over what that could mean? when a loud rumbling noise caused you to jump, You looked across the table and saw a man dressed in a black and yellow Jinbei, in a deep sleep snoring loudly which explained the rumbling, you looked at him then back a the Happi. "It's yellow too, so it must be his." you figured out loud and got up and stretched before circling around to his side of the table and after some reluctance you gently shook the man's shoulder.
 However, you soon found out he was very, very deep sleeper!
Those gentle shakes soon turn into rough shoves and you practically yelling at him to wake up! soon your e/c eyes met yellow? as the large man looked at you groggily sat up with a loud yawn and stretched causing a few of his joints pop in the process. "Is it morning?" he mumbled looking around the dark park curiously.
 You awkwardly checked your phone. "um, i-it's two in the morning if that counts?" You winced at how dumb you must've sounded before getting a strong pat on the back that nearly knocked you off your feet. "It does!" The mystery man said gaily as you handed him back his coat, cut to you buying two cans of coffee from a vending machine and Kintaros as the man introduced himself walking you home.
He told you how he was jogging in the park when he found you passed out on the picnic table, he went to wake you, but you looked so exhausted he decided to leave you be... until he noticed a sketchy looking group of men watching you from the bushes, Kintaros remembered hearing some of the older folks gossiping about of women being stalked in the area lately.
He got worried and circled back and sat down with you only to to fall asleep himself.  "You were about a four houses down from your home, when you and Kintaros were spotted by certain someone. "Well, well this surprising..." a flamboyant voice teased from the shadows causing Kintaros to instinctively put himself between you and the mystery person.
"Kin-kun shirking on your duties to play with a girl, never though I'd see the day!" The person stepped out of the shadows it was... Kintaros? or a least someone who looked like him, a brother perhaps? 
The yellow clad man seemed to relaxed. "Urataros, what are you doing out this late?" Kintaros asked looking at his blue eyed doppelganger who gave him a deadpan look. "Searching for you dummy, you were gone for ten hours!" he said their Senpai and Ryuuta-kun were out looking for him too! "Did you get my texts?" there was a loud awkward pause. "....Did you break your phone again?" Kintaros looked at Urataros sheepishly and took out a crushed phone. "I sat on it." The bespectacled man pinched his nose.
"That's the third one this month..." he muttered before turning his attention on to you. "Sorry, I never got your name." You fidgeted awkwardly under his gaze. "Y/n." Urataros nodded memorizing the name so he can tease Kintaros about it later; after he's in better mood. "I'm guessing my brother is walking you home, how far is that?" it was clear he was annoyed and wanted you to get lost quickly so he can scold Kintaros! You bit your tongue and silently pointed up the road, the two men watched you carefully making sure you found your way home safely.
The second you got inside your house you heard Urataros yelling. "I'M NOT BUYING YOU ANOTHER PHONE!" which literally caused the entire neighborhood to wake up! I'm talking houselights turning on, car alarms going off and random dogs howling in the distance, the whole shebang, you burst out into tired giggles before finding yourself wishing you got Kintaros's number or address before he broke his phone, he seemed like the type of guy you'd like to hang out with again.
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Ryuutaros: (slight digimon crossover since Toei owns both): You didn't meet Ryuutaros officially, You were sitting quietly in the park listening to music while sketching a new toy design in your sketch book. "Wha'cha drawing Y/n?" a shy voiced asked over the music from your headphones you looked up from your work to see Dorumon curiously eyeing the picture from your Digi-vice, you pouted. Well dang... This was supposed to be a surprise. "Well if you must know my little dragon bro... It's you!" you chirped causing the purple dragonoid to become pink and flustered. "Eh, m-me?" he stammered surprise as you nodded excitedly.
"Or at least your baby form!" you cooed this seem to fluster the little guy even more as you gushed about he is just the cutest! and how everyone deserved to get in on it! so you were designing a plushie. "No, please stop!?" he whined you giggled at his reaction, Dorumon was like the little brother you never had! while the two of you were joking and talking neither of you noticed the battle going on behind you. 
As a masked armored warrior ran around breakdancing and shooting at at some freaky bird looking humanoid that was flying around the park, until Dorumon noticed some debris flying your way!" Duck and roll!" he barked you out of surprise and instinct complied as Dorumon never raises his voice unless something bad is about to happen! You ducked and rolled out of the way, dropping your sketchbook in the process.
When your head stopped spinning you looked up to see what scared Dorumon? and gasped when you saw how damaged the park was, It looked like a warzone! You looked to where you were just siting to see some weird bird looking thing, stuck in a crater; struggling to get up! you had no idea what that thing was it certainly wasn't a Digimon, and your sketchbook was sitting in it's path! You looked between your book and the monster unsure of what to do, until Dorumon spoke. "Y/n we have to go..." You were about to protest!  when you heard footstep approaching; not wanting to find who they belonged to you ran leaving your book behind.
A few seconds later Ryuutaros as Den-o rounded the corner gun drawn as he closed in on the condor Imagin, "Are we having fun?!" the purple clad hero cheered. "Damn...you!" the avian monster cursed. "I can't hear you!~" the dragon imagin sung as he activated his finisher, and obliterated the condor imagin.
Ryuutaros happily hopped around cheering over his victory and was about to deactivate Den-o when he zeroed in on something on the ground... a book? Curious he crouched down and picked it up and looked around for any signs of the owner, But saw he was the only person left in the park. 
He flipped it around to the front cover. {prop of : Y/n L/n, if found return too (address or call: num)} Ryuutaros curiously and opened it and was immediately excited seeing all the expertly drawn pictures some of them were of toys and video-game characters he'd seen recently on the market! "Jackpot! this is so cool!" He exclaimed looking through the book before stopping at the most recent entry... Some kind of dragon toy? 
Needless to say the dragon imagin really wanted to meet this person! he quickly tucked the sketchbook under his arm and deactivated Den-o, and was hellbent on returning to the Den-liner so he could give this Y/n a call! while ignoring his brothers, who were freaking out about property damage!
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A Jinbei is a summer outfit usually worn at festivals by men, though in recent times they become popular with women who have also started wearing them. It is use as an alternative to Yukata.
A Happi is a thin coat that was also usually worn during festivals, they were also worn by house servants and Firefighters in the past.
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sylvie-writes · 3 years ago
Text
Beautiful Just the Way You Are
word count: 1982
request: 
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warnings: talks of negative self-image. please don’t read if this will upset you! 
a/n: this is part 5 of (undetermined) of me trying to finish requests that have been sent in ages ago. IM SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT. it’s been hard to write but hopefully these will do. please ignore any mistakes, I typed this a bit fast and didn’t really check.
Chris 
You and Chris were getting ready to go to one of his closest friend’s wedding. 
This would be the first time you would meet each other so making a good first impression was a must.
Chris had gone to pick up his suit from the dry cleaners and you were currently scouring through the four dresses your sister-in-laws had lended you. 
The wedding was a summer wedding and it was gonna be held on the beach. 
As of recently, the heat had gotten worse each day meaning you didn’t want to be stuck in a dress that caused you to sweat like a runner after 12 miles. 
Both of Chris’s sisters had noted this and unfortunately all four dresses before you were above the knee, something that made you uneasy.
It seemed that when you were going to meet people or attend public events, your insecurities crept up even more than usual and your mind would shove negative thoughts down your throat. 
You were gorgeous, no doubt, but with such poisonous thoughts of yourself, you couldn't see any beauty as your reflection stared back from the mirror.
The first dress was a lacy yellow v-neck dress. It slightly flared out to the sides and it complimented your figure beautifully.
The second dress was a black bodycon, which made you want to scream. While to the average eye, your curves flourished under this dress, all you could see was a belly and hips that you wanted gone.
The third and fourth dresses were similar with thin spaghetti straps and flowy bottoms which reminded you of a bell.  
Unbeknownst to you, Chris had come back sometimes in between trying on the second and third dress. 
He peeked through the door, admiring how amazing you looked. 
Chris kept thinking how lucky he was to have such a woman until he heard yells of anger that shook him from his daydream. 
That was when you tried on the last dress and the final straw was gone. 
Your anger turned into tears as you collapsed onto the food feeling nothing but pain and worthlessness. 
In seconds, Chris was on the floor with you, wrapping his arms around your front where your arms were held up to your eyes. 
He rocked you back and forth, shushing you gently. 
“(y/n), honey, speak to me. Tell me what I can do to help you?”
Words were worthless at this point and all Chris could make out was “dress.”
He put two and two together and realized that you were upset with the way you looked. 
For some time now, Chris knew this had been a problem, but he didn’t realize it would bubble up this badly.
He knew words of his compliments wouldn’t help at all because you’d just say that he was lying. 
All he wanted was for you to see yourself through his point of view because you were like an angel.
“Hey, love, listen to me.”
Chris removed your hands from your eyes and looked at you in the mirror. 
“You are stunning, always and forever. Your body does amazing things for you and for me.” He chuckled at the end causing you to laugh a bit, a sad smile on your face. 
“I know you don’t believe me, but I would never lie to you. I made you that promise all those years ago and I will keep it forever, you understand me?”
You nodded just wanting to shrug this whole embarrassing experience off. You were never one to want people to see you like this because it felt like you were vying for attention when you weren’t.
“No, (y/n), I want you to say.”
Rolling your eyes, you replied, “Yes, I know, Chris.” 
He smiled and kissed your temple, “There’s my girl. Now c’mon, let's keep this dress on and I’ll help you with your makeup.
Ransom
You and Ransom were at one of Harlan’s publishing parties.
The family was up to their usual shenanigans leaving you and Ransom to sip on one too many drinks to stay interested.
One Joni walked away after trying to sell you some of her face moisturizer that cost more than the largest bag of dog food, Ransom snuck up behind you and led you to the garden, away from the sight of any house guests.
“How about we sneak away and take a dip in the pool?” His eyebrows raised teasingly and it was hard to resist such an offer.
“But Ransom, I don’t have a swimsuit!” You motioned to your maxi dress that was too pretty to damage with chlorine. 
You set your drink down on the cement bench and went to sit beside it before Ransom grabbed your hand and smirked. 
“Fine by me, here, simple fix!” 
In seconds, Ransom slipped off your dress, not even with a tear which was shocking from his usual animalistic movements. 
This left you standing in your simple undergarments, yet feeling more naked than actually being so. 
Ransom placed a kiss on your head before jumping into the pool in his boxers and nothing more.
He seemed ever so happy, waving his arms for you to jump in as he shook his now mop-like hair, now looking like a wet dog. 
Instead, you were sitting quietly on the ledge of the pool, arms wrapped around your waist trying to cover every inch of your exposed body. 
You felt so terrible like the sight Ransom would see would be so repulsive because that was exactly what you were thinking. 
When Ransom noticed that you were frozen in your spot and zoned out on some dragonfly floating in the pool, he swam closer. 
Ransom placed his hands on your thighs and looked up to see tears running down your nose and cheeks, dropping onto your lap.
At his touch, you involuntarily pushed him away and Ransom respected your space, floating back a bit. 
“Angel, what’s wrong?” 
“Ransom, I don’t want to be out here like this!”
You were on the verge of yelling, but instead kept your voice at a harsh whisper.
“Are you afraid someone will see us because (y/n) I can assure you they won’t. Plus, they’ve seen worse happen in this pool, trust me.” Ransom laughed, but you didn’t and he picked up on this, deciding to remain serious for the rest of the conversation.
“No it’s not that. I don’t want YOU to see me like this!”
The man swimming in front of you was in shock at such negative words coming from your mouth. 
He looked at you as an absolute goddess and he often wondered why a beauty like you would stay with a mess like him.
Sure he was gorgeous on the outside, but you were both inside and out.
“You’re just saying that because you feel like you have to, Ransom.”
You huffed and looked the other way, not wanting to even glare at him. 
Ransom laid his head on your lap in defeat.
“What do you want me to do? Worship you? Because I will! Oh (y/n), have mercy on me with your beauty! You are just so-” 
At this point, Ransom was speaking as loud as possible and he knew he was getting on your nerves.
You playfully rolled your eyes, “OKAY OKAY.  I BELIEVE YOU. Will you just hush now!?” 
Ransom looked up with a devious glimmer in his eyes, before he pulled you into the pool and you squealed loudly. 
“I think you are the one who should hush now, missy!”
Andy 
Andy had just gotten off from work and you had just finished making a surprise dinner. 
He was delighted at the sight of homemade chicken pot pie along with two bottles of old fashioned soda, a small tradition between the two of you.
You both settled down to watch a movie with your plates of chicken pot pie.
Andy had picked a movie that you’d never seen before and within five minutes your happy mood had morphed into insecurity. 
Turning, you saw Andy intently watching the movie as the most perfect woman appeared on screen and the negativity sprawled from your mind, turning nothing into something. 
While Andy just innocently enjoyed the movie, your inner saboteur told you that he was more so enjoying the sight of the gorgeous woman on screen. 
After all he had been stuck with you, so you didn’t blame him. 
Well he wasn’t actually stuck with you, but that's what you told yourself. 
You told yourself that he just felt bad for you and that is why he stayed. 
Andy noticed that halfway through the movie, you were uncharacteristically quiet and a sour pout on your face. 
“Gosh, imagine looking like that! That would be a dream.” A bitter laugh ended your snide comment and Andy immediately shut off the tv.
“Why did you do that?!” 
Andy just shook his head, “Because of what you said! (y/n), is there something you’d like to tell me?” 
“All I said was that I wish I looked like her. What’s wrong with that?” You nonchalant shrugged and turned away from his hard stare. 
“Honey, I can read you very well and I can tell that wasn’t just a joke.” 
You were quiet and Andy continued to pry. He pulled you tight to his chest, murmuring whispers of praise causing you to break and cry quietly.
“See, even when you cry, you are pretty.” 
Steve
The funny thing about insecurities is that it can turn someone into an absolute mess or monster. 
In this instance it was both.
You and Steve were at a cafe, one that you had been visiting together for years now.
Today, it seemed that the cafe had hired new employees as at least four faces you didn’t recognize were waltzing around the kitchen. 
It didn’t bother you until a complete beauty who introduced herself as Cara waited at your table. 
At first it was like the green eyed monster had crawled out of you and you felt shameful all until gut intuition showed you that she was being a bit too friendly with Steve. 
Little glances from across the room with flirty waves. At one point you swore that she winked at him. 
Her tone would instantly change anytime she talked to you and that made your blood boil.
Steve noticed your change in attitude as a borderline scary scowl worked its way on your lips. 
You were burning holes into the back of her head as you thought about how perfect the two would be together. 
Steve tried to nudge your half of your sandwich to catch your attention as he was clueless to what was running through your head. 
“Hey, doll. Why don’t you eat your sandwich? The flies are crazy and I can’t keep them away for long!” He swatted at the nagging flies, laughing at how the tiny creatures were defeating him, Captain America. 
You didn’t hear any of what he said and instead mean words that never once came out of his mouth.
“Why don’t you go be with her. She’s so perfect for you anyway.”
You stood from the table and stormed out the door, the tiny bell above it mocking you.
Steve was utterly confused at this random outburst. 
All he had mentioned was the sandwich, nothing about a girl, especially the waitress, whatever her name was.
Thinking back, Steve realized that she was flirting with him, but he was just so used to being friendly that he didn’t notice that he had put up such an illusion.
Especially one that hurt you.
The only word he was able to get out was “what” before he rushed out behind you.
He grabbed your arm and spun you to face him, not angry as he knew exactly how being insecure felt. 
“(y/n), you are the only one who is perfect for me.” 
You just fell into his arms, remembering that you were truly the only one for Steve.
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ichorai · 3 years ago
Text
cellmates ; five ; j.wy
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pairing ; jung wooyoung x reader
summary ; stuck in jail after stealing a necklace off the princess, what happens when your new cellmate with an impossible escape plan comes along?
themes ; fantasy, angst, slowburn, action, adventure, medieval, pirates, magic, elves, mermaids, royalty
words ; 8.9k
warnings / includes ; character death, blood and grime and injury and everything in between, reader being tied/chained up :(, vulgar cursing, crying, rowdy pirates, "keep the love interests away from each other" trope <3, ✨pure confusion✨, me torturing my characters once again yikes, ateez cameos !!, cellmates to (future) lovers !!
a/n ; uhm. hi. first off, i apologize for taking so long with this series KWHJKSDFK and second, i am also so sorry for what you're about to read o.0 this one's a real angsty part folks :') i swear i swear it gets better don't be too upset :(( i love writing this series so much (it's prob my favorite original story) and im so excited to hear yalls thoughts :D
cellmates masterlist.
a map of this universe is included at the end of the chapter !!!
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Cerulean beaches never quite looked like real beaches to you. The sand was as white as snow, the gentle lapping waters so bright they looked to be molten sapphires. It was all far too perfect to be naturally authentic. You were pleased to find that your boots left shallow imprints in the sand, disrupting the once pristine terrain.
Night was creeping upon you once again, and you were in desperate need for a good sleep. You were lucky that Yunho didn’t live very far off, also pleasantly surprised to find that you could even remember the way back (though admittedly, it took a considerable amount of backtracking).
The front of his little cottage was just as you remembered, albeit dark and somewhat dingy. None of the candles or oil lamps were lit and the curtains were drawn. The large expanse of his garden seemed somewhat unmaintained, weeds starting to sprout from between the wilting, once bright flowers.
You knocked against the door thrice, clasping your hands behind your back while you waited. How would Yunho react upon seeing you? What if he blamed you for losing Wooyoung? What if he didn’t believe you? What would you say then? Much like the first time you came to Yunho’s little cottage, tumultuous questions and irrational thoughts churned about in your mind.
It took a long while for you to realize that nobody had answered the door yet. You blinked, mystified, and raised a fist to rap on the wood again. You grew impatient rather quickly, knocks progressively becoming more frequent and hurried.
“Yunho?” You called out after about five minutes of waiting. By then, it was obvious that the man was either not home or avoiding you on purpose. And considering how friendly and sweet the pink-headed giant was the last you saw, you doubted it was the latter. “I’m coming in!”
The door opened in a fluid motion, knocking against the wall behind as you swung it open. You stepped inside tentatively, peering around with widened eyes. It was completely dark inside. So much so that it took you a few minutes for your eyes to properly adjust to the ill-lit hallway. Just as you had remembered, the small living room was to your left and quaint kitchen to your right, the winding staircase situated in the corner. The familiar scent of maple wood was still lingering in the air, although faint and almost imperceptible.
You shut the door behind you and toed off your boots, shuffling into the kitchen.
“Yunho?” Your voice eerily echoed in the empty cottage.
And so you made your way up the staircase, peering into the bedrooms. A heavy feeling gripped at your chest when you glanced into Yunho’s bedroom. That was where you and Wooyoung kissed… you could still remember the feeling of his arms wrapped around your waist, his warm breath on the back of your neck. You wondered what would’ve happened if you hadn’t stopped him. How far would the two of you have gone?
Shaking all thoughts of the past away, you bounded back down the stairs. There was no sign of Yunho at all. Just where could he be? You tried your best comforting yourself; perhaps he had gone out for a walk. Surely he’d be back soon.
Much to your dismay and gradually rising concern, Yunho didn’t show up at all. Not when the sun started to rise again, not when you passed out in sheer exhaustion on a kitchen stool (you couldn’t bring it in yourself to go back up to the bedrooms), and not even when you stirred back into consciousness, the late morning sun glaring at you harshly through the slivers between the curtains.
Your bones cracked and popped as you stood up and arched your back, rolling your stiff neck from side to side. From the pirate ship, you had brought little else than a knapsack full of gold you found in one of the cellars, food that could last you a couple days, water skins, and two sheathed daggers. Everything else on the ship was practically worthless, or too heavy to carry.
With a heavy sigh, you splashed water onto your face using the kitchen tap and patted your sleep-ruffled hair down. The skin around your wrists were still raw and stung when you rinsed away the crusted blood. You wished San had given you that coconut extract lotion; you couldn’t seem to find it anywhere on the ship. Guilt-stricken, you turned off the water and slung the knapsack over your good shoulder.
If Yunho was gone, then where else could you go? It seemed wrong to stay in his home without his knowing.
Air. You just needed air to clear up your mind.
Stepping outside felt like a mistake. Under the bright sunlight, you felt your head throb dully in agitation. The garden looked even more lamentable now than last night, the flowers drooping so far that their browning petals grazed the dry soil beneath. The air felt thick and heavy, and you huffed out several breaths to relax your tense muscles, shutting your eyes in the process.
“What are you doing?”
The voice was so sudden and unexpected, you couldn’t help but shriek, flinching back against the cottage door. You were met with an old man standing just shy of Yunho’s unkempt garden, his gaze confused and somewhat judgemental.
“W-What?” You muttered once regaining your scattered thoughts.
“I said,” the older man shot you an exasperated look. “What are you doing, waiting by that house? Nobody lives there.”
It felt as if cold water was dripping down your spine, and you crossed your arms over your chest, shivering slightly. “But… that can’t be true… Yunho lives here. He’s a, uhm, a baker, I think. This is his house.”
The old man regarded you like someone would look at a madman. There was something in his tone that told you that he wasn’t taking you seriously. “I’m sorry to say this, but nobody’s lived there for years and years. I’ve never heard of a baker named Yunho in this area.”
“No… but I was just here a few days ago with him…” Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip in thought. What was going on? Where could he have gone? What could’ve happened to him?
In your peripheral vision, you saw the old man hobble away, but not without stopping to glance back at you with narrowed eyes every few steps.
And then you remembered with a sharp intake of breath. You and Wooyoung were thrown into jail to fade away into nothing but legends… and now nobody believes you really exist… Wooyoung was thought to be dead by everybody… could the same be happening to his innocent, pink-haired friend? A dark, tar-slicked hand reached out into the confines of your chest and curled its slimy fingers around your palpitating heart in a steely grip.
They took Yunho. The realization had you slapping a palm to your mouth, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. It all made sense; the untended garden, the old man saying nobody’s lived here for years… it sickened you to think that the only reason you could remember him was because you weren’t in Cerulea when he ‘disappeared’.
“Oh, no. Oh, god, no!” You leaned against the door, overwhelmed. If they took Yunho, would they have Wooyoung, too? Did Wooyoung even come back to Cerulea? If he wasn’t here, then he’d be the only other person who remembered Yunho.
Just what the hell are you going to do now?
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It felt wrong to stay in Yunho’s empty little cottage with your newfound realization. The pirate ship was the second best option, but even that was much too far for your trembling legs; you doubted you’d even make it to the beaches, much less get in a small boat to row back to the anchored ship. Besides, the memory of San jumping off the side was one that you weren’t very keen on reliving.
And so, that was how you found yourself in front of an inn, only two cobbled roads away. The heavy door whined as you gently nudged it open, shuffling inside. Your heart was thumping against your ribcage so loudly that you could barely hear anything else. For once, you were glad that your name had faded into legend. To them, you were probably just another nobody.
The inn held the thick aroma of cheap alcohol and spritzer perfume. You glanced around curiously, noting the few people poking away at their breakfast and chugging down their frothy ales.
What looked to be the owner of the establishment was standing behind a counter, looking bored. He caught your eyes, and despite your head telling you to turn around and walk back to the pirate ship, you found yourself shuffling forward.
“What can I do for you?” The innkeeper asked, eyeing your haggard appearance.
Feebly, you pulled out a handful of gold coins and dropped them onto the wood of the counter. “Can I just get a room for the night? Will this be enough?”
The man across from you stared at you incredulously, his gaze flickering from the gold to your wide eyes. “Where’d you get all this money from? You didn’t steal it, did you?”
You blinked twice, shrugging your shoulders slightly. “They’re my savings.”
He looked upon you dubiously, but accepted the coins nonetheless. “You can have breakfast if you’d like. It comes with the room.”
Shaking your head slightly, you replied, “thanks, but I just want to get settled in for now. I’ll come down for luncheon.”
“Suit yourself,” the innkeeper quipped, sliding over a rusty key with eight engraved into its dull metal. “Head upstairs, turn left.”
And so that’s where you went, the wooden stairs creaking under your weight. You slotted the key into the lock of a door that had a large metal eight clearly displayed, and heaved the door open. By now, it felt as if your muscles were on fire. Everything seemed to be aching.
The first thing your eyes laid upon was a small bed, a thin, lavender-hued fleece wool blanket draped over the lumpy mattress and a single measly pillow propped up at its head. It took everything within you not to dive into the warmth of the woolen layer, but you managed to bide your time, even if it was just a couple minutes.
You toed off your boots, the soles of your feet practically numb. The pack that hung on your shoulder was next to come off, sliding down your arm and onto the bedside table. There was an unlit candle by the windowsill, but still more than enough light streaming in, seeing how it was still quite early in the morning.
The air smelled of breakfast from downstairs; consisting of, from what you saw, honeyed oatcakes and fruit tarts and rations of fried eggs and sausage. Your stomach was still quite empty, but you didn’t have the heart to go back. You needed time to think, time to rest.
After you nursed a few sips of water from a bottle in your knapsack, you finally allowed yourself to sink onto the bed, sighing out in contentment.
Everything felt so quiet, so still. This all felt like one of the stories you’d make up back when you were still in the cell. Perhaps it was all a bad dream, and you’d wake up in Wooyoung’s arms in Yunho’s little cottage, his lips littering soft kisses down the column of your throat until you stirred back into consciousness. A shiver ran through your spine and you sluggishly tucked the blanket up to your chin.
But since this wasn’t a dream, you found yourself at a loss.
“Oh, Wooyoung,” you whispered. “What should I do? Where are you?”
It was so quiet that you could imagine Wooyoung’s voice in your head saying, “Don’t worry about me. Just go. Get back on the ship and sail away and never look back.” You frowned at the thought, curling onto your side so that your knees were pressed up to your chest.
“I love you,” were the last words imaginary-Wooyoung murmured, before your mind grew blank. The silence that followed was what ultimately lulled you into a tranquil slumber.
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You were awoken partly from the light from outside angling directly into your shut eyes, and partly from the agitated growl emitting from your stomach. Blearily blinking the sleep away, you glanced around the room, fumbling for the bottle in the knapsack. After gulping down enough to quench your thirst, you slid out from underneath the purple blankets.
And following digging your knuckles into your eye sockets, you stumbled towards your boots, shoving your still-sore feet in. You didn’t bother lacing up the loose threads. After all, you were just going down for lunch, anyway.
Downstairs, the inn seemed far more crowded than it had been in the morning. A twinge of paranoia sang its trill song in the back of your mind, but you pushed the thoughts away, moving to sit on a dark stool in the corner.
“Slept well, I presume?” The innkeeper grinned slightly, raising an eyebrow at the state of your rumpled hair. “What’ll you have for luncheon, then?”
“Anything you have, I suppose,” you replied in a raspy tone, clearing your throat slightly.
A bowl of steaming rice and battered fish cubes slid across the counter, along with a side of warm bread and a slab of light canary-hued butter melting off the top. You were quick to tuck in, eating at a pace that would most probably have your stomach complaining in the near future.
The innkeeper looked like he wanted to ask you something, but ultimately didn’t get the chance as an influx of customers poured through the doors. You barely glanced upwards, wanting nothing more than to finish up your meal and head back upstairs to properly plan out what you were going to do. The growing crowd’s noise was starting to make you feel a little antsy.
A solid five minutes later, your bowl was already empty, save for sticky rice kernels stuck to the bottom. You dropped a gold coin next to the half-eaten buttery bread as a token of thanks for the innkeeper.
And when you hopped off the stool and looked forwards, you could practically feel your heart lurch into your throat. The sight of him was one that you never thought you’d see again, nor did you want to. You’d recognize him anywhere. He looked unchanged, the same roughly-shaven beard covering the expanse of his squared jaw, the jagged scar that trailed over his sallow cheekbones. Those damned stormy eyes, the same color as the princess’ silver necklace.
The man that had guarded your cell for God knows how long surveyed the chatting crowd with an ugly scowl imprinted onto his features, nose upturned as if he misliked being amongst the common folk. He moved away from the door, shoving past the common civilians milling about. The innkeeper was the first to notice the burly man’s presence, raising a questioning eyebrow.
“Hello, sir. How can I help you today?”
Completely skipping over any need for niceties, the guard held up an unfurled scroll, “We’re searching all nearby premises for a dangerous criminal. Looks like this.”
From your position, you couldn’t see what he was showing the innkeeper, but it was quite obvious that it was some sort of rough artistic rendition of you. Dread trickled into you as you watched his face morph into one of slight recognition.
You needed to leave. Right now.
The busy throng of civilians were used to your advantage as you silently weaved through the crowded inn, people you bumped into ranging from deliriously drunk to slightly tipsy. Your heartbeat was thundering far too loudly, to the point where you couldn’t hear what the guard was growling out. You were a couple meters behind him now… if he so much as looked backwards, you would be a dead person standing.
Shit. The knapsack. It was still in your room. You probably wouldn’t last two days without it. And so, you set off for upstairs, pace steadily growing quicker, in tandem with your palpitating heart rate.
Grab your pack, leave from the window, repeated itself over and over in your head, a mantra of panic and dread. Downstairs was too much of a risk.
You were running so quickly that your boots caught onto the wood of the stair steps, and you just about face planted against the bunt of the hard surface. Pain blossomed across your nose bridge and temple. Slightly disoriented, you pushed yourself back onto your feet and rushed away. No time. There was no time at all to get hurt. You needed to leave. What good were you to Yunho, to Wooyoung, if you were thrown back into a cell?
Utter relief sank its greedy claws into you as you burst into your room. No time, no time, no time, your own voice echoed in your head. You grabbed the knapsack and pushed at the window and—
“Shit!” You cursed angrily when the window didn’t budge, the cold panes wedged tightly against the wooden slats. It was then that you noticed the bolted lock clipping the window pane and wooden framing together. “Oh, fuck.” Your breaths came out as tight, staggered pants.
Before you could decide on what to do next, you heard shrill screaming come from downstairs, the terrible sound of steel against flesh reaching your ears. There was nowhere to go from here. You were trapped.
Practically hyperventilating at this point, you scurried back to the door. Perhaps if you went downstairs and blended into the crowd, you could get out without anybody else noticing.
But alas, you never got the chance. Because just as you turned into the hall, you were met with the horrendous sight of the stormy-eyed guard, the very same one that you saw every single day you were in that rotten cell, an appalling look of triumph splayed across his rugged features.
A leering grin twisted his ugly features in such a horrid manner that it took all you had in you not to retch. You noticed the way his sword was unsheathed, a ripe shade of carmine trickling down its sleek blade. No doubt that’s the innkeeper’s blood, you thought solemnly.
Before you could react, the guard’s calloused hand shot out to grab your forearm, pulling you along with him so roughly that you stumbled onto the floor, hands and knees scraping against the wood in a manner that had your skin torn and bleeding. Feebly, you attempted to grab at anything to hit him with, to hold on to out of desperation. With no remaining patience, the monster of a man yanked you upwards by the throat. Choked gasps left you as your hands darted up to claw at his clenching fingers, but you immediately stiffened when he snarled out something that had your blood running cold.
“The Gods have been kind to you today, girl. I would have you speared right here… have you bleeding out until all the life has been drained right out of you.” His putrid breath fanned across your neck as you struggled in his iron-clad grip fruitlessly. “Lucky for you, the princess has personally requested you be brought back alive.”
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It was dark outside when Wooyoung cracked his eyelids open for the second time. Through the window across from him, he could see a plethora of stars speckled across a blanket of raven black, glinting and winking at him through the glass. The room he was in was beautifully decorated, stone arches elegantly curving just below the ceiling and intricate flame holders spaced out on the pristine walls. The candles bathed the room in a gentle honey-like luminescence; calming and tranquil, almost a sedative. All of his previous aches and pains were now dulled to gentle numbness.
Where am I?
“Glad to see you’re back awake. You’re not going to pass out on me again, are you?”
Wooyoung nearly screamed at the sudden voice from beside him, flinching so hard that the crown of his skull knocked against the bed’s headboard. He hissed in pain, face contorting into a grimace.
The elf (Yeosang was his name, Wooyoung faintly recalled) muffled a snort underneath his breath before swiftly pulling up a chair and sitting beside him, “Does it still hurt anywhere? I tried to heal your wounds with sarcio essence, but seeing that you’re human, it’ll take a bit longer for you to recover. You took quite a beating, you know.”
Wooyoung tried to speak, but the dryness in his throat made it hard to speak.
“Oh, here.” The attentive elf poured cold water from a pitcher into a small cup, handing it over to Wooyoung. He gingerly drank, swallowing with great effort.
“Where… where am I?”
After pursing his lips in thought, Yeosang bowed his head slightly, glancing at the tight bandages wrapped around the dark-headed man’s torso. “You’re in Nymaeden.”
“Nymaeden?!” Wooyoung just about shrieked. His bruised features twisted in agony. Perhaps he shouldn’t have shouted. Then, in a much softer tone, he mumbled out, “how did I get here?”
He was, most likely, all the way across the world from you. Although his mind was still heavily clouded, you were still fresh and prominent in his mind. He hoped you were okay… left tied up on that pirate ship… Gods, this was all his fault… What a fool he was, thinking you’d be okay after all that you’d gone through. You probably thought that he was dead.
The blond elf arched an eyebrow. “You don’t remember?” When Wooyoung shook his head in hesitant denial, Yeosang continued on patiently, leaning forward.
“It was just three nights ago…”
The waters were cold, seeping into his flesh and bones, filling every one of his orifices, the salt trickling into him like sand down an hourglass. He could feel it drip into his lungs. Bubbles of his life slipped past his cracked-open lips and Wooyoung, with what little energy he had left to spare, lifted his fingers and tried to catch the small globules of air. The sticky blood that clung onto his skin like honey dissipated into the ocean, staining the waters a darker, sinister hue.
Wooyoung closed his eyes. His limp body sank further and further down. This was the end.
But was it?
Mermaids, being curious and spirited creatures they were, watched the injured handsome man drift across the ocean, crimson blood seeping out of his wounds. They had seen how he was thrown off the ship, how he had fought when he was onboard. They took pity on him. Even unconscious, a pain, far deeper-rooted than his physical cuts and gashes, was quite obviously splayed across his features. It was the face of a man with an utterly broken heart. He had just lost something very dear to him, that was made abundantly clear.
The small group of mermaids glanced at each other worriedly, almost immediately reaching a mutual consensus. In a swarm of colorful scales and wispy locks of hair, they swam towards the unmoving body.
One of them shamelessly prodded at him, ogling him with widened eyes, and they waited with baited breath. Wooyoung did not awaken. And so, two of the elegant creatures wrapped their arms around his leaking torso, and jolted into a brisk swim, carrying him across the oceans. Wooyoung’s raven hair pulled away from his face, revealing the deep gashes across his paling skin. A thinning trail of his blood followed them. They had to be quick; this man was just on the verge of greeting death.
They were taking him to Nymaeden, the land of the Elves. The elvish folk were the best healers they knew, and they were rather fond of the mermaids. Perhaps they would be willing to heal this unfortunate soul.
“We found you on the beaches,” Yeosang said in a discolored tone. “You were… you were practically dead. It was a miracle we got your heart rate back up, really. You’re either an incredibly thick-skulled fighter or… you’re just a coward afraid of death.”
Wooyoung winced at the elf’s stinging remark. Which was it? Was he running away from what was inevitable? What was he fighting for?
Y/N, the small voice in his head chimed. Wooyoung swallowed heavily.
“These mermaids… could I speak to them? Maybe they saw where the pirate ship went!”
Almost immediately, Yeosang shook his head. “I’m sorry, the mermaids are long gone now. They’re due up North, and I doubt they’d come back anytime soon.” There was a whicker of sympathy hidden behind his molten hazel irises. “Do you have any other plans? We can’t exactly keep you here in the medbay for all eternity.”
For a second, Wooyoung’s ragged breathing stilled.
“Pirates,” he murmured under his breath unsurely, just loud enough for the elf to pick up. “Where can I find them?”
Rearing back, Yeosang hissed out, “you must’ve hit your head harder one too many times, human. You were almost in death’s bony grasp, and now you want to go back?”
“I don’t care!” Wooyoung erupted, flinging his hands upward, despite his muscles screeching in agony. “It’s not about me anymore. I left her on that ship… and I have to get her back. Please, Yeosang. Please.”
There was a beat of tense silence. Yeosang was no longer looking at the pleading injured man, but his head angled towards the window, gazing at the pale moon that decorated the night’s horizon in deep thought.
“You mustn’t tell anyone,” the blonde elf warned, narrowing his eyes. Wooyoung nodded vehemently. “Elves and pirates don’t mesh well together, I’m sure you know. Pirates are nowhere to be found in this country, they know well enough to steer clear of our waters. However… if you head westward past our nation’s border, you’ll find yourself in Cinisia. It might look like a small, harmless country, but I’m afraid you’d be gravely mistaken. Cinisia is perhaps the most dangerous country on the maps. Along their west coast, there’s an illegal trading market. Pirates swarm the coast like ants would spilt honey. If you’re looking for pirates, I’d bet all my silvers they’re there.”
Wooyoung took a moment to contemplate this. “How do you know of this market?”
“I’ve got into muddy territory with pirates myself,” he uttered with a stormy expression. A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I have said this before. Elves and pirates? Not the best of friends, I can tell you that.”
Releasing a shuddering sigh, Wooyoung asked one final question. “Do you think I’ll find them? Do you think I’ll get Y/N back?”
Yeosang leveled a cold gaze with the dark-haired man, before gracefully rising to his feet and striding towards the door. “I’ll get you a map and traveling clothes and rations. You can leave at first light, so get some sleep. You’ll be needing it.”
A sinking feeling weighed heavily in Wooyoung’s stomach. He hadn’t answered the question.
Right before he left, Yeosang paused by the arched doorway and spoke once more without even turning to look at him. “And just so you know… if you make it out of that market alive and empty handed… I want you back here in Nymaeden. There’s something I want to offer you.”
The elf left in a blur of sage fabrics and soft flaxen locks. The honeyed flames of the candles withered inwards with his departure, faint tails of smoke dissipated into the air. The room faded into darkness, but Wooyoung was far too afraid to shut his eyes.
He was scared of dreaming of you.
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That morning was one of the toughest he’s ever had. Yeosang had handed him a pack of traveling rations and equipment, bidding him adieu with a stout nod of his angular face. His muscles groaned and screamed with agony with his every step. The trek to Cinisia took hours upon hours, with hardly a break. Wooyoung was far too jittery to stop. He had to keep going. Creeks babbled with glowing water and the trees whispered poems in the wind, their alluring shadows offering a tempting sanctuary.
The contrast between Nymaeden and Cinisia was startling. Whilst the former was a luscious country of opals and forestry and pale elegant fortresses climbing to the sky, the latter was… well, it was quite hard to tell what anything looked like past the thick red smog lacing the horizon. The air stank of ale and smoke.
Definitely pirate territory, Wooyoung surmised grimly.
The shrill noises of whistling and hollering was a telltale sign that he was close. Wooyoung stepped over weather-beaten rocks, peering around the rocky cliff ledge to see hundreds, perhaps even thousands of ruffians gathered together in a colorful flurry of stolen fabrics, foods, and riches that seemed all the more glorious under the sweltering sun. Now, it smelled strongly of stale fruitcakes and gunpowder and sweat. Not the best of aromas, that was for sure. There were also pirates yelling out indiscernible prices that seemed to climb with every shout. He was pretty sure he saw a couple of them scuffling in a fight, some landing a couple square punches (most missed because they seemed to be too drunk to aim properly) on the nose before brushing their injuries off as if it were nothing.
What an awful place. Wooyoung could only hope you weren’t here. Well, no, that was a blatant lie. He’d do anything to see you again.
After digging his knuckles into his eye sockets to wipe his weariness away, he blinked the colored spots away from his vision with a melancholic sigh. Gods, he was tired. Unfortunately, he had little time to lament, so he pushed himself onwards.
Wooyoung seemed to blend in just perfectly; he was thankful Yeosang decided to pack in a tattered cloak. The rest of the pirates didn’t seem to bat an eye. Standing in the middle of a throng of filthy seamen, it was hard for Wooyoung not to double over and retch. His roiling stomach didn’t aid his precarious state one bit.
Though everything seemed to be a cacophony of rowdy pirates and the clattering of illegal trade, Wooyoung picked up on a particular chunk of dialogue exchanged between a gaggle of men.
“Have you heard of the siren incident? Yeah, it happened near the Isles of Odralle! Can you believe? Ship was fuckin’ headed to the capital of Odralle, but they had a sudden change of plans; suddenly wanted to go to Aurecia. Cocky bastards think they can sell anything to anyone nowadays, yeah? Good thing the sirens took them. Wonder if they were tasty, though. Stupidity fouls the meat, my father used to say,” one of the pirates rambled as he slurped on his ale.
“Your father was a jackass,” another snorted, pounding on his chest with laughter. “What the fuck is a ‘siren incident’? I swear you lot gossip ten times more than me wife does.”
A third pirate shoved at his shoulder, a look of incredulity painting across his tanned features. “How have you not heard? A famous pirate ship - maybe one of the most famous ones in history - got lured into siren territory! The whole crew’s gone. Ship wreckage hasn’t been found. Nobody’s heard or seen them at all. My guess is that they made a calculation mistake and went off navigation charts once switching from Odralle to Aurecia. Then the sirens… got the best of ‘em.”
This elicited a gasp from the fourth in the group. “Wait! The big ship with the peg-leg captain with just one eye? Damn, just hearing stories about him gives me the creeps. Legend had it that he defeated not one, but two fuckin’ krakens during a storm! His ship flag is, er, the red and gold one… with a skull, right? And the skull’s laying in blood and swords?”
Wooyoung felt his blood run cold.
He knew that flag. The flag they were describing… was exactly the one he saw before they took you… before they threw him out for the sharks…
And before Wooyoung could even think it through, he found his body jerking forward, pushing past the bystanders and throwing himself into the gossip circle with all but a mangled growl escaping his throat. He yanked the last pirate to speak forward by the collar until the tanned man’s face was so close, his nose brushed against Wooyoung’s. The rest of the gang immediately quelled their incessant yammering, eyes growing wide in interest. Some placed their hands onto the hilts of their curved swords as a precaution, but they didn’t want to do anything hasty. After all, they loved a good fight.
“WHEN WAS THIS?” Wooyoung was glad his voice didn’t crack as he yelled, shaking the stricken pirate by the collar. “There was… there was a woman on that boat. She can’t be gone! She can’t be dead!”
They all looked at him as if he were crazy.
And after a second longer, Wooyoung’s grip loosened. It seemed he was a little rougher than first anticipated, because the fabric around the tanned pirate’s neck was crumpled and one of the pearly buttons came loose, dangling by a thin thread. He staggered backwards two steps, painfully sucking in lungfuls of rancid air.
Were you… were you gone? Was that it? Had you succumbed to the siren’s sweet song of death?
“Mate,” the tanned pirate spoke up with a lilt of sympathy in his tone. “There was never any woman on that ship. And besides, the ship hasn’t actually been found yet.”
The fire of hope that once burned brightly within the hearth of Wooyoung’s chest, was now but a dying ember. However, the man’s words gently blew on the warm ash until a new flame ignited. This was a different kind of hope. Who knows, maybe you had managed to escape the sirens. For all that was good on this planet, Wooyoung hoped you were still alive.
It was then that the most peculiar thing happened.
A man (if he could even be considered a man) - perhaps one of the ethereal beings he’s ever set his eyes upon - strode up to the circle of pirates, leveling his stormy gaze with Wooyoung. His hair was a shocking shade of pink, laying in loose strands across his forehead. A dirtied tunic hung over his shoulders in tatters, ripped and frayed in too many places to count. The belt that cinched around his waist was lopsided and unbuckled, dangling to the floor. The trousers he was wearing, a dusted shade of raven’s wing, was in the same state of disarray as his tunic. He was a mess, and Wooyoung could see a thick film of distraught glazing his eyes.
“My name is San,” he rasped. “And I was on that pirate ship.”
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The marble was cold beneath your scraped knees. Your eyes studied the golden rivets decorating the pale white floor, splintering off into branches of aureate, though it was quite difficult to see through the bruises and unyielding blood obscuring your vision. If your hands weren’t bound behind your back, you would’ve at least tried to staunch the crimson seeping out of the fresh cut you sported across your temple. The guards had thrown kicks and punches everywhere they could reach until you had stopped struggling, every fibre of your being felt nothing but raw pain and the kind of anger that left you completely and utterly exhausted.
You just… you wanted it to all be over.
However, with the King and Queen sitting tall and proud just meters in front of you, you highly doubted things would be resolved at the snap of a finger. Beside their majesties sat the rest of the royal bloodline, dainty crowns of lustrous tawny and glinting silvers resting upon their regal heads.
They made you sick.
“I must say,” the Queen purred at last, placing her chin on her palm while gazing at you with a malevolent smile, irises of amethysts glinting in the cold light. “It’s impressive how you managed to escape the dungeons in your condition. Even got yourself a pretty little boat and everything.”
You could feel yourself blanching. How did she know about the pirate ship you left by the beaches?
“As I’m sure you’re aware by now, Y/N is only but a legend. Though nobody truly believes you’re real, you are still very much respected throughout the nation. And since you’re regarded so highly amongst the common folk,” the King rumbled, clasping his hands together with a smug leer tracing his lips. “You’ll be made a lowly servant for the lovely Princess, Amarelia.” He gestured further down the line, to a sweet young girl barely of age. The Princess was a frail thing, with skin of dove’s wings and lips of sweet peaches and lashes that kissed the apples of her cheeks. She somewhat resembled a fawn, what with her large eyes and innocently placant features. Her curled sienna locks were gathered into an elegant updo, showcasing the glimmering silver laces on her dainty neck.
The very ones that you tried to steal so long ago, and the entire reason you were even here. That necklace was what made you a well-known myth in Cerulea.
Anger broiled deep within you, but you kept your mouth clamped shut. There were guards ready to strike if you moved even a centimeter, and you decided to play it safe for now.
There was something you were practically dying to ask, though.
What did you do to Yunho?
“To welcome you into servitude,” the Queen surveyed you with hooded eyes. “Crawl to Amarelia and kiss her shoes. Thank us for not having you executed on the spot. Perhaps it shall give you an idea of your rank in this castle. You are nothing to us.”
“Mother!” The Princess gasped in protest with something akin to pity and horror melding into her soft complexion. It was clear that the sweet dove wanted nothing to do with this. In a way, you felt sorry for her as well.
Nobody paid her any mind.
With a heavy heart, you started shuffling towards the Princess. Pain and humiliation blossomed across your skin like flames crawling over oiled wood. A part of you considered standing your ground, lifting your head high, refusing to obey any of her commands. And you would’ve, truly. But… Yunho. If there was even the slightest chance he was alive and kept hostage because of you, you needed to remain on your best behavior. For his sake and even perhaps for your own.
Once in front of her, you dipped your head to quickly brush your lips against her fine cream flats, immediately straightening your spine with a grimace afterwards. Amarelia regarded you with a sympathetic look.
The guards stepped forward to roughly drag you back to your original spot. Your mind barely registered the cold sensation of metal clamping around your neck, the rattling of chains a ghostly echo in your ears. The Queen was grinning so widely it was a wonder her face didn’t split in half. It took everything you had in you not to spit onto the floor in defiance.
When they started tugging you towards the grand double doors, you realized that you couldn’t just sit around and allow them to throw you around like a ragdoll. You kicked out your feet in resistance, ignoring the cinching pain of the metal around your neck, boots thudding against the smooth marble surface. The guards swore under their breath, pulling you along ever harder.
“WHERE’S YUNHO?” Your hoarse voice ripped across the throne room. “DID YOU KILL HIM? DID YOU KILL YUNHO?! LET GO OF ME! YOU MURDERER!” The small quirk of the Queen’s perfect eyebrows had you spouting out obscenities, rage bubbling over your struggling form.
Double-doors swung open, and with that action brought the largest crowd you’ve ever seen in your life. There must’ve been thousands - no, hundreds of thousands of people out there. And they’ve all come for you. The myth and the legend. Y/N L/N.
It was all so sudden. You didn’t even remember how you got to the front of the highrise platform, being forced back onto your knees with a grunt. There were common folk and wealthy lords alike littered about the ocean of heads. Some looked to be terrified, others watching on with hanging lips of awe.
You swallowed heavily.
“Behold!” The King bellowed from somewhere behind you. There was a sneering lilt to his tone that made you want to spring upwards and knock his teeth out. “Your beloved Y/N!”
The crowd in front of you erupted into pandemonium. It was a strange and overwhelming cacophony of displeased boos and excited screams.
“A legend and a hero to some of you, I’m sure,” the Queen hummed, somehow instantaneously quieting the buzzing mass of people. “Now diminished to a mere servant. Y/N L/N is nothing, and acting like they are worth any bit more than scum will lead to treason. I’m truly sorry to disappoint some of you.”
She didn’t seem sorry at all. The crowd practically roared at that, most especially the commoners at the back, yelling curses until their throats were raw as they threw moldy apple cores at the guards.
You hung your head in shame, gaze trained to the wood slants of the stage. Hushed murmurs travelled about the rest of the crowd like waves gently crashing against shore. You were alone on this beach, it seemed.
Truly, utterly alone.
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You must’ve had the worst luck in the world.
No matter how much you’ve fought, struggled, resisted, it always ended up the same. With you kept captive. That musty jail cell because of a damned necklace, then bound on the pirate ship to be sold off in Aurecia (a part of your heart sunk at the memory of the friendly fairy-pirate San jumping overboard)… and now a different cell, your wrists chained to the cobbled wall behind you. Your arms were sore yet numb, almost having lost any feeling in them, but that was the least of your concerns.
It was bright here, unlike your first cell. Back then it was always dark, and always cold. There was a crackling fire across the room, licking hungrily at the burning wood, casting amber phantoms across the expanse of your place of confinement. It wouldn’t be long until the fire died out and you’d be shivering once more. There was also a small window, but it was far away from your reach, and you wouldn’t even bother to try, considering your arms were laced above your head.
Being back in the castle had your mind racing. Everything had been so loud outside. But now that you were alone with only your own thoughts to accompany you, it almost felt suffocatingly quiet. The silence was deafening, roaring awful things into your ears.
You missed Wooyoung. What would he do in your position? You hoped he wasn’t here, truly. He deserved to be happy elsewhere. But you couldn’t deny that a small part of you wished he was back here with you.
Face it, he’s not coming to save you, the snarky voice in your head spat out. Nobody is. You’re on your own. You have to save yourself.
It was at that moment the door creaked open. A man with silver hair slid in, grimness splayed across his defined features, like the wiry shadows of tree branches marring the warm light of the room. You spotted the medical kit he clutched in his sure hands.
He was the royal healer. It somewhat surprised you that the King and Queen sent him. Perhaps it was Princess Amarelia’s doing; she seemed to have a pure enough heart. Her parents, on the other hand…
“Are you alright?” His voice was a soft thing, a mere whisper, almost lost to the loud snapping of the fireplace. Hesitance was evident in his tone, accompanied with stinging sympathy. “I apologize, that was a foolish question. Of course you’re not, that’s why I’m here. My name is Seonghwa, I’m the royal healer for this castle. May I?” He brandished a bottle of strange blue ointment and cotton patches. You had just been humiliated and degraded in front of thousands of people, and now a royal healer was apologizing to you? He was certainly giving you whiplash.
After pausing for the slightest of moments, you dipped your head just slightly, still waiting for something bad to happen.
“Sarcio essence,” Seonghwa murmured gently as he doused the patch with the blue liquid. “Ceruleans steal it from the elves of Nymaeden. Its healing abilities are unlike anything we’ve ever seen. Ever since magic, of course. But that’s a thing of the past now. Magic is illegal in Cerulea. Not sure if you heard while you were down there in your cell.”
That made a frown flicker across your face. Cerulea, the ever-perfect country, needing to steal things from other kingdoms?
And with another stout nod, Seonghwa leaned forward to swipe at your fresh wounds and bruises, cleaning away the dried blood with nimble movements. It stung at first, restrained hisses escaping your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut. It felt like your skin was burning, and everything was on fire and the silent monsters were screaming your name.
“It’s a good thing if it stings a little. That’s your body working to put itself together.”
It was silent for a long time. You had to clamp your teeth down on your bottom lip so as to not let him hear your pathetic winces of pain.
The healer seemed to notice this, brows furrowing. “You don’t have to try to be strong around me, Y/N. You’re hurting, and it’s okay to show that. I won’t think any less of you.”
You eyed him with somewhat of a dubious aura, before bobbing your head for the last time. “Thank you,” you muttered brokenly.
Seonghwa hummed softly in response, screwing the cap back onto the sarcio essence.
The familiar creak of the door swinging open floated across the rooms, and you snapped your head upwards. Even the healer appeared to be surprised, bowing his head low at the newcomers. Also known as, if you had to put it eloquently, the true and utter banes of your existence. If you were the single flickering candle, they would be the tornados constantly whispering your flame good night.
It was the King and the Queen, draped in a waterfall of golden lace, diaphanous silver silks, and striking tones of mauve matching the hue of their angry irises. They held their heads high, looking at you as if you were the shit stuck on the bottom of their fine shoes.
“Leave us,” the Queen commanded Seonghwa without even glancing in the direction of the medic. She kept her gaze trained on you, and only you. Silently, he left the room with not another word, shuffling out of the door, unable to spare you one last sympathetic glimpse.
After surveying you, the Queen graced you with what seemed to be a smirk, and beckoned towards the guards behind her.
“Bring him in,” she said, practically dripping with delighted malice.
What happened next had you choking on your own gasps, tears immediately rimming your eyes like frost sitting atop tree branches on a harsh wintry morning. It had your stomach curling into itself, nausea climbing up your throat, begging to escape. A scream, so disgustingly raw and broken that it didn’t sound like your own voice echoed throughout the room.
They threw a peach-haired man in front of you, and he crumpled to the ground as if he were nothing more than a stringless puppet. If you thought that you were hurt, it was absolutely nothing in comparison to the sweet baker that you were so very fond of. He looked to be half dead already, bruises mapping the expanse of his pallid skin as abundant as there were stars in the sky. His once-bright pink strands of hair now looked a sullen grey, as if all the life had been seeped out of him. Dried blood crusted his cuts and gashes, littered all over his shivering form. You swore, with every fiber of your being, you were going to kill whoever hurt him.
“YUNHO!” You cried, heart lodged in your throat. The soft giant who had once been so boisterous, laid unmoving on the cobblestone floor. Kicking against the wall, you yanked away at your manacles fruitlessly until your wrists grew raw, wanting nothing more than to fall to your knees and crawl to him and ask if he was alright. It didn’t matter that you were hurting yourself in the process, you just… you wanted to get out of these chains, out of here, away from everything.
How dare they?
Tears were rolling down the apples of your cheeks, conjoining at your jaw and dripping mercilessly onto the ground. A constant drip, drip, drip of your pain made loud and clear to everybody else in the room.
You were so furious, so heartbroken, that you had forgotten anybody else existed for a short second. It was a shame that you were only reminded when one of the guards stalked up with the King’s nod of approval, gripping Yunho by his faded locks and yanking him upwards. His face didn’t seem to even flinch, numb and desensitized.
Was Yunho gone? No… no, he couldn’t possibly be…
A confusing concoction of sobs and desperate pleas and hiccups tumbled past your lips far too quickly for even you to understand yourself
The events that transpired rushed by in an indecipherable blur. You could barely pick up what the Queen murmured.
“This beloved baker friend of yours…” she cocked her head to the side in mock-thought, purple eyes flashing dangerously. “He is strong, I’ll give you that. However, he seems quite adamant not to give us any information about the other prisoner, Wooyoung. They were childhood best friends, no? I’m sure you remember him, don’t you?”
Your heart stopped at the sound of his name.
How dare you? How dare you? How dare you? The mantra reverberated in your skull until it was all you could think, staining your mind with an inky, poisonous black.
The mocking sympathy evident in her tone had you thrashing against your bonds all the more. “And alas… I’m afraid we no longer have any use for him.”
Just like that, the guard holding Yunho upwards drove his longsword clean through the gentle baker’s abdomen, dropping him to the floor. An ungodly wail tore from your vocal chords, resonating across the room and painting wicked smiles across the two royal leaders of Cerulea. Much to your horror, Yunho uttered no sound, merely dropping onto the stone with a thud. Crimson pooled at his wound so quickly, that the rose-hued ichor grazed against your feet in a matter of seconds. You stopped struggling, the drumming of your heart loud in your ears.
Since your gaze hadn’t left Yunho’s unmoving body, you didn’t even noticed the Queen sidestepping the puddle of blood, forcing your eyes away by gripping your slick face with one of her cold hands. You tried to pull your cheeks away, but it was as if her fingers were steel. Her purple eyes were so close to yours, you could see the flecks of aureate gold embedded within the enticing lilac. The Queen flashed you a charming smile, as if she hadn’t just murdered your friend in cold blood. It seemed she noticed your pounding heart rate, because she murmured an incantation in old Cerulean that you couldn’t quite pick up. In an instant, you could feel yourself relaxing in her grip, wrists going slack in the cuffs, the muscle in your chest thumping slower and slower. A part of you was afraid it would grind to a stop.
Her pearly whites flashed as she grinned evilly. The lavender in her eyes darkened drastically, to the point where any trace of gold disappeared completely.
“We didn’t kill Yunho,” she leaned closer and whispered into your ear, her tawny locks tickling the side of your face. “Killing is barbaric.”
There was an old story of a gingerbread man and a fox crossing a river you often heard retellings of during your childhood. The fox swore up and down that he wouldn’t eat the gingerbread man whilst helping him cross the river. As suspicious as the gingerbread man was at first, he eventually climbed onto the sly fox’s back, naive with hope. The fox arrived at the other side of the river alone and with a full stomach.
It seemed you were the foolish gingerbread man and the Queen was the fox. The Queen’s magic seeped into your being, clouding your mind in a dangerous haze you could no longer fight.
You believed her.
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kaygee-doodles · 3 years ago
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Nautilus
I was just going to write a thing to get it out of my system, but it’s gotten really long and anyways, this is about a Reader and @uhhbananafrappe Myth Monster Nautilus because I have a hard weakness for deep sea stuff.
You were going to go down in history as the world's last Megalodon casualty.
Which was a pretty stupid thing to think, even if it was accurate.
It wasn't like you had gone in blind. You were a fairly experienced diver, and had researched the area thoroughly. Just past the shoals, down the ocean drop-off, lay a graveyard.
The corpses of ships lay in the double digits, old hulls torn apart by rocks and time alike. Nobody sailed through there commercially, only divers looking for the thrill of derelict diving, touring through the twisted ship remains or photographers hoping to catcht he beauty of the reef fish. Even that had it's dangers, derelict divers got lost or stuck all the time. This graveyard alone had seen several people go missing last season, all looking to explore the forgotten ships or sight see in the beautiful reefs.
But you were there for something much older.
With little traffic, the silt and sand lay still. With so many rocks and ships blocking the currents, the ocean floor lay flat (well, as flat as it ever was). Which meant you were far more likely to uncover your prize: Fossilized Megalodon Teeth.
They sold for a pretty penny, and you wouldn't complain about adding to your fossil collection if a good specimen came along. As it turned out, there were quite a few to be found! But it was always that allure of Just One More.
This one, you had promised yourself, was going to be your last. It was huge, one of the largest you'd ever seen, and heavy. Maybe stuck under a submerged bit of branch or metal from the ships? You had given a solid yank, and the tooth had come free. Right into your leg.
So here you were. Bleeding out into the ocean for all the sharks to smell, and you were stuck at-depth waiting for it to be safe to rise a little more. You had gotten nitrogen narcosis before, and while you might be able to punch a shark, you knew you couldn't punch a shark if you were high of your body's own inability to handle fast pressure changes.
And you were almost positive there was a shark around. Everything was...still. Fish were still doing fish things, but in tighter clusters, roiling little masses that screamed 'trouble'. Nervously, you checked your timer. Five minutes.
Around you, the current shifted, a slow roll of water from behind that almost flipped you upside down. Something had moved. Something way bigger than a shark. Something way faster than a whale. Silt kicked up below you, and what you thought was a shadow of a ships' hull was just...gone.
Fuck it, up, up, up! You kicked off with your feet, your flippers propelling you towards the too-far-away surface.
Terror seized you at the same time something else did. Sharks didn't grab people. Squid? Octopus?? You twisted wildly, jerking the accosted limb. Something had grabbed your flipper, and pulled it clean off, much to the pain of your already stabbed leg, the straps pulling and skinning your foot as it went. You couldn't scream, of you'd lose your breather.
You glanced down. And screamed.
Inches below you. This thing was inches below you, holding your leg in a deathgrip with a triple-wrapped boneless arm, and inspecting your flipper in. Its. Hands.
It had hands. It had four hands. Attached to four humanoid arms. Like some kind of spider-mermaid hybrid. Below you, below it, in the churning sand, you found found your answer to the klaxon of WTF sounding in your head. You kind of wished you hadn't.
Tentacles, hooked and huge. A Squid. Abyssal Squid. One of the Deep Giants. You were about to be eaten by the Kracken. Somehow, not better than death by Megalodon.
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raindownforme · 3 years ago
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Writing Event
Hi! I was tagged by @jschllatt for a writing event, and this is for her!
———
5. Charlie slimecicle x reader [they/them used] (reader had freckles for context)
y/n stirred in their sleep, doing their best to shift with the almost unfamiliar weight. Almost, as if they didn’t know what it felt like to have someone else laying on top of them.
“Charlie?”
“No no no, go back to sleep.”
y/n peeked one eye open, looking at their boyfriend. Charlie was lazily propped up on one arm, the rest of his weight draped over y/n’s once sleeping self.
“Good morning I guess.” y/n tried to move, but found themself still stuck under Charlie. He had a leg wrapped between theirs and a hand holding the side of their face. “Can I get up yet?”
“No wait I’m counting.” Charlie’s voice was hushed, just above a whisper. y/n watched him squint as he focused on various points of their face.
“Maybe you’d be quicker if you put your glasses on.”
Charlie gasped, letting go of y/n’s face to reach over to the bedside table. He returned with his glasses resting on his nose, starting to fall off from the angle. “Okay. Now I have to start over.”
“Do we have to do this right now?” y/n yawned.
“Aw, you’re adorable. And yes I do.”
“Babe, I want to get up. Can you do this later? Some other time I’m asleep?”
“Fine I’ll stop counting.”
“Thank you.”
“Now it’s time to play connect-the-dots!” Charlie pulled y/n closer with his legs. He began to very gently drag his finger across the surface of y/n’s skin, following made-up patterns and lines.
y/n hummed lowly, feigning annoyance with their boyfriend. “Can you stop playing connect-the-dots with my freckles?”
Charlie drew back his touch. “Fine.” He rolled over, releasing y/n from his weight, and rolled over.
y/n propped themselves upright, frowning. “Don’t tell me you’re upset?”
Charlie mumbled a response and y/n leaned closer to try and hear him. He leaned closer a bit as well, repeating himself. “I wanted to see.”
“They aren’t even patterns, it’s just dots.”
“No, these ones-“ Charlie turned back and very gently put his thumb over the side of their face, right over where the cheek bones began and to the side of the outer corner of their eye. “It’s almost a triangle shape. Or a couple triangles. There a couple patterns, you just don’t see them.”
y/n paused, almost freezing under Charlie’s touch, then leaned into the contact. “Fine.”
“Fine?”
“Get back here and keep counting loser.”
y/n opened their arms, allowing Charlie to get back to his previous position in the shared bed and continue happily connecting the dots.
———
8. Charlie Slimecicle x reader [they/them]
y/n shivered. It was that kind of early morning cold. The being on a leather car seat while the wind whipped outside. The early morning chill of January.
y/n and Charlie knew this was coming. They’d known for two months know. Earlier, in the beginning of November when they planned the trip, neither one of them felt the sadness they feel now. They’d both been happy; y/n had the ability to come stay the whole month with Charlie. Usually, the couple could only see each other a few weeks out of the year. Usually it was Charlie with the looser schedule, and usually that made Charlie the one to drive or fly the distance between them.
y/n stared out the window lazily. There weren’t very many people out on the roads at this hour. They watched the grey industrial buildings pass as Charlie turned into the airport, going up to the third floor of the parking garage and finding an empty spot.
y/n quietly and slowly unbuckled themself from the car. They left the car, turning to see Charlie already holding their large suitcase. y/n smiled at him, small tears coming to their eyes. They reached out politely, trying to take it from him.
“No I want it.”
“It’s okay, it’s not even yours.”
“Let me. Please?”
y/n gave in with a smile, taking Charlie’s free hand in theirs as they let Charlie lead them into the airport. They made their way across the patterned carpet to the check-desk.
“Hi there.” There was a lone employee working the front desk. She extended a hand outwards. “Boarding pass and ID please?” y/n fished though their carry-on bag, bringing forth the paper and plastic card. The employee scanned it and looked over at their computer. “Alright, just you y/n?”
“Yes.” y/n knew it wasn’t meant to be cruel, but the words still dug at their skin and itched at their bones. Just them. No Charlie. They’d be alone. Again.
“Alright. That’ll be gate 36B. Unfortunately, sir, you can’t come to the gate.”
“What the farthest I can come?” Charlie glanced over to y/n.
“Just to TSA.”
“Is there any way?”
“I’m sorry I can only bend that rule if you’re accompanying a minor.”
Charlie nodded and the couple walked away. They walked towards the large LED bord that displayed the flight information. y/n watched Charlie scan it with squinted eyes.
“401 right? Flight 401? We’ve got— shit.” Charlie frowned. “40 minutes. We move gotta get you through security.”
“We?”
Charlie looked back to y/n. They had tears brimming their eyes and were fiddling with a loose string on the sleeve of their sweater. They were still wearing Charlie’s sweater.
“I guess I can’t take you any further.”
“I know that.”
“You don’t have to get mad at me.” Charlie frowned at y/n. He set their bag to the side and gently took the carry-on from their shoulders, placing it near the bag. Charlie pulled them closer, wrapping his body around them and leaning his head against the top of theirs. “I’ll see you again.”
“But when?” y/n did their best to not cry, but it seemed impossible in this moment. They were tired. They were cold. And they had to leave the person they cared for more than anything within the next ten minutes.
“I don’t know. Valentine’s Day? I can try and drive over in maybe April?”
“But that’s such a long drive. God why can’t this be fucking easier?” y/n groaned against Charlie’s shoulder, grasping onto his shirt tighter with their fists. “It took me so long to save for this and I don’t know— I don’t know anything.”
“Then move in with me.”
“What?” y/n looked at Charlie with a strange smile. It wasn’t the first time Charlie had suggested the idea, but they’d only been dating for a few months the last time it was mentioned. Now they were a year and 6 months deep and it was the first it had been mentioned in a while.
“Or I’ll move in with you. We wouldn’t have to be separated, and I could work virtually anywhere.”
“We don’t have— I don’t have room at my place for a streaming set up.”
“We can get an all new place. Just us. We can go look around when I’m down there.”
y/n thought for a moment. “Alright. You better hurry then.”
“Of course.”
The two stood in silence for a minute, still hugging. y/n glanced over at the clock that hung near the LED display. “I gotta go. I still gotta get through security.”
“No. Wait, don’t pull away… not yet.” Charlie pressed y/n even closer, leaving light kisses on the top of their head and the side of their face. “I love you. Please text me when you land. Like seriously.”
“I will I will. I love you too.”
“Okay.” Charlie let y/n go. He handed them all their stuff and stepped back, taking them in before not seeing them for the next few weeks. “How many other sweater did you steal?”
“Only two more, but I think I deserve them.”
“Alright.” Charlie laughed a bit. “Go get on your flight.”
“I love you.”
“I love you.”
Charlie watched silently as y/n made their way through security. It took them almost five minutes, but once on the other side, they sent a sad wave to Charlie and walked off to the gates. Charlie waited a moment, hesitating, then made the walk to his car alone. He crossed the airport street alone. He walked in the parking garage alone. And he got in his car and drove home. Alone.
———
12. Canon! Charlie slimecicle x reader [they/them used]
Las Nevadas was on fire. The water feature had died out hours ago. The casino was crumbling to stone. The tower had been cut in half. The strip club had been shattered. The restaurant had been torn apart. The roads were destroyed. The toll bridge had collapsed.
But they won, right?
Quackity stood alone. He watched his allies from a short distance. Foolish supported Purpled’s weight as he leaned against the god with a broken leg. Fundy rested against a wall, panting and covered in blood that didn’t belong to himself. Sam was no where to be seen, but they knew he was still alive.
But Slime? He was running. He was running in a large circle, searching through rubble and ash as he shouted.
“y/n?” Y/N?” He leaned on his hands and knees in the sand. His suit had been ruined for a long time now. The seams of his button up shirt had begun to rip in battle, the bottom of his pant legs had been singed and torn and blackened by the battle, and he wore only one suspender now, the other one much too weak and quite easily forgotten. He did not wear his tie, however he knew who was wearing it. “y/n?”
“Quackity,” Fundy looked upwards to his ally. “We can’t let him.”
Quackity ran a shaky, blood-stained hand down the front of his own suit in a nervous manner. “He has to find out somehow. Do you want to tell him?”
Fundy didn’t say anything, instead watching his friend run around. “Y/N!”
“This is cruel.” Foolish whispered to Purpled. The young boy could only nod in agreement, just a little too weak to do much else. Foolish, realizing this, helped the teen move over to sit next to Fundy, resting him against the crumbling wall of the fountain. Foolish turned around with the intent to aid Slime in his search, but was stopped by a simple hand placed upon his shoulder.
Quackity stood to the left of Foolish. He could see Quackity do his best to hold in the tears that had already left small tracks through the dust that had settled over Quackity’s face. “Just— let him. I can’t tell him. I can’t.”
The group watched Slime dig by hand. The rouble almost phased through his skin, but he kept digging. When he got too frustrated by one building, he ran to the next one, repeating the process. They watched on in pain for only a minute longer. Fundy looked to Foolish and Quackity. “Do we know where-?”
“Y/N.” Slime screamed in utter joy, pulling out y/n from the rubble. He proudly carried them back over to where Quackity and the rest of the group sat, gently setting them down on the ruined pavement. He kneeled with them, resting their head in his lap. Slime very gently carded his fingers through their hair, seeming to think to himself. He reached deep into the pocket of his pants, pulling out a neon pink healing potion.
Foolish shrugged off Quackity’s grasp and walked over to where Slime sat. He kneeled down next to the green guy, placing a hand on his shoulder to try and pull him away. “Slime, buddy—“
“Let me go.” Slime’s voice was gentle and somehow mature. He spoke sadly, but also as though he understood what was happening still. “I can still save them. I know I can.”
Foolish glanced back to the group to watch Quackity shake his head solemnly. “Buddy, I know it’s hard-“
“No, I promised.” Slime’s voice began to shake. He desperately poured the potion over the parts of y/n’s body where damage was obvious; bruises from the crushing rubble, burns from the fires and explosions, and the gaping cauterized sword wound to their abdomen. Slime smiled as he gazed at their peaceful face. It almost looked like they were sleeping. “I promised them.”
“Promised what buddy?”
“I told them everyone turns to dust and goes away, but I promised them I wouldn’t let it happen. I’ve seen it happen. I watched it. And I wouldn’t let them turn to dust.” Slime leaned down, pressing a light kiss to y/n’s forehead. He stayed close, whispering to the corpse in his lap. “Im so sorry.”
Foolish placed a hand on Slime’s shoulder again, trying to pull him away. “Buddy-“
“No!” He pushed Foolish away, leaning closer to y/n and holding them in a protective embrace. Slime gently laid a hand on y/n wrist, feeling the material of his neck tie in a knot around it. “I can still help them, please just let me— let me save them. Please.”
The group sat in silence. Slime’s shoulders shook as he sobbed over y/n’s body. Fundy and Quackity wiped away a few tears as well, listening to their friend wail into the night.
———
14. Charlie slimecicle x reader [they/them]
“Listen, man, hurry up. We were supposed to leave twenty minutes ago.” Schlatt leaned back into the plush leather seat, resting a hand over his eyes.
Charlie sighed, looking over the stuff he’d piled on the couch. He huffed, looking around. “Okay. I’ve got my phone, charger, wallet, jacket, I’m dressed, teeth brushed, what the fuck am I forgetting?”
“Uh, buddy.” Ted cleared his throat and tapped at the side of his face. Charlie paused for a moment, squinting before realizing what he missed.
“My glasses! My goddamn glasses. Alright gimme a minute.”
The two boys watched Charlie walk back down the hall of Ted’s apartment. Schlatt groaned and lazily stood up from his seat. He walked over to the small pile of Charlie’s stuff and began sorting through.
“What are you doing?”
“If I can find these faster, maybe we can actually get out of here.” Schlatt stuck his hands into the pockets of Charlie’s jacket. “Hate this fucking smog— oh.”
“Oh?” Ted sat up slightly, watching Schlatt pull a small black velvet box out. “Oh. Oh! Holy fuck.”
“Did he talk to you about this?” Schlatt dropped the volume of his voice, trying to not alert Charlie.
“No not at all. Is it for y/n?”
“I guess.” Ted and Schlatt had never met y/n in person before, only talking when they would be nearby if Charlie was in a discord call. But the two knew that Charlie loved them dearly, he talked about them whenever he got the chance. He boasted about anything y/n did, anywhere they went, any thing he could say.
“Do we— do we give him advice? Do we say anything?”
“Do you have advice to give someone who’s about to propose?”
Schlatt bit the inside of his lip. Instead of responding to Ted, he opened the box and his eyes went wide. “Holy shit dude.”
“What?” Ted got up and walked over to Schlatt’s side. The ring Charlie had gotten was beautiful; a silver band with ornate vines that held very small diamonds, all encasing a round amber gem. Ted very gently took the box from Schlatt, rotating it back and forth to see how the light glimmered on the gemstones.
“Ted this is… where’d he even get that?”
“I don’t know.” Ted stared into the ring. “We shouldn’t be hanging this. We should put it back.”
“Why do I want to wear it?”
“Why do you?”
Schlatt took the box from Ted, staring at it for a moment, then put it back in the coat pocket. He shuffled the jacket around, trying to make the setting look natural. “Now wha—“
“Okay I found it.” Charlie ran out of the room, rubbing at the glass with his shirt material. “What are we standing about?”
“Nothing.” Ted turned to Charlie quickly, awkwardly smiling. “Ready?”
The three boys made their way from Ted’s home to his car, then out onto the streets of Hollywood, headed towards Santa Monica. It was only a half-hour drive, and no one had too much to say.
“So. Charles.” Ted glanced at his friend in the backseat through the rear view mirror. “How are you and y/n doing?”
Schlatt made a pointed look at Ted as Charlie began talking. “We’re great! They got this really big job and we’re going to celebrate when I get back. There’s this restaurant downtown that’s so pretty— it’s their favorite! I mean, it was going to be a surprise, but hopefully it all goes well.”
Schlatt, thought for a moment, catching on to what Ted was thinking. “Is there something that needs to go well? It’s just dinner isn’t it?”
“Actually, can I tell you both about something?”
“Yes.” They both answered in unison, turning to look at Charlie as they stopped at the red light.
“Well, I wanted to, at dinner, I mean we weren’t doing dinner until I get back home, but I have this.” Both boys held their breath as Charlie went fishing in his jacket pockets. It took him a few minutes to procure the small black box, but eventually his found it and held it forwards, showing it off to his friends.
“Wow. Proposing?” Schlatt laid surprise thick into his voice, and thankfully Charlie didn’t notice.
“Yeah! I picked it out myself. Here look.” Charlie opened up the box, showing off the gems that sparkled in the sunlight. Schlatt glanced up at Ted who stared forwards at the 10 freeway.
“That’s really cool, thanks for telling us.”
Charlie frowned. “Is it not as good idea? You don’t sound that excited.”
“No it’s a great idea! I mean obviously we don’t know y/n as well.” Schlatt gestured to himself and Ted. “But it’s obvious you love them. I mean look at you, buying a ring and everything. Making dinner plans, Charlie this is amazing.”
“Also Schlatt found the ring earlier.”
Schlatt smacked Ted on the arm, sending him a glare. “So you guys knew?” Charlie smacked the box shut.
“Not on purpose. I was trying to find your glasses and I just happened across it. You didn’t hide it very well.”
“I—“
Ted laid on the horn, repeatedly honking at the Tesla that had cut him off. “Son of a mother fucker.”
“Starting to hate LA?”
Ted peered over at Schallt with a glare, then went back to driving. “We are happy for you Charlie, we were just kind of waiting for you to mention it to us.”
“Yeah, and we want to meet y/n! It’s been two years now?”
“Of course you can.” Charlie scratched at the back of his neck. “I’m just scared? I don’t know. I mean, I’ve never felt so strongly about anyone before. I’m terrified.”
“Hey, you’ll be okay. It’s y/n. You fly home tomorrow right?” Charlie nodded. “Let us know how it goes man. I’m invested now.”
Charlie laughed. “Alright. Tomorrow.”
Tomorrow, Charlie took the 7 hour flight home. In that same day, Ted and Schlatt each received a picture of y/n wearing the engagement ring around their finger, both them and Charlie smiling wide.
———
Congrats Nat on getting 1k!
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moonlit-imagines · 4 years ago
Text
Heirloom (Part 2)
Din Djarin x Fett!reader
warnings:
a/n: lmk if you’re interested in a part 3!
prompt:
part 1
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It’d been five years since you’d seen anything but sand, but you did pretty well out there, all things considered. Bounty hunting was in your blood, but this Mandalorian bounty hunter wasn’t interested in anything of the sort at the moment.
So you went from planet to planet, doing favors and tracking down people to assist Mando and the Child on your journey. You couldn’t complain much, he did save you from a lifetime of boredom and despair.
So you helped a frog woman, met more Mandalorians, clashed with a Jedi, and were finally led somewhere useful to conclude the Child’s journey.
“That’s the place, right?” You asked Din as the Razorcrest approached a planet said to have a Jedi “seeing stone.” Grogu sat on your lap, curiously peering up at you and grabbing your thumb.
“Yeah,” he answered with a hint of disappointment in his voice, you couldn’t ignore that, “this is where Ahsoka told us to go. And it might be where our journey with Grogu ends.” You frowned and looked down at the young creature, who was now hugging your arm.
“Don’t worry, little buddy. I could never forget about you.” You scratched the top of his head and kept him steady during the landing. It was a beautiful planet, you admired the scenery as soon as you stepped off the ship. “I could stay here forever, Mando. How about you?”
“Hand him over.” Din instructed with his arms out, waiting for you to give him his pride and joy. You honestly didn’t want to, the kid was growing on you.
“Fine. I should probably get my armor on anyways. Never know what we might run into.” Grogu reached out for Mando as you handed him off, but he decided to walk ahead of you as you got ready. “Hey, come on! At least let me get the breastplate on!” You called out, carefully running up behind him.
“You seem to have it under control.” He shrugged as the two of you began to climb the mountain.
“At least try to be courteous.” You groaned, straightening out your beaten Beskar armor. “Right, Grogu?” The child cooed at the sound of his name. “See? He agrees with me.”
“He just likes hearing his name, we’ve been over this.” Mando told you, watching your helmet envelop your head.
“Feels good to be in my element.” You told him, nearing the final destination. “Not that it ever was, it was just supposed to be.”
“Yeah, well, after Grogu finds his people, I’ll teach you what your father couldn’t. Deal?” Mando offered officially, leaving your beaming smile hidden by your helmet.
“Deal.” You reached your hand out to shake on it, and although it was brief, it did happen. Now you’d reached the stone, which didn’t seem like much. “I guess just,” Mando set Grogu onto the center platform, “yeah, that.”
After a few empty moments, the stone had activated like something you’d never seen before. It was Forcefield protecting the child from any sudden danger.
“Wasn’t expecting that, were you?” You asked Mando while crossing your arms.
“I don’t know what I was expecting.” He admitted, intently supervising his little one. That is, until a ship entered the atmosphere. One unfamiliar to him, but a distant memory to you.
“Holy banthas.” You muttered, removing your helmet in disbelief as Mando began to panic.
“Stay here and protect Grogu.” He instructed as you ran off to the ship’s landing site. “Y/N?! Hey, stop!” You couldn’t stop if you tried. There were two possibilities here. You thought it was too good to be true, but maybe you’d score a ship that was rightfully yours. To be discovered. “Fett, get back over here!”
“I have to get to that ship! This is personal!” You shouted back to him, picking up the pace. It wasn’t long before he discovered he couldn’t do anything at the stone, he might as well help you, the other kid he decided to take under his wing. Mando was really trying to keep up with you, but you were too eager to quit.
The glare of the sun blocked your view of who stepped off the platform, but you’d recognize that voice anywhere.
“If it isn’t my only child, I knew we’d meet again someday.” Boba greeted, causing you to drop your guard and run straight for him.
“I thought you were dead,” you told him as he engulfed you in a hug, but things took a slight turn when you smacked him in the chest, leaving him puzzled, “where the hell did you go?! I was stranded on Tatooine for five kriffing years!”
“Don’t use that tone with me, kiddo.” Your father warned you while Mando awkwardly stood to the side to watch your family drama play out. “I got into some trouble on that sand planet, I couldn’t rope you into it.”
“So you thought that it’d be better for me to become an orphan at ten?” You argued, in a heated rage over the sudden realization that you didn’t have to be scrounging for food and shelter for years on your own.
“I managed just fine when the Jedi killed my father.” Boba and you stood off face-to-face, practically growling at each other.
“Circumstances were different, bounty hunters had your back.” What kind of father would leave his kid to fend for themself when he’d gone through the same thing before?
“What do you call that guy over there?” Your father pointed to Din.
“Just met him a few days back, that doesn’t change the fact that I was alone.” You were about to go on, but a less familiar face came from Slave I to warn you of something, you cut her off just before she could start. “And who the hell is that?”
“Fennec Shand, I owe your dad my life.” She introduced herself with nothing but that, “and I’d cool it for a minute. We’ve got Imps incoming.” The woman pointed skyward at Imperial ships.
“The kid!” Mando gasped, taking off before you tried to do the same.
“Fennec, help the Mandalorian.” Boba instructed, gripping onto his formerly owned armor. “I believe this belongs to me.”
“You’re joking, right?” He sternly stared you down, to which you loudly groaned and tossed him the helmet before removing the various other pieces. “Guess you just don’t care if I get shot, huh?”
“You’re a Fett, you’ll manage.” He assured while finally being able to put his armor back on after all these years. You dismissed yourself promptly to back up Mando against the swarming stormtroopers that you couldn’t wait to knock down. You were never too fond of the Empire.
“Where’s your armor, y/n?” Mando asked, throwing himself in front of you before the blasterfire hit. He saved your life is what he did.
“My old man just robbed me, let’s hope that what you taught me stuck or else I’m not making it off this planet!” You explained, ducking under his arm to take down a few troopers.
“I won’t let that happen, y/n. Not on my watch.” Mando and you continued to fight side by side, providing each other with all the assistance you needed as it rained blasterfire.
“Think the Child is okay?” You questioned while activating a grenade and chucking it towards a horde of hostiles.
“As long as he’s in that Forcefield, he should be safe!” Mando told you as he thinned out the crowd. It wasn’t long before Boba launched a rocket at the airborne cruisers, taking down two birds with one stone. “Nice shot.”
“I was aiming for the other one.” Your father admitted, a triumphant moment swiftly crushed as the Razorcrest was blown to pieces. You yelped at the sight, covering your mouth as you looked to Din.
“Grogu!” You exclaimed while backtracking to the Child, Boba took to his ship while the rest of you went to retrieve him. Just a few seconds too late, dark troopers had kidnapped him and stripped Din of everything he had within the minute. Now, your father tried his best to help, but what could he do when he wasn’t allowed to shoot?
Boba returned to the ground and watched as Mando sorted through the wreckage of his ship.
“I was ashamed.” He said while the two of you were aside.
“Huh?” You gave your father an odd look as you cocked your brow.
“You watched me suffer defeat in such a humiliating way. A malfunctioning jetpack was not the way I imagined I’d go.” Boba admitted, removing his helmet to give you a heartfelt look. “But I knew you could handle yourself out there because you’re a Fett. That doesn’t make it right, but I hope that I can.”
“Oh...I guess we’ll see.” You looked over to Mando, who just found the Beskar spear in the rubble. “At least you can try and one-up your last death, right?” You and your dad chuckled as Mando approached.
It was here that your father explained that he owed the Mandalorian a debt for caring for you, one he’d repay by getting the Child back.
Now, all was not forgiven. Deep down, you would always feel abandoned and betrayed by your father, but maybe the future held something better for you. Just take it one step at a time.
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