#i have such vivid memories of sitting on the edge of my bed crying and asking my mom | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

matchamorphosis · 3 years

Note

MS ROSIE THAT HEADCANNON OMFG MAY I PRETTY PLEASE REQUEST DADDY ARI- maybe like hes busy with work but youre really needy so he lets you ride his thigh i lub mean daddy ari🥺<33333

𝐶𝐴𝑁𝐷𝑌 𝐶𝑂𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐷 𝐶𝐻𝐸𝑅𝑈𝐵

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 || Ari hasn’t been paying you much attention and so you take matters in your own hands as well as your short cherry skirt.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 || smut smut smut

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 || alt. AU — daddy!ari levinson × [black//woc]fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 || 18+ nsfw, thigh riding, masochism, kinda dark!ari, spanking, hair pulling, lots of edging, tons of crying, Ari is a big meanie :(( MINORS DNI — 18+ INTERACTION ONLY

𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬 || candy by doja cat

𝐰. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 || yes jasmeen of course you can!! 🥺💗 i’m gonna make daddy!ari extra mean and dirty for you and i’m gonna add a little bit of bratty reader cause in this house we love mean daddies and spoiled brats! 💗💗💗

Ari’s eyes follow the screen to the stacks of paperwork in front of him. all this was due by the end of the week and he still didn’t file the information from the online form to the files laying on his desk.

there were times where Ari broke some work related limits of hours upon hours of desk work fueled by caffeine and your kisses of encouragement but then again he did have his limits.

these were those times but no matter how much he promised himself he’d take a break, meaning to check up on you and see what you’ve been up to. although time seemed to pass and Ari hadn’t realize that that side note was forgotten three hours ago on the account of his mind relentlessly kept on reeling him back into his paperwork.

the large coffee mug you made him at a pottery class sits besides a stack of files is pushing its fifth refill of the day as Ari pours the remaining bitter black liquid from the coffeepot. the dark black liquid flowing into the yellow painted, honeypot shaped mug.

it makes him smile at the memory of when you gifted it to him, wrapped in sparkly wrapping paper he presses kisses all over your face in gratitude. he always complained on needing a mug since he always dropped them and he was certain to never drop of break this special mug his princess made him.

its sudden with the loose grip he has on the coffee mug that the coffee spills over the brink of the mug and onto a few papers. the action causes Ari to blurt out an aggregated scold before fanning out the papers soaked in coffee to the side near a fan.

sitting back down on his chair his eyes look over the work he has completed. stapling and putting away documents that have been signed and filed out as well as closing off tabs that weren’t important anymore-

he still has more work cut out for him

his rushing thoughts and swift hands bearing a pen and the other a computer mouse, his head shoots up as a rhythm like knock echoes at the home office door. “come in,”

the low rumble of his voice speaks out as his eyes and attention to back on the papers in his grasps. sipping on his black coffee, slightly sweetened in his desired cream and sugar packets, his focus and eyes stick to his paperwork.

the door opens to reveal you, slightly irritated and desperate for attention from your daddy. you were certain with your presence and the way your heels clack against the flooring he would lift his head up. adjust the small glasses on the brink of his nose and acknowledge you, tell you that you look cute today or stop writing all together but it doesn’t spark interest to him at all.

thin spectacles on the brink of his nose, loose curtains of hair rest on the sides of his face. as you take steps closer you can see the worn out exhaustion in his blue hues and the deep darkness of his under eye bags. daddy hasn’t slept great in days, always joining you in bed in the early morning hours and waking before you can. so now knowing that your mission for attention might not be the best idea, you know when your daddy gets like this.

it’s best to leave him work but it wasn’t healthy for him to overwork. it’s stress none stop about getting work done cause it wasn’t good for daddy! and despite you feeling a burn in your belly that you wanted to deny and push aside for him...

even you had your limits of being deprived from his embraces, praises and touches.

a solid three days it’s been that Ari has been glued behind his desk. it irked you how demanding his job was but you had to be his supportive princess, he needed all the support and encouragement. even if it meant to ignore the wetness in between your thighs that needed to be catered and handled by your daddy then so be it...

maybe you can get a bit of attention, a morsel of affirmation from him and you’ll be set to go. maybe you shouldn’t have worn the outfit you have on if you now just want a praise of two but you don’t hesitate to get comfortable. settling in one of the form fitting arm chairs at the far corner of your daddy’s office near the towering bookshelves and his hanged degrees.

admiring how smart and brave your daddy is with his degrees, certificates and honors as you play with the little charm bracelet he gave you. throwing one smooth leg over the other your mini skirt rakes up to reveal your upper thighs but still covering up what little you’re trying to hide. you liked dressing up pretty for daddy and he did to, today was no exception cause you were planning on cheering him up.

when he would finally realize you were here- you roll your eyes as he takes another sip of coffee. taking all your necessities that you stuffed in your Strawberry Shortcake book bag, you laid the elements of entertainment on the coffee table in front of you near the plush armchairs.

one of your lisa frank coloring books being thrown across the expansive wooden tabletop, you take out your bright vivid gel pens and pastel markers from your coloring pouch. and by taking out you unzip the pink pouch and turn it upside down for it all to fall on the table.

the clashing plastic crash of your coloring tools against the polished tabletop alert Ari- his head shooting up as his eyes meet your distanced body uncapping a scented marker and opening a page of the coloring book.

“princess? I didn’t see you, what are you doing here?” his voice breaks as he drops the pen in his hands briefly, softly smiling as he sees your face driven in concentration. his smile deepens when your nose doing the cute little scrunch thing when you’re unsure about something but plan on figuring out.

hair styled in one of your complicated yet sophisticated hairdos, his large sweater he allowed you to wear since the morning still adorns your bodice comfortably. knees bended, he sees them bare but an outline to a crimson red skirt falls on your hips.

it’s a shame Ari couldn’t get up and scoop you up in his arms, play and color with you for a bit without the ball and chain of his work holding him hostage at his desk.

“so now you notice i’m here,” your voice lightly snaps but it’s mellowed as your lips pull into a pout, pulling the strings of his heart. a sense of guilt rises in his chest because he knows he hasn’t been caring for you properly these past few days. without the little moments of meals and getting ready for bed he hasn’t been spending time with you that much.

“don’t be like that princess. daddy just has alot of work to finish-” but you still shake your head, confusing Ari as you cross your arms over your chest.

“but I don’t want daddy to work! daddy works forever! I want special time!” you whine, your eyes tearing up as you slam your hands against the table. making the coloring books, pens and markers quake at your mercy.

at this moment Ari’s at your mercy, and if he permits you to continue this stirring frenzy who knows how much he’s going to spend away from his work to calm you from a potential tantrum. so the words that come out of Ari’s mouth make you hault your next actions of crying and screaming-

the simple notion of, “come here princess, bring your coloring book with you. we can work together,” makes your tears stop falling and your body rising to leap towards him. grabbing your things quickly and making your way to your daddy. it’s now that he sees you in your outfit that has his eyes sticking anywhere else but yours.

a smirk curling your glossy, cherry painted lips you turn around for him so he could see your little ‘outfit’ the flow of your skirt tempting to rise up at the bottom curve of your ass but you’re hoping to save the surprise do what’s underneath it later, “do you like my skirt daddy?” you say, your eyes tracing his and he only but stares at anything else but your eyes.

the rich gleam of your thighs and long legs, the way your chest peaks out through the fabric to his sweater, your tempting glossy lips and those damn heels...

his response is his hands patting down on his thigh, enough to practically make your heart jump at the sight. it’s been that long since you’ve sat on his lap but then again you constantly need to be on it.

a moonlight smile pulls at the corner of his lips when you drop your coloring books and markers on his desk. making sure to not mess up his paperwork with yours, Ari moves his papers to make way for your things.

sighing happily when you settle your bum in between both of his thighs to get comfy. sweet scent of strawberries and cream from your shampoo wafting to his nose and the stark fruitiness of your scented markers mixing with the coffee steam from his mug marry together.

the two of you do your separate jobs peacefully, with the exception of you reaching for his honeypot mug to have a lick of coffee that he tsks at you. moving the mug away from your grabby small hands.

“that’s a big people drink sweet pea. i’ll give you a juice box if you’re thirsty,” but you just shake your head and get right back to shading with your colors.

“daddy may I please play my hello kitty game?” your perky voice starts as you start coloring the detailed tiger cub. emphasizing on the may and please, your daddy was a sucker for good manners and etiquette.

shifting against only his right thigh now, your back hunches to reach the desk with difficulty until he shift to get you comfortable. continuing coloring but your eyes leave once in a while to stare at the keyboard Ari’s fingers clack with each key, “not now princess.” Ari hums and you frown sourly.

the online hello kitty theme park game would be an excellent way to have you distracted as he works but at the same time Ari doesn’t think it’ll be healthy for you to invest that much screen time. and besides he’s working on it, leaning your head on his bicep you let go of that unwanted answer and get back to color tinting and detailing.

Ari files in the margins of the paperwork and writes everything out as you do with your coloring sheets. as the minutes turn into hours, his mug once again being filled with coffee and your sippy cup filled with your juice. you finish coloring page after coloring page and Ari stack after stack of paperwork.

leaving you halfway done with your one hundred and seventy-five page Lisa Frank coloring book and your daddy only one stack of field files. the amount he managed to finish has him impressed of himself and grateful to his special good luck charm sitting perfectly right on his thigh.

“daddy look at all the pages I finished!” you cheer as you pull out the coloring book for him to look over, practically bouncing on his thigh from excitement. the dazzling brightness of your wide toothy smile bringing a large smile to Ari’s face as he takes the coloring book to look over at your hard work.

flipping each page, the drawings and outlined sheets were more colorful and detailed than the last and Ari was indeed speechless and at awe. proud of his creative princess and her clever unique technique with scented markers and glitter gel pens.

“princess these are gorgeous! I have a little artist on my hands don’t I?” Ari grins and his words make the wide smile you have crinkle as your eyes dash away from his flustered.

your bashful state makes Ari chuckle but his eyes don’t pull away to continue analyzing and admiring your work. you indeed did an excellent job at coloring and Ari thought you’d struggle a bit with the detailed sheets of Lisa Frank. the refrigerator tonight will be decorated in these latest masterpieces, he’ll make sure of it.

and you know what? you deserve a reward.

Ari thought and he bends to the side to open the second compartment of his desk just above his organized files. pulling the drawer open, his hands roam over the pens, staples and office supplies in search for the treats.

stopping his short search when his fingers grab the bag of heart shaped lollipops he at times rewarded you when you listened to him extra carefully. he grabs one and brings it up to your eyesight, enjoying how your eyes light up and follow the lollipop with each motion.

starlight eyes widen and focus on the cherry lollipop in your daddy’s grasp then stare up at him again, “is that for me daddy?” you words drip in eagerness, wanting to taste the sugary sweet artificial fruit against your tongue.

Ari’s eyes playfully squint against your mischievous ones, his fingers undo the wrapper and disregard it aside on the desk. wonderstroke eyes looking over the bare heart shaped lollipop, you can smell the tangy cherry and your mouth waters.

although you don’t expect daddy to take the lollipop in his mouth. a pout pulling your lips as you rock against his thigh for a taste and you stop once your daddy takes it out with a smart delightful pop!

“open up for daddy princess,” and you don’t need to be told twice as you open your mouth so Ari could place the heart lolli in your mouth. “tongue out sweet girl,” and you stick your tongue flat out, making Ari smile at your good listening skills.

your glossy lips closing around the sweet candy on a stick, you hum at the sweet taste, “thank you daddy,” Ari simply kisses your forehead before patting your head, getting straight into work.

despite the candy he gave you, you’re still upset he still is ignoring you. by all means you could color as many pages in your coloring book for eternity but they never gave you the same satisfaction then the attention daddy gave you.

being deprived of it, you’ve also been deprived of his cock.

locked away in the depths of your shared bedroom you couldn’t just replace his thick fingers with yours. your pink silicon toys with his cock because they didn’t reach the golden spot he easily could reach. and you couldn’t rub your panty clothed pussy against one of your pillows and pretend it was Ari’s body.

no matter how much you wanted to touch yourself at times- hell you wanted to touch yourself when you were in your playroom this early afternoon. Ari obviously wouldn’t notice since his head was deep in paperwork but you knew you couldn’t break one of his golden rules.

right now daddy was right here, you were sitting on his very lap and compared to him you were a little thing in desperately critical need to be taken care of. your slicked cunt wasn’t going to stop over-examining your daddy’s big arms that caged you in. his large hands that held the pen that looked so small in it as he wrote. his wide muscular chest that you rest your back against.

not to mention the soft and tender caresses of his one hand rubbing your thigh through your fringed scarlet red skirt. soft lips pressing gentle kisses on your hairline here and there along with the scratch of his thick beard. the soft spoken praises he whispered in your ear as you colored quietly for him.

daddy himself made you needy, very needy. because as much as you could sit still and color quietly and be his good girl you desperately wanted to grind your cunt against his thigh.

but then again who were you to ask for permission?

the sudden shift your body has against his thigh doesn’t ring any bells or blast any alarms since he just thinks you’re simply shifting to find a comfortable position.

wandering fingers trace the veins bursting from your daddy’s flexed hands and forearms that grip his pen as he writes. as well as the other that’s hooked around your belly to keep you still, finding the perfect rhythm to roll your hips against ari’s thigh.

holding in a whimper you suck on the lollipop hard, picturing the heart shaped lolli has the tip of his cock but then again it just makes you drip pathetically against your daddy’s thigh even thinking of that. the burning pleasure vibrating at your core as your hips continue to rock onto the denim of your daddy’s jeans. the slick of your pussy soaking your panties and the honey seeps through the crotch of the thin lace thing.

as much as you’re doing a good job at keeping your little sounds to yourself and throwing Ari off at your dirty work as you carry on coloring he isn’t oblivious to the wetness that is drenching his thigh nor your ongoing grind you have on it.

no matter how considerable you told him earlier that you were coloring the page you’re working on for him and how adorable you looked grinding your desperate cunt on his thigh.

you didn’t ask for permission

Ari’s sure if he could lift your body away from his thigh they’re would be a wet patch stained on his jeans. he can hear the sloppiness of your wet folds and slick with each rock your hips have. the smell of your arousal filling his nose, the cherry in your breath as you let out a little whimper. feeling the loose string of your orgasm building in the pit of your belly beginning to tighten as you roll and rock your hips to the lace that makes you melt.

“stop it,” Ari’s low rumble commanded, his hands still writing something but his eyes dash from his work to you. eyes closed and face clouded in lust as you persist your grinding. head and conscious tucked away in your dirty little dream world. Ari doesn’t let the fact that you’re sucking on the lollipop like it’s his cock or the little moans that sound like high pitched hums.

he gave you you’re a reward and he can easily take it away

oblivious of your daddy’s true intention you moan when his hand lands on your head, stroking through your hair until he takes a handful of it and pulls your head back. a gasp escaping your lips, your eyes open and the grind you have on his thigh comes to a crashing stop at the painful tug.

“daddy let go!” you loudly whine. your eyes watering at your ruined orgasm and your hair potentially getting ruined by your daddy’s harsh hold.

another cry escapes your lips when ari pulls your head back even more, causing your back to arch as his breath wafts against your earlobe. “daddy told you to stop, princess. is my little princess a dumb baby or is my little princess too busy fucking herself on daddy’s thigh to listen?”

the coarseness of his remark makes you shiver, a whimper and cry leaving your lips as your eyes water as the hold he has on your hair tightens.

“get your filthy cunt off of my thigh and keep coloring that picture for me. can you do that for me or you going to wander and get lost in that whorish brain of yours?”

rapidly nodding your head up and down and lift your hips over his thigh, your need to please and answer his question quickly makes him chuckle into your hair. although you’re still whimpering and pouting over your ruined hair, you spent all morning making it cute and perfect all for it to be ruined with a single tug from his large hands.

hot bothered breath and searing lips grazing against the shell of your ear causes your wetness to seep and drip onto your rubbing thighs. catching you in the act, Ari’s free hand pulls the skirt above your hips, expecting you to wear some kind of tiny lace panties but you aren’t wearing anything.

blue eyes don’t meet any scandalous undergarment, just your plump ass and your dripping cunt desperate for his touch. desperate for a release and his attention, his hands examine the flimsy material for a skirt that deliciously hugs and covers your hips.

feeling your daddy’s stare on your princess parts, it makes your heart jump and thump when his hands grab at your ass. kneading the flesh of it before gripping the waistline of the cherry red skirt.

“daddy-?” another gasp escapes your lips when a loud tare ripples throughout the room and the weight of cold air hitting your slicked, exposed pussy.

Ari grunts as he takes the fabric of your now ripped skirt and throws it onto the floor without a care, all he wants to see is your pussy. a large hand comes down to slap your ass, enjoying the way it bounces back like it’s a response. it has all the blood and lust flowing down south to his hardening cock.

“do daddy a favor princess and shut the fuck up before daddy makes you,” the threat makes you whimper, the lollipop in your mouth swirling sweetly against your tongue as your daddy pinches and gripes handfuls of your ass. slapping the flesh and watching it bounce, he wants to dig his teeth in your peach flesh.

“take my sweater off. I want nothing on what’s mine. do you understand?” Ari groans in your ear as his hands glide around your hips to dip into your cunt, his fingers stroking your folds and not believeing how wet you are. “oh and princess, the heels stay on,”

whimpering and following his order quickly, grabbing his sweater from the helm and lift the heavy wool material of the sweater above your head. body fully bare and under the heat of his burning glance, you drop the thick article of clothing in your hands on the floor. leaving the heels on as he commanded, feeling the lust filled burn of his stare intensify as you rest your hands together on his knee waiting.

waiting impatiently for the matter for his next command. the smell of the baby oil and sweet strawberry lotion he rubbed on your curves earlier that day hits his nose and he moans. you look, smell and- as he takes his fingers in his mouth and moans- taste like candy.

hearing the sudden sound of a heavy metal buckle of his belt loosen, Ari’s hard cock rises up and hits the hard muscle of his belly. an untamed groan escapes oats his lips when you turn your head over your shoulder to see him rubbing the tip of his cock with his thumb.

those starlight eyes that usually gleam in their faux innocence stare back at the fire in his eyes and you pout. wanting to touch daddy’s cock and taste him on your tongue. but your eyes tear up when he takes his thumb and suck the white cum into his mouth, not leaving enough for you to taste.

it makes you whip your head away from his handsome smug face. Ari doesn’t ignore the sniff out of you as he sets sight of your bare body in front of him. resting your elbows and body weight on the desk your arched back leaves loads of space for him to glide his hands through. running delicious shivers throughout your spine before he slaps your ass again. stinging and burning but your cunt creams in pleasure as you bite your bottom lip.

“my slutty princess wasn’t wearing a bra under daddies sweater? no panties under those scraps for a skirt? fucking knew you looked too good. wanted daddy to find out and ruin your tiny pussy, didn’t you? wanted to distract me from work? nasty little girl thinking she can get what she wants.”

not daring to let out another moan, his hand still gripping your hair loosens as his free hand rises up your waist to pinch a nipple. “answer me slut. you get nothing if you don’t,” his hiss rings and normally you would laugh at him in this state. telling off his stupid hunchmen on the phone as you got all hot and bothered as he yelled at them, making them beg for his forgiveness.

now you’re on the end of that anger; and you don’t mind it one but as his large calloused hands grab the fragments of your ripped skirt on the floor before analyzing your bare body arched pretty and posed for him. in nothing but your big girl heels with your cute lacy white socks, his cock is painfully hard now as the tip paints his abdomen in precum.

“yes daddy. I wanted you to fuck me. I wanted you to stop working because you haven’t touched me and I want cummies! I deserve cummies!” you cry but the words are too sloshed and unreadable from the lollipop in your mouth.

it’s quick that Ari takes the stick and pulls it away from your mouth with a swift and perky pop! a loud whine excludes your lips from his sole action but it’s replaced with a gasp as Ari slaps your mouth, “shut your big brat hole up before I stuff it shut myself,” and you moaned at him, fucking moaned at the threat.

it leaves him just as speechless as you, you’re face wafting in the heat of your embarrassment and you cower when his smirk curls deviously done on you. Ari wants you to cry- God he wants to rip your heart out and bandage it up with his cock

“dumb babies like you get what daddy gives you. nothing else, now grind on daddy’s thigh princess,” his rough command makes you freeze, not even daring to breathe for a second.

wondering if he’s being serious, and it’s as if he could read the confusion buzzing in your head he decides to clear it up. the harsh and stinging spank awakes you from your overthinking session and you get to work. working to gain the same pleasurable friction you were enjoying moments ago.

your hands gripe the edge of his desk till your knuckles bulge out around your soft skin. rocking your hips against the roughness of his jeans, this time no panties are in the way as your slickness flows freely. lubricating your folds and soaking his thigh with your juices, it makes him chuckle when he feels your wetness soak through the fabric onto his thigh. you’re so pretty and obedient he could fuck your till you couldn’t think or stand.

“do you think you can finish your coloring page before you cum princess? show me how good you are at coloring.”

Ari’s artificially sweet remark makes you whimper, just as artificial as the cherry heart lollipop you were licking. not hesitating or wasting a minute, you quickly grab your coloring book and markers and get straight to work.

thankful you didn’t have to color much, one good thing leading you to this moment you could feel your orgasm nearing. the high peak that you’re getting closer and closer to, you want to jump off the cliff and dive into the waves of your pleasure. who knows what daddy would do if you didn’t finish your drawing on time, you needed to fucking cum.

you always got what you fucking wanted regardless what daddy thought, but maybe you spoke to soon-

“please princess, daddy knows you can grind harder on that. show me how much of a slut you are for daddy’s thigh,” you whimper at his command and obey immediately.

grinding harder against him, his teeth biting the soft bit of ear as his fingers roll your hard nipples. slightly wincing and deeply moaning, you can’t help but allow him to make you slip in that space of mindless obedience.

daddy always made you a moaning wet mess, always desperate for his approval and sweet honeyed praises. glassy eyes concentrating on your coloring sheet, it was becoming difficult to focus on coloring as you rocked your hips. trying desperately to withhold your orgasm but desperately trying to please daddy and grinding harder. hot tears springing in your eyes at the havoc situation, you let out a sob as your rock against Ari’s thigh.

Ari only but cooed at you, thumbing away your hot salty tears. “what a little crybaby,” he chuckles through a fake sympathetic smile. fisting his hard slippery cock in one hand as the other crept down to rub your little button. if anything Ari wants more now is for you to cry- it’s getting his cock harder and harder as the tears drip onto the coloring sheet.

“daddy I-I can’t color that fast!” that cry as his thick fingers advancing in their speed and pressure. stroking the puffiness of your folds before brushing against your drenched hole.

taking not a single ounce of regard to your wail, he responds only by pinching your pussy lips. causing you to cry out in sudden pain before he strokes your pussy to calm you. thick digits gathering up your arousal, your folds creating a lewd serenade in the golden tint of his office.

“you can’t color that fast? my stupid little princess doesn’t know how to color quick enough? to color a small stupid drawing before she can cum? huh, princess? answer me!”

there doesn’t need to be any tugging at your hair or harsh slap to your ass for you to quiver against him. Ari- your daddy has a magical way of making you submit with just the ease of his words but you don’t know how to answer him at all but to keep coloring. marshmallow tears streaming down your face like shooting stars, you continue to reach your high your daddy assists you on reaching but denies.

however Ari is noticing that you’re practically almost done coloring the picture, by the time you’re finished you’d probably cum and fufill his order. oh he couldn’t let that happen. his spoiled brat wasn’t gonna cum until he felt she deserved so, which wasn’t gonna be anytime soon if he could do anything about it.

quick hands slap down on your ass, causing the marker in your hand to scribble slightly over the lines. a gasp escaping your lips your bottom lip trembling at the sight and rushing figuring out how to fix it. scarlet heels clacking together, his hands stop tracing the lace of your socks at your ankles.

ravishing in your panicked state, he smirks into your hair. grabbing the lollipop he snatched from you earlier from the desk, taking it into his mouth with a satisfying pop! ignoring your offended and hurt whimpers as your daddy steals your reward away from you due to your clumsiness. it makes your vision blurry and your bottom lip tremble violently, head echoing in only one thought and one thought only-

daddy is so mean, daddy’s a big fat meanie.

your thoughts roar but you didn’t mean to say any of them aloud, you’re so caught up in the moment that you have no idea you did so because now your ass is getting spanked again and again and again and again. all until your peach flesh burns and Ari can see the indents of his fingers on that heart shaped ass he loves so much before bringing his hand back in your hair.

tugging it so your spine suddenly arches back so his lips brush your ear, a gasp escaping your mouth. “I can be meaner princess. you stop coloring and I won’t let you cum. do you understand that? stupid whore.”

the growl rolls off his lips and it just adds onto the sheet of sweats glistening off your skin. tears drop from your lashes as shaky, trembling hands grip the markers as you persist on finishing the coloring page. feeling your body is on fire, your sobbing cunt continues to rock against his loins and the pleasure is almost unbearable you whimper.

the smirk plastered on Ari’s face is sinful, his hands unbutton his shirt to leave his chest bare. golden pendant glistening in the light bulbs of his office. back muscles resting against the leather of his office chair, he strokes his throbbing cock. biting his bottom lip enjoying the naked sight of his desperate slut for a precious princess bouncing and rocking on his thigh.

arms bended calmly behind his head, biceps slightly flexing as he licks on the lollipop he took from you. humming from its sweet taste while imagining it’s the nipples of your tits, his tongue flicking over the heart shape- sucking sharply on it. savoring the sweet cherry taste as his hands graze up to gripe your bouncing tits. savoring in your heavy moans, stiff sniffles and stuttering sobs all on the account of him.

like taking candy from a baby, his baby.

Ari thinks as he watched your ass bounce, sweat glistening off your skin as your heeled feet shake. moving back in your high unaware matter, your ass unintentionally brushes roughly against his balls. causing you to gasp and your daddy to grunt, ordering you to do it again which you do.

suddenly the thought of fucking your other tight hole full of his white ropes of cum takes over his mind but he was enjoying you trying to find a release. “maybe if you color the picture really nice for daddy then daddy will let you cum,”

Ari spoke, his voice soft and tender like always despite the current moments of viscously degrading and name calling you. you’ve always craved this part of him but who knew it would hurt your heart so fucking good with each insult and slap to your heart shaped ass.

although the remark creates a hopeful glisten in your relieved eyes, posture relaxing a bit. you were certain you wouldn’t be able finish it on time but maybe if you focus on making it look pretty- regardless of a few white spaces- daddy would let you have your cummies. Ari would kiss you on your pretty lips and make you undone with the sweetest command.

oh how you craved it this moment it’s bringing more tears to your eyes.

“r-really daddy?” you stutter, imagining the tenseness of his thigh as his cock. squeezing it just right around your walls as your eyes glue on the coloring sheet. grinding your pussy harder onto his jean covered thigh that let’s all your high pitched and stuttering moans flow like honey, “you really mean it?”

a dark glint shines in Ari’s blue hues, taking the lollipop out of his mouth his hand rubs his shaft painfully slow. that thumb that has been teasing your button glides past his weeping tip, his burning blue glance shifting to you. until his hand reaches up, causing you to moan when he grabs a handful of your hair.

oh how he was going to tear his poor princess down after building her a sense of hope.

“no,”

#brattycherubwrites #♡ ari levinson ♡#ari levinson × woc!reader #ari levinson × black!reader #ari levinson × reader #ari levinson smut #daddy!ari levinson × woc!reader #daddy!ari levinson × black!reader #daddy!ari levinson × reader #daddy!ari levinson smut #chris evans × woc!reader #chris evans × black!reader #chris evans × reader #chris evans smut #daddy!chris evans × woc!reader #daddy!chris evans × black!reader #daddy!chris evans × reader #daddy!chris evans smut #daddy!ari levinson × little!reader

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127-mile · 4 years

Text

Pairing : demon!Jaehyun x fem!reader.

Genre : demon!au / yandere-ish!au / fluff, angst, mature content.

Warnings : This is not what a normal loving relationship is like, this is a work of fiction. fingering (fem. receiving) unprotected sex (kids, please be smart) coming inside. non sexual choking. mention of deaths. explicit (kind of, it’s pretty soft) and non explicit deaths. blood. alcohol consumption. mention of drugs. manipulation. toxic relationship.

Word count : +10.1k.

Plot : Instead of having a guardian angel, you have a guardian demon. His methods are often more violent, but they are more straight forward. What does he have that the regular guardians don’t ? An obsession. You.

You didn’t think being assigned to a demon was a simple mistake, do you ?

A/N : This is part of the Halloween collab made by the incredible @neo-cult-ure. We had to choose a song, mine is Kill for you by Zolita.

Taglist : @plump-peach / @crtznstuff / @kriselynne / @yourmagnanimousholiness / @soothingjae / @peachjaem00 / @chanslaptopp / @luvlyjaemin / @jeongyoonohs / @junghoe / @nakayutasama / @ddaawwnn7

"Say my name." the voice in your ear is hoarse, and it echoes in your head. You feel the man's hands along your arms, and his fingers leave a scorching trail in their paths. "Say my name." he repeats one more time, and you make the mistake of opening your eyes. What you see is not human, the eyes are red, deep and empty of any kind of humanity, you see yourself in the void. "Say my name, and I will show you wonders that humans can only dream of." His voice is urgent, and though you are thinking, you can not remember his name.

The weight of the man's body against yours is both agonizing and reassuring, you must be losing your mind, and he is the reason. His voice, his perfume -a mixture of burnt wood, and something irresistible that you are unable to describe- and the power of his gaze from which you can't take your eyes off. "Come on, my sweet love, say my name." a shiver runs down yuor body, and you arch your back off the bed when you feel the man's tongue running down your throat, and god, you cant to feel more. He is more addicting than any drug you have ever tried.

The window is open, you can feel the cool breeze on your bare body and yet, it feels like you are burning from the inside. Drops of sweat pearl at your hairline. You open your mouth, but no words come out, only an embarrassing moan as the man's teeth pierce through the skin of your neck, but you don't have time to think about the pain because his tongue soothes the wound right away.

Once again, you find yourself unable to move, or to think and the man sits up but you refuse to meet his gaze once more, too afraid to lose yourself in his eyes. To lose yourself completely. "Until I met you, I was convinced that angels were the only creatures capable of such beauty, but you proved me wrong. They should be ashamed to show themselves when you exist, my love."

His voice is suddenly painful, and you feel your heart twist. Maybe it was a trick, because you open your eyes without hesitation, wanting nothing more than to make him feel better. But all you see is a smile. A bloody smile. "If you don't say my name, I'm going to have to force you to say it. It would be a shame to see your pretty tongue being ripped out, don't you think ?" his voice is cold now, as cold as the fingers he wraps around your throat. "Say it !"

Fear, you feel nothing but fear. But what are you afraid of ? To have offended him, or to die ? You do not know. Your breathing is getting slower, and your field of vision is darkening until you can see nothing but darkness, and feel nothing but the cold. Everything is cold, so so cold.

You open your eyes, a sudden coughing fit waking you up fully. Your eyes are full of tears running down your sleep-swollen cheeks and your lips taste metallic, you must have bitten them during the night. You put your hands around your neck where you thought you would still feel the pressure of the stranger's fingers, but nothing.

Your lungs are burning, and you sit up to catch your breath. It's long, and rather difficult but you get there. The room is only illuminated by the rays of sunshine passing through the curtains, and all you see are the small particles of dust flying around the room. Then, your gaze falls on something. Or someone, and a cry broken by your aching throat escape your lips.

As fast as it arrived, the shadow vanishes and you shake your head. You have barely woken up from a terrible dream, your mind is only playing tricks on you, nothing more.

"What the fuck..." you mumble, running your fingers through your hair. You feel the drops of sweat running down your spine, and you don't waste a minute getting out of bed. A cold shower will do you the most good, you think, heading to the only bathroom. Under the jet of water, you think about your dream. The man's touch seemed so real that if you focus you can still feel the burn from his fingers.

It's not the first time you had a dream with this man, it's not the first time he's asked you to say his name, but it's the first time he's become threatening, and scary. You sigh, and come out of the water after rising your hair. In the mirror, you notice a mark on your neck, and you walk closer with a frown. "What ?" the mark vaguely resembles a bite. Right where the man bit you. But it can only be a coincidence, right ? Maybe you did this to yourself during the night.

You come out of the bathroom wearing only a towel around your chest. When you enter the room, you have the unpleasant feeling of being watched. Yet when you turn, you see nothing but the mirror hanging from the door. You are going crazy, there is no other explanation. If your mother was there, she would tell you that it was the fault of your excessive consumption of caffeine.

You sit on the edge of the bed, and the drops of water flowing from the tips of your hair mix with the perspiration. Since when your room has become this hot ? The summer is coming to an end, you should not be suffocating.

You forget all about the heat when you feel something on your shoulder, but once again, when you turn around, nothing. Maybe you should have listened to Kun when he adviced you, and Ten, not to use a ouija board in the apartment without reading the instructions first. Maybe you called something malicious, and you are going to get possessed ? At least the thought helps you calm your heart pouding in your chest before breaking into a fit of giggle. Crazy.

The front door swings open, and you stop laughing immediately. You hear the sound of shoes swinging against the drawer and get up from the bed. You do not have time to go to the door because it opens on Ten, he is breathless. "I'm going to die. It's too hot !" he yells, before falling on the bed. Sweat made his blonde hair stick to his forehead, and you resist the temptation to pull them back. "I think the aircon is broken." you mumble while Ten nods.

"I tried to turn it on this morning, but nothing, so I went to the neighbords and they are having trouble with theirs too. I think it's the end Y/n." you roll your eyes, biting your lower lip. "By the way, did you bring someone back last night ?" he asks, sitting up on his elbows.

"What ? Of course not!" one of the rules of the roommates is not to bring anyone home without telling the other so that they can find someone to keep them for the night. "Eh, don't like, I heard you talking with someone." you shake your head, you didin't bring anyone back last night.. well not that you remember. "Maybe I was on the phone ?" the question is not for Ten, but for you. Because now that you think about it, you have no memories of the day before.

You came home from work, yes, but the rest ? You do not know. You went to bed, since you woke up in your sheets and in pajamas, but nothing else. "Are you okay ?" Ten asks in a worried voice, and you nod. "Yeah, I think I'm just tired from work." Ten doesn't look convinced, but there is nothing more he can do. "Yeah, well, you should take is slow. Have some rest."

Finally, Ten gets up from the bad and walks out of the bedroom. You take the opportunity to put on light clothes. You could've just stayed naked, but that is not possible with Ten in the apartment. You do not need to go to work today, and with the heat, you don't plan on going out, so you lie in bed, your eyes on the ceiling. You need some explanation about yesterday, about your dream, and the bite mark on your neck, but for now, you also need some rest.

"You know, if you want to see me, you just have to say my name, it's not that hard." the voice is back, and you feel an unpleasant chill going down your spine. You sit up in bed and notices that is is now dark, you must have slept for several hours. You are alone in the room, and yet, the voice sounded so close, as if the man was lying next to you. "Who is here ?" you ask in a trembling voice.

You do not expect any answer, that's why when a small laugh echoes in the room, you stop moving. "You should know that." the voice responds, and you wonder if you aren't just sleeping and having a vivid dream since they seem to be more and more frequent lately. "I've been following you for a while." the voice resumes calmly, and you blink.

"Haven't you ever had the feeling of being watched, of being followed wherever you go ?" you nod. "It's me. It's always been me. I'm always with you. It's my job after all." his work ? You are lost, and he seems to feel it as he picks up. "Say my name, and you'll understand, everything will me so much easier, I promise."

You frown, but why is he so insistent ? You do not even know his damn name. "Are you there because of the ouija board ?" you ask in a small voice, and the laughter that escapes from the void gives you goosebumps. "The ouija board ? My angel, this is only material, you can't call anything through a simple wooden board, especially not me." you suddenly feel stupid for asking the question, but you had to know.

"Your name.." you whisper. "how am I supposed to know it ?" you feel the mattress dips under an invisible weight and you culd up on yourself. "I've told you my name, so many times, but you don't listen. I'll make you remember it this time." you feel a warm breath on your face, and a pression against your lips. But before you can react, the ghostly touch slides down your neck, and the pain is the same as in her previous dream when he bit you. Except this time, it's not pleasure that you feel, but real pain.

"Open your eyes, and you'll have the answer you're looking for." at these words, a sharp pain makes you open your mouth, wide, as if one had just plunged your arm in boiling water. You try to scream but no sound comes out, the pain is too much, you are already losing all of your senses, you can feel your limbs going numb, and once again, the darkness sunrrounds you.

When you open your eyes, you are in bed, and the room is still illuminated by the sun through the curtains. You look at your alarm clock, and notice that you have barely dozed off ten minutes. You rub your eyes, your eyelids are heavy, you have the impression of waking up from a very long nap. It takes a good minute for you to come back to your senses, and when you turn your head, your gaze stops on a mark on your arm.

Not a mark. A name.

A name is like engraved in your flesh on several centimeters. You hiss when you run your fingers over the wounds, it's perfectly healed and yet so painful. You read the name a few times but do not dare to say it out loud, you are afraid of the consequences. You pull yourself out of bed with difficulty and leave the room. You have no choice, you can't keep it to yourself any longer, you need to talk about it, and Ten will have no choice but to listen to you.

You find him in the leaving room, lying on the floor, fanning himself with an old magazine. "Ten.." your voice must be shaky because Ten immediately straightens up, and he stands up when he sees you holding your arm. His first thought is that you fell out of bed and broke your arm, but when he cotices the lines of your skin, he stops. "What is that ?" you shrug, and when he approches, you whine for him not to touch.

"Jae.." you shake your head vigorously; "Don't say it, please." you are ready to beg for him to remain silent, but he shuts his mouth before you have the chance to do so. He takes your free hand and directs you to the sofa when you sit. He takes a seat on the coffee table opposite and looks at the name over and over again. "It's weird." Ten looks calm, unlike you. You are clearly panicking. You heart is hammering in your chest, and soon, you can feel the tears runinng down your cheeks. You didn't even know you were on the verge of crying until now.

"Hey, don't cry, it's fine." Ten whispers, cupping your face in his hands so his eyes meet yours. He reads nothing but confusion and fear. "What's wrong with me Ten ?" your voice breaks his heart, so low and quavering. "Seems to be your.. your guardian ?" you tilt your head, urgning Ten to continue. "Our guardian angel. They manifest themselves when they feel that we need help. But they are here long before, they are always near us to be sure that they can help us even is we cannot see or feel them. Saying their name is the only way to make them appear, but- but it's never like that."

He's talking about the mark on your arm, you know it. Ten had a visit from his guardian angel when he was barely 15, because he needed it, and he doesn't have any irreversible marks on his skin, and he's not traumatized by the experience, unlike you. "Guardian angels aren't meant to hurt you, it's quite the opposite." the more he talks, the more you feel lost. Why you ? What avec you done in your previous life to receive such treatment ? "Maybe there was a mistake, and you got a demon instead of an angel." Ten is kidding, but that simple thought could answer so many of your questions.

"But- but what if it was true ? What is if it was a demon ?" you ask, and Ten shakes his head. "If it was a possibility, don't you think we would know ?" you don't want to think about the possilibities of why you've never heard of this kind of thing, so you sigh, lowering your head. "Until we know more, don't say the name, and try to clear your mind of all this, okay ?" You nod, it's not like you have any other choice.

The following days are alike for you, except for the growing sensation of being watched and followed wherever you go. You try somehow not to look at your arm, but it's difficult. It's like a magnet. After the fifth day, you walk through the apartment door with a long sigh, it's been a long day. Ten is absent, he warned you that he would spend the evening with some of his childhood friends. Perfect.

You put your things in the bedroom, and you walk to the living room to settle on the sofa. You turn on the television, not to watch it, but to have some backgroun noises, and you look at your arm. What's the worst that could happen ? You shrug, and take a deep breath. "Jaehyun." you whisper, and when you see that nothing is happening, you speak in a louder voice. "Jaehyun."

The television turns off, and the lights flicker around you. You grab a pillow, as if it would help protect yourself in the event of a sudden attack from the stranger. "Jaehyun." you repeat one last time, and a shape begins to materialize in front of the sofa. The man's face is the last to appear, and yes, that's the face you've seen so much in your dreams. He watches you curiously, his head tilted to the side. He doesn't seem to believe that you can finally see him, that you finally called his name.

"You did it, you said my name." he says in a voice that's more softer that what you were expecting and walk over. If the sofa wasn't glued to the wall, you would've gone over it to escape. But when he sees your reaction, he throws both hands in the hair. "Don't be afraid, I'm not going to do anything to you." his voice is meant to be comforting, and you get up from the sofa to observe him, not without letting go of your trusty cushion.

"You said if I said your name, I would understand everything. Explain yourself, because I feel like I'm going crazy." Jaehyun feels the weakness in your voice, and he blames himself for it, but he couldn't take it anymore, he couldn't stay away from you any longer. Being near you is a vital need for the demon. "Calm down, I'll tell you everything." he sits down on the armchair, his legs crossed like a child. With a nod of his heads, he bids you to take a seat, and you obey.

"I must warn you immediately that I don't have the answer you are looking for. I don't know why you were assigned to a demon, and not an angel." if you had knows that you wouldn't get the answer to the question you deem the most important, you wouldn't have called his name. But you'll listen to him, and you'll see if you can send him back eventually. "All I know is that I've been following you for a very long time, and that I would never hurt you."

The demon has a soft voice, but that doesn't stop you from not believing those words. "You tried to kill me the other day, in my dream." Jaehyun shakes his head, a thin smile on his face. Speaking of his face, you notice that he is very handsome with pretty dimples making him look almost childish. He looks like an angel. "It's not what you think, you had to wake up, and you had to say my name." He gets up, and walks over to you. "I promise you, that will never happen in real life. You are under my protection, and nothing will ever happen to you. "

He was right, nothing happened to you.

When you say nothing happened to you, nothing happened to you at all. Your life was already not very exciting, so with the arrival of the young demon, it became even worse. The boys who dare to approch you are quickly sent away because of Jaehyun who does not seem to appreciate their presence around you. Even Ten doesn't spend as much time with you as he used to, and it hurts.

"Why are you ignoring me ?" you ask, dropping down on the sofa next to Ten who doesn't take his eyes off his phone. He shrugs, and you frown. "Tell me, what did I do wrong ? I miss you." you whisper, and Ten sighs before putting down his phone. Well, hetting his attention is a success, now the conversation. "It's your little dog. He follows you everywhere, it's impossible to have a moment with you without him showing up and threatening to smash my knees."

You shake your head. "What are you talking about ? Jaehyun has never threatened to smash your knees, he is not threatening anyone, he just want to make sure I'm safe." Ten's laughter is cold, and extremely sarcastic. "Please, this is not protection, this is unhealthy possessiveness." Ten sits cross-legged and watches you. "Jaehyun does everything in his power to keep people away from you, Y/n, including me, yet god knows I wouldn ever hurt you."

At the simple mention of his name, the demon appears in the living room. Ten jolts, and winces at the burning smell that seems to follow Jaehyun everywhere he does, but you are used to it. Jaehyun frown as he walks over to the sofa where he looks at the two of you. Seeing you together created something very unpleasant in his chest. Jealousy, yes, that's it. "What is going on ?" he asks, and you are always surprised to hear how much his tone of voice changes when he is not talking to you. From soft and soothing, his voice becomes cold and as sharp as a knife.

"Nothing, nothing is going on !" Ten growns as he gets up from the sofa. He could confront the demon about his behavior, but he doesn't want to do it in front of you. So he walks around him, looking at him with utter disgust, and he locks himself in his room, slamming the door on the way. "Did I do something wrong ?" Jaehyun asks, sitting down next to you, his head tilted. He looks innocent, but he is not, he's so far from being innocent. Even though you've never seen him hurt anyone, you know he's done it before, and can do it at any moment.

Yes, you learned to appreciate Jaehyun, but that doesn't stop you from knowing deep down that demons are up to no good most of the time.

"Ten told me you threatened to harm him." you say, and Jaehyun tenses up, but only for a second before he regains his composure. "What ? But why would I do something like this ! He doesn't like me, he's just looking for a reason to get rid of me." he mumbles, and you do not answer.

"What are you doing ?" Jaehyun's voice startle you, you didn't expect to see him in the bathroom doorway, watching you. "What are you doing here ? Shouldn't you be taking a bath in hell or something ?" Jaehyun is used to that kind of little mean jokes, especially when you are tired, so he choose to not respond. "Are you going out ? Where are we going ?" he asks with the excitement of a child, and you turn to him, shaking your head.

"I'm going out. You stay here." You explain, but it doesn't suit Jaehyun whose expression turns sour. "No, no, I'm coming with you. I can't leave you alone." you sigh. "The goal of a guardian is to give advice, to be sure that we are making the right decisions, not to follow up wherever we go." you mumble. It is not right that Jaehyun is everywhere with you. He has to protect you, yes, you understand tha part, but it's getting too much, he is invasible and you are suffocating.

"I'm not like other guardians." he growls, and you fold your arms accross your chest, looking at the demon's reflection in the mirror. You are too tired to argue. "I'm not asking for you opinion, Jaehyun you stay here while I go out. I don't need to have you glued to my ass."

You will later learn that you should never have said that.

Jaehyun was absent for the following days.

No matter how much you called his name over and over, he never answered. Even the feeling of being followed and watched stopped, and for a moment, you wondered if you had scared the demon away. And you got used to your new daily life very well. You shouldn't have.

Earlier in the evening, you were persuaded by Ten to joing him at a party organized by several of his co-workers to celebrate his promotion. Normally you would've stayed home to red, but tonight, you wanted to have fun. And it is for this reason that you currently find yourself pressed against the wall of a room of which you don't know the owner, kissing a boy of who you are not sure to have understood the name. Joe ? John ? Johnny ? You do not know, you couldn't hear it with the hubbub of the guests and the music.

You close your eyes when you feel the boy's hands slip under your t-shirt. His fingers are cold, which contrasts with your burning skin. "Coming was a great idea." he whispers close to your ear, his warm breath making you shiver softly. His lips slide down your neck for warm, and wet kisses, and you take the opportunity to unbuckle his belt and remode the button that holds his hean in place. With your foot, you slide it down until it falls loose around his ankles, so yuo can have access to the obvious tent in his briefs.

You stroke his cock through the fabric, and you smile as he tenses, his breath hitching against your throat. Your mouth open with a loud moan when you feel Johnny's teeth dig nto the skin between your neck and shoulder. The pain is extremely pleasant, and you press harder against his dick. "You are so hot." you smile, and play with the waistband of his brieds, snapping it against the skin of his hip. "So I've been told."

Soon, Johnny's lips are back on yours, and you can taste the alcohol he drank earlier, and he you had been drinking more than you had smoked, you would find it nice, but for now, the mix is pretty disgusting. Johnny breaks the kiss to catch his breath, and you looks into his eyes as you slowly pulls down his underwear. You frown when he opens his eyes wide, and before you can move, he is thrown back and slumped against the opposite wall.

"What the fuck!" you whisper when your gaze lands on Jaehyun. His eyes have nothing beautiful anymore, they are dark and frightening, like in your dreams. His breathing his heavy and rapid, he is enraged, you call feel it in the tense atmosphere of the room. "Jaehyun, what have you done !" you say when you finally come out of your torpor. As if he had just noticed your presence, Jaehyun turns to you and.. and he smiles. "I'm protecting you, my love."

"He was not hurting me !" you walk around the demon to join Johnny whose eyes are closed. Even in the dim light of the bedroom, you can see the blood streaming down his forehead. "Hey, hey, can you hear me ?" you asks. You are about to put your hand on him to shake him when Jaehyun grabs your wrist to force you on your feet. "He was going to hurt you, I felt it!" he says.

You try to extricate yourself from his grip, but he's much stronger. He pulls you against his chest, the heat emanating from his skin is strong, and he puts an arm around your waist to make you you do not move. "You can't trust them, Y/n, I'm the only one who'll never hurt you." His lips are close to yours, and like his body, his breath his hot.

Love ? You didn't know that a demon was capable of feeling anything like love. And why you ? What do you have more than other humans ? "Do you remember what I told you in your dream ?" He asks and you tilt your head, trying to remember. "I told you that I would show you wonders that humans can only dream of. And I will, but for that, you have to stay with me. You have to trust me."

You bite the inside of your cheek. Jaehyun is the dream boy. And when he behaves like a random human, you forget everything. But it is not an average boy you have in front of you, no, it's a demon, and yet..

"Is it true ?" you ask, and he frowns. "Do you really love me ?" he nods. "I love you, more than anyone will ever be able to love you." when he feels your fingers on his face, he smiles so fondly that he looks like a real angel. After all, demons are angels too, they just chose to follow a different god, you think.

"What are we going to do ?" you ask, glancing down at Johnny's limp body and Jaehyun sighs, annoyed at being cut off during such an intimate moment he's been waiting for. "I'll take care of it, you should go home." finally, he releases his hold on your waist, and you take a step back. You retrive your jacket that Johnny had thrown on the bed on entering the room, and you turn one last time when you open the door.

Jaehyun is hunched over Johnny's body, and if you weren't so confused by the whole situation and inebriated, you could swear you saw a red glow shine in the demon's eyes. You shake your head, and leave, closing the door behind you. In the hallway, you meet a guest who is about to open the bedroom door. "If I were you, I wouldn't go in there. Someone threw up, it's not pretty." the person, a boy with long blond hair growls and turns around. "Fuck, I saw no one in the fucking bedrooms."

You find Ten in the crowd, glass in hand, so you make you way to your roommate. You put a hand on his shoulder and lean in to whisper in his ear. "I'm not feeling well, I'm going home." he nods, before answering. "You want me to come with you ?" you refuse, explaining that it was his evening, he should take advantage of it and have fun. You promise to send him a message when you get home, and with that, you leave the house.

You take a deep breath when you step outside. The air is cold, and rain is starting to fall, just what you needed to cool your burning skin. You look at Ten's car parked in the driveway, and sigh when you realize you'll have to walk.

It is while walking in a dark alley of the city that you begin to regret the sensation of being watched from afar that Jaehyun gives you, because even if you have never admitted it, you feel safe. But now, you can't feel a thing, and you keep looking over your shoulder to make sure you are not being followed. But it must be your lucky day, because you arrive in front of your apartment in one piece, without having had any altercation with a drunk person.

The partment is empty, and silent.

You walk to the bedroom, and get rid of your wet clothes that smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke. You pull on a hoodie you find on the back of your office chair, and sit on the edge of your bed. All alone with your thoughts, you force yourself not to think of Johnny, and his inert body. You don't even know if he was still alive when you left, and what will Jaehyun do ? Is he going to call an ambulance ? Pass it off as an alcohol-related accident ?

You start to shake, your eyes filling with tears, you shouldn't have left, you should have helped Johnny. A sob escapes your lips, and it is at this precise moment that you feel a touch on your hands which are placed on your thighs. The contact is warm, and though you are still alone, you know it's Jaehyun. It's always Jaehyun.

"Jaehyun ?" you ask in a small voice, and you expect him to appear, but the touch on your hands disappears. After several unanswered attempts, you give up and slip under the blanket. You fall asleep in a few minutes, lulled by the sounds of the traffic outside.

You open your eyes when you hear movement near you. A form is watching over you next to the bed. "Jaehyun". you whisper, and feel a warm hand on your cheek. "You came back." your voice is full of sleep, and you push yourself on the side to make room for the demon. You have never invited him to bed, so he hesitates for a moment before lying down next to you. You lay your head on Jaehyun's chest. Is it because of the fatigue ? Alcohol ? Or the heat he gives off ? You don't know. You apprently lose the power of knowledge when the demon is around.

You feel the demon tighten, so you put a hand on his stomach. "I thought you weren't coming back, like the last few days." Jaehyun has to bend down to hear your voice, it's so low, and when he understands, he shakes his head. "I'm sorry I didn't come back." you shrug looking up at him. "I missed you, that's all."

The demon chuckles, and runs his thumb over your lower lip. "Pretty mouth tells dirty lies." he whispers, and you shake your head, sitting up. "You do not believe me ?" his lack of response is sufficient for you to understand.

You do something you never thought you would do, you kiss him softly. But the contact is quickly broken by Jaehyun who watches you in the half-light, incredulous. "Why did you do that ?" you sigh, you don't know yourself, but you still open your mouth. "You love me, right ? More than anyone can ever love me ?" when he nods, you kiss him once more, and he responds this time. If at the beginning the kiss was slow and gentle, it become a little more passionate, more feverish.

"Come on, you need to sleep, you've had a hell of a day." Jaehyun whispers against your lips, and you sigh. You lie down appropriately, and Jaehyun pulls you to his chest. It's strange to hear a heart beat in the chest of a demon, but you close your eyes. Yes, you had an exhausting day.

After this evening, the relationship between you and your demon changed considerably. If before you did everything possible to get rid of him, now you no longer seem capable to go a minute without him near you. Whether it's by being there, or just a reassuring presence. And Jaehyun is delighted. That's what he always wanted, to be there for you, and with you as much as he wants. For the first time since he first saw you, he no longer feels that nasty pressure in his chest when he sees you getting close to a boy, or when he can't be with you. He feels light, and free.

This morning, when he wakes up, he feels a weight on his hips. He opens his eyes groaning at the bright light in the room, but when his gaze lands on you, he smiles. He puts his hands on your waist, and you lean in to kiss him. Jaehyun wonders how you always tastes sweet, but he is not complaining, it's enjoyable, and addicting. Everything is addicting when it comes to you.

"What did I do to deserve such a sweet treat ?" he asks after breaking the kiss, and he chuckles softly when you case his lips with a pout. "You have to answer my question first if you want another treat." Jaehyun's hands slide under your sleeping shirt, and you shiver slightly. "Can you still manipulate my dreams ?" the demon remains silent for a while, but his smile is worth a thousand words. "Why, did you dream of something special ?" he asks, and you bite your bottom lip.

You lean down, nestling your face in the crook of his neck. He smells like sleep, and you. "I dreamed that you made me scream your name. That you kept telling me that I was yours, and that you would do everything in you power to stay close to me."

Jaehyun nods every now and then, and his smile growns. It's almost carnivorous the way he smiles. "That's exactly what I would do, if I could manipulate your dreams, of course." he answers, and you sit up. "Oh, so you didn't ?" he shakes his head, and you roll your eyes. You know he is lying, so you intend to make him pay. It is extremely unpleasant and frustrating to wake up from a wet dream. You buck your hips, and the demon groans weakly.

He opens his eyes, and you can see lust growing in that dark and frightening void. "If you haven't manipulated my dream, maybe you should show me if you are able to do that in real life." he smirks, and flip you onto the bed of hover over you. You laugh softly, pressing your hand to your mouth, it's too early to wake up Ten. "That's what we're not going to do." Jaehyun whispers, grabbing your wrist to pull it off your mouth. "I want to hear you. I want to hear every sound you make, my love."

He places a tender kiss on your lips, and he slides his lips down your neck. He repeatedly bites the skin of your collarbone, and then your throat. He loves your throat for some reason. Your hands rest in Jaehyun's hair, and when he looks up to ask permission to remove the t-shirt he's been playing with the hem of, you nod. The piece of tissue ends up on the floor. He kisses your chest, and he slowly moves down to your stomach, never lifting his lips from your hot skin.

He lowers the waistband of your pants, and he kisses your hips, he's soft, so far from what you have been expecting. You squirm with each of his kisses, and you feel so wet, it's embarrassing. "Can I ?" he asks, and you nod vigorously. He laughs at your eagerness, and he pulls down your pants and panties and the same time. They join your shirt on the floor. You suddenly feel very shy, and all you want is to curl up. Jaehyun myst feel the change in your behavior because he looks up.

"Do you want us to stop ?" you shake your head, and urge him to come back up, which he does immediately. When he kisses you, you circle his waist with your legs, your hands already working to remove his pants. He's already half hard, and you lick his lips. You could make this last for hours, but you really need to have him inside of you as soon as possible. Hell foreplay.

"You are so perfect." he whispers, and you slide your hand over his cock. You use the precum that has built up on the tip to stroke it slowly. Jaehyun lets his head fall in the crook of your neck, and his hot breath hits against your shivering skin. You're already sweating, and so is Jaehyun, yet you haven't done anything. You continue the movements of your hand until he is completely hard, following one of the veins with the tip of your index, and it is the turn of the demon's hand to find itself between your thighs. You bite Jaehyun's lips as his fingers spread your folds to collect the slick on the pad of his fingers.

For a moment -much too short- he plays with your clit with the tips of his fingers, and soon one of them is rubbing against your hole. Slowly, far too gently, he eases his first finger inside, and you moan weakly. "Come on, please .." you whisper, you do not know what you're asking for, but your brain is already turning into mush. It's Jaehyun's fault, his warmth, his scent, his hands, everything. He adds a second finger, then moves slowly back and forth, watching for any of your reactions.

When he crooks his fingers, and he reaches that little bundle of nerves that makes you roll your eyes and moan his name, he adds a third finger, and he speeds up, his thumb on your clit. "Stop stop, it's enough." you mumble, and Jaehyun withdraws his fingers. You whine at the feeling of emptiness, but is soon replaced by the head of Jaehyun's cock. He spits into his hand to lubricate his cock before returning to his original position. He puts his hands on either side of your face, caging you. And slowly, very slowly, he eases himself inside.

"You are so tight." you close your eyes, arching your back off the bed when he bottoms out you feel the bones of his hips flush against your ass, and you refrain from not whining to make him move. You spent the past few weeks blatantly ignoring Jaehyun, and now you are acting like you're going to die if he doesn't fuck you within a minute. "Move, please."

Jaehyun pulls out until only the head is still inside, and he snaps his hips. "Oh fuck." he growls. His voice is deep, and sultry, and it makes your head spin. You wrap your arms around his neck, and pulls his face to yours for a long kiss, it's only teeth and tongue but you don't care. The pace of his thrusts is fast, and you grip Jaehyun's hair between your fingers. He moans lowly at the pain, and it's a sound you don't think you can get enough of.

“Jaehyun, Jaehyun ..” you mewl when he snaps his hips a little harder. You let your legs drop from around his waist, and you already feel that familiar warmth in the pit of your stomach. You want to reach your climax as much as you want this moment to last forever. You grip his biceps, and when he gives a rather deep thrust, you dig your nails into his skin, hard enough to draw blood. Black blood.

Jaehyun curses under his breath, and you close your eyes. You who didn't want to wake Ten up know it was a waste of time, between your moans, Jaehyun's growls and the bed banging against the wall. Poor guy, he might give you a piece of his mind later, but you don't have time to think about it, too busy getting lost in pleasure. His rhythm is erratic, he must be close to his orgasm too.

"Are you going to cum for me, my princess?" he asks, and you nod. Jaehyun bites the skin of your neck, once more, and that's enough to make you black out. You see nothing, and hears nothing more than the beating of your heart and Jaehyun saying over and over that you are his, and only his. "I will never let anyone approach or hurt you. Mine."

When you regain consciousness Jaehyun is still inside you, but his movements are slow, coming down from his high. Your thighs are shaking, and you are sticky with sweat. Jaehyun lies on top of you, being careful not to crush you with his weight, and you run your hands on his back to stroke his burning skin. "It was good, so good." you whisper and he nods.

You remain silent, both far too busy coming back on earth after a mindblowing orgasm.

"I hate you !" the voice comes from the next room, Ten's. And you look at each other before laughing softly. Jaehyun comes out, and you scrunch your nose up at the feeling of emptiness, and at the sticky cum sliding down your thighs. "I'm tired." you mumble in a sleepy voice. You do not know what Jaehyun does next, all you know is that when you open your eyes a little later, Jaehyun is behind you, your legs are tangled, and his breathing is regular. You go back to sleep peacefully after that.

"You fucked a demon."

This is not what you expected when you left your room this morning. Your legs are numb, and your neck is painful from Jaehyun's many bites. Ten is on the couch, his laptop poised precariously in his lap. "I fucked a demon." you repeat, sitting down next to him.

"I didn't think you could fall so low." he says with a sigh, and you turn your gaze to Ten with a frown. You have had one-night stands with various kind of students students, and he never had the nerve to make that kind of comment. It's strange coming from Ten, but after all he's right, he's a demon, not just some stupid college student who sells drugs to pay for his porn's subscriptions.

"Oh, don't be like that Ten." you sigh, and he shrugs, refocusing on his computer. After a minute or two, you nudge him to get his attention. "Have you heard from Johnny?" you ask, suddenly curious about the condition of the poor boy who was unlucky enough to run into Jaehyun.

"Johnny? Why? Did you see him somewhere?" Ten puts his computer on the coffee table, and he turns to you. He's not making fun of you, he's serious when he talks. "What do you mean ?" you ask, trying to control the tremors in your voice. "No one has seen Johnny since the party."

The news hits you like a slap in the face, you thought he would be on his feet with a few missing memories, not that he would be actually missing. You get up from the couch, and without a word for Ten, you head for the bedroom. Jaehyun is still sleeping, so you pick up a pillow and swings it over him.

"Jaehyun, wake up!" it takes him several minutes to open his eyes, frowning. After a night like the one you had just spent, he expected a sweet awakening, and a few kisses, not being hit with a pillow. "What? What's going on?" you cross your arms against your chest. "Johnny. What have you done to Johnny? No one's seen him since..since the party!"

Jaehyun sits up, resting his back against the headboard. He rubs his eyes, and he takes his sweet time waking up before opening his mouth. "I did the right thing." if he thinks you are going to be satisfied with that answer, he is wrong. "The right thing? The right thing was to call an ambulance, not make him disappear! Where is he?" your voice is more urgent but you have to be silent so as not to attract Ten's attention.

"Why are you so interested in that?" he asks in a cold, sharp voice. He gets up from the bed with a smooth and graceful movement, and he walks towards you until you are locked between his body and the wall. "Do you like him? Is that why?" you shake your head, avoiding his threatening gaze. "Don't say such things! I don't like him, I just want to know why you did that!"

A low growl is heard, and if you could, you would try to become one with the wall. You squeak when Jaehyun's fingers rest around your throat. He takes a step forward, and he's so close that you can feel his breath against your lips. "You're mine, Y/n, I did what it took to keep him from coming back. And I would do it again. Again, and again. Until you figure out you don't need nobody. You only need me, do you understand me correctly? "

You grab his wrist as his grip tightens around your throat. You are already starting to feel the burning in your lungs from the lack of oxygen. "Jaehyun .. please I didn't mean to hurt you." your voice is weak, and so trembling that you wonder if he understood a single word of what you just said. "Mine." he growls before loosening his hold on your throat. You slide down the wall, tears streaming freely down your cheeks. You takes a long and difficult breath, it's extremely painful.

When you look up, Jaehyun is gone.

You feel stupid. You feel so silly for thinking that Jaehyun really loved you, and that you too could love him back. But you were wrong. It's not love Jaehyun has for you, it's an awful obsession. He doesn't show you what true love is, he manipulates you every day. And he knows how to do it, since you fell into his arms so easily after he ... after he killed Johnny.

Now that you have taken a step back, you realise that you should have been more vigilant, that you should have stayed with Johnny, and called someone yourself. You don't know what suddenly happened for you to give yourself to Jaehyun. Maybe that would have kept your life from turning into hell.

Jaehyun has made it his personal mission to make your life hell on earth.

He's always there, behind you, watching you rear, making sure no one is approaching you. When someone dares to approach you, you find yourself with blood on your clothes, and a corpse at your feet. Sad to say, but after a while you are no longer surprised. You no longer have nightmares, since nothing can be worse than your life.

Today is no different.

You woke up in Jaehyun's arms, feeling like you chest was crushed in a vise. Feeling his breath against the back of your neck is a sensation that you can't stand anymore. His hands give you chills when you thinks of all the blood they have shed. His smile is no longer angelic. And his laugh? You hear it everywhere you go. You can't do that anymore.

Lucky for you, Ten is the only person he hasn't touched yet. But for how long ? Ten is also the only person who can keep you grounded. Whenever he sees you falling back into your bad habit of letting yourself be bewitched by Jaehyun's sweet words, he is there to slap some sense into you, to remind you that you are better than that. If Ten wasn't there, you do not know where you would be.

When Jaehyun's grip on your waist loosens, you take the opportunity to slip out of bed. You take the clothes you had prepared the day before and leave the room. In the bathroom, you take a shower to get rid of the invisible dirt you feel every time Jaehyun puts his hands on you. You get dressed, and you find Ten in the kitchen. He's drinking a cup of coffee, and when he sees your face, he hands you his cup. You need it more than him.

"Are you sure ?" he asks, and you nod. Yes, you are sure, you have no other choice. "You can count on me." you walk up to Ten and places a kiss on his cheek, then turns on your heels. You put on your shoes, and after taking a long breath, you leave the apartment. You're not working today, otherwise you should have been planning this for another day.

When Jaehyun wakes up, he is surprised to be alone. The place next to him is cold, which means that you were long gone. He stands up, and he leaves the room. He searches the apartment, but all he finds is Ten and the disapproving look on his face. "Where is she ?" he asks and Ten shrugs. "She said she had to see a co-worker." that's enough to put Jaehyun in pure rage. Ten swallows hard as Jaehyun disappears, leaving behind that sickening smell of burning that he cannot get rid of. This is time for him to do something.

Doyoung is already waiting in front of the cafe when you arrive, and he smiles when he sees you. You approache, and you accept the hug he offers you. He's noticed that you haven't been yourself lately, and while he doesn't know the real reason behind this change in behavior, he's ready to help. Poor thing.

"You look tired." he says, and you sigh. You could cry, and fall into Doyoung's arms if you wanted to, but you can't, not now. "I am. Do you mind if we have coffee at my place? Ten is at work." he nods, of course he doesn't mind. You take his hand, and he intertwines your fingers. This feeling is now foreign to you who are used to the constant heat of Jaehyun's body, so feeling Doyoung's cold fingers is like comfort to you. Normality still exists.

The walk to the apartment is short. You make conversation with Doyoung who is completely oblivious to what is happening. You feel it. You feel Jaehyun behind you. You feel the holes he drills in your back with his gaze. You could even hear his heartbeat if you wanted to, heart ready to come out of his chest.

"After you." he says, like a gentleman, when you open the front door of the apartment. The apartment is empty, as you thought. Kind of. You walk towards the living room after letting go of Doyoung's hand, and you instantly miss the contact. You crave normal physical contact from a human being, it's crazy. "You want some coffee ?" he nods.

You walk to the kitchen, your hands resting on the edge of the counter, and you breathe slowly. You are ready to throw up, you are so nervous. Immediately, you find yourself leaning forward on the counter, one hand resting on you head to keep you from moving. "What do you think you're doing?" you've never heard Jaehyun be so threatening, yet he has been in the recent weeks. It's the last straw for him.

"I'm not doing anything Jaehyun, please let me go." the countertop tile is cold against your cheek, but it helps you keep your head in check. "You're really trying to make me angry! You haven't understood yet that you don't need anyone but me. I'm sure it's Ten, I should have gotten rid of him a long time ago. He's the one keeping you away from me." he releases the pressure on your head, and he walks to the living room.

When Doyoung's gaze lands on Jaehyun, he frowns. He certainly didn't expect the boy to grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him up to him. "She's mine." the rest is a mix of screams and blood splashing on the walls. You watch the scene, and you don't move. You cry, you can't help it, and a sob escapes your lips when Doyoung's gaze meets yours one last time. "I'm sorry." you articulate. You had no other choice.

Jaehyun drops Doyoung's limp body, and he turns to you. He is about to take a step forward when he finds himself blocked by an invisible force field. "What is happening ?" he growls. He tries to move, but he is unable to come out of this small circle protected by something that is drawing a lot of energy from him.

"It's the only solution, Jaehyun." you murmur, voice broken by another sob. You look at the ground, and Jaehyun follows your gaze. He was so angry that he hadn't noticed the absence of the coffee table in the living room, and the white chalk drawing on the dark wood floor. A pentacle was drawn there by Ten when you went out to retrieve your victim. "Why why !" he screams, and you take a step back.

You know he can't reach you, you spent hours researching it, the best way to trap a demon, and yet you can't help but feel your organs tighten with fear. "I can't do this anymore, Jaehyun." Jaehyun punches his fists against the invisible force field, and the more he does so, the redder his eyes turn. If you get close, you're sure you could see the flames of the underworld reflecting.

"I love you, Y/n! I love you more than .." he starts, but you cut him off. "Yes, more than anyone will ever be able to love me. But that's not love, Jaehyun." you can't describe the anger you reads on the demon's face. "I've killed for you baby, who else could say that?" he's using a nickname you liked for a while, but that only reinforces your decision. "Killing for me wasn't the best way to prove me your love."

"I killed an angel for you! I killed an angel to be with you!" you open your eyes wide to his words. "You- you killed my guardian angel." he nods, a proud expression on his demonic face. So everything that happened was not because of a mistake, but because Jaehyun wanted to be with you. Because he needed to be near you. "You are a monster."

This is the obvious. Jaehyun laughs and you feel your blood boiling inside of you. "Ten, you can come, it's okay." The apartment was not really empty, Ten was hiding in his room waiting for the signal. He stops in front of Jaehyun, and he can't help but smile when he sees that the demon can't reach him. "Oh, the poor little demon can't do anything, that's too bad." you roll your eyes, of course Ten was going to tease him.

It is your turn to approach the pentacle on the ground, and Jaehyun. Despite all the anger in his eyes, you can also see how much love he has for you. And you know that no one can ever love you as much as he does, that's right. But you don't mind, you don't need love like that. You need pure love that will never hurt you. If you can ever trust someone after that.

"You know, for a while, I really thought I could love you, Jaehyun." you explain in a tender voice. "But you're nothing but a monster, you don't deserve to be loved. And you don't deserve to love. At least here you won't hurt anyone anymore." you look at the demon whose face break into something you can't explain, an expression you had never seen on him. It looks like..understanding, pain, and mixed with that natural anger. It's the last time you'll ever see this face, and deep down, it hurts, but it's for the better. You leave the living room.

Ten is in front of the door, with the suitcases you packed the day before. You are ready to start a new life, far from here, far from Jaehyun and the blood he shed in this city of doom. You open the door, and you and Ten walk out of the apartment. The last thing you hear before the elevator door closes are Jaehyun's screams. He is begging for release, begging for forgiveness, promises he can never keep.

"It's you and me against the world, once again." Ten says, and he takes you hand. Yes, it's just the two of you now. You, and a trapped demon.

Trapped, but for how long ?

#nct #nct imagines #jaehyun imagines #nct scenarios #jaehyun scenarios #nct smut #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun #the tags better work istg

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itsthemoofacewriting · 3 years

Text

It’s heaven in your arms

Well, this is just a clusterfuck of emotions. Let me lead you down the path of grief and mourning only for it to end with a bed sharing trope.

I have no idea if there are even people that like the original trio together romantically, but I was really vibing, so hopefully I can convince some of my regular readers to take the plunge.

If any of my ZoNami readers are here, I’m doing the requests you all sent in – I swear!

I’m not sure what to expect from posting this, so I’ll say this once pre-emptively: if this isn’t your cup of tea, you know where the door is, please leave quietly.

Summary: It may have been two years since Ace’s death but, for Luffy, sometimes it still felt like just yesterday. Or, sometimes, something beautiful can blossom from a place of hurt. Rating: T

You can also find this on AO3 and FFN.

Nami awoke, eyes burning from lack of sleep and mouth dry. It was still dark outside, and she grumbled to herself at waking up so early, but it was no use. She wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep until she had a glass of water. She swung her feet off the bed, clumsily trying to find her slippers before getting up. It was warm outside, so she didn’t bother with anything other than her pyjama top and shorts.

As annoying as it was to be awake so early, it was peaceful. It was a quick shuffle across the deck and into the kitchen, where she filled her glass hastily, already thinking about getting back into bed.

That last thing she expected when leaving the kitchen was the sight of Luffy sitting on the railing, facing the ocean with his feet kicking over the edge. Reckless as always it seemed.

“If you fell, no one would be around to save you,” She lectured.

His shoulders hunched; she’d surprised him it seemed, but he didn’t react as she’d expected. There was no carefree laughter or beaming grin as he told her not to be a worry wart. Instead, she received a muffled, “You’re up.”

Without looking at his face she didn’t know how to take that but his whole attitude was off, and it had alarm bells going off in her head. The comfort of her bed a distant memory now as she walked over to the railing to join him and settled her glass of water beside herself.

The words on the tip of her tongue vanished into the night air when she finally caught sight of his face. His eyes were red and puffy, his face pale despite his constant tan and drawn. It was an expression she’d never seen on his face. He looked defeated.

He looked tired.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head, just as she’d expected him too and uttered out a quiet, “No.”

“That’s okay, but I’m going to sit here,” she told him. He could sit in silence if that was what he wanted, but she wouldn’t leave him, that wasn’t an option.

She took his hand in hers because whilst he may not want to speak, he’d always been a tactile person and she couldn’t just sit here and not do anything when there were tears still running down his face.

They sat in silence, only the sound of the waves hitting the ship could be heard with their thighs pressed snuggly against the others and his hand clasped in hers, a thumb absently roaming over the skin of his wrist. His tears had resided for the time being, only the stray one falling every now.

She felt like she was sitting with a deer, trying not to spook it because it felt like any wrong move would have him scampering away.

Well, that was until he pried his hand from hers and she was going to say something until his head feel heavily against her shoulder and an arm wrapped around her body. That was all she needed to let herself relax, no longer worried about scaring him away as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders to pull him closer.

It was another long moment of them sitting like that until he whispered in her shoulder, “It hurts.”

“What hurts?”

He was silent but the tears were back as she felt them soaking into her pyjama top.

“I had a bad dream.”

“Yeah? What about?” She encouraged softly.

“About him.” His voice cracked as he said it and his shoulders shook.

There was only one him she knew of.

“It played in a loop, and I couldn’t do anything.”

Although she was being fed the information in dribs and drabs, it wasn’t hard to piece it together. She waited for him to continue but the long pause told her he wasn’t going to.

She thought about what she’d want in that moment, if their roles were reversed, what she’d want from the other person sat with her, so she settled on, “I only met him briefly, tell me more about him. What was it like growing up with him?”

He was quiet and for a moment she didn’t think he was going to respond, that maybe that wasn’t what he wanted at all.

“He hated me when we were younger,” he said wetly, fighting through tears to talk. “I caused trouble, couldn’t fight and cried a lot. He called me cry baby all the time.”

“He didn’t when we met him in Alabasta though.” She remembered how he’d looked at Luffy, eyes full of adoration and voice warm as he asked the crew to look after Luffy for him.

He huffed out a laugh at her words, such a stark contrast to his normal boisterous laugh.

He told her everything. How Ace had gone from despising him to accepting him as a brother along with his other brother, Sabo, how they’d caused trouble together and had the best times together. How he’d made Luffy’s childhood a happy one.

It made her ache. Because as he talked, selfishly she thought about her own sister. How devasted she’d be to lose her, someone that felt like her other half since before she could remember, knew her better than anyone else, who she could talk to about anything. It was hard to explain a sibling relationship to someone without one, there was a different feeling to, you felt it in your core.

Mostly, she thought about how hollow she’d feel.

It felt like an unspoken rule that siblings were for life. You knew that parents were older and that they’d pass at some point in your life, but not your sibling. It felt like they were meant to be with you for life, that you’d grow old together and have each other’s backs no matter what to the very end.

She supposed that was part of the grief.

Although she didn’t know the ins and outs, even now Luffy was edging around his dream and what’d happened back then, she knew the key details - how Ace had jumped in front of him to save him. How Ace had died before his eyes. Even if she suspected there was more to that moment than what she knew, it was traumatic enough.

Another tangled chain to unwrap from the knotted ball of necklaces that was grief.

Ultimately, she didn’t need to know what the dream was about or what’d happened back then, because the picture she had in her mind was vivid enough and she knew how he felt. Watching someone slip away before your eyes, helpless as you watched them go and wishing you’d done something different.

Her heart bled for him as he spoke, words blurring into his tears, she could feel her own eyes prickling as sadness overflowed.

Hands clumsily wiped at her face and belatedly she realised Luffy had stopped talking. “I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he said.

Without thinking, she wiped his face in return. “It’s okay, I’m glad I get to share this with you.”

She cupped his face and she meant it as a soothing gesture, yet it seemed to have the opposite effect. Watching his face crumple before her eyes was so much worse than how she’d imagined it when his face had been buried in her shoulder. He was so expressive all the time that she shouldn’t really be surprised, his lips quivered and those big eyes scrunched as he tried to hold back his tears.

“I know I still have so much, and I should focus on that…”

“But that doesn’t make that little part feel any better?”

“Yeah.”

“I know. It’s not going to either.” He nodded glumly at her words, staying silent and she suspected it was because he couldn’t form words. “You love him. That’s not going to disappear no matter what happens.”

She continued because she needed to say it, to let him know this was okay before she the moment passed, and he locked this all away to deal with another night. “You’re allowed to mourn him, you’re allowed to feel sad without feeling guilty, but when it overwhelms you, tell one of us, okay?” She paused, thinking over her words, before adding, “And even when it doesn’t overwhelm you and you just want company, come find us.”

“Okay.” He sounded choked up, more so than before.

She brought him back into a firm hug, running her hands up and down his back, letting her words sink in and giving him a chance to speak or cry more if he wanted to.

His next words told her they were done for the time being.

“I don’t want to go back to sleep,” he said.

She didn’t have to ask why. She still woke up sometimes in the middle of the night, tears in her eyes as she relived all different versions of Bell-mère’s death, each worse than the last. She knew that he feared having to relive his worst nightmare over again or catching even a whisp of his brother behind closed eyelids, taunting him over the fact that that would be the only way he’d ever be able to see him again.

“I don’t either,” she lied smoothly, “We could raid the fridge-” Sanji would understand- “or I could show you a new card trick or we could go draw on Zoro’s face. He’s probably up in the crow’s nest and he sleeps like a log.”

Luffy grinned, it didn’t reach his eyes like it normally did but that was okay, it was an improvement on the solemn expression from before. “Usopp just bought new markers!”

They both turned at the sound of heavy footsteps and the very person they’d been planning to mess with was stood only a few steps away.

“Why do you two look guilty?” He looked suspiciously at them both.

Neither of them answered, but she saw the moment Zoro noticed Luffy’s face and took in his red, puffy eyes and worn expression. His demeanour changed instantly, he looked serious, and he didn’t say anything more as he joined them on the railing, pressing up to Luffy’s vacant side and taking his other free hand into his- he could probably feel that it was wet from Luffy’s tears.

The ocean lapped silently against the ship and whatever plans her and Luffy had made seemed to be put on hold as he stayed sat on the railing, but that was fine with her, she was happy to sit there with him in silent support.

“It should’ve been me,” Luffy finally spoke, voice sure but only a whisper.

Those were heavy words, she imagined how often that thought circled around in his head and how hard it must have been to finally say it out loud.

“That’s stupid,” Zoro said.

“Zoro,” she hissed. For his blunt words and because Luffy looked on the verge of tears, it made her heart crumble all over again.

“Ace loved you a lot and he didn’t do it for you to think that; he wouldn’t want that. It was his choice and he made it and he’d do it a hundred times over.”

He made a good point, she knew that, but a tough love speech felt too soon.

“Zoro’s not stupid all the time,” Luffy defended weakly, smile wobbly.

Maybe not.

“Oi.”

Nami shook her head, smiling slightly at their antics. “Unfortunately, I have to agree with you. Shall we agree it’s a 10% smart and 90% stupid?”

Zoro tried to look miffed, although it was betrayed by the smirk tugging at his lips. He knew what she was doing, trying to lighten Luffy’s spirits, so he let it slide.

“Well, we can’t draw on Zoro’s face now-” Zoro glowered at her- “but if you want an extra challenge, we could get Usopp or Sanji.” They were light sleepers; she knew he’d be up for the challenge.

Luffy smiled, nodding tiredly and stifled a yawn that had her and Zoro sharing a quick look between them.

“You can sleep with me if you want,” Zoro offered nonchalantly and Luffy perked up at that.

She should leave them to get on with it. They’d made their arrangements already and in the back of her mind, she knew she should, but Luffy’d told her so much, it felt callous to just palm him off. And maybe, somewhere deep down she didn’t like the thought of being left out. Maybe.

The words were out before she’d properly thought them through.

“You can both sleep in my bed.”

“Like a sleepover!” Luffy said and his eyes brightened, a shimmer of what normally resided there returning.

“It’s a one-time offer and no one tells Sanji!” Nami warned even though Luffy looked considerably lighter and Zoro was smirking at her. She didn’t doubt Zoro would store that away to use against Sanji later, but she’d deal with that then. And if he decided to blab, she’d then have the perfect opportunity to charge him, and he wouldn’t be able to say a thing.

The walk to her room was quiet, only the sounds of their shoes thumping against the deck with every step, getting louder and louder as they got closer to her room. She wondered if she’d regret this. What if she’d made it awkward? She should’ve just let Zoro and Luffy bunk together.

Opening the door felt heavy, like something awful would be waiting for her on the other side. Instead, there was just a dark, muted room to greet her and the awkwardness she felt doubled to the point she wondered if the other two felt it too. She wasn’t sure if she was thankful or not that Robin was still asleep, facing away from them.

All those thoughts were put to rest as Zoro and Luffy moved past her, seemingly more than comfortable with this arrangement than her. Zoro shucked off his boots and settled against the far side of the bed so his back faced the wall and Luffy kicked off his flip flops, his hat already sat safely on her bedside unit.

“Absolutely not,” Nami whispered fiercely, hands on hips and they both peered up at her quizzically. “I’m not sleeping on the edge only to wake up on the floor. Zoro, swap.”

“What, so I can wake up on the floor instead?”

“You can sleep anywhere!”

Luffy had snickered at their bickering, watching them go back and forth until he seemingly grew bored of that and stretched his arm out to wrap around her waist. As his arm snapped back, he dragged her with it, she collided with the both of them in her bed. Like a true rubber man, Luffy looked unbothered although she was fairly sure she’d kicked him, but Zoro wheezed behind her as she’d winded him with her elbow.

“That hurt!” Nami moaned.

“Think before you do that!” Zoro grouchily whispered.

“There we go, now we’re all cosy.” He ignored them both, nestling down into the bed as his arm reached across Nami to rest over onto Zoro.

“Luffy!” She squawked, rosy faced. “Move over! You have all that space!”

This was not what she’d had in mind when she’d invited them… into her bed. Although she didn’t have a massive bed, she’d thought they’d at least try to keep their distance, she hadn’t expected this. Luffy was so close she could feel his breath on her face and his hair brushed against her forehead, no doubt mingling in with her own strands. She could feel Zoro spooned behind her, his own arm outstretched across them both and she was only now just considering how appropriate her pyjama shorts were. Which was ridiculous, it was only those two.

All of this didn’t feel right, they were there for Luffy, he should be the one in the middle not her. He should be the one squashed between them, safe and warm and feeling supported, not her. Yet one look at his face put all of that to rest. You could still tell he’d been crying; the puffiness would take a few hours to go down, but he looked relaxed, the tormented and weight in his expression gone.

He looked content.

And that was enough right now for her brain to shut off, thoughts pushed to the back for another day, and have her burying into the warmth from the two bodies next to her with the knowledge that everything would be okay for now.

----------------------------------

This was meant to be a one-shot, but it’s now a two parter at no one’s request. I’m writing/editing the second chapter right now; it’s on its way.

I used to ship LuNami hard when I was younger, but I think I’ve lost my ability to write them romantically nowadays… unless you throw in Zoro and then it’s back on apparently.

I write and edit all my pieces by myself, so if there’s any errors, please excuse them.

Thanks for reading.

#zoluna #Luffy/Zoro/Nami #LuffyxZoroxNami #LuNami #ZoNami #zolu #opwriting #opfanfic #One Piece #Luffy #Zoro #Nami

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thesightstoshowyou · 4 years

Note

Re: milestone event, maybe a continuation of your Tommy fic where one night the reader wakes up all hot thinking of him and finally seeks him out in the middle of the night to take care of it seeing as unfortunately he has yet to bust into the room to take them? Your fic for Tommy and Jason are my FAV just *mwah* fantastic I didn't realize I was into Tommy until you

I like the way you think anon ;)

Sweet Dreams

Thomas Hewitt x F Reader (NSFW)

Part 3

Read Part 2 here

Summary: You wake in the night burning with need. You seek Tommy out, earn his trust, and he repays you in kind. RIP to other guys but Thomas Hewitt is different.

Warnings: FLUFF holy shit, so much fluff, oral, praise kink, squirting, creampie

Hands, thick, strong hands caress your thighs, spreading you open as you cling to burly shoulders, sweat spilling from your brow until you taste salt on your lips—

Your eyes pop open. Moonlight spills through the curtains, the only light illuminating your dark room. It’s starting to feel less like a prison cell with every day that passes, but this thought does not bring you comfort. Very little comforts you here, in this house, in this rotting town. Only one thing, one person, prevents you from actively trying to escape….

You’d dreamt of him again. You grind your thighs together, trying to relieve the deep ache these excruciatingly vivid dreams bring. You have no idea how late it is, or how early. A sigh rushes past your lips. There’s no way anyone is up at this hour and you’re locked in your room until morning. God, you long to go to him.

The stomp of heavy footfalls coming down the hall reaches your ears. You’d recognize those steps anywhere. Thomas….

Ripping the covers off your sweaty form, you leap from the bed and cross the room in a flash. Gently, you knock on the door, not wishing to wake anyone else.

“Tommy?” You ask quietly, praying he hears you. The footsteps abruptly pause just outside your door. You hold your breath as you hear rustling. The lock clicks.

You step out of the way, letting the door swing open. Thomas fills your doorway, hair still damp from a shower, wearing nothing but a pair of slacks. And the damn mask, of course. It looks as though he’d just thrown it on so he could open your door, one of the straps half-clasped. He’s watching you closely, furrow in his brow, most likely worried something is wrong.

“Hi,” you whisper with a small smile, “I’m okay. Just wanted to see you.” Thomas glances shyly away at your words and you take the opportunity to drag your gaze over his brawny shoulders, shoulders you’d just been dreaming about digging your nails into. You flush at the memory, suddenly nervous to ask for what you want.

Instead you close the distance between you, hesitantly reaching up to run your fingers along the slit in Thomas’ mask, brushing the digits over his lips. He tenses, hands coming up to settle timidly on your hips Do you dare…?

“Tommy,” you whisper, meeting his anxious stare. This is such a sensitive topic. How do you broach the subject without upsetting him? You swallow, “Tommy, I want to kiss you…without this.” You lay your hand against his cheek, thumb stroking the leather of his mask.

As you’d guessed, his eyes widen and he immediately steps away from you, shaking his head and turning to leave. Anxiously, you bite your lip, slipping your hand into his to keep him from fleeing.

“Tommy, you have no idea how bad I want you right now. All the time, actually,” you say quickly with a breathy laugh, “How bad I want all of you.” Thomas meets your gaze over his shoulder and you can see he’s frowning again, like he can’t believe you. Your heart breaks, chest constricting painfully.

You move to him again, pushing up on your tip toes to press your lips to his shoulder before moving to his neck. Deeply, you inhale the sharp scent of his soap as you nuzzle your nose just under his ear. Your hands roam across his chest, fingers tracing all the scars littering his torso. Thomas shudders, arms wrapping around you and pulling you tight against him. He clings to you like a lifeline, just like he had that first day in the cellar.

“You’re not gonna scare me away. I need you, Tommy, so, so bad. I love the way you make me feel. You…you don’t have to show me right now, but I hope that, someday, you will.”

Thomas moves to cup your cheeks, cradling your face in his huge palms. He searches your expression, your eyes, looking for a lie, for any hint of teasing. You meet his gaze, willing him to feel your sincerity. Blue eyes drop to your lips and he frowns again. You can see him thinking, weighing the pros and cons.

He must not find what he’s looking for because you see his eyes soften. Tommy lets out a tremulous breath and you give him a small, reassuring smile. Slowly, so slowly, as though his hands weigh a thousand pounds each, he reaches up to unbuckle the strap of his mask. You grip his shoulders to quiet his trembling.

Finally, Thomas lowers the mask from his face. You are hyper-aware of your expression, knowing Tommy will miss nothing. You keep your face passive, blank as you examine the missing nose, the lesions and scar tissue along the side of his mouth, his cheek. You wonder what caused it; a deformity? A disease?

Truthfully, you’d expected much worse. You’d been imagining the potential horrors under that mask from day one. It’s anticlimactic, really.

Thomas isn’t looking at you. He’s so tense, shoulders bunched under your hands, his eyes fixed on a spot past your left shoulder. You tip your head to the side, cupping his cheek and gently forcing him to meet your gaze. You smile warmly, bringing your other hand up to trace his bottom lip with your thumb.

“Can I kiss you now, Tommy?” you whisper. Thomas blinks, astonished. He lets out another huge breath and you realize he’d been holding it this hold time. You nod, assuring him you mean the truth, and pop up on your toes again to meet him halfway.

Shaking, Thomas wraps his arms around you again and presses his lips to yours. You sigh into his mouth, glad to have the barrier gone. You sigh becomes a squeak and a giggle when Tommy lifts you off your feet. You wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his hips, clinging to him like he does you. The mask lays at his feet, forgotten.

“Take me to your room?” you murmur, brushing his hair out of the way to kiss the shell of his ear. You don’t have to ask twice. Tommy carries you down the hall, moving as silently as he can so as not to alert anyone else in the house.

Once safely inside his room, dark but for the moonlight bathing the room in soft light, Thomas gently sets you on the edge of his bed, hurrying across the room to close the door before promptly returning to you. You spread your thighs so he can kneel between them and you pull him flush against you, peppering his bare face with kisses, ending at his lips so you can slip your tongue in his mouth.

He’s clumsy at first, but Tommy once again proves to be a fast learner, lips and tongue matching your earnest movements. You break away to catch your breath, grinning wide. Biting your lip, you tug your shirt over your head, slowly, so you can make a show of it.

Reverently, Thomas smooths the palms of his hands up your abdomen, cupping your breasts and timidly leaning in to capture a nipple with his lips. He gives the hardening flesh an experimental suck and you release a hushed moan, fingers tangling in his hair to encourage him.

He moves to the other side, repeating the action until you buck your hips into him, a whispered, “Oh fuck,” spilling from your parted lips. Eagerly, Thomas eases your shorts off your hips, tossing them away and scooping up handfuls of your ass to pull you to the very edge of the bed. He wastes no time before burying his face between your parted thighs.

You must clap your hand over your mouth to stifle the surprised moan when Tommy drags his tongue through your folds. He remembers what you like from your teaching session that first day in the cellar. Shockingly fast, he finds your clit and teases it with his tongue. He sucks, licks with the tip and then the flat of his tongue, experiments with different techniques until he finds the ones that makes you squeal behind your hand.

You cum like that, hand in his hair, Thomas’ fingers digging into your hips while you buck into his mouth. You shudder, legs quivering, toes tingling, cunt dripping onto the floor. Dazedly, you wonder how long he’d been waiting to do that, as enthusiastic as he was.

“Oh my god, Tommy,” you gasp, sitting up and pulling him into another heated kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue, swallow his needy whine. Hastily, you urge him to stand, popping the button on his pants and shoving them off his hips.

You scoot back on the bed, pulling him by the hand at the same time until he’s hovering over you. You’re worried you’re going to burn up, your skin ablaze everywhere he touches you. He lifts your hips off the mattress and begins the measured process of pushing his maddeningly thick cock past your soaked folds.

Your hand returns to your mouth and you wrap your legs around his waist, arching your back when Thomas stuffs you completely full of him. You twitch, free hand fisting in the sheets when he rolls his hips, the incredible stretch now more addictive than painful. You meet his gaze as much as you can in the dark, nodding your head to urge him on.

“Yes, Tommy, please, so g-good, oh god, just like that,” you whisper, quickly biting down on your lip to stifle a cry when Thomas’ grip tightens and he bucks his hips forward. The hand in the sheets flies to the headboard to keep you from sliding up the mattress as Tommy starts pummeling your insides, using his grip on your waist to pull you into each thrust.

It’s so hard not to scream, not to wake everyone else in the house when every nerve in your body is alight with sensation, pleasure coiling so intensely in your gut you wonder if you’ll burst. Tommy groans at the feeling of your slippery muscles fluttering around him and that is enough to send you plummeting into ecstasy.

You come undone, unravelling at the seams, back arching, cunt gushing around the cock that fills it so completely. You bite the palm of your hand to quiet the euphoric shriek that erupts from your throat. Thomas emits a strangled moan as his hips stutter before slamming forward, hilting himself as he fills you to the brim.

Tommy lowers you back to the mattress before tipping forward, hands braced on either side of your head. You crane your neck, bringing your lips to his, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down so he rests between your trembling thighs. You chuckle quietly when he sets his forehead against yours, his panting breaths washing over your sweat slicked face.

“You’re getting too good at that,” you murmur, giggling when he huffs out a laugh. Thomas rolls to the side, pulling you to his chest and resting his chin on top of your head. Gradually, his breathing slows, the deep, rhythmic inhales and exhales lulling you, making your eyelids droop.

It’s easy to fall asleep in Tommy’s arms. You’ve never felt more secure. You let your eyes fall shut and, before long, you join him in sleep.

#thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #leatherface #leatherface x reader #tcm #tcm the beginning #texas chainsaw massacre #the texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw massacre the beginning #n sfw #my writing #reader insert #slashers #slasher x reader #slasher fandom #thank you for the ask

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 3 years

Text

What if...? Part 5

(I know, I knooooow....I said 4 parts. Then adjusted it to 5 parts... Guess what? I’m up to 7 now. I can only hope that will be the final number... T-T And I still blame y’all xD You beautiful enablers, you <3 You know who you are! Writer baiters, commenters and rebloggers, thank you all! <3 <3 <3)

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if...

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

She has to get away. She has to run. She has to grab Corin and run. There are no storm troopers kicking in the doors of the Covert yet, there is still time. They can still try to get away.

The thoughts keep spinning inside her head and her heart is beating so hard she can barely hear anything except the pulse thumping in her ears. Her fingertips tingle and she’s dizzy.

“Just…” Davarax turns his attention to the children staring with horror at them. “Paz, continue the training. Everything is okay. Corin, do you hear me? Your mother just had a scare, but she’ll be fine. You’re all safe. I promise. Just go back to training and I’ll be back in a bit.”

Dulsissia makes a weak sound of protest when he bends down and picks her up like she’s a bride at a wedding and not in the middle of a disaster, but he ignores her and carries her out into the hallway.

“We’re going to your room and then you’re going to tell me what’s going on.” Davarax says, it’s a gentle tone but he’s determined.

“We have to leave…” Dulsissia whispers, strangely weak and helpless all of a sudden, haunted by the countless memories of Macero unleashing his fury on others for much smaller offences than the one she’s committed against him. His pride will never recover and he will never forgive her.

Davarax doesn’t answer, merely continues walking down the hallway and doesn’t stop until she has to reach out and press the button to open the door to her and Corin’s room.

When he steps inside, she notices Davarax pausing for half a second as his gaze goes from cup to cup and whatever else she had used to put the flowers in to place them all around the room, then he snaps out of it and walks over to lower her to sit on the edge of the bed.

Once she’s steady and her feet are on the floor, Davarax crouches down in front of her. “Dulcy, tell me what happened.”

“I went above.” She replies in a whisper, staring emptily ahead. She can feel herself wringing her hands until her fingers hurt and then a pang of absent gratitude when Davarax gently places his gloved hand over them to make her stop. “I saw… There are storm troopers in Nevarro.”

There is a moment of silence before Davarax says the least thing she expects; “I know.” He doesn’t sound surprised or worried at all. “Is that what upset you? A storm trooper?”

Snapping out of her staring, Dulsissia flicks her gaze down to his t-visor. “What do you mean you know?”

Davarax gives a faint shake of his head. “There’s a military base not too far from the city. They come in to get some extra supplies some times. Nobody really wants them here, but it’s safer for the people of Nevarro to just sell them their goods and get them on their way again.”

Confusion battles with her fear and Dulsissia tries to make sense of things. If Macero knew she was here, he wouldn’t send a lone storm trooper to chat up the villagers. The city would have been burning and there would be white armor everywhere. She swallows and exhales. Just a random trooper then? Or a scout? How can she be sure? “If… if a storm trooper came here not to buy goods, but to… look for someone. You wouldn’t know the difference, would you?”

“The Covert is keeping an eye on that base, believe me. And we have ears in the city. If something was going on, we’d know.” Davarax reassures her. He seems to need to gather a bit of courage before asking his next question: “Is… is that who you are hiding from? A storm trooper?”

A bitter laugh slips from Dulsissia’s lips before she can stop it. If only! A single storm trooper she could have handled, but Macero has thousands of them at his beck and call. “I wish.”

“An officer then.” Davarax deduces. His fingers curl gently around hers. “Do you want him dead?”

He is offering. If she says yes and gives him the name, Davarax will go for Macero’s life.

Dulsissia thinks about how in a fair fight Macero wouldn’t stand a chance against Davarax’ muscle and skills, but then she also thinks about Macero hiding away in the heart of the Empire, surrounded by guards and the terrifying amount of soldiers and all kinds of horrible weapons available to him.

“No.” She lies. She will not risk having Macero take Davarax away from her and the children.

Davarax looks at her, knows she’s lying, but eventually gives a nod. He respects her choice.

“I didn’t…” Dulsissia knows she doesn’t have to explain herself to Davarax, but she wants to. She can’t stand the idea of him thinking less of her now. His opinion matters to her. “I didn’t know he was like… that when I…” She exhales, sharp with anger at herself and her own naivety. “I could have handled it if my mistake only hurt me, but… I couldn’t do that to Corin. So I ran.” She looks over at the visor and forces a smile. “I guess you’re regretting those flowers now, huh?”

“Do you still love him? The officer?”

The idea is preposterous. Dulsissia shakes her head. “The man I fell in love with back then wasn’t real. He never was. It was all an act.”

“Then, no,” Davarax reaches up and tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear, “I don’t regret them.”

Her eyes flood with tears and Dulsissia cannot believe just how good this man is. How incredibly lucky she was to have met him in her hour of need. Him, of all the souls in the Galaxy. “You are a bit too good to be true, Sir.”

Davarax hums thoughtfully before speaking in that wonderfully teasing way of his. “As I said, I’m not ‘that’ good.” He then moves up to sit next to her and sighs. “I’ll double check with the others, though I think if there was someone looking for you, asking around, we’d hear about it. But first, we’re going to go back to the kids and you’re going to tell them you had a bad experience in the city but we’ve sorted it out and you’re okay now. Sounds good?”

Dulsissia nods. “Okay. I can do that.” Her son doesn’t need to worry too.

When they step back into the training room, Dulsissia feels another stab of sharp guilt when she sees Paz ordering Din, Raga and Barthor around the room, doing exercises, but has Corin under his arm in his usual protective mode. Corin, who has his arms around the older boy’s waist in return and looks like he’s been crying earlier.

Dulsissia doesn’t hesitate to head over to them and Corin turns to wrap his arms around her waist instead when she’s close enough and she hugs him tight. “I’m sorry, baby.” She kisses his hair.

“You… you need help with… whatever?” Paz asks, looking anxiously from her to Davarax and back again. The other children stop to stare at them as well.

Smiling, torn between guilt for having caused the boy to worry as well and endlessly charmed by Paz’ very real offer to help despite not having the faintest clue about what is going on, Dulsissia reaches out and cups the side of his face with her hand. (She is definitely charmed by the instant flush it causes.) “That is very kind of you, Paz. Thank you. But me and Davarax worked it out.”

Corin looks up at her with badly hidden hope. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She ruffles Paz’ hair, he ducks away with a faint laugh, and then she focuses on her son again. “Everything is fine.”

“So you’re not leaving?” A voice asks, loud and clear.

Everyone in the room turns in surprise to look at the one who’d spoken: Din. Who rarely speaks above a mumble. He is staring at Dulsissia with agonized worry in his eyes.

“We’re not leaving.” Dulsissia confirms in a calm and reassuring voice, realizing he fears losing his new friend like he had ‘lost’ Davarax. “We’re staying right here with you, Din.”

The boy nods, solemn as usual but now with obvious relief in his dark eyes. Much like the relief on Corin’s face as he smiles up at her. “We’re staying?”

“We’re staying.” Dulsissia combs his hair back with her hands. “Mommy was just being silly.”

And while there is a tiny ball of anxiousness in the pit of her stomach, Dulsissia takes one glance over at Davarax, who gives her a faint nod and she feels her strength and courage return.

She’s not alone. Not any more.

Hiccuping with relief, Corin dares to lets go of her, but just as he’s about to take a step away to rejoin the other children, he hesitates and looks back at her. And while it is so very, very tempting to just wrap her arms around him and hold on tight, the fear of losing him still so vivid in her mind, Dulsissia gives him a nudge.

Corin hesitates once more and then heads over to the other children, who include him like one of them. And that is what he is now, isn’t he? Dulsissia can’t let Macero take that away from him.

She’d panicked up in the city. She can’t afford to panic. Macero is a cold strategist, so she’ll have to become one too.

If he thinks he can take Corin away from her and have her back as the obedient little wife, he’s got a rude awakening coming to him.

A bit like the one Dulsissia gets the next day after walking Corin to training. (It’s difficult to go back to the room instead of hovering in case a battalion of storm troopers appear.) Something vicious snarls behind her just as she’s about to press the button to open the door.

Jumping around with a startled sound, Dulsissia fumbles for the blaster that isn’t in the lining of her pants because she didn’t bring it because she thought she was safe inside the Covert because she’s an idiot and… Oh.

Dulsissia puts on a careful smile and tries to pretend her heart didn’t just jump up into her throat. “Aren’t you supposed to be training with the others?”

Glaring at her with murderous intent through the crazy mane of curly hair, Raga makes another growl. The little girl is just standing there, her hands curled into tight fists and her skinny frame radiates waves of anger so strong it’s a miracle she’s not hovering over the floor.

Clearing her throat, Dulsissia crouches down. “Is there something wrong, Raga?”

At first it doesn’t look like she’s going to say anything, not even a growl, but suddenly the girl shouts at her. “Paz is MY friend, not yours! You don’t get to take him away! He’s mine!”

Dulsissia’s eyebrows makes a valiant effort to reach her hairline. Oh dear. Okay, time for some careful diplomacy here. Like Davarax does. “Raga, sweetie, I’m not trying to take Paz away from you. I promise. And he will never stop being your friend. He cares about you very much.”

The furious eyes flicker a little and Raga’s lower lip trembles a little. “But you’re pretty!” It’s an accusation, not a compliment. “Davarax thinks so too. He watches you all the time. But you don’t get to take Paz away!”

Sighing, Dulsissia tilts her head a little. “Sweetie…” She considers her options and straightens back up. “Why don’t you come in and we can talk a little.”

Raga instantly tenses up with another snarl. Her little shoulders draw up and her feet move into a stance where she can attack or bolt into retreat.

Dulsissia presses the button and the door opens. “You can have some cookies.”

Raga’s shoulders relaxes. “Okay.” And she trudges inside.

Dulsissia wants to help the girl settle on the chair, but a warning snarl makes her keep her hands to herself and she gets a plate of cookies to put on the table.

The girl grabs a handful and shoves them into her mouth, chewing noisily and not very ladylike.

Feeling like she’s defusing a bomb, Dulsissia tries to find some clever way to approach the subject. “I’m not going to take Paz away from you, Raga. I just want to be his friend. And yours.”

She gets an angry eye scowling at her through the mess of curls for her effort.

This is not going to be easy. But surely there must be some way to reach the girl. Something they have in common. Dulsissia makes another effort at a smile and gestures towards her. “You have such lovely hair.”

Raga pauses in her chewing, scans her warily before she mutters; “My mom wants me to cut it. I don’t want to.”

“Then you shouldn’t.” Dulsissia agrees.

Shrugging, Raga plucks at the edge of the table. “It’s not pretty. Like yours.”

“You have beautiful hair.” Dulsissia objects, daring to take a step closer. “I wish I had curls like you.”

That gets her another wary glance, but there is cautious curiosity instead of open hostility now. Raga sits up a little straighter. “Have to cut it when I put the helmet on…”

“Nonsense.” Dulsissia scoffs, gesticulating towards the wild hair. “With some braids, that shouldn’t be a problem.”

Now Raga is actually paying attention and the anger seems forgotten. “Really?” She frowns. “How?”

Dulsissia shrugs. “I could show you…?”

Raga’s eyes narrow for a second or two, then she gives a cautious nod.

It takes a long time untangling the crazy hair, not because it’s awfully tangled or Raga complains, but because Dulsissia is overly cautious about tugging her with the brush and enjoys doing something she actually have the skills to do. A lovely side-effect is how Raga sags more and more in the chair and almost falls asleep under the gentle treatment. There’s not a single growl.

Braiding most of the hair back from the very top to bottom in a simple but lovely pattern, once again taking her time, Dulsissia lets some hair hang free to frame Raga’s face so she can hide if she wants to, but the rest of her thick mane is now held back from obscuring her vision. That should make it easier for her to fight. She steps into the refresher and grabs a mirror so she can show Raga the final result.

“Look at that.” Dulsissia says, feeling no small amount of pride that Raga had trusted her enough to allow this. “Practical, yes? And you look so beautiful.”

Raga struggles against a tiny smile. “Do not.”

“You do.” Dulsissia reaches out and adjusts the braid a little with feigned nonchalance. “And just you wait until Paz sees this. He’s going to be so amazed. You look like such a warrior queen. The Mandalorian who can kick butt ‘and’ have long hair. I bet he’s never seen that before.”

Raga puts the mirror on the table and ducks her head down, now as flustered as the aforementioned Paz had become when Dulsissia kissed his cheek. “M’not pretty.” She mumbles, but she is smiling.

“You are ‘beautiful’.” Dulsissia insists. “Come. Let’s go show the others.” It’s about time she picked up Corin so why not show off her accomplishment too?

She just isn’t prepared for her heart absolutely shattering the moment they step into the hallway and begin to make their way towards the training room and Dulsissia feels Raga’s hand reach over and take a hold of hers.

And luckily, after seeing how excited the girl was to show off her braid, Dulsissia’s predictions were completely accurate. Not only Paz stops what he’s doing, but the three other boys too, and they all flock around her to admire and try to figure out how the braid was made.

“You got to teach me how to do that.” Paz declares, mesmerized.

“I’ll think about it.” Raga snootily replies, slapping Din’s hand away from her hair.

Dulsissia has to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Which is when Davarax sidles up next to her by the doorway where she’s watching the kids.

“Okay,” he says, “show me your hands. Hold them up and let me see them.”

A little confused but mostly amused, Dulsissia holds up her hands and looks over at him. “Why?”

“Because I want to see how many fingers she bit off before you managed to subdue her.” Davarax says, nodding towards Raga.

Laughing and giving him a smack to the stomach, which doesn’t cause him to flinch at all, it’s like slapping a wall, Dulsissia turns her attention back to Raga and feels an intense joy in seeing the smile still on her face. “She’s a sweet girl.”

“Yeah, she is.” Davarax agrees, with no small amount of affection. “But she doesn’t give her trust to just anyone. People have to work for her trust and most adults take offence to that in a child.”

Dulsissia forgets to breathe when he tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear and this time lets his gloved finger trail down the side of her neck as well before his hand just rests on her shoulder.

“If you keep this up, you’re going to end up with every single one of them falling in love with you.” He murmurs.

Dulsissia dares to glance over at him and sees her reflection in his t-visor. Her heart is suddenly racing again but this time not from fear. “I think… I would like that.”

“Yeah?” Davarax asks, his voice low and soft and only meant for her ears. “You wouldn’t mind a big family? Even if they came with their… issues. And were a lot of work.”

“I can’t think of anything I’d want more.” She replies, her voice a little shaky but she means it. “A big family, all that love, why wouldn’t I want that?”

Davarax lets out a soft exhale and he stretches out his finger again, trails it along the collar of her shirt. “I’m starting to think that maybe ‘you’ are a little too good to be true.”

Dulsissia lower her eyelashes and tries for a sneaky smile despite how she can feel her face burning. “Trust me. I’m not ‘that’ good.”

His finger pauses on her skin.

In that moment, it’s like it is just the two of them on the entire planet, but of course that isn’t true and they are sent crashing back to reality at the sound of running feet and Corin’s voice;

“Mommy, can you braid my hair too?”

Davarax yanks his hand away and she turns to her son with a faint laugh. “I’m sorry, baby. I think you may have to grow your hair out a bit for that.”

No storm troopers flood into Nevarro, kicking down doors while looking for her and Corrin. The trooper she had seen must have been from the military base without any connection to Macero. Dulsissia wants to believe she’s safe, but the experience has left her skittish and reluctant to head up into the city again.

At least she can’t cause trouble as long as she stays in the Covert, right? Wrong.

Clearly the training had gone on a little longer than usual because they’re still in the middle of things when Dulsissia enters the room to pick up her son. The sound of the door opening distracts the kids; Paz looks over just as he’s throwing a punch and Din looks over as he side-steps, but Din steps to the wrong side and Dulsissia watches with horror as the punch slams into Din’s face.

Davarax and the other children automatically move over to where Din is squirming on the floor and covering his face with both hands. Dulsissia runs over as well and she’s seeing blood by the time she’s halfway there.

“Easy, take it easy.” Davarax kneels down and helps Din sit up. “Let me see.”

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…” Paz makes a half-choked sound when Din lowers his trembling hands and reveals the blood gushing from his nose.

Dulsissia, knowing this was her fault, not his, slides her arm around Paz’ shoulders in a weak offer of comfort and support. He just stares at Din.

“It was an accident, Paz.” Davarax says, cupping Din’s face and gingerly prods the already swelling nose. He then lowers his hands with a sigh. “Yeah, it’s broken.”

Paz makes that sound again and Raga moves over to his other side and takes his hand in hers. Her eyes are big and solemn. Barthor is watching with a blank face. But Corin looks ready to pass out.

“You want me to do it or the medic?” Davarax asks Din.

“You.” Din replies, sounding like his sinuses are severely clogged.

Davarax nods, and if not for the situation being what it is; Dulsissia would have been shocked beyond words at the sight of Davarax pulling off his gloves and revealing his bare hands. Strong, confident hands. That move up to touch Din’s face again, focusing on his nose.

“Okay, you ready?” Davarax asks.

“’eah.” Din mumbles through the blood.

Before Dulsissia can really understand what is going on, Davarax does something, there is a disturbing crunch and then he lowers his hands again. “Done, but you’re going to need some ice on that. Up you go. Come on.”

“I didn’t mean to.” Paz offers a little helplessly. “I thought you were going to dodge. Otherwise I wouldn’t have… so hard…” He’s genuinely distressed. “You… you want to punch me?”

Getting up on shaky legs, once again assisted by Davarax, Din shakes his head with a faint smile. “Stob. S’find. Aggsidendt. Mby fauht too.”

Paz steps forward and reaches out to take a hold of his arm, clearly worried Din will just flop over again. “Ice. We’re getting you ice. Okay. Ice. Yeah. Let’s go.”

Corin looks over at Dulsissia, despair in his eyes, clinging to Din’s other arm. “Mom?”

Dulsissia nods. “It’s okay, Corin. You go with him. Come back after, yeah?”

Paz and Corin hold Din between them, Raga marches ahead to clear a path, while Barthor trails slowly after them. He pauses by the door, looks back at Dulsissia with narrow eyes and then disappears along with the other kids.

Dulsissia looks over at Davarax picking up his gloves and how he wipes the blood off his hands on his clothes. There is that golden skin again. He must look gorgeous under that armor and yet all she can think about is... “That was my fault.”

Davarax shakes his head and there is an amused tone when he speaks. “That was not anybody’s fault. It was an accident. Accidents happen.” The t-visor turns towards her. “They got distracted by the door, true, but do you think the fights out there, in the real world, is contained to quiet rooms with Do Not Disturb signs? No. They need to learn to ignore distractions or pay the price. I don’t think those two boys will make that mistake again, do you?”

Probably not. And it might be lesson that could save their lives later. But still doesn’t feel nice.

Dulsissia distracts herself by looking at Davarax’ hands again. The gloves look worn. “You need new gloves.”

Davarax studies his gloves and shrugs. “They’re good for a little while longer.”

“Would it be better if I got you some new gloves?” She asks.

Davarax lowers his hands and tilts his head a little. “Better? Better than what?”

“When you gave me that blaster, I didn’t understand what that meant.” Dulsissia says. “I realize now that bringing you some stupid cookies wasn’t… right. But I’m not sure if gloves are right either. I mean, Decco said weapons or armor. Do gloves count as armor?”

“What? No. Nono.” Davarax takes a step closer. “The cookies weren’t stupid. Or wrong. I’ve gotten weapons and armor before, but never cookies. Cookies that you made. That was… I liked it.”

Stupidly flattered, Dulsissia lowers her gaze and tries to not act like a twelve year old girl. “So, that’s a ‘no’ on the gloves?”

Davarax leans close and murmurs; “I prefer the cookies.” before he walks over to clean up the blood.

At first she thinks it is just coincidence and bad luck, but on the second day when door after door in the Covert refuses to open for her and no one else is having this problem, Dulsissia starts to wonder if it is something more.

That is confirmed on the day when she steps inside and finds her room filled with countless hairy bugs scuttling over the floor and walls and even the ceiling.

Her screams didn’t just bring Davarax running to the rescue, but also half of the Covert; thinking they were under attack by something horrible.

After that incident, she has little doubt as to who is the evil mastermind behind her recent misfortune. There is only one who could do stuff like this and get away with it.

Knocking on the door, Dulsissia puts on a polite smile and when it opens, she asks the person there; “May I speak with Barthor, please?”

The Mandalorian sighs and leans against the door frame. “What’s that boy done now?” There is dry irritation and resentment in that voice. And for some reason, that annoys Dulsissia.

“Nothing.” She chirps. “I brought him some sweets.” Dulsissia holds up the small packet with sweets she’d brought as bribery. “He’s a friend of my son. In Davarax’ group.”

The Mandalorian straightens and shakes their head with a sigh. “Whatever. He’s in his room.”

They point towards a door and walks off.

Dulsissia scowls at their back. No wonder the boy is pulling pranks to get attention.

Knocking on the door and then pushing the button to open it, Dulsissia steps into what is a small but extremely tidy room.

Barthor is sitting on his bed, reading, and the second he sees her; he jumps off the bed to land on the other side and just about cowers there. “You can’t prove anything!”

“Oh, I am aware of that.” Dulsissia says. “Davarax said you were incredibly clever, so I know you know how to cover your tracks. I’m not here to get you into trouble.”

He peers suspiciously at her. “Why are you here?”

“May I sit?” She points at the bed as there are no chairs or any other option in the room. When he just keeps glaring at her, Dulsissia sits down on the bed anyway and starts opening the packet. “I’m here because I wanted to talk to you. I’m hoping we can be friends.”

“Friends.” Barthor sneers, still in hiding. “You don’t want to be my friend.”

“I do.” Dulsissia says, putting a sweet in her mouth before holding the box out towards him and offering him some. She suspects he’d never eat anything he didn’t see her eat first after what he’s done to her. And after a little scowling, he reaches out and takes a sweet. “I just need to know why you’re so angry with me. Did I do something to upset you, Barthor? Do you mind telling me what that was?”

Barthor keeps glaring at her, but she can see the clever mind working and looking for whatever motive she has for doing this. Eventually he straightens up and goes from scowling to defiant glaring. “I don’t want you to take Davarax away.”

Dulsissia shakes her head. “I’m not taking him away.”

“Yes, you are.” Barthor states, calm but definitely angry. “In the past, I could always go to him if I had questions or needed help.”

“You can still do that.” Dulsissia claims.

“When I needed his help on my project, guess where he was.” Barthor dares her.

She shakes her head, having no clue.

“He was out picking flowers.” Barthor throws his arms out in clear disbelief. “Flowers! Stupid, pointless flowers.” He sets his angry glare in her again. “And I’ve seen the way he looks at you and you look at him. You’re not even a Mandalorian!”

Dulsissia swallows down the urge to snap back at the boy. “Here’s the thing, Barthor; Davarax has the right to have a personal life too. He lives and breathes for you children, he really does, but he also likes me. And I like him. That’s not going to stop just because you are mean to me. You know that. The only thing you can achieve is make me upset and disappoint Davarax, and I doubt the latter is something you want.”

For the first time, Barthor lowers his gaze. His shoulders slump slightly.

“How about a deal?” Dulsissia suggests.

The boy looks up at her again.

“How about, instead of you being mean and me supposedly taking Davarax away, we become friends and we all spend time together?”

Barthor scoffs with so much scorn and conviction it hurts. “You’re just saying that. You don’t want to spend time with me. No one does.”

Dulsissia purses her lips thoughtfully. Challenge accepted.

Davarax looks a little confused when she shows up that evening at his door and hands him a written invitation to dinner the next day. He looks at the card and then her and shifts a little uneasily. “I, uh, would love to, but…”

“Oh, I know you can’t actually eat,” Dulsissia waves a dismissive hand at him, “I just need you to be there.”

Davarax looks at the card again and gives a slow nod. “O-kay….?”

“Excellent!” And with that, she darts back to her own room. She’d handed cards to Corin and Din to deliver at Paz’, Raga’s and Barthor’s residences too.

There’s not much Dulsissia Motti knows how to do, but she knows how to throw a dinner!

The resources are limited, the dining area even more so, but Dulsissia makes the best out of it and she has two excellent helpers in Corin and Din.

Poor Din, with his still colourful and sore nose, spends more time at her place than he does his own home and Dulsissia has grown quite used to having the quiet boy underfoot by now. He doesn’t say much, but he doesn’t mind hard work and he hasn’t run off with Corin again.

When the day comes, Dulsissia is a bit nervous, which is hilarious. She has thrown dinners and parties for men who ruled half of the Galaxy and she never broke a sweat doing so, but these children and that man, their approval means everything to her.

The first of the other children to arrive is Paz. He’s early and hangs out in the kitchen with her, interfering with her cooking until she slaps him over the fingers and he instructs her to avoid certain spices (Barthor is allergic.), not to place those vegetables on Raga’s plate (She doesn’t like them.), and that Din loves an obscene amount of salt on his food. (The weirdo.) Dulsissia tries to ask him if he doesn’t rather want to play with Corin and Din, but Paz shakes his head and inspects the boiling pot like a security guard.

However, when Raga stomps into the room, she drags Paz away and they huddle together next to the other two to talk quietly while Dulsissia sets the table.

Usually Corin and Din help her with this, but today she has informed them they are all entirely off kitchen duty.

Today is her gift to all of them.

Davarax is next to appear and he is visibly surprised when he steps into the room and the children all jump up to run over and greet him. Handing out hair ruffles and playful nudges, Davarax sneaks a glance over at her as Dulsissia puts some flowers on the dining table. She gives him a smile.

(Dulsissia has had to rearrange the room, pushing the beds over to one side, borrow a table and chairs, but they will all fit at least.)

Davarax also offers to help her, but she gives him firm orders to go play with the children.

(She does not blush at his faint snort of laughter or the brief touch of his hand to her hip. Nope. Okay, maybe a little.)

When the food is ready and on the table, on time, Dulsissia takes her seat and watches the others choose their own seating. On her right sits Davarax, on her left is Corin and next to him, Din. At the opposite side of the table of Din, there sits Raga, who of course has Paz next to her. But the chair next to him is empty.

Dulsissia feels a tiny stab of disappointment.

She’d known there was no guarantee that Barthor would show up but she’d hoped…

“Okay, everyone,” Dulsissia chirps, determined to make the meal memorable for the others at least, vowing to find some other way to convince Barthor he is welcome, “let’s-”

There is a knock on the door.

Davarax gets up and walks over to open it.

It’s Barthor. He looks tense and wary, but Davarax pretends not to notice and merely ushers him inside. “We were waiting for you. Come on. There’s your seat. Hop to it.”

Dulsissia can’t stop smiling. She beams at Barthor, who greets her with a tiny nod, no scowling, and finally things feel right. Everyone is there.

The children chatter, bicker and eat. Corin laughs at something Din said to Paz.

Paz, who completely ignores the fact that Raga is eating off his plate and merely reaches over to slap Barthor’s shoulder to inform him that he’ll make him run twenty laps during training tomorrow if he doesn’t make a stink-bomb that Paz can plant under Din’s bed.

“No stink-bombs.” Davarax orders, pointing from Barthor to Paz and back again.

Barthor shrugs and focuses on his food. “I wouldn’t know how to make one anyway.” But the smile on his face says otherwise and Paz cackles with glee.

Davarax tells tales from his travels and answers their questions with never-ending patience as usual. Dulsissia makes sure everyone is tended to, takes care to talk to each of them, delights in watching them squirm under compliments as well as some gentle teasing. Even Barthor.

It’s perfect.

This… This is what Dulsissia has always been missing in her own life.

This is what she had been craving, even as a little girl and had no idea what she was aching for while she was surrounded by endless wealth and loneliness. This is what she thought she could have when she got married and didn’t. This is what she wants for her son.

Yeah, this definitely feels right.

This feels like… family.

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #Dulsissia Motti #Davarax #Baby Corin #Fearsome Four #Mandorin AU

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ushiwakaout · 3 years

Note

Could I request headcanons on how Todoroki, Bakugo, Midoriya and Kirishima (you don't have to do all of them!) would react to their S/O flinching away from them during an arguement, like they're scared they are gonna hurt them or something? Thanks!

I GOTTA SAY THIS: I LOVE YOUR WRITING SO MUCH AND AS AN ASPIRING WRITER IT MAKES ME VERY HAPPY TO READ YOUR WORKS! HAVE A LOVELY DAY!!!

Todoroki would probably hate himself.

It’s not common (like at all) that you two have argument. He hated raising his voice at you but you insisted in having this conversation that now became an argument. You kept telling him that maybe his father was willing to change, maybe it’s better to forget the past- and that’s when he snap. Vivid memories of his abuse clouded his judgement when he yelled at you, telling you about his abuse. Yelling at you about how you know nothing about the number one pro hero. But when he realized it, he backed you onto your desk as you knuckles grew while from how tight you’ve been holding the desk, with a slight tinge of fear in your eyes. When he went up to reach for your, he noticed the sudden flinch. Todoroki begins to back up, realizing what he had just done. “I... I’m sorry...” His voice is back to its quiet nature. His hands are lightly shaking as he looks at the floor. You can tell he regrets raising his voice. “Sho... Hey- Look at me?” Your now standing in front of him, with your fingertips under his chin. “I know what your thinking... You’re not becoming your father, Sho.” He shakes his head, “I scared you...” He muttered, “I saw it, in your eyes. You where scared.” You sigh and take his hands in yours, hesitating before speaking. “I- I want you to tell me what happened, I want to be there for you... I know you would never hurt me.” A soft smile crept on Todorokis lips when you tucked a strand of his white hair behind his ear. “Can we lay down please.” You nodded and let him lay on the bed, opening his arms to pull you in tight.

Bakugo would definitely rethink his whole life decisions.

He never noticed it until now, but whenever you’re around him you have the tendency to flinch. It was a normal day at school, when he saw you where the first person at their table and he decides to walk up to you. Reaching to pet your head, is when you flinched, and he hesitated to lay his hand on you. You opened up an eye to see why the impact hadn’t come yet, but his hand just drops to his side and he sits by you, not saying a word. You don’t really question it but it worries you just a little. So when it comes to having alone time he’s on the opposite side of the room doing his work and you’re getting lonely. He hand held your hand or touched you ever since lunch and you’re becoming bakugo deprived. You pull his chair backwards and he looks at you a little surprise when you begin to crawl into his lap, your chest facing his. “Hold me...” You whimper to him while wrapping your arms behind his neck. “I never want you to do that again... I missed you.” Bakugo wrapped his arms around you and began to caress your back, “I’m right here, we’ve been together all day.” He tells you in a roll of the eyes tone. “No- I mean... you didn’t even hold my hand today... or give me a head pat... Are you going to break up with me?” A small sniffle interrupts you mid sentence and Bakugo took noticed, he pulled you away to see you water filled eyes and his heart broke. He didn’t touch you today because he thought he would hurt you, but it seems like he ended up doing that anyways. “No! N-no you idiot.... I just-” He pulled you back into his arms, “I don’t want you to think that i’d ever hurt you intentionally... I’m- sorry i’m rough around the edges.” He hold you in his arms for a long time before he even dares to let go.

Midoriya, oh boy... He would think himself unworthy of you.

Considerably, you never had an argument with Izuku. Never. But today, now as Third years, you found yourself ignoring your boyfriend. It made the whole classroom tense up and Aizawa had enough of it. “You two-” He pointed at Izuku and then you, “Out of my classroom and resolve your problems.” The two of you hesitated before getting up, “Now!” The teacher yelled, before the two of you went walking out of the classroom. While the two of you stood in the empty hallway, Izuku decided to speak up first. “You’re going to get yourself killed.” He said, making you roll your eyes. “Look who’s talking...” You mutter. “What you did on that mission was reckless!” You scoffed. “Me? Being reckless? I saved your life!” Your voice began to echo through the hall as your index finger poked at his chest. “Save my life? All you did was get in the way!” It shocked you to hear him say that. “If it weren’t for me, you’d be in the fucking hospital! Don’t you understand that i’m trying to fucking help here?! You can’t do everything alone Izuku!” He took a step forward, “Then maybe I should!” Goosebumps ran down your spine, was this really how it was going to end. “Oh yeah? And then what? Run to Toshinoris grave and ask his for advi-” He didn’t let you finish your sentice when he grabes your arms and pushed you against the wall, causing you to whimper in pain. It wasn’t unusual that Izuku forgot how strong he really was. “Don’t...” He muttered, squeezing you arms thighter “ ‘Zuku you’re-” He cut you off “Why would you say that, you know he’s been there for me more than anyone has and-” “MIDORIYA YOU’RE HURTING ME!” Izuku immediately let go, it’s been two years since you’ve used his formal name. He watched as you winced at the feeling of moving your arm, “I’m sorry-” He reached for your arm and you flinched back against the wall slapping his hand away, “I- um.. I’m fine, just.... I’m going to the nurses...” You walked ahead of him quickly and stuffed in a cry into the palm of your hand. Izuku just stood back and watched as you walked away. Maybe this time he shouldn’t reach out for you, maybe this way you won’t get hurt.

Kirishima, oh man... He’d probably find a way to better himself for you.

After he’s had a hard day, the last thing he expects when he comes back from the dorm is you messing around with Sero. Not like cheating but, playing around in the kitchen since both of you had kitchen duty. He saw the way both of you got along so when and you didn’t even notice him when he came in. He’s just standing mid hallway and Sero notices him first. “Oh, hey man! How was training?” You turn around and give him a bright smile, you don’t say anything but run up to him and hug him but he doesn’t hug back, he’s stiff and gives you a sad smile, muttering that he’s tired and that he’ll just leave you two alone. It’s a little confusing at first when he isn’t his smiley self but you shrug is off, everyone has their bad days- even Kirishima. You look at Sero and he mouths something but you shrug at him and continue to do the cooking. A few second later, it begins to pick at you- luckily Bakugo passed by and you pulled at his wrist. “Finish this up for me yeah, Kirishima’s acting weird and I wanna check up on him.” Bakugo begins to for a sentence and you point the knife at him from afar and smile sweetly. “I’m not asking, now take the knife.” You turns the knife on it’s handle and put it in his hands before you walk away. When you reach his door, you knock but there is no response. “Kiri... can I come in?” You hear a faint sure and you walk in. The second you walk in and close the door, he sit up on his bed and buries his head in his hands. “I think we should break up...” He says, when you take a few steps closer to him. You freeze, “W-what? Why would you say that?” He doesn’t answer and you take a few steps closer to reach out for his shoulder but he just ends up slapping it away, “You heard me, y/n... Just get out.”

“Kiri- come on let’s just talk about it-”

“Just get out!” He notices the way you flinch at his voice. “Hey, can we talk about this please, I- I don’t understand... Everything is going great, right? Why do you wanna break up?” Kirishima shook his head and sighed. “I’m not good enough for you Y/n... I’m never going to manly enough for you, I just need time to become enough for you.” Your breath got caught in your throat, and ran to tackle him onto his bed. “YOU’RE ENOUGH! OF COURSE YOUR ENOUGH! Don’t be dumb baby... Why would you ever think that?” Kirishima wrapped his arms around your waist, “You just looked so happy with Sero... I though it would be better this way.” You bonked Kirishima’s spiky hair and he giggled into you r neck. “I promise I’ll try to be better...”

A/N: I def side tracked while writing these- I am so sorry. Hopefully you liked this!

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tiens-letters · 3 years

Text

upon autumns day, where you and I met. upon autumns day where I remember all of what we were before youve passed. and upon autumns day would I have ever so slowly let go of that pain of the past

zhongli (angst)

@albeidoof its somewhere here hehehe

Time was a luxury. A treasure each and everything holds.

Yet time is a curse as well. It covets, devours and leaves. which humanity neglects to cherish until the heart ceases its steady rythmn, only then do they regret of the wasted minutes, hours and seconds.

Beneath the flow of the rushing waves of things that have come and gone. Only on this particular day would he sit beneath a certain tree. The rough bark brushing up against his back as leaves fell effortlessly to the ground, as if it were ready to let go of from the branches that gave birth to it, only to return once again to the waiting soil.

It was a sunny afternoon, clear of any clouds and only clear unblemished blue, a good time to enjoy a warm cup of tea yet there was no energy in his bones to even move from where he was.

He felt exhausted. Desultory even.

Gone were the halcyon days of the past, and now the present time of the vivid reality he had to face.

Morax, rex lapis, the geo archon. Names that weighted more than one could carry, memories that shackled his soul that lived for a thousand years on end, all but a stain that could never be washed away.

The breeze slowly danced in, playing with his hair softly, kissing his skin and welcoming him. It carried a hint of aromatic essence only he would know belongs to.

You.

He tried to desperately recount the days after youve left the face of the earth and yet he could not remember or did his mind not allow him to as if he did, it would bring him terrible and heavy consequences for an answer, one sane mind would never want to know.

Sighing, he sat back and recalled back the memories of you instead. When you were alive, warm and breathing in his arms. He remembers the way your eyes would shine brightly whenever he would be around, or the small sound of delight you would make when you have finished another one of the many interesting blends of tea youve done over the course of a week of mixing different flowers and tea leaves. Youve made up quite the fortune with this as your little hobby bloomed into a fully run business known across teyvat.

"Zhongli." he froze, youve never called him by his name ever since youve started getting close, it made him feal uneasy as he turned to look at you who stood by the doorway, a neutral look on your face.

"y-yes?" nervousness clawed at him as he racked his brain to what he couldve done for you to call his name like that, he couldnt think of any.

"I came back from the market and I heard youve made quite the generous payment. Why is that, I wonder?" he's done it again, that spending habit of his

"The price was reasonable for such a fine ceramic tea set, I dont seem to find why it shouldnt reflect its quality?" you sighed as you pointed towards the glass cupboard behind him

"You bought the same exact set a week ago, Zhongli. Thats why." having to realize his mistake after looking over the two identical set that on the shelf, he turned to apologize but only to see you missing from the doorway. Footsteps can be heard from the floorboards above him. You were upset.

After minutes of pacing in the living room, he finally mustered the courage to climb the stairs and enter your shared bedroom. A figure already under the sheets as the warm glow of the lamp illuminated your delicate features. The mattress sunk as he sat beside you, fingers brushing away the stray hair that fell on your face.

"Im still mad at you Zhongli." his hand flinched slightly at the way you called him

"I apologize. I seem to not have learned my lesson again. I would gladly return the set tomorrow."

"Its no use, they dont accept refunds." you replied without sparing a glance at him

"What can I do for you to forgive me then?"

"Just go to sleep, Zhongli." groaning you reached for the switch to shut the lamp off but a gentle grip stopped you, forcing you to look at his gloomy expression. Perhaps you went too far this time.

"Please stop calling me in that way. I dont like it." he whispers, drawing your palm to his lips, leaving small kisses upon it. He sure does know his way around your heart, no wonder why you could not stay mad at him.

"Just be mindful next time." you cursed yourself for being weak to his charms.

"I will." yet something was missing "Then can you call me as you did before?"

"Zhongli?" you could see the slight grimace in his face as you teased him

"Stop it." he kissed you without warning "Call me as you did before."

However, his lips didnt stop as they began to travel. From your cheeks to you forehead and then to your neck. Oh dear, he wasnt having any of your teasing.

"A-li." you giggled beneath him as he finally stopped and met your gaze

"Thats better."

He still remembers the faint smile that graced your lips whenever he would wake up next to you tangled in the same sheets. The softness of your skin on his calloused touch. Your lips melting his and your voice lulling his raging mind to peace.

Then everything changed when you drew blood that spilled from those lips he's kissed for a thousand times, painting a morbid image on the sheets. Anger and despair boiled inside of him once he learned of the secret youve kept. Zhongli was a calm and collected man all of the time except when he was with you.

Having to witness him at such a point felt as if his own spear was being driven right through his very chest. He held you in an arms width away, the panic and pain in his eyes increasing over the minute as he begged for you to explain why youve decided to lie about the flowers that bloomed in your lungs, the sickness youve inherited from your deceased mother, whose fate you soon would follow. You didnt want him to find out, not in this way.

He couldve done anything if he knew from the start but alas, you wanted to be cruel, thinking it was for the best. Until your symptoms persisted, a heavy reminder of the remaining distance of the string you have to walk on to reach the end. The heavy feeling in your chest started to worsen as cherry sweet liquid poured from your mouth.

Soon the once pristine sheets were stained in haunting crimson shades as you heaved and he watched in agony. If only he had the ability of what he once had back then, if only he could plant the seeds of the flowers from yours to his then he would, if only he hadnt met you one autumn evening

" please dont look at me like that. " you told him, cold hands caressing his cheeks, catching the streams of salty warm beads that fell freely from your darling's amber eyes.

"Im sorry. Im so sorry..." the last thing you wanted to see was this man to cry. The last thing you wanted to see was to see him relive the past tragic memories you promised to bring him out of

" my disease has nothing to do with you. In the end it was mine alone to handle. oh, you are far from that so please dont you ever blame yourself."

"How can I not? If I havent fallen so deep then you would experienced so much more in life, you couldve been happier if you met someone else. Yet you chose me and I couldnt give you anything, I--. " the words knotted up as he began to shake, hands holding yours as knuckles turned to white

You slapped him.

With all the strength youve gathered in that fading body of yours. The sound cutting the grieving sounds that spilled from him, soul and flesh alike.

"A-li, look at me. Do I look like someone whose unsatisfied with what youve given me? Did my smile ever fade when Im with you? Did your affections ever lack? Answer me." his watery gaze met yours, a torrent of emotions swimming in them

"No. Never." a soft smile was carved unto your lips

"My dear, youve given me all Ive ever wanted in this life and I regret nothing of it."

To him, you were the flower that bloomed at the highest peak of the mountain he's never reached and yet its petals voluntarily detached and fell down, making him the happiest as one thing he's admired was untouchable and now, lay softly in the palm of his hands. To cherish and to protect.

But of course, all things are evanescent.

The familiar feeling of soreness that wasnt supposed to be there rose, ebbed and flowed through his throat. He knew it all too well, it was after he woke from his week long slumber did he feel it along with what his ancient beating heart felt.

"You collapsed." the worried words of the qixing echoed in his head. He frantically got up but as soon as his feet touched the floor did his legs give out underneath him, what use was he in this sorry state. He was helped up and sat back on the edge of the bed.

He wanted to ask many things yet was unable to.

Ningguang spoke as if you were still breathing and was visiting her minutes ago with another one of your tea blends. "Dont worry and rest first, go to jueyun karst after. They will be waiting."

To where the adepti resides, who as well, favored you, that one soul among thousands of others. One to which they shared a few good memories with was allowed to slumber there in peace.

Zhongli found himself waking up to the sun setting in the horizon. Just like how youve gone and resurfaced back into his memories. It was time.

He stood up from where he sat, gloved hands brushing any dirt that clung to him as he made his way to where you slept.

The red bean that was planted by himself still remained, a token of his love for you. Picking one bead and placing it inside the hollow dice he brought along, completing another one of the similar handicraft he's made every visit.

The sun finally died and the moon began its reign. The small wisps of light gathered around before him, forming a blurry image.

It was then he felt at ease, he saw you smiling at him with all there is in the world. Your light seemed to dim a little, hinting the blessing the adepti gave was slowly diminishing. Soon your visits would cease and you were sure that by the end of the power spent, he wouldve let go of the torment that plagued him.

"A-li. Have you been well?" he knew what you meant

"Im letting go slowly my dear. Perhaps in time, I would learn breathe easily once again."

Longest yet lol. Hope yall liked it ehehe

#genshin impact #genshin impact angst #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhonglixreader #genshin impact drabbles #zhongli angst #morax

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ace-of-spaders · 3 years

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@my-robot-heart once upon a time sent me a prompt "I'm here. I never left." for Lizzington.

It was the kind of prompt I fell in love with from first glance but couldn't decide which direction to take right away, so I left it for a while.

I must admit, I'm rather glad that I did, because the idea I eventually went with came to me only after the season finale (because, like everyone else, I had to fix it somehow), but I'm also sorry, Robot, that it took me so long and can only hope that the end product is worth the waiting)

That is, considering your attitude towards the 8x22, I feel it's fair to warn you that this ficlet is set post-8x22 and is angsty - because Red is suffering and Liz is suffering because Red is suffering - but also hopeful because, guess what, Liz lives, so I really hope you'll like it!

(Also, it was supposed to be just a tiny ficlet but my fingers slipped... a lot, so it's now 2,000 words long))

Last but not the least, I think I need to tag @thetwistedargent, too, because her ghost!Lizzie stories low-key inspired this one. Even though I'm not brave nor strong enough to write dead!Lizzy.

Well, now enough with my rambling and on with the ficlet itself, I guess?)

---

She comes to him every night. Wearing loose sweaters that don’t constrict her chest, Liz slips past Dembe and into Red’s bedroom and invariably scrunches her nose up from the suffocating smell of cigar smoke that hangs heavily in the air.

Red hasn’t left his room in days – ever since Dembe brought him home on that fateful night he lost ( or thought he lost ) the meaning of his life in the form of his beloved Lizzy – wallowing in his grief, choking on his own guilt more than the smoke of cigars he smokes more than ever these days and drowning ( or, at least, trying to drown ) his sorrow in immeasurable quantities of alcohol. Liz is acutely aware of this newly established routine of his and what it does to his health and wishes with all her heart she could do something more about it other than visit him nightly while he sleeps, wishes she could reassure him that she’s alive and well and he doesn’t have to mourn her. But she can’t, not yet. So she crosses the room to the window and opens it wide in ultimately vain attempts to chase the choking odor of cigar smoke away. Taking a deep breath of fresh air to try and quell the storm of emotions raging inside of her, Liz turns her gaze to the loaded gun lying discarded on the desk ( she knows that Dembe tried to take that gun away from Red out of fear he might do something… unreasonable in his grief but Red didn’t let him, speaking up for the first time in quite a while just to reassure his old friend that he doesn’t have any intention of ending his own life… it will end soon enough anyway, even without such act of cowardice ) and runs her hand over the cool metal, feeling her heart clench at the thought of how apathetic, how utterly hopeless Red has become in – because of – her absence. Then, her gaze usually shifts towards the always empty decanter of whiskey, which – she knows – is refilled a couple of times a day by Reddington, the equally empty glass discarded on his nightstand, and only then she finally turns to look at the man himself. He looks awful, to put it mildly, worse with each passing day. The clothes he sleeps in don’t quite fit him in the same snug way they used to, reminding Liz of the fact that it takes a lot of convincing on Dembe’s part ( that man must truly be a saint ) to make him eat every single day and that he does so without any enthusiasm or appetite and continues to waste away despite his old friend’s best efforts. Tears brim in her eyes as Liz moves towards the bed and carefully sits down on its very edge, her eyes roaming over Red’s slack face and taking note of the ever-growing stubble, the deepening dark circles under his eyes, the gauntness of his cheeks, and the sickly pallor of his skin. “Oh, Red,” she whispers hoarsely, unable to keep all the despair and helplessness she feels when she realizes that he’s dying without her and yet she can’t do much about it inside, and reaches out to cup his cheek with her warm palm, to trace the sharpened outline of his cheekbone with her thumb or stroke his head, the smile that stretches her lips at the feeling of his hair – now longer than usual – tickling her palm too wobbly and weak. Sometimes, he sleeps peacefully… or, rather, dreamlessly in his drunken beyond measure state, never once waking or even stirring, and on those rare occasions Liz just sits by his side, holding his hand or stroking his shoulder or head, till the first rays of sunlight come streaming through the window. Most of the nights, though, he suffers, thrashing around, tangling the sheets and throwing off blankets, panting and whimpering and crying, his mind tormenting him with vivid reconstructions of some of the worst moments of his life, and Liz hesitates, unsure of whether she should try to wake him or not, unsure of what he’s dreaming about… until her name – her seemingly long-forgotten nickname – spills from his lips and she knows exactly what he’s dreaming about. She doesn’t hesitate any longer. “Shh, Red, it’s alright,” she hushes him gently, leaning in close and settling her hands on his shoulders firmly but gently or cupping his cheeks with her warm, very much alive hands, “I’m here. I’m here, I never left.” Tears finally spill from her own eyes as Liz whispers quiet reassurances and sweet nothings to the suffering man, willing him to feel her

presence and wishing she could take the memories of that awful night away from him ( even though initially, she thought that it would be a good lesson for him, putting him in what could be her place if she pulled the trigger… but she didn’t think it would affect him that much, to the point where he isn’t really living anymore, just struggling to exist ), until she gets too choked up to speak… until Red jerks one more time under her hands and either finally settles into deep, exhausted, dreamless slumber with a heavy sigh ( in which case Liz picks the blankets he’s thrown off up from the floor, covers him with them again, tucking him in and making sure he’s warm and comfortable, and goes back to keeping her silent vigil, wiping her tears away and fighting the desire to climb into bed with him, wrap him up in her arms and never let go ) or wakes up. She always freezes when he does, when his eyes slowly open and he squints up at her in the dark, because she’s not sure how he’s going to react, even though his reaction is the same each and every time. He frowns up at her at first, his heavy with sleep and hazy from alcohol mind struggling to comprehend what is happening in front of him, but even though he doesn’t recognize her, even though in his eyes she might look like an intruder, he doesn’t even try to protect himself from any possible danger – as if he doesn’t care about what happens to him, if he lives to see another day or not – and Liz’s heart breaks at the thought. ( How did she manage to break him – the strongest man she’s ever known – so hard, so possibly irreparably? ) But then recognition dawns on his face and his lips part softly and he stares up at her with utter disbelief and very tentative hope, slowly reaching his hand up, as if in trance, to touch her cheek. She lets him, leaning slightly into his touch. “Lizzy,” Red breathes, so pained and intensely relieved at the same time that Liz hates herself for doing this to him in the first place and for not being able to go out of hiding ( but it’s not only her life that’s on the line, it’s also her daughter’s and, to a degree, his, so she has to wait out until her fame in the upper and under worlds quiets down ), to console him, to make him understand that she’s not just a figment of his imagination ( she learned pretty quickly that he doesn’t let himself even consider the possibility that she might be real and not just his hallucination or a surprisingly pleasant dream ) just yet, “Lizzy.” And every night when he wakes up to such a vivid, realistic image of his lost love, he begs her for forgiveness – for absolution – and kisses her hands, the scar on her wrist with such tangible, blatant devotion it makes her heart ache. And every night when he apologizes to her, she tells him that she’s already forgiven him for everything but never takes advantage of his fragile, weak, unguarded state to get the long overdue answers out of him ( after all, she had enough time on her hands while she recovered to understand that, at the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter who they were in the past… what matters is who they are now – Red and Lizzy – and that he loves her with as much ardor as she loves him ). They always end up in each other's arms, with Red pressing messy, fervent, desperate kisses to her cheeks and forehead and the soft cascade of her shiny mahogany hair and Liz rubbing his back in what she hopes is a soothing manner, their tears mixing and staining his shirt and her sweater. “Lizzy, Lizzy, Lizzy,” Red repeats in between kisses in his low, cracking from the lack of use voice, again and again and again, like a mantra, a prayer that sounds to her ears too much like Don't go, don't go, don't go... She knows she can't promise him that now. But she can promise to stay until the morning, which is why when he whispers softly, brokenly "Stay?" in her hair, his weight settling heavier against her after the emotional turmoil of the past few minutes? hours? – Liz doesn't know how much time they spend sitting there on his bed in the mess of tangled limbs,

the mix of apologies and reassurances and each other's names that sound for all the world like declarations of love, like I'm sorry and I miss you and I don't want to ever let you go spilling from their lips – leaves him even more exhausted than the pain and the grief of the day do, she simply nods and gently pushes him away and onto his back. Red doesn't take his eyes off her as she picks the blankets up and settles beside him and tucks the blankets around them both ( Liz is acutely aware of his gaze, burning with adoration and desperation in equal measure, on her back and the side of her face ). Even as she opens her arms for him in a silent invitation to move closer and he does just that, snuggling up to her side, resting his head on her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her waist tightly but not enough to hurt, he doesn't close his eyes. Liz can tell by the way he's breathing and his body goes practically rigid with tension that he's fighting the undeniably strong pull of sleep long after they've settled in for the night. That confused her on the first day but then she understood. He knows that in the morning she won't be there, that this illusion, hallucination, dream he's having will shatter once he closes his eyes and succumbs to exhaustion. And he doesn't want to lose her again. Not for the third, fourth, fifth, umpteenth time ( when she thinks about it, Liz is not even sure if her visits help him or hurt him more... but she can't stop, she can't go about her days without knowing first-hand how Red is doing ). So Liz does the only thing she can do to soothe him: she cups the back of his head, presses a light kiss to his forehead and lies. "Sleep, Red. I will be here when you wake up." "No, you won't," he whispers back flatly – just pointing out the obvious – with an undertone of finality that haunts her long after he obediently closes his eyes and his body finally relaxes in her arms. Because he's right: she always leaves long before he wakes up, giving Dembe a hug goodbye and asking him – rather unnecessarily but she can't help herself – to take care of Red, with only one thought keeping her going through the day: That one day – and hopefully, not in such a distant future – she will be there in the morning when Red wakes up.

#the blacklist #the blacklist fic #lizzington #lizzington fic #post-8x22 fix-it #my-robot-heart #thetwistedargent #I wrote this yesterday but wanted to edit a bit through mobile app so I saved your ask a draft #and Tumblr ate it (😤)#so I had to make a new post #but I fell asleep before I did it so I'm posting this today)

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mymelodyheart · 3 years

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Miles Between Us Chapter 6 ~A Wrinkle in Time~

Previously in The Tethered Ties ...

And when he finally glanced back down at the laptop, he nearly choked. Right there on the screen, peering up at him, was a cantankerous-looking, crocodile Dundee version of Harry. Same eyes, the same face, and though a handsome fellow, this man's skin looked weather-beaten, and he had a scary scowl on his face.

"Jamie," Claire giggled. "I'd like you to meet my uncle ...Quentin Lambert Beauchamp, also known as uncle Lamb."

Ah, holy fuck! Though uncle Lamb looked like Harry, Jamie knew this man was nothing like Harry. Harry was ...or had been a polite, refined and jolly ol' chap with a very posh accent. This man was far from the polished look Harry presented. This man looked like he'd seen the world and confronted danger and probably wrestled crocodiles as a hobby. Convincing uncle Lamb that he's good enough for Claire was not going to be a walk in a park. Jamie knew he had a long evening ahead as he gingerly sat down in front of Claire's laptop and braced himself.

Jamie cleared his throat and sat up straight. "Good evening, sir ..."

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

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Jamie had a dream. It was unlike any other dreams he had before.

He was cycling down a road, the cold wind stinging his cheeks, a plastic container of pastries in one hand. Excitement rose within as he followed the familiar route to Murtagh's house, huffing and puffing when he picked up speed. He was dropping off his ma's freshly baked treats to his godfather, hoping Murtagh would have time to go fishing.

An ear-splitting screech of brakes echoed in the air, along with mangling metal crashing and twisting.

He stopped. The plastic container dropped from his hand, and his bike collapsed to the ground. He began walking towards the crash site, sensing with every step, he was nearing a metamorphic truth that would change him forever.

Despite the trepidation mounting in his chest, he couldn't stop moving towards the wreck. He quickened his pace and then began to jog, and then he ran. Faster and faster.

He ran until the breath whooshed out from his lungs in burning gasps, and he slowed to a standstill in front of the harrowing scene that was before him.

The wind picked up, and the clouds dimmed the sun. The acrid stench of burnt rubber and engine oil filled his nostrils. A familiar face appeared through the cracked windshield, calling out his name in desperation. For a second, his heart ceased to beat, and his breath caught in his throat.

Harry?

"Save her ...please ..."

The plea struck his ears, and he tried to move, but he was stuck on the spot. He twisted his body and stretched out his arms, willing his feet to budge, straining and grunting and chanting a soundless prayer for strength. A piercing scream jolted him out from his struggle, unfettering him from the invisible force holding him in place, almost tumbling over from the abrupt release. He realised they were cries from a child.

He moved towards the car and wrenched the back door open, seemingly the only side still intact from the collision. A child, no more than the age of five with angry red blotches on her cheeks and wild curls, was restrained by the seatbelts. Her pudgy wee arms were outstretched as she screamed on top of her lungs, crying out for her mummy.

He stared in disbelief, immobilised by the uncertainty of his next course of action.

"Save her, Jamie ..." He glanced up to see Harry's face contorted in pain, eyes imploring. "There's not enough time."

"But ..."

"Go! Take her with you ...Now!"

Spurred by adrenaline and fear, heart pounding against his chest, he began to move. He unfastened the strap across the wean's body and grabbed her from the seat. Wee arms and legs wrapped around him as he spun around and headed for the moor. Holding tight to his bundle, one hand bracing the tiny head pressed against his neck, he ran as fast as he could. When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw Harry watching him through the window and then the car exploded.

Jamie woke up lurching upright to a sitting position, his top clinging to his clammy skin and his heart racing like a freight train. Swallowing air in big gulps, he yanked off the duvet and swung his legs out of bed, trying to even his breathing. Then he began to shake as he heard the distant roar from the deep recesses of his brain, and the floodgates of memories swung open in vivid hues. It came in massive waves, raising recollections and visions to the surface that had been submerged under the basement of time. A deluge of dispersed images merged into one, and a stream of realisation emerged. Suddenly everything was as clear as day. Everything that Murtagh had told him of Claire's parents earlier was now clicking into place. The child they'd rescued that fateful day was Claire! Except, in his dream, he'd been the only one to save her.

A cold shiver passed through him when a suppressed but very visual memory of Harry sprung into his head just before the car had exploded. Harry had just regained consciousness and had looked straight at Jamie with a sobbing wee Claire tight in his arms, the look on his face branding his consciousness forever. Though it had been relief carved out on the doomed man's face in knowing Claire would live, it had done nought to appease his soul. He glanced over at the woman beside him. She slept peacefully, her soft snores confirming she hadn't been affected by his fitful sleep.

Reliving the sequence of that event, he remembered now how the horror of that day had haunted him. It had been so bad, he'd been coerced to attend counselling by his mother. Too young to process Harry's demise, he'd literally felt on the edge of a nervous breakdown. After a year of refusing to talk about the ordeal, he'd shifted his focus elsewhere to stop the nightmares. There had been this unabating need to atone for Claire's parents' death, the urge to help and protect growing like a snowball, morphing into an avalanche to flatten and destroy any unpleasant memories and replace them with something good. He'd rescued animals and sheltered them in his father's barn. He'd defended kids against bullies at school. He'd volunteered for causes that involved helping the vulnerable. He'd enlisted to be part of the British Armed Forces, hoping to make a difference to the plights of those afflicted. He'd even gone as far as making a promise to his dying friend, killed in action during his SAS days. Jamie had felt so guilty for his inability to protect his best mate, Simon, he'd asked his friend's widow to marry him. Though thankful now the marriage had never taken place after having met Claire, his efforts to appease his guilt had been a struggle. All these years, he'd buried the horrors of war, the memory of losing Simon and images of Harry going up in flames with layers of what he'd thought were reparations. But what he hadn't known, his failings continued to fester below the surface. It was like a wound that refused to heal.

Had Murtagh's revelation triggered the suppressed memories to resurface? Or did it have something to do with his conversation with Claire's uncle Lamb? His mind wandered to their discussion earlier.

"Jamie," Claire giggled. "I'd like you to meet my uncle ...Quentin Lambert Beauchamp, also known as uncle Lamb. Uncle Lamb, this is Jamie, James Fraser ...my boyfriend. I'm staying with him for at least a week."

"Is that right?" the man on the screen harumphed with a growl as he stuck a thick cigar between his teeth. "Not what I was expecting."

Jamie disregarded the not so subtle dig. "Good evening, sir ..." he began.

Claire laughed. "Don't call him that, Jamie. It's too weird!" She glanced over her shoulder as she walked away. "If he's giving you "the look," don't worry. Uncle Lamb is all bluster."

"I heard that," uncle Lamb grumbled.

"Play nice, then!" she shouted from the kitchen.

Jamie eyed the man on the screen and squared his shoulders. He wished he'd been more prepared for this or at least looked presentable. Instead, he resembled a drowned cat after just having arrived home from work. Claire hadn't told him much about uncle Lamb and wondered if she'd said anything about him to the older man.

He stared at Harry's look alike. Does uncle Lamb ever smile? Or is that scowl permanently etched on his face? He wasn't sure. Maybe it had something to do with that cigar hanging loosely in his mouth.

Sizing him up, Jamie presumed they're roughly the same breadth, and if uncle Lamb was anything like Harry in stature, they should be the same height too. It's a good thing they were meeting via video conference. If they had been facing each other in person, he might be less inclined to shake hands, seeing how the older man looked like he was capable of committing murder.

An amused Claire came gliding out of the kitchen with a bottle of beer, seemingly unfazed by tension emanating from her laptop screen. "Don't mind his mood, Jamie," she chirped. "He's just grouchy because five of his men came down with food poisoning. And work is being delayed again."

Uncle Lamb growled. "Don't remind me."

Claire wagged a finger at her uncle before kissing Jamie on the forehead and handing him the bottle. "I'll go prepare dinner."

He took a deep breath as he watched her head back to the kitchen. Uncle Lamb could frown all he wanted. Ultimately, if need be, he would go through twenty uncle Lambs to show the world how serious he was about his relationship with Claire.

Jamie noticed the older man watching him very closely.

"So how are ye?"

"I don't like surprises," Quentin announced, obviously wanting to get straight to the point.

"Neither do I," he returned. Facing off each other for a few silent seconds, Jamie deliberately took a slow slug of his beer. He placed the bottle back down on the table and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "But surprises are nothing new to me. I was trained to be prepared against any surprises," he added, referring to his SAS past.

Quentin ignored the remark. "Claire told me ..." He leaned forward and rolled his khaki sleeves up, exposing tanned sinewy, muscular arms. "...you met just before Christmas."

"That's right, sir ...I mean unc ...I mean Quentin." The older man raised an eyebrow at him, and Jamie raised one back.

"Things seem to be moving along. Fast!"

"Claire and I have acknowledged that."

"She was there with you only a few weeks ago for her holidays. She's just got back to work. Did you persuade her to come back?"

"She's got a mind of her own."

"Are you serious about her?"

Jamie tried not to look rattled as the older man bombarded him with questions. It was only natural to be concerned about his niece. "Aye, I built her a shed." Ach shite, wrong answer ...what the fuck was that, ye clot-heid? He felt like kicking himself.

Quentin watched him in stony silence. "A shed?"

He inhaled deeply, careful not to show any signs of frustration. "Actually, it's a writing studio," he explained, feeling the heat crawling up his neck. "For when Claire comes over for a visit. She can work undisturbed there. I've even soundproofed the walls, and it's been comfortably furnished ."

Quentin said nothing. Instead, he slowly placed the cigar on the ashtray, raised his brandy snifter to his lips and drank.

Determined, Jamie pushed on. "Claire has handed her notice to her boss, and once her commitments in London are done, she'll be moving here ...to Broch Mordha." He tamped down the rising emotion from his throat as he thought of Claire preparing dinner for him in the kitchen. "Look, I may not look like the man ye hoped for, for yer niece, but ye dinnae ken me. I admit I come with a lot of baggage, but I'm working hard on it, and she's helped me tremendously in dealing with ..." He trailed off. He didn't want to pull the PTSD card out. This was about Claire, he reminded himself. "I ken her history. I ken she's moved a lot, lived in boarding schools, nae home to go to during the holidays, following ye half-way around the world when school's out. She told me she's never felt any sense of belonging anywhere ..." Quentin glanced away. "I want ye to know, I willnae be just another stopover for Claire. And even if she has to travel long distances to visit ye, she'll always have a place to return to. I have roots here, and I can give her..."

Quentin crossed his arms. "Give her what?"

Jamie cleared his throat. "What I'm trying to say is, I'm serious about taking our relationship further. As ye can see, she's staying here in my home until she goes back to London. Though there is this unspoken understanding between Claire and me, I dinnae want to be presumptuous ..." Jamie rolled his head to ease the tension in his neck. "...in thinking, she will move in with me when she relocates here to Broch Mordha. But I plan on asking her. And it would be verrae nice if ye could give yer blessing and ..."

He shook his head. "No!" His grin was more like a baring of his cigar-stained teeth. "Ask me again in a year."

Jamie ran a hand through his hair. "All due respect, I ken she will say yes when I ask. And I ken she's stubborn enough to make up her own decisions with or without yer blessing. But I'd rather I have it ...for all our sakes. I'm no' sure if ye are aware, but I have my own business that I share with my brother, I own a house, I have no mortgage, and I make enough to provide for both of us with enough left for savings. She can pursue her dream of writing to her heart's content without worrying about finances."

"You overlook the fact that she's a city girl. What if her writing career never takes off? What are her possibilities in the Highlands?"

"Oh, but it will take off. I have faith it will. She's very passionate about pursuing her dream, and rightly so, because she's a talented writer. I can attest to that because I've read one of her finished works."

Quentin's face softened just a tiny bit. "You have?"

"Aye, I have," he hedged. "Claire should have published her work ages ago, and I plan to encourage her to do just that. Her writing would be a wonderful gift to the world."

"You're doing a lot for someone you barely know."

"Quentin," Jamie sighed, swallowing his exasperation. "I'm in love with yer niece. I'm aware everything between us is happening fast, and I dinnae suppose there is a timeframe or formula to follow when it comes to relationships. I'm just winging this and going along with my guts. And my guts are telling me Claire is the one. I still cannae believe someone like her is even real and that she loves me back. I sometimes wonder if I'm dreaming. She brings the best out of me, and I want to do the same for her. So if helping her realise her dreams is all I have to do to keep her, that's what I'll do."

A few heartbeats of silence and watching each other closely passed before Quentin spoke again. "What did you say your last name was? I didn't quite catch it."

Ach, Christ, he's gonnae do a background check on me! "Fraser," Jamie replied.

The older man let out an impatient grunt. "Yes, yes, but which Fraser do you belong to? There are a lot of Frasers in the Highlands."

"My parents are Brian and Ellen Fraser," he replied, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

Quentin's brows knitted together, and his stubbled jaw flexed twice. "You mean Brian and Ellen from Lallybroch?"

Jamie shifted in his seat. "Ye know them?"

"And you're Jamie?" Quentin asked, ignoring his question.

Confusion descended over Jamie as he saw the transformation in Quentin's face. "Aaaye," he said slowly and deliberately. Where in the bloody hell is this going to, now?

"And Claire wants to move in with you?"

"As I've said, I havenae asked her, but I think she would like the idea of us living together. It would make perfect sense since we do love each other."

He grabbed the cigar and pointed the tip in his direction. "You have my blessings." Ignoring Jamie's sharp intake of breath, he tipped back the rest of his brandy. "Conditions are, there should be once a week phone-calls. Video or facetime ones or whatever you call it. And when I'm on British soil ..."

Jamie suddenly straightened up on his seat. "We'll visit, or ye can come and stay with us."

Quentin shot up on his feet. "Very well then, welcome to the family, Fraser. Go and get your dinner ...you wouldn't want your wife ..." he coughed, his face turning red. "...I mean your girlfriend reheating what she's just lovingly made."

Jamie got up as well, ready to shut the laptop, relief and confusion at the sudden turn around washing over him in waves. What the fuck just happened? Too bewildered for words, "Of course," was all he could muster.

Quentin hesitated, as if in search of the right words, his throat working overtime. When he finally spoke, Jamie couldn't help but hear the emotion in the older man's voice. "If Claire's father was alive today, he would think his daughter has made a fine choice."

His jaw dropped involuntarily. "He would?"

There was no reply. Too shell shocked, Jamie stood there staring at the screen for a full minute, long after Quentin had signed off.

When Claire reappeared from the kitchen, she launched herself into his arms and whispered, "Hungry?"

His bewilderment evaporated, happiness shrouding around him in such a way he knew everything was going to be alright.

Puffing out a breath, Jamie shoved a hand through his hair and made his way to the bathroom. He knew he wouldn't be going back to sleep for a while, so he might as well washed off those vivid dreams of Harry and clear his thoughts of that conversation with uncle Lamb. He felt like he was living in the Twilight Zone and badly needed to get his equilibrium back.

The silence of the night closed in around him until the soothing spray of the shower hit his skin. He wondered if Claire would remember anything from her parents' accident. She'd mentioned a couple of times, she had been five when they passed away. Considering that Claire was now in a happy place, content and well-adjusted, it was probably not the brightest of ideas to conjure up her past. But then, on the other hand, he suspected she might want to know what had happened that day. After all, she did have the right to know her history, no matter how painful.

The image of Claire's bright amber eyes and husky laughter flashed in his mind.

Jamie sighed, turned off the shower, and quickly dried himself off. When he realised Claire wasn't in bed, he made his way to the kitchen. He quietened his pace when he found her dropping teabags into two mugs, wearing only his t-shirt and a pair of woollen socks. She didn't hear him approach at first, looking deep in thought as she waited for the kettle to boil.

Moonlight streamed in through the kitchen window, creating a halo out of the wisps of curls framing her face, the whole scene reminding him she was everything he wasn't, a shining light where he watched her in the shadows. Sorcha! A force within spurred him towards her, needing to touch that light, hoping it wouldn't fade with his damaged soul.

"It's late, Sassenach. What are ye doing up?" he asked, walking towards the fridge.

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!" she jumped, hands flying to her chest. She tucked a loose curl behind her ears and faced him with a sigh, a small smile slowly forming her lips. "You weren't in bed, so I thought you probably had one of your nightmares. I'm making us some chamomile tea. It helps with sleep and relaxation."

He wasn't sure if this was the time to tell Claire about his dreams, so he dismissed it with a wave of a hand and smiled. "Just a strange dream. Is that one of yer herbal remedies?" he asked, stirring the subject to something neutral.

She lifted a shoulder. "Something like that."

He opened the fridge and found a rainbow of colours of fruits, vegetables, yoghurts and juices. Claire hadn't been kidding when she'd said she went food shopping today. Obviously, root vegetables, eggs, cheese and a container of hummus he'd bought wasn't enough. Smiling, he grabbed a pear and shut the fridge door. "Do pears go with chamomile tea?"

Her face lit up, making his heart expand. "I suppose so." She poured hot water into the mugs and brought their teas to the dining table, Jamie following close behind her. "And it's good for you. You ought to eat more fruits."

"But you bought enough pears to feed an entire village, Sassenach," he pointed out, biting into the succulent fruit.

Claire giggled as she sat down. "The other bag of pears are for the sticky toffee pear pudding I'm going to make. Uncle Lamb loves making it for me whenever he comes over for a visit. So I thought I'd make some for us. He told me the recipe he uses was from my mum."

The way she smiled fondly at the memory made him want to draw her into his arms, but he took a seat instead. "With pears? I've only ever had normal sticky toffee pudding," he said, sipping some tea. "My ma makes it sometimes."

Her eyes twinkled. "I was told my mum loved to bake. And apparently, according to uncle Lamb, my favourite was cream buns."

Curiosity started to niggle in his belly at the mention of Claire's mother, even though he rebelled against it. Is this the time to talk about the death of her parents? Before he could change his mind, he came straight out with it. "Sorry to change the subject, Sassenach, but I have something to ask. What made ye come to the Highlands every Christmas?" he asked. "Ye mentioned once, ye like coming here during the Holidays. I mean, it's a great place to spend Christmas and all, but is there a particular reason?"

For a long moment, she stared at him with a faraway look. He realised he was holding his breath, half of him already regretting asking the question. There was a possibility her answer could lead to resurrecting a tragic event and snuffing the light out of her. And he needed to bask in her light some more. What was he thinking? Leave the past in the past, Murtagh had told him. He didn't know what lay on the other side of bringing up her parents' death. Either way, Claire didn't need to be dragged down with a sad memory.

Feeling suddenly foolish, he put down the pear he was eating and reached out to touch her hand. "Ye know what. Dinnae answer that. It's getting late. The tea is working its magic already, and I think I'm ready to go to bed."

A delicate frown marred her brows. "Are you sure you don't want to know?"

Am I sure? No, not really. "Go on, tell me then."

She suddenly beamed like the light that she was. "The reason why I love coming back to the Highlands every year is, this is the place where my parents met and fell in love. I'm not quite sure where exactly, but it was somewhere around here. As far as I know, the Highlands was their happy place where they made loads of happy memories and great friends, and every time I come here, it makes me feel closer to them. You might find it odd, but I do feel most at peace here. There's something that draws me to come every year. Call it gravitational pull or whatever. But it feels like it's my parents' way of sharing their happiness with me. Am I making any sense?"

His breath of relief released in a slow rush, lightness invading his chest, as he realised she didn't remember anything of her parents' death. Or at least he presumed so. But, if it's his burden to carry the truth of Claire's parents' death alone, so be it. Why bring up something dark that has no place in their lives anymore? Maybe one day ...in the far future. Her hand still in his, he stood up, pulling her to her feet before lifting her into his arms. She squealed in surprise. "It doesnae matter if it makes sense or no', Sassenach. If it feels right to ye, then it must mean something. Who knows, maybe the reason ye're probably drawn to the Highlands is that ye were conceived here. Have ye ever thought of that?"

Claire slipped her arms around his neck and smiled. "Or maybe ..." she leaned in to nibble at his earlobe. "...because I was drawn to ye. Have you ever thought of that?"

Jamie laughed as he started to walk them towards the bedroom. "C'mon off to bed with ye ...I have an early start tomorrow."

Claire eyed him mischievously as she snuggled closer. "To bed or to sleep?"

With a guttural groan, he lowered his head, brushing their lips together as he gave his answer in kisses.

Dear Readers,

I hope this chapter made sense to you. As you might have noticed, I didn't write the events in this chapter in chronological order, and I hope you can understand why I wrote it the way I did. If it didn't make any sense, please, I'm all ears ...ask away, and I'll answer.

It was a challenge writing the dream part, so I hope I've done it justice. And mostly, I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I have enjoyed seeing the feedbacks in the previous chapter. So a big thank you for that!

Let me know what you thought about the latest instalment and until the next update, take care of your health and keep up the positive vibes. X 😀❤️

ADDED UPDATE - An explanation to this chapter

I was trying to be clever and do the first two part of this chapter in the reverse order that I may have left you confused than enlightened. I have copied and pasted an explanation to the question posted by one reader in AO3. I hope this will help clarify things. So here goes:

The dream was brought about by two triggers. First, was Jamie's conversation with Murtagh in Chapter five. Although in Jamie's dream he'd been the one to save Claire, in reality, it had been Murtagh. But it was Jamie who carried Claire to safety after Murtagh instructed him to. This was the conversation:

Murtagh puffed out a breath. "The last time ye saw Henry, he was in a car accident ...with his family."

"What?" he choked.

Murtagh turned tired-looking eyes on him, and there was a deep sadness in them that startled him. "It was the day they were coming back to Broch Mordha for the first time in years. I heard talks around the village that they've rented a wee cottage from Mrs Baird. And also heard words about a wean. I didnae want to stick around to find out. I thought I'd take a wee trip to Skye and stay there until Henry and his family were gone. I was just packing when ye came barging into my hoose tellin me that a car had smashed to a tree. I came running oot like a gudgeon with ye right behind me. Ye must have been nine or ten. It wasnae far from where I lived then. By the time I got there, Henry was still alive, and Jules was unconscious. He ordered me to get the bairn first and then Jules. My first thoughts were to save Jules, but the wee child was screaming, and Henry was begging me to save her. Between the two of us, we managed to get wee Claire oot, and I ordered ye to take her as far as possible from the site. And that ye did. But I couldnae save Harry and Jules because the car caught fire and Henry lost consciousness. When I smelt gasoline, I had to run, and that's when the car exploded."

The second trigger was brought about by seeing Uncle Lamb's similarity to Harry and also by their conversation via video conference. Towards the end of their conversation uncle Lamb realised Jamie was the young boy who'd carried Claire to safety before the car exploded. Uncle Lamb would have remembered this because he was the only living guardian of Claire and the story of his brothers' demise would have been passed on to him when he came to collect Claire. You will also notice that Jamie found it strange the sudden turn around in uncle Lamb's demeanour at the end of their talk. But Jamie hadn't known the reason for this until after the dream. The dream in a way brought back all the suppressed memories and everything clicked in place together.

Now Jamie is unsure of asking Claire what she knew about the crash and telling her his dreams. Seeing her happy and contented, he didn't want her to relive that past in case more grief than good comes out of it.

I hope I made more sense here. X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #ClaireBeauchamp/JamieFraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

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chaoticallysapphic · 4 years

Text

the great divide part six

summary: Who knew that eight words would be your undoing. If you had known then what you know now you wouldn't have signed up for Suyin's dance troupe, you probably would have left Zaofu just to be safe. But you didn't and fate had branded you with a path that chained you to someone who would break your heart.

a/n: The last part! Please remember there is an epilogue, Gif is made by @stelladonna and a massive thanks to @medeliadracon for beta reading this series! And also a big thank you to @ladyxffandoms for helping me figure out what was missing.

word count: 8k

When you leave her office, Kuvira is filled with rage so hot she fears it may burn her insides. She hears the slam of her doors and the muffled conversation between guards before it’s softly shut once more. “It shouldn’t be a tough decision, Kuvira.”

The malice in your voice, the use of her full name, it shattered through the toughest of walls within her. Ones you’d never breached before. She’s never been good with her emotions, ever since she was a child she warped her sadness, her loneliness, and sometimes even happiness into anger as a way to protect herself.

She was a difficult child with a temper the size of Ba Sing Se, so difficult in fact that her parents deemed her unfit for their life. It felt like the world was ending when she first arrived in Zaofu, the way her parents spoke to her before they left, making her seem like no one would ever truly love her unless she let Suyin mold her into a model citizen.

And that was another problem, Suyin always tried to turn Kuvira into a miniature version of herself. It didn’t matter how different she was, Suyin tried to bury who Kuvira truly was with a perfected version of herself, a false one.

Up until her parent's abandonment, she always assumed love would be easy and that she would instantly marry her soulmate. She’d pull her shirt up just a bit and look at the words swirled across her hip bone in wonder. “Would you mind helping me memorize the routine?”

Those words, however minuscule and mundane, proved to her that she was worthy of love. That one day she would be loved. But as she grew older in Zaofu she felt a disconnect regarding those words on her hip, the first time she had sex she had covered it up, as if trying to shield the person she hadn’t even met yet. Hara, the name of the girl who had eyed her since the first day of guard training, didn’t seem to care at all.

Kuvira feels like she should lie and say she had her eyes on you since the first practice you attended but honestly she hadn’t even noticed the new addition to the troupe. When you had pranced over to her, still light on your feet after the routine, and spoke, she wondered what kind of soft-spoken woman would end up loving someone whose own parents hated her?

She remembers that night in the metal flower in vivid detail. When you were spinning alongside her in the air she suddenly was consumed with the desire to kiss you, she didn’t even realize she had pulled you close until your soft lips touched hers.

She knew from the moment you spoke that first day she should have broken up with Baatar Jr. But Kuvira, even though she will never admit it out loud, is a stubborn and flawed woman who can’t stop once she sets her mind to something.

The fourth night of the second month on the train after she had been uncharacteristically gentle with you, was the first time you said you loved her. She asked you to repeat yourself again and again until you pulled her into a deep kiss, pouring all your love into it. The action left her breathless, and with that kiss, you broke her first wall.

She doesn’t even realize she’s crying until she starts to think about you and all her memories of you. You’re most likely in your room erasing any trace of her there may be, completely ready to extract her from your life.

Kuvira forces herself out of her office and over to her front door, she opens it up just a few inches, enough for the guard nearby to see. She doesn’t care if he can see the tears racing down her cheeks. “Have a guard stationed outside of Y/n’s door.”

Once she shuts the door after he nods, Kuvira walks into her room where she sits on the edge of her bed. If she goes to sleep, will you still be in her life tomorrow? Kuvira shoves off her boots but otherwise stays in her uniform as she lays down and stares blankly out the window, her country needs her. They need her to protect them in a way no one has ever protected her before.

Kuvira doesn’t sleep that night, she stays awake, her gaze focused on a potted plant out in the courtyard, and imagines every possible scenario in her head. These last few years have spoiled her in a way, you were always by her side through it all. You were there cheering her on and making her feel loved and wanted. She doesn’t know if she can go back to how it used to be, to loneliness.

When rays of sunshine start to peak through her window, she pulls herself up and out of bed. Kuvira goes to the bathroom to smooth out any wrinkles in her clothes but doesn’t feel the energy or motivation to change into a fresh pair. She slept in her bun, it’s a bit frizzy now with a few loose strands that she tries to tuck into her braid, there’s a pesky curl that won’t cooperate. Kuvira eventually gives up on it, letting it stay out and frame the side of her face.

You love when she has her hair down, when it’s down you immediately run your fingers through the dark curls and let out this content sigh that fills her heart with adoration. Kuvira shoves her feet into her boots on the way out of her room, beyond caring about her appearance. The guard outside her door, the same from last night steps forward when she walks out of her room.

“Ms. Y/n left her room around one A.M, it’s been reported that she’s staying at the encampment.” Kuvira frowns, did she take too long? Have you given up?

You were her guiding hand, her moral compass and now you’re gone. “Thank you,” she says monotonously before heading towards the kitchen. Despite her desire to shut herself off from the world, her stomach is cramping in pain due to hunger. She should have eaten the food you gave her last night, now it’s strewn across the desk in her office, cold and gone bad.

She takes herself the familiar route to the kitchens, growing up here has its perks. She'd seen how you look around in a mixture of confusion and wonder when they had gone to try and negotiate with Suyin. Kuvira knows this place, she ran down these very halls when she was younger. Despite the hollowness that echoes through the halls, the lack of laughter and conversation turns the whole home into a colorless husk of what it used to be.

Kuvira hadn't noticed the lack of life within as she walked into the empty kitchen. Her guards had gotten Suyin's chef to cook breakfast and dinner, and she had given him lunch off. It was for sentimental reasons, all the birthday cakes he baked her and midnight snacks. He might hate her now but she'll keep giving him lunch off in hopes of paying him back for the happy memories. She doesn't like to owe people.

He must not be in yet, it's barely dawn. The kitchen is empty, giving Kuvira the perfect moment of respite before her dreadful day. She grabs a piece of bread, most likely baked yesterday, and an apple. Part of her doesn't have an appetite, to upset about her fight with you to want to eat. She forces it down with a glass of water, the food helps her slightly, helps her feel stronger than before.

Kuvira walks down the hall, her feet carried her out of the estate and towards the tram. “I need to get out of the city,” she says to the operator waiting for any passengers by the tram doors. He nods and briskly walks over to the operating booth, she decides to grab onto the pole at the center of the cart and stand. The machinery starts with a jolt but Kuvira remains unmoving, staring straight ahead. Slowly the scenery around her begins to change, it takes her around the outer domes where a few people are toddling about, most likely walking off to work.

The tram goes under a tunnel before entering the main dome. That towering golden statue of Toph Beifong comes into view and Kuvira sighs as a memory of you enters her mind.

You’re moving around your room on the train as the view from outside is blurred due to the speed you were moving at. You and Kuvira were beginning to get to know each other in the safety of the night, which brought you such joy. Standing in front of your vanity with only Kuvira’s undershirt on you begin to take the pins out of your hair. “What was your home like?” She had asked. A wide smile made its way onto your face as you set the bobby pins into a small ring dish.

“Just so cozy. We have a townhouse in the main dome across from the botanical gardens. I had the best view from my bedroom window,” you let out a wistful sigh as you begin to untie your locks. “Our home was directly situated to the center of it, all you had to do was walk across the street to enter. So I got to wake up with a view of every flower Zaofu has curated, it felt like it was just for me.”

Kuvira watches you fondly from the bed as you continue “my dad and I made a metal planter to hang from our kitchen window by the front door, during summertime hydrangeas bloom from it.”

Without thinking Kuvira rushes over to the emergency brake button and slaps her hand onto it, the tram stops with a harsh jolt that sends her stumbling to the side. The doors automatically open with the lights above flashing red. Kuvira stands on the edge, looking below. The fall isn’t far but it could still hurt her, so she bends two of the metal seats, ripping them out of their places screwed to the floor and warping it into a crud shape of a ladder.

She bends it to the edge, moving the nails that popped out to screw them into the floor to secure the ladder. Kuvira lets out a deep sigh before beginning her descent below. This is stupid and will most likely blow up in her face, but if you decide to say goodbye to her today, she wants to see the place that you once called home. There are a few inches between the ladder and the ground so Kuvira jumps, She bends at the ladder back into the tram so if it starts whilst she’s away it won’t break any buildings in the process.

An old man opening up shop stares at Kuvira with wide eyes, watching her walk away as the tram above stays frozen. She’s a block away from the garden she’s heard you gush about, more and more people begin to filter out from their homes to start their day and each one eyes her with disgust. Squaring her shoulders, she stares ahead and away from everyone's watchful gaze.

The gardens come into view, towering bright green trees with vines growing on the wrought iron fence surrounding it. Kuvira stops at the entrance, looking inside with hesitancy, as if worried she’ll destroy it upon contact. There’s a pond in the center with a few lily pads floating around with two benches across from one another by the pond.

Flowers of all shapes and colors are scattered around and when her gaze locks on the towering Sunflowers in bloom, Kuvira suddenly remembers once finding you tucked behind them with bloodshot eyes and a raspy voice from crying. That was the second time she had knowingly hurt you, the first being asking you to keep it a secret. Kuvira takes a step back, not feeling worthy of stepping inside such a radiant place, and begins her trek around it to your house.

Most of the homes don’t have many outdoor decorations, a welcome mat or a potted plant seems to be the theme so when her eyes lock onto that metal planter with blue hydrangeas Kuvira knows she’s found the place. It’s a two-story townhome with some sort of stick figure drawn on the second story window and when she looks over her shoulder she sees how perfectly centered the house is to see all of the gardens from above.

She doesn’t know what to do now. She never really thought through her plan, which is incredibly unlike her, but that memory came flooding back through her mind and she knew she needed to see it for herself. Slowly she takes a step forward, and then another and another until she’s in front of the door with her fist raised, rapping three times against the metal.

Kuvira doesn’t know why she does it, maybe it's the sleep deprivation or an act of desperation to feel your presence again, she honestly doesn’t know. There’s the sound of thunderous footsteps from behind the door and a masculine voice calling out “I’ll get it!”

A man opens the door with the same color hair as you, he’s a bit on the chubbier side and looks to be roughly 6’2 or maybe even 6’3.

Kuvira can see the resemblance in certain features of his and it makes her long for you even more. Your father scowls at the sight of her, his demeanor has changed from cheery to vexed in a matter of seconds. She shouldn’t be surprised.

“I’m Kuvi-”

“I know who you are, you made us kneel before you.” His voice is gruff and his words clipped. Kuvira sighs, right, she did do that. “What do you want?”

‘I’ve come to talk to you and your wife about… well about your daughter.” Spirits this is awkward, your father stares Kuvira down for a few moments before frowning. Slowly he steps aside, letting her in. Your home is warm with family photos framed and hanging from the wall, the entry is a narrow hallway with an archway that leads into a small kitchen. As Kuvira follows your dad down the hall her eyes catch on a photo of you.

You can’t be any older than eight in it with your arms wrapped around your father's neck as he carries you on his back. Your mother is beside the two of you, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. All three of you are grinning and Kuvira notices that one of your front teeth is missing. Both of you have lived such different lives. At eight Kuvira was being abandoned by her parents for being too out of control.

Two people who grew up in completely different environments with such clashing personalities are soulmates, in some ways, it seems like a sick joke. But she can’t be upset about it when she loves you this much, just confused.

Your father clears his throat, ripping Kuvira from her thoughts. She looks over and tenses, he’s looking at her like he wants to say something but shakes his head and enters the room at the end of the hall. Kuvira reluctantly leaves the photo behind and follows after him.

The room is a living and dining room with a small circular table that has an elegant bouquet of yellow and white flowers in a simple vase with four chairs tucked underneath it. There is a cozy looking periwinkle sofa and an unlit fireplace with a photo hanging above it, this one is larger and is of you before the performance all those years ago. You look so pretty in that costume and so happy. Kuvira swallows.

Your dad walks up the staircase tucked to the right, leaving her in the living room where she awkwardly stands. She doesn’t think he wants her to go up. Kuvira makes out the sound of aggressive whispering from upstairs, she can’t make out any of the words but soon after two people come walking downstairs. Your father and your mother.

Kuvira’s eyes widened, you always mentioned your mother being part of the guard but you never mentioned her being the Lieutenant for the main dome. Not only did she help train Kuvira, but she also placed the captain's pin onto her uniform during her ceremony. She had smiled at Kuvira, having seen her as her own, and said quietly “I’m so proud of you.”

That smile is long gone and replaced with a scowl. “What could you possibly want to say about our daughter?” Your father places a gentle hand on her shoulder, trying to calm her down a bit.

Kuvira gulps as she eyes the both of them, there're so many emotions raging within her now that she doesn’t know if she can even speak. Suddenly this place somehow seems too much like you and she wants to run away from your mother's wrathful gaze. “I’m… Your daughter,” Kuvira internally groans. This shouldn’t be so hard. “ Y/n and I are soulmates.”

“So the rumors are true…” Your father mutters as he plops down onto the couch with a dumbfounded expression.

“What rumors?” She had locked herself up in her room all of yesterday and this is her first time having a conversation with someone that’s not you. Your father grimaces.

“That guards found you in her room, naked,” your mother spits the words out. Oh spirits, this is not a good first impression. Kuvira feels her face flush a deep red “that you imprisoned your fiancé because he caught the two of you.”

“It’s a lot more than that” she offers, neither seems to care. Your father seems to not want to hear any of this because he quickly stands and walks off towards the kitchen. The sounds of pots and pans being moved can be heard through the otherwise eerily silent home. “I didn’t want to imprison him.”

“I don’t care, what I want to know is why you were even with him if my daughter is your soulmate. She abruptly left with you three years ago.”

The explanation floating around her mind isn’t good enough, she can’t seem to figure out how to eloquently explain herself without it seeming like she doesn’t care about you. Suddenly as she thinks over the last three years and she starts to notice how harshly she’s treated you.

Up until now she always claimed it was for the good of the country, when you both finally got married the world would try to eat you up and chew you out for being with her. She needed you to have a perfect image and be resilient.

“I-I needed him for engineering and he wouldn’t leave with us unless he thought I loved him,” Kuvira says sheepishly. Your mother looks unimpressed as her jaw begins to clench. “I have always loved your daughter though.”

“So you hid my daughter, my beautiful, amazing, and sweet daughter away like something to be ashamed of?” She takes a step closer, scowling. Kuvira feels like the collar of her jacket is choking her.

“No! I have never been ashamed of her, I always told her how much I loved her.”

“But you turned her into the other woman for your own selfish desires!”

“They weren’t selfish, they were for the good of the empire! She understood.” Kuvira thinks you understood but right now she’s not too sure. A kettle in the background begins to whistle.

“My daughter dreamed of the day she’d meet her soulmate, she had everything planned out and I know for a fact that the woman I raised would not be okay with what you’ve turned her into!” Your father quietly reenters the room with a tray that holds three teacups with steam coming from them.

“I love her, I just want to fix everything! It's why I came here,” that’s the real reason that compelled Kuvira to come here, if anyone knew you better than her, it’d be your parents.

“How is she doing?” Your father asks, Kuvira looks over at him and notices how sad he looks. His eyes are bloodshot and a few tears fall from his eyes before he wipes them away.

“She’s healthy but upset with me.”

“As she should be,” your mother mutters under her breath. He picks up a teacup and blows on it, “why is she upset?” His voice cracks.

“She wants me to end this, told me it's her or the empire and I don’t know what to do.” Kuvira sighs and runs a hand through her hair, messing her bun up a bit.

“And why haven’t you chosen her already?” Your father's voice is calm, there’s a sadness to it but he doesn’t shout or rage like your mother who has her back turned to Kuvira as she goes to pick up one of the teacups. She can see how tense your mother is, how angry she still is.

“Because it's my country, if I give it up to Wu and Suyin then I am turning my back on the people I promised to protect.”

“You once promised to protect Zaofu at all costs” your mother snips out, he places a hand on her shoulder and softly says “honey, please.” She relaxes just a fraction as she takes the seat beside him at the table, glaring at her tea.

“These people are vulnerable and need someone to make sure they feel safe again. I’m that person, and your daughter understood that, or I thought she did.”

Your father sets his cup down and pats the chair beside him that’s situated across from your mother. She shyly walks over to it, she doesn’t want to sit down but she’s already pissed your mom off just by existing and she’d rather not give her another reason to hate her.

“They were vulnerable, but you have gotten rid of the bandits and raiders. You’ve stabilized the empire as you promised, now it’s time to let go and hand over the reins to someone else.”

“I can’t do that,” Kuvira says, her heart is racing. Let someone else rule? Give up the control she craves? The idea makes her feel unsafe, like the second she does it someone will destroy not only her but also you.

“You have to, my daughter won’t stay with you otherwise. Are you really ready to give up love for power?” He hands her the last cup of tea, the scent of jasmine wafts up and fills her senses. She slowly goes to pick up the cup, her hands shaking.

She’s so overwhelmed, none of this is meant to be happening. She’s supposed to win and you're meant to love and support her, then she proposes with a beautiful emerald ring that she’d make herself and you’d say yes. That’s how it’s meant to go, that’s how she has envisioned it since day one.

“This isn’t how it’s meant to go” she confesses, your father sets a soft hand on her own to help stop the shaking.

“How do you think it’s meant to go?” And so she tells him what she just thought, and she adds on how both of you would continue to better this country together and maybe, one day in the far future, have a child.

“Did you ever ask Y/n if that’s what she wants?” Your mother tries to keep her voice calm, tries to keep from yelling at her again. Kuvira stares down at the cup, trying to wrack her brain around the time you’d chime in with the future you wanted, or a time she even asked. “Just because it’s the future you planned for her doesn’t mean it's the one she wants. You can’t just plan everything out without including your partner's opinions and desires into the equation.”

You once talked about what your wedding would be like with Kuvira chiming in every once in a while, but that was it. That was the only time you mentioned anything regarding the future.

“Love is about equality, you both should be putting in equal effort. It’s a delicate balance that takes time to learn, give, and take. It’s not always going to be perfect even with your soulmate but you make it work for each other. If my daughter stayed with you all these years then she must love you, but for her to put her foot down shows she has had enough.” Your father's voice is soothing and calms her down just a bit.

“But…” Kuvira’s voice shakes, “what do I do if I give up control? It’ll never go back to how it was before, how am I meant to go back to everyday life after everything I’ve done? After knowing I probably could have done more.”

“No one knows what life will be like after. But I think a few years down the road you could get back to the place you were at before, maybe a new and improved version due to all the knowledge you’ve acquired over the years and due to having Y/n with you,” he takes a sip of his tea after speaking and delicately sets it down on its saucer.

“I know you need control in your life Kuvira, it’s what made you good at being Captain, but you need to let go. Everyone has to let go at some point and this is your time,” your mother says. Kuvira’s eyes glance around the room as she feels her heart begin to pound, it feels like any second it’ll leap out of her chest. Let go? The idea sends her mind spiraling with horrifying scenarios of what might happen.

“We may not like you, but if you drop this once and for all, and make our daughter happy then,” your mother lets out a deep sigh “we will be here to support and help you.” Tears glisten in her eyes as she stares at the both of them. “If our daughter loves you then that must mean there’s still some good left in you.”

Kuvira begins to softly cry, a hand comes up to cover her mouth as her shoulders hunch in on themselves. Your dad lets out a soft sigh and says “c’mere,” before pulling her into his arms and hugging her. Kuvira doesn’t hug him back nor pull away, she just sits there and cries into his shoulder. She knows what she must do and it terrifies her, fills her with doubt, and causes her stomach to clench from anxiety.

“You need to bring her back to us, please,” he whispers, and Kuvira nods. Slowly he pulls away from her and offers her a gentle, comforting squeeze on the shoulder. She desperately wipes at her eyes, suddenly embarrassed to have cried in front of them, and lets out a shuddering breath.

“You should go find her,” your mother says. Kuvira stands on wobbly legs, her hand placed firmly on the table for support. When she’s fully upright your father pulls her back into a hug, a short one this time. Kuvira awkwardly pats his back until he lets go.

Your mother stays seated, staring her down. “Don’t break her heart,” she says. Kuvira vehemently nods, her eyes wide. She will do whatever it takes to protect your beautiful heart and if you forgive her she will cherish it every second of every day.

She leaves shortly after that, your dad gives her a cookie before letting her leave which turns out to be really good and she walks over to the tram station. It’s since been fixed so when she presses the button requesting its presence it zooms by and opens its doors for her. The chairs are still messed up, just laying there a mess of something hardly resembling what they used to be. The tram takes her out of the city and to the entrance where she wastes no time hopping into a jeep and speeding off.

The midmorning sun beats down, today is incredibly hot and causes little beads of sweat to form on her forehead. When she gets to the encampment Kuvira slows just barely and everyone moves out of the way at the sound of the car barreling through. She abruptly stops it and jumps down before heading into her tent.

Inside Kuvira marches to her radio, she disregards the state of it and doesn’t even notice the filing cabinet you broke as she tunes into the main radio station the encampment uses. “Radio Freedom, what do you need?”

“Find y/n and send her to my tent.”

“Of course, great uniter. I’ll tell all my men to search for her.” The voice stutters out a reply before she switches it off. Spirits she feels like she might go crazy whilst she waits for you. She leans against the front of her desk with her arms crossed as she tries to come up with some grand speech of how much she loves you, of how your love and presence is what has kept her sane over these last few years.

She looks up at the ceiling and sighs, the idea is terrifying but she chooses you, she’ll let go of her defenses and send her men home for you.

The sound of fabric rustling has Kuvira snapping her head back down to stare into your eyes. You look pissed, you don’t have on your jacket so the white undershirt sticks to your sweaty skin and you have your hair in a messy ponytail instead of the usual bun.

Kuvira wets her lips before speaking, “I spoke to your parents.” Your eyes widen at that, Kuvira continues “I didn’t realize I knew your mom, she helped train me when I first joined the guard.” And she hates my guts which I don’t blame her, Kuvira thinks. I let her down, just like I let you down.

You finally look into her eyes and spirits, even with that furious look on your face you take her breath away. “So?”

“She’s a blunt woman, and when I told her about us neither of your parents were pleased.” You wrap your arms around yourself and frown, she wishes she could know what’s going on inside your head. “But they gave me a piece of useful advice, something I probably could have had use of hearing all those years ago.”

She slowly walks over to you, hesitantly so. When she’s close enough you look her over and purse your lips. There’s a slight look of concern written on your features and it swells her heart with a hint of hope.

“That if I love you, it shouldn’t just be me taking from you, but by asking you to hide everything and go along with my plans that was exactly what I did. I realize now I never even asked what you want, what you envision when you see our future.”

You begin to silently cry and she has to use all of her willpower to keep from reaching forward to wipe away your tears.

“It should be equal. Give and take and be there for each other. There shouldn’t be punishments or silent treatment,” Kuvira pushes a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “What do you want?”

You squeeze your eyes shut at her words, your bottom lip trembling. You get lost in your thoughts, something you do often but Kuvira decides not to pull you out. She’ll give you all the time you need to reply.

“I want peace,” you say, your voice a mere whisper. But she hears you loud and clear. “I want this all to end and I want us to finally be able to love one another in front of others. I don’t want any of this, I can’t peacefully live in a world where this… this mission is a success.”

Kuvira takes a step forward and opens her mouth to pour out all of her feelings, to promise that she’ll end it when something interrupts your moment. A shout and gunfire pierce through the air. Kuvira’s heart drops and she rushes forward to look outside of the tent.

Her men are scrambling around like ants, stumbling to get to their places. She makes out a clash of fire and earth up ahead and runs out, leaving you behind. She turns a corner and comes face first with one of her men, instead of informing her of what’s going on he shoots a ball of fire at her. Kuvira’s eyes widen as she bends up a wall to protect her.

“C’mon oh great uniter! Fight me” he shouts. Kuvira’s nostrils flare as she pushes the wall forward towards the man, it hits him and sends him stumbling back. As she advances with hands clenched, ready to activate his bracelet he shoots a spiraling wave of fire out of his foot that has Kuvira jumping out of the way. “It’s even ground now,” he says in a smug tone as he raises her pant leg to show a naked ankle. What?

Her heart races as she stands back up, cracking her neck to the side. She fought the avatar, she can fight this puny fire bender. Kuvira gets into stance, smirking as she shoots out two pieces of metal, one wraps around his ankle and the other around his neck, and with a twist of her wrist, he’s flying backward, slamming into the metal wall of one of the guardhouses.

“Kuvira!” She hears you spit out, her head turns as she watches you desperately run over with an enraged look on your face. You bend the metal off the poor man, he falls to the floor with a groan. “Leave him alone.”

“He is defying me!” Her eyes widened in rage, how could you defend him? “He is one of my soldiers and he just tried to kill me.”

“He was never one of your soldiers!” Your fists are clenched as you try to control your anger, “you forced him into this!”

With both of you distracted he raises once more, letting out a pained groan before shooting a small, weaker bolt of fire. You shoot up a wall for the both of you, keeping your gaze trained on your lover. “It’s him or me.”

Kuvira lets out a growl of anger at your words, loyal earth empire soldiers rush past towards the battlefield, ignoring the lover's quarrel as they shout out commands to one another. “Why are you defending him!?”

“Because Kuvira what we did back then wasn’t right, because I made a promise to myself to protect them and I will not break it!” Her eyes widen, stumbling back a step. There’s so much going on in her head, she just wants to silence all the anger and confusion that burns within this situation.

“You freed him?” She asks incredulously, you thickly swallow before nodding.

“I freed all of them.” Your wall begins to crumble, the fire bender has since left, leaving the two of you to stare at one another. “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. I should have never let you cage them in as you did. You asked me early what I want? I want you to let this war go, I want you to leave them alone and surrender!”

“I can’t do that!” Not now, not after being attacked, not after seeing that her men are in some sort of danger. Your hands reach up to cup her cheeks, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Yes you can, I know you can Kuvira.”

She rips herself out of your grasp, suddenly feeling like your touch will poison her. Poison her resolve and burn away all of her control. She needs this war to thrive, she needs it more than air itself.

A deafening boom is heard from behind her, once more she leaves you behind but this time she feels you hot on her heels as she runs towards the battle. Kuvira vaguely makes out something moving in the air, she squints her eyes to figure out what it is and the object swoops down just a bit to drop down soldiers that aren’t hers. It’s a sky bison she realizes, that must mean Korra is here.

She sees that one of the people that dropped down is Bolin as he lava bends a circle around him and his team to protect them from her soldiers. He wastes no time as he bends up a chunk of earth and hurls it towards the soldiers, most don’t jump out of the way in time, the force of it knocks them down and causes them to pass out. She hopes they are just passed out.

The others around him are all different kinds of benders donning makeshift armor under their shaggy and ripped clothes, Kuvira realizes with a stunned expression that it’s the reeducation camp uniforms. Her heart pounds as more of her men fall all around her, the comforting words of your father worm their way into her head as she squeezes her eyes shut. The young dictator stumbles back and pulls at the roots of her hair in frustration, she can’t let this go, can’t give up.

This is the most in control she’s ever felt, she no longer fears for her life or for her future, it was within reach and exactly what she imagined it to be. With her rule, she thought she erased any chance of reliving her younger years, alone and heartbroken as the longing for someone to hold her ate her up. Suyin’s comforting words never worked, but the sound of her men marching did.

When Kuvira opens her eyes she sees that more of her men have fallen and Bolin’s group has moved on, she surges forward to eradicate them when your hand wraps around her forearm and pulls her back. She looks over her shoulder with a snarl, not realizing it’s you.

“Don’t make me choose between you and my country.”

“It shouldn’t be a tough decision, Kuvira.”

But if she does choose this war, this overabundance of control she will be alone and heartbroken because you will leave her. You made it clear yesterday that you won’t stand by and support this anymore, that you won’t stay by her side if she chooses this path. Your fingers through her hair work too, your soothing words are like a balm to her soul and your smile eases her into this warm state of calmness.

With you, she doesn’t need the marching of her men or the rush she gets when getting someone to sign over their land. You give it to her without a second thought, you give to her because you love her and your love doesn’t come with a price or consequences.

You tug her to the trunk of a jeep and force her climb onto it. When she stands up on the hunk of metal you grab her cheeks and force her to look at the battle ahead. More and more of her men are falling as air benders use their full force and mecha suits shoot them down. Kuvira then notices the lack of mecha suits on her side and how in the middle of the field there’s a clash of green uniforms going against one another. The field lights up with all forms of bending as each man readily gives their life to her cause.

“If you surrender your men will be fine! Kuvira be the woman I know you are, stand down!” You pull her eyes away from the scene so she can look at you, look into your eyes that are full of fear and desperation.

“Bu-” Her heart begins to race, she feels like she may vomit.

“I need you Kuvira! I need you more than them, so surrender,” you bite your lip. “For us, please Vira.”

You pull her into a breathtaking kiss that's anything but romantic, your fingers squeeze a bit tighter at her cheeks as you slant your lips against her own, she shakily brings her own hands up to grip your waist in a bruising hold.

When you pull away, there’s a tear racing down your cheek as you stare into her eyes. “Please.”

“Fine!” She spits out, her throat feels like it’s closing up as her fingers begin to shake. This is everything she’s worked towards for three years, every agonizing day spent pouring herself into documents and threatening governors and mayors into submitting to her will.

Every kiss she ever gave Baatar, every time she ignored your pleading eyes.

She’s about to give it all up for you and feels panic scrap through her as if it were wrapped in barbed wire and she doesn’t know what to do, her whole body shakes as she looks around at the mess she created.

“We need to get to the fro-” Your eyes widen, trained on something behind her.

“Watch out!” You scream, pushing her out of the way. An icicle bolts through the air, it all seems so slow and yet happens so fast. Kuvira goes stumbling back, barely able to keep herself up, her gaze moved from you during the push so when she hears the sound of you letting out some sort of strangled sound her head whips over to see the icicle lodged in your lower left stomach. Your white shirt begins to turn red as blood spills out. She’s frozen in place as she watches you slowly lift a hand to touch your wound as a pained whimper leaves your lips.

That terrible noise rips her out of her frozen state and she dashes over to hold you as you begin to fall to your knees. When Kuvira looks over to see where the icicle came from she looks into the wide, terrified eyes of one of the rebels. It’s one of the ones you helped free.

Before she can even think of all the ways she’s going to kill that woman you croak out “Vira?” Her gaze flickers back to yours, tears are welling up in your eyes and Kuvira feels the warm blood begin to spill onto her hands.

“I’m gonna save you, gonna find someone to heal you.” Her voice is high pitched and cracking but she doesn’t care. “You are not going to die.” Kuvira looks around for someone to help save you, her one chance at happiness from going up in flames. She feels her vision blur as she desperately turns her head in all directions when it lands on the blue robes of the water benders fighting on Korra’s side.

One of them has to be a healer, she thinks. “I need to lay you down so I can drive,” you grip at her wrist, your eyes widening at the idea of her letting go of you. “It’s the only way I can save you, I’m so sorry.”

Suddenly she doesn’t care about anything but you, her fear of losing control has been replaced with the fear of losing you. She can’t lose you, you're the light in her life and without you, she’ll once more be the abandoned, unlovable ward of Suyin.

She quickly leans down to press a firm kiss to your forehead before gently setting you down in the trunk of the car before clumsily jumping into the front seat and turning the key. The jeep roars to life, the only problem is how her pathway is blocked.

Kuvira stands in her seat and pulls two large walls from the earth, soldiers stumble out of the way as she pushes it through the battlefield, offering a small, clear pathway for her to drive through. She floors it and hears you groaning in the background, causing her to grip the steering wheel harder.

Her hands keep slipping from being soaked in your blood, she fights with all her might to not look down at them, knowing she needs to focus on the road ahead. Her wall ends halfway so with one hand she bends two walls again, it takes a bit longer and these walls are much shorter and less sturdy but it does the trick.

Suddenly Korra appears at the end of the pathway, her hands once lit with fire extinguish at the frantic look on Kuvira’s face. She makes it to the end of the pathway, Korra jumps out of the way as Kuvira slams her foot on the brakes. The car comes to a screeching halt and without a second to lose Kuvira is scrambling out of the front seat to where she left you.

Kuvira lets out a loud, strangled sob at the sight before her. Your skin is so pale and there’s so much blood, the floor of the trunk is coated in the deep red and Kuvira bites back a sob. You look up at her, softly saying “Vira?”

Kuvira’s wet hands go to rest on your cheeks, she looks up at Korra and screams “I need a healer!” Her scream snaps Korra out of her daze and she rushes over to the jeep, when she opens the door of the trunk and sees blood begin to trickle off the edge, her heart drops.

She’s never met you before but Suyin told her enough to know you're the one who helped them. She climbs into the truck, her brown pants slowly sticking to her skin from the blood.

The icicle has melted now, leaving in its wake a gaping hole as she summons water from one of the vats they brought for the benders and encases her hands in it. She’s only ever healed herself and it was never something so severe.

“Please,” Kuvira says to the avatar, her wet words scraping out of her throat as she continues to cry. “Please save her.” Korra nods, keeping her gaze on your wound as her hands begin to glow and hover over the gaping hole.

Neither of them notices how the fight has halted, Kuvira’s soldiers waiting for her to end the avatar due to how close they are. Their leader begins to sob as she desperately holds your neck so she can lift your head and set it on her lap. The metal probably isn’t very comfortable. Your cheeks and neck now have bloody handprints on them as Kuvira repeats like a mantra “You’ll be fine, you’re gonna be fine. I love you so much, you’re gonna live.”

Korra calls over her shoulder “I need another healer!” Two waterbenders rush over, water already bent around their hands as they climb up to help. All of their hands glow as they hover over your wound, “she’s lost a lot of blood” one of them says to the other.

“Just fix it!” Kuvira demands, her heart dropping at his comment, neither of them acknowledges her as they continue to work on her soulmate, one of your hands weakly grab at her wrist so she’ll look at you, her gaze snaps to yours and she softens in an instant. “Everything’s gonna be okay, my love. Okay?”

“Okay,” you weakly reply. Kuvira rests her forehead against your own, trying to keep from screaming out. “I love you, Vira.”

“I love you too, y/n. I love you so much.” She continues to repeat herself, you look up into her eyes with a small, adoring smile.

It feels like hours go by as they work on you. Whilst the three water tribe members try to save your life, Suyin walks up with a solemn look on her face. “You need to end this, Kuvira.”

Her eyes pull away from yours to look into those of Suyin’s and she angrily spits out “I don’t care, end it. So long as Y/n lives I don’t care.” Her men at the very front of her army hear her though and all let out differing noises of surprise. “I surrender.”

Suyin begins to spit out orders on how to arrest her men, she sends the other Beifongs back to Zaofu to clean up Kuvira’s mess whilst everyone else stays on the battlefield to help her arrest and detain the earth empire loyalists. Kuvira places a kiss on your forehead and closes her eyes so she doesn’t have to watch it all be ripped from her, she focuses on your breathing as she tunes out the youngest Beifong sister.

Every once in a while you groan out in pain and Kuvira’s heart clenches with fear each time. “We’ve done all we can for now,” Korra says softly from behind her. Kuvira looks over her shoulder at the Avatar and sees Suyin walk up to the edge of the trunk with her arms crossed over her chest. “You can send me away to prison once she’s better, just don’t take me away from her just yet.”

“I made a promise to Y/n and I may not like it but I will stand by it. By ending this war you will be put under house arrest, we need Y/n awake before we can do that though.” Suyin sighs, Kuvira’s gaze shifts to your own at Suyin’s words but she finds them shut.

Frantically, fearful that you won’t ever wake up, she places two fingers on your pulse. It’s weak, but there. “She’s just sleeping, she’ll need lots of it.”

“Y/n said she’ll choose the city for herself, for now, we’ll need to cuff you and take the both of you back to Zaofu so she can get the rest she needs.”

She pulls your body up and into her arms so she can hold you, your head lulls onto her shoulder and you let out a soft groan at the movement.

She places a kiss on your forehead and closes her eyes as she hears orders being given by the younger Beifong sister. She doesn’t listen, too focused on your breathing to care. She has willingly given up her army for you, and she’d do it again if it means saving your life.

#kuvira #kuvira x reader #kuvira/reader #kuvira fanfic #lok fanfic #legend of korra fanfic #legend of korra #lok #fanfic #the great divide

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wizardofrozz · 2 years

Text

Echoy’la

Din Djarin x OFC (Jocasta “Jo” Marr)

Word Count: ~3.3k

Warnings: swearing, nightmares, past character death, violence, trauma

Chapter 6

Jo POV

The first thing Jo’s brain registered was the slowly cooling mattress next to her and the ache behind her eyes. She groaned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, waiting for her brain to start accepting sensory inputs again. As her brain started to wake up, the events from the night before became clearer and her throat tightened around a sob.

///

“Baby, you have to hide,” her mother stressed, her soft hands cupping Jo’s face, brushing a strand of dark hair behind her ear.

“What about you, mama?” Jo sniffled and her bottom lip wobbled.

“I love you, my sweet girl. Never forget that,” Myri breathed, pressing a forceful kiss to her daughter’s forehead.

“Myri!” her father hissed, slipping into the alleyway. “They’re going to find us, we must go.”

“We can’t run forever, my love,” Myri sighed, petting her daughter’s hair one more time before turning to her husband. “But we can give her a chance, Palo.” Jo’s father looked down at her, his hazel eyes glistening with tears as he ran his fingers through Jo’s hair, giving her a shaky smile.

“Papa?” she whispered, jumping at the sound of a crash nearby.

“I love you, my little warrior,” Palo mumbled, pulling her against him. “You will do great things, Jocasta.”

“Stay hidden until they’re gone,” Myri repeated, resting her head on Palo’s shoulder. “Sula will find you if we can’t.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Jo whimpered, burying her face deeper into her father’s cloak.

“We’re so sorry,” her father whispered. And before Jo knew it, they were gone, leaving her to crawl under a dumpster to stay safe. She tried to cover her ears, but nothing could drown out the ear-piercing sounds of her parents being slaughtered.

Jo screamed until she tasted blood, shooting up in bed, clutching the blanket to her chest. She tried to make sense of where she was but all she could focus on was the foul smell of rotting garbage and the echoes of her parents’ voices. She let out another hoarse scream when the door at her feet flew open, flooding the small space with light and a figure towering over her. Jo scrambled to the back of the bunk, whimpering as her mind tried to separate reality from a memory.

“Jo?” The soft, staticky voice caught her attention, igniting something familiar in her and she slowly lifted her head. More light washed over the bunk, and she looked down, blinking at the figure now crouching in the doorway. “It’s okay. It’s just me.” Jo’s mind started to piece her surroundings together and she sagged against the wall, her eyes landing on Mando again.

“Hey,” she breathed, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. Jo pulled them away when she felt something cold and realized she had been crying; her hands fell away, and she dropped her head.

“Jo,” Mando whispered again, tentatively rising enough to sit on the edge of the mattress.

“Sorry, Maker, I’m so sorry,” Jo rushed, realizing she must’ve given him a fucking heart attack.

“Don’t apologize,” he replied gently, shaking his head. “What happened?”

“I, uh, had a nightmare,” Jo croaked, curling in on herself. Mando shifted, his hands fidgeting in his lap as he tipped his head from side to side like he was cracking his neck. “It was so vivid.”

“What can I do to help?” he asked, and Jo could feel his eyes on her. She looked up at him and she knew exactly what she needed but she had no idea how to ask for her. Jo had never asked for help like this, but it was all she craved at that moment.

“C-can…I think…” Jo stumbled over her words, looking between him and the spot next to her on the bunk, and Mando’s head tipped to the side briefly. He seemed to think for a moment before letting out a long, shaky sigh and reaching for his left shoulder. “What are you doing?” Mando didn’t answer, just continued to feel around the edge of the pauldron before pausing; the metal fell into his hand, and he reached behind him to set it in the spot he had sat when they shared dinner. Jo’s eyes widened, her mouth opening and closing like a fish, but she couldn’t find anything to say. The chest plate joined his pauldron and then he got to his knees, crawling closer to her.

“Move over,” he ordered gently, tapping her leg. Jo was in shock, but she complied regardless, shifting closer to the storage panel next to her. Mando twisted around and plopped down at her side, stretching his legs out before turning his helmet towards her. “Is this okay?” Jo’s eyes started to water again, and she rolled her lips into her mouth, nodding faintly.

He let out a soft, almost relaxed sigh, and melted against the wall, keeping his visor trained towards her. It took Jo a few minutes to find the courage to lean her head against his shoulder; it wasn’t lost on her that she was feeling him, not the unforgiving metal she was used to. She felt his helmet rest against her hair, and she started to unwind, letting the tears roll down her face.

“I can still hear them,” Jo whispered, her voice raw and broken. “I can still hear them screaming.”

“Your parents.” His voice was so soft the modulator didn’t catch it and Jo got to hear the unfiltered hum of his voice above her. “Can I ask what happened?” She squeezed her eyes shut and took a deep breath, trying to steady herself.

“My father was a slicer for the Republic before he met my mother. He wanted a life with her, so he retired and went to live on Corvus with her,” Jo whispered, pressing her face into Mando’s arm.

“What was his name?” he asked, surprising her.

“What?”

“I know your mother’s name, Myri, but not his,” he explained, reaching over with the hand Jo wasn’t clinging to and rubbing her arm.

“Palo,” Jo breathed, hiccuping around a sob. “M-my mother was a tailor and she taught him how to sew so they could open a stand in our village.” Jo paused, wiping at her eyes and Mando just sat silently, letting her go at her own pace. “I-I can still remember him grumbling when people liked my mama’s clothes better,” Jo chuckled, smiling to herself. “She used to poke fun at him for it.”

“I see where you get that from,” Mando chuckled, the sound floating from under his helmet.

“Learned from the best,” Jo giggled, wiping at her face again. “We were…happy.” Jo took a deep breath, the flicker of happiness fading as she started again. “I was too young to understand what was happening, but I knew a group of pirates that showed up on Corvus wanted my father to work for them. He refused of course but I guess they threatened me and my mother, so he agreed until he couldn’t take it anymore.” Jo had to stop, the phantom screams still floating in the back of her mind, and she choked back a sob.

“It’s okay,” Mando hummed, his warm hand still rubbing her bare forearm.

“I was seven when he crossed them. I don’t know what he did but whatever it was caused them a lot of grief. We ran but we could never get far enough fast enough. My father wanted to keep running but my mother knew we’d never outrun them. They forced me to hide under a dumpster and they tried to fight them off, but it was no use. I-I listened to th-them…”

“Sh,” he hummed when Jo’s voice cracked, and she shook against his side. Mando slowly pulled his arm out from between them, wrapping it around her shoulders and pulling her against his chest. “That’s enough.” Mando slowly slid them down the wall, shifting so his feet stuck out of the bunk, so they were facing each other, his arms still holding her close.

“I miss them,” Jo cried, hiding her face in his chest, suddenly glad he removed his chest plate. “I know it’s been a long time, but I never got to know them.”

“I still miss my parents too,” Mando whispered. Jo leaned back to look up at him, finding his helmet already bent towards her.

“How?” was all Jo could manage but she was sure Mando would get what she meant.

“A droid army attacked our village when I was a boy,” he started, running his palm mindlessly over Jo’s back. “My parents hid me in a storage shed, hoping I’d be safe.”

“That’s how the Mandalorians found you,” Jo filled in, her constant trail of tears finally stopping.

“A droid almost killed me too, but they saved my life,” he finished softly, dragging his hand up to the back of Jo’s neck. Her lips pulled up into a shaky smile as she rested a hand over his heart, letting the strong, steady thump soothe her.

“Thank you,” Jo whispered. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“Thank you for trusting me first,” he countered, squeezing her neck lightly. They laid there in silence until Jo’s eyes started to grow heavy and she felt bad for keeping him cramped in the small space.

“You don’t have to stay,” she mumbled, forcing her eyes open to look into his dark visor. “I’m okay now.”

“Sleep, cyar’ika,” Mando hummed, his voice heavy with sleep. Jo smiled sleepily up at him before tucking her head under his chin and wrapping her arm around his waist. She fell asleep to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

///

Jo sat up, blinking her gritty eyes, and crawled into the hull, groaning as she stretched her tight limbs, desperate to get away from the memory of her nightmare. She moved silently up the ladder, immediately finding Mando in the pilot’s chair and she chuckled to herself. His helmet was hanging forward, his arms loosely wrapped around the sleeping child in his lap, and quiet snores filtered through his modulator.

Jo moved closer and rested her chin on the top of his chair as quietly as she could. Mando’s chest rose and fell, gently lifting the kid sprawled across him, and Jo was overwhelmed with how adorable the pair looked. She laughed to herself, never thinking she’d find a fearsome bounty hunter and a telekinetic green baby adorable but apparently things change. She let out a soft sigh, her eyes landing on the strained lines of Mando’s neck; she worried her bottom lip between her teeth before reaching forward.

Jo’s fingers barely brushed his neck guard, and she froze, waiting to see if he moved; when he stayed still, she pressed her thumbs below the bone at the base of his neck. Mando’s breathing hitched but she continued to gently massage the area, slowly moving out towards his shoulders. She rubbed circles along his tight trap muscles, forcing a low groan from him, his helmet bobbing slightly as he came to.

“What’re you doing?” he rumbled, turning his head slightly but leaving it bowed. Jo tried not to shiver at the deep, rough timbre of his voice and doubled down on working out the knots under her fingers.

“Sleeping like this can’t be comfortable,” she murmured, pressing her mouth into the material of the chair.

“Used t’it,” Mando slurred, the modulator making the words run together.

“Oh yeah?” Jo challenged softly, pressing on a particularly tight knot at the base of his neck. His shoulder’s tensed, a loud groan echoing through the cockpit, and Jo’s face flushed, trying to push down her not so innocent thoughts about the sound. “Doesn’t seem like it to me.”

“Says you,” Mando mumbled, his upper body turning to jelly under her hands.

“Fine,” she hummed, lifting her hands away.

“No, wait,” Mando whined sleepily, his head lifting a few inches. Jo giggled but complied, bringing her hands back to rub out the tension in his shoulders, smiling at the soft sigh that fell from under his helmet. Her eyes wandered lazily over the control panel, a slow blinking light catching her attention.

“You have a holo,” Jo mumbled, flickering her eyes back to his helmet.

“Don’t care,” he grumbled.

“Come on, it could be important,” Jo urged, running her hands over his shoulders before standing straight again. Mando made a wounded sound, lifting his head to stare up at her, and a soft smile lifted the corner of her lips. With a spurt of confidence, Jo leaned down and pressed a quick kiss just above the black T that was angled up at her; she quickly turned away to face the control panel, hiding the heat in her cheeks. She could still see Mando from the corner of her eye and her heart skipped when he reached up, gently brushing his gloved fingers against his helmet.

“Jo,” he breathed, drawing her attention.

“Was that okay?” she whispered, suddenly feeling shy, ducking her head. Mando just looked at her for a moment, his hand still touching his helmet, and the longer the silence stretched on, the more nervous Jo got. Slowly, he lowered his hand, tentatively reaching for her, offering her his open palm; her eyes flickered between his hand and his visor before timidly placing her hand in his. Jo watched his fingers curl around her hand, and she stumbled slightly when he gently tugged her closer, his helmet tipping back to hold her gaze.

“This okay?” he rumbled, squeezing her hand. Jo nodded, her lips parting when he curled his other arm around the kid, lifting the still sleeping child off his chest. Mando released her hand and reached around her back to direct her between his spread legs. She couldn’t stop the gasp that forced its way out when he pulled her onto his lap; Jo stiffened briefly before taking a deep breath and repositioning herself. She was careful not to hit the kid as she rested her legs over the cold beskar on Mando’s thigh; his arm came around her back, his hand resting on her hip lightly. Mando brought the kid closer, gently setting him in Jo’s lap before putting his hand on her knee, letting out a long breath.

“Relax,” he murmured, running his hand over the loose fabric of her pants. Jo sucked in a deep breath before relaxing into his chest, resting her head against his broad shoulder, unable to stop the small smile lifting her lips. “Are you okay…a-after last night?”

“Yeah,” Jo sighed, watching the kid’s ear twitch.

“I-I didn’t want to leave, but someone wasn’t going to be ignored,” Mando huffed, looking down at the little menace. The kid wiggled around in her lap like he knew they were talking about him; their heads tipping down to watch him crawl around, half-asleep, climbing higher on Jo’s chest. Mando snorted when the kid rested his head against the swell of Jo’s chest and fell back asleep.

“Of course,” Jo chuckled, shaking her head.

“Smart kid,” Mando commented. Jo’s mouth dropped open, and she looked up at him, her lips turning up at the corners.

“Mando,” she teased, lightly hitting his chest plate.

“What? I’m not blind,” he countered, tilting his head away from her.

“Pretty sure even if you were blind you couldn’t miss them,” Jo joked, absently rubbing the child’s back. His quick, sharp laugh surprised her, and her stomach fluttered when she realized she could faintly hear the real sound mixing with the modulated version, just like the night before. “I like your laugh.” Mando stiffened, his helmet ducking down and Jo wondered if he was blushing.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, his hand stilling on her leg.

“Times like these make me wonder what you look like.” Jo’s face fell when she realized she said that out loud, snapping her head up to stare at him. “Maker, I’m so sorry that was…”

“What do you picture?” he cut in, surprisingly sounding unbothered by her admission.

“Uh, honestly?” she asked, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Mando nodded, his eyes boring into her face as he waited patiently. “I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean I wonder but I never came up with a mental image because it - it doesn’t matter to me,” Jo continued with a shrug. “I-I like who you are as a person.”

“Most people don’t feel that way,” Mando noted, his hand coming to rest on her knee again.

“I’m not most people,” Jo huffed, her lips twitching up.

“And that’s why I like you,” he whispered, almost too soft for her to hear as his thumb absently drew circles on her knee, warming the fabric. Jo’s stomach twisted and she had to look away from him; she cleared her throat and took a deep breath before turning back to him.

“I have wondered what color your eyes are though,” Jo commented, her eyes flickering around the unforgiving T trained on her.

“Do you want to know?” he asked, tilting his head. Jo stared at him for a moment and found her answer easily; if she found out what color his eyes were it would be because she saw them. If he still wanted her to truly see him, then she’d know.

“No.” He hummed, faintly nodding his head and tugged her back against his chest. Jo smiled when the side of his helmet rested against her head. “You should listen to the holo,” Jo sighed, giggling when she heard the groan in his chest.

“Hit the button,” he huffed, loosening his hold on her so she could lean forward. Jo settled back into his lap, her heart fluttering when she wrapped her brain around the fact Mando was holding her and gently caressing her knee. She turned her head so she could see the holo, desperately trying to force herself to focus when it flickered to life, and she let out a soft ‘huh’ when she immediately recognized the blue figure.

“Karga?” Jo glanced up at Mando, but he was focused on the message, so she turned back to listen as well. They listened to Karga’s proposition in tense silence until the hologram flickered before disappearing. Mando sighed heavily, dropping his head back against the seat; Jo looked down at the kid sleeping on her chest, her brain fighting itself on what to do. She stopped her racing thoughts when she realized that it wasn’t her choice; ultimately, Mando was his protector so her opinion wouldn’t matter.

“What are you going to do?” Jo asked cautiously. Mando lifted his head with another sigh, his visor finding the kid and he just stared for a few minutes.

“What do you think?”

“Me?” Jo squeaked, leaning back to get a better look at him. “You want my opinion?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Mando wondered, his head cocking to the side.

“He’s your foundling,” Jo mumbled with a shrug, dropping her eyes.

“And he’s not yours too?” Jo squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back the urge to cry because, yes, in her mind, he was hers too but hearing Mando say it made it feel real.

“Yes,” she breathed, cracking her eyes open to look at the top of his head.

“I can see how much you care about him,” Mando added. Jo jumped when one of his fingers pressed under her chin, urging her to look up at him, his thumb tracing the shape of her jaw. “I want your opinion.”

“I think it’s worth it if we’re smart about it,” Jo sighed, leaning into his gentle touch.

“I agree,” he huffed, tracing her jaw to her ear before cupping her neck. “We’ll need some help though.” Jo let out a shaky breath and rested her forehead against the cheek of his helmet, her bottom lip wobbling when he turned his head, so his forehead met hers. Everything about their position was so intimate it was almost too much but the thought of pulling away was almost painful.

“What were you thinking?” she whispered. Jo rested her hand just above his chest plate and her breath hitched when his heart thumped against her fingers.

“How do you feel about going back to Sorgan?”

Chapter 7 | Masterlist

Taglist: @littlemisspascal

#din djarin #mando #the mandalorian #din djarin x ofc #mando x ofc #soft!din #din djarin x oc #mando x oc #star wars oc #grogu

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