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bridgertonbabe · 3 years ago

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Benophie Angst Drabble Pt II

Sophie seeks out Anthony in order to help Benedict

Sophie’s mind had been occupied ever since she had returned from seeing Benedict. She came back to Number Five unnoticed and was able to retrieve the bits and pieces from the market that the Bridgerton girls had asked for from her room. She had entered the drawing room and then presented them with the purchases, acting like she had just picked them up that day, and as the three girls took pleasure in their new items, Sophie remained distracted.

All she could think was of the lonely figure of Benedict and the emotional state he had been left in - by her. She had caused his misery not just from their afternoon together all those weeks ago but yet again today.

I wish I had never met you! kept replaying over and over again in her head.

The guilt was overwhelming her. She had entered his life and essentially ruined it, much in the same way she had entered her own mother’s life and ruined hers. It felt like everything Sophie touched and everyone who ever loved her fell apart under her touch. No matter how hard she tried, no matter every good deed she tried to do, nothing ever went unpunished. Perhaps she had fully deserved to have been treated cruelly by Araminta - maybe her stepmother had seen in Sophie a person who was only born to hurt people and had treated her in kind as payback.

During tea Violet asked Sophie if she was alright and she had brushed her concern off, telling the dowager viscountess she was merely intent on listening to the girls conversation. It had been an obvious lie to Violet since Eloise and Hyacinth were in the middle of a ten-minute long argument and even as their mother she didn’t wish to listen intently to their bickering. Sophie couldn’t bear Violet’s curious gaze because she knew she thoroughly didn’t deserve this woman’s care, not after what she had done to her beloved son.

That evening Number Five was hosting the Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton for dinner and after much weighing up, Sophie decided she had to tell Lord Bridgerton of his brother’s whereabouts. She knew in her heart Benedict wouldn’t reach out to his family so she was left with no other choice than to reach out to his family instead.

She waited until after dinner was finished and watched from the shadows as Anthony and Colin retired to the study for a drink. It was the most opportune time she’d get to reveal all to them so she built up the courage and knocked on the door. There was a call for her to enter so she did and closed the door after her.

“Miss Beckett.” Colin greeted with surprise as his brother furrowed his brows in bemusement.

“Lord Bridgerton. Mr. Bridgerton.” she bobbed in greeting.

“How might we be of service?” Anthony asked and got up from his chair, placing his drink down.

She swallowed and bravely looked him in the eye. “Your brother is holed up in a room in Bloomsbury.”

The reaction was immediate; Colin jumped right up from his chair and Anthony’s face contorted with incredulity.

“Bloomsbury?” Anthony echoed in disbelief.

Sophie nodded. “He rents a room there. For his art.”

The brothers exchanged a look of shock before turning back to Sophie.

“And has he been there this entire time?” Colin enquired and Sophie nodded. “Working on his art?” he followed up as he tried to make sense of it all.

Sophie hesitated as she thought back on the broken canvases, ripped up sketchings, and general disarray of art supplies thrown about Benedict’s room.

“I... I believe so.” she nodded slowly.

To an extent she was being truthful as it did appear Benedict had at least been trying to work on his art during his absence. Whether or not it had been his actual goal or whether it had been his attempt to distract himself from her was another matter entirely.

“Well then why didn’t he just say?” Anthony grumbled. “Why not tell any of us he was locking himself away to work on his pretty pictures?” he growled irritably, though Sophie was more focused on his choice of words. Pretty pictures. Benedict had uttered the exact same words earlier on. “If he wants to act the tortured artist then so be it - but it doesn’t give him the right to torture the rest of us by not informing us of his plans! God, Colin, what on earth are we going to do with him?”

“Have you considered supporting him?”

Anthony looked up and Colin clocked his head; both of them looking at Sophie... who had just uttered the last question.

“I beg your pardon?” Anthony sputtered.

Sophie stilled. She hadn’t meant to say anything. In fact she believed she had simply thought the question - it wasn’t something she meant to speak aloud. However she was here now in the moment and if nobody else was going to put Benedict’s best interests first than she might as voice them herself.

“Have you tried supporting him? Benedict? With his artistic pursuits?” she pressed.

Anthony was flabbergasted. “I’ll have you know I helped him get into an art academy,” he began to inform her.

“With a generous donation?” she supplied and Anthony silenced, stunned that his sisters’ lady’s maid should be aware of such a transaction. “I admit it was considerate of you - but did you ever stop to think that Benedict wanted to prove he could be accepted into the academy on his own merit? That he wanted to be selected not because of his family name or status or wealth, but purely for his talent and the potential he has? You meant well, Lord Bridgerton, but when the reason for his acceptance was revealed to him by his peers it made him feel like a joke. That no one there took him seriously. That you never believed in him enough to gain a place off his own back.”

“Of course I believe in him!” Anthony raised his voice in annoyance. “I recognise the talent my brother has! But I also know he struggles to apply himself with the potential he has,”

“And you believe referring to his art as doodles and pretty pictures is a way to encourage him?” Sophie challenged. “You don’t see how that might make him believe you see him as nothing but a joke? How his ambitions are nothing to take too seriously?”

“That is nothing but brotherly teasing,” Anthony argued.

“Teasing which makes Benedict believe he’s set up to do nothing but fail in his endeavours.” Sophie cut him off. “All he wants is to be seen - properly - not just in the eyes of society but within his own family. He’s more than a second son, he’s more than the brother who cracks jokes to amuse others, he’s more than Bridgerton Number Two; he is Benedict. He has the soul of an artist and the heart of a poet and all he wants is to be valued for those immeasurable qualities. He just wants to feel accepted, to be assured, to belong... and he’s hurting so badly because he believes in all of your eyes he is nothing but a disappointment.”

Her impassioned speech had shocked the brothers into silence, neither one sure what to make of everything she had just declared.

“He is not in a good place right now.” she exhaled worriedly. “I fear he might be on the verge of drinking himself to death, the way he’s going.” she shook her head. “He really needs your support right now. He needs his family. He needs to be reminded just how much he means to everyone and just how loved he is. He cannot recognise just how lucky he is to have such a loving family as yours... but you need to recognise in turn that his talent, his passion, his love in life... he needs to be supported.”

The room was still for a few moments and then Anthony got up from leaning against the desk and began pulling on his jacket.

“He means a lot to you.” Colin suddenly said out of nowhere, his shrewd eyes resting on Sophie. “And you must mean a lot to him, for him to share all of his feelings with you.”

Anthony’s eyes landed on her too and she felt very scrutinised. She knew neither one was about to downright accuse her of what she was sure they could confidently assume. Neither one had yet to even bother asking how she knew where Benedict was - the fact they weren’t acknowledging it spoke volumes. She didn’t want to be silent and allow them to draw their conclusions, and she certainly didn’t want them thinking she was merely a maid enjoying their brother’s company.

“He saved me.” she blurted out. “I... I used to work for the Cavenders in Wiltshire,” she started and she noticed the way they both grimaced at the mention of the family name, “and the younger Mr. Cavender had it in his mind that he could do whatever he wanted with me as the maid... at a party he held one night I decided to make my escape because I knew... I knew it would only be a matter of time before he... tried it. But he found me, cornered me, brought along a couple of his friends too... I really thought...” she swallowed, her eyes trained on the ground, not wanting the Bridgerton brothers to see how truly scared she was even now as she recounted her story, “I really thought that was it... I just hoped it would have been over with quickly... but then Benedict appeared, told them where to go, and insisted on accompanying me home... not that I had anywhere to go but he insisted I could stay at My Cottage until I found new employment.”

“I never knew that was how you met.” Colin remarked and she noticed he had sunk back into his chair as he hung onto her every word. “I’m sorry you ever had to endure Cavender, Miss Beckett. Thank heavens Benedict came across you when he did.”

“I thank my lucky stars everyday that he found me.” she admitted. “But when we got back to My Cottage we had gotten caught in the wind and the rain and it was clear right away that Benedict had fallen sick. I stayed by his bedside and tended to him... I didn’t wish for him to be alone in his state, and besides he had rescued me in my hour of need; the least I could do was nurse him throughout his. He had a high fever but it eventually broke and I was so relieved... I would hate for anything to have happened to him, especially after he had been so valiant in saving me... so I stayed with him throughout his recovery and kept him company and slowly but surely we became friends. It was a nice break, to be able to just talk and get to know a person without any expectations and standards... he showed me his sketchings, I would read Lord Byron to him, and we just felt at ease in the companionship we shared... I care greatly for him. He is such a good man but he hides how he feels from everyone else... I just wish for him to be seen in the way in which he longs to be. That is all.”

She had been so lost in her fond memories of the time she spent at My Cottage with Benedict that she missed the dawning realisations that appeared across his brothers faces. Neither one said anything but she had inadvertently confirmed something which they had both been quietly ruminating on for the last few weeks, ever since Benedict had reappeared from Wiltshire with her in tow.

“We shall make haste to see to him now.” Anthony announced and pulled on the rest of his jacket. “Thank you, Miss Beckett, for letting us know.”

“And I’m sorry!” she squeaked out much to his surprise. “I realise I have spoken to you, Lord Bridgerton, completely out of line and it was inexcusable of me to be so frank. I promise not to speak in the manner in which I did ever again.”

“Miss Beckett, there is nothing to apologise for. You merely told me some truths I should have thought of long ago. I have let down my brother, my best friend, ever so greatly and I regret not having noticed his suffering sooner.” he stated with earnest regret. “I thank you for being straight with me. I’m grateful he has you... as a friend to look out for him. Thank you for caring for him.”

“Of course.” she gulped.

“Thank you, Miss Beckett.” Colin nodded also. “And before we leave, might I ask; is our brother in need of a shower?”

“Greatly so.” she confirmed.

Colin and Anthony pulled displeased faces at one another from her response (if only they knew the smell they had ahead of them) before both bowing to her and exiting the office.

Sophie finally let out a breath of relief, assured in the knowledge that Benedict was to be reunited with his family and hopefully be led down the straight and narrow path. His brothers seemed desperate to see to him and she could only hope they would provide him with the much needed love and support that Benedict was in dire need of... the very love and support she could never give him.

She turned to leave to return to her bedroom until she was summoned to help the girls change for bed when she paused, glancing at the discarded glass of alcohol Anthony had left behind. Knowing she’d be kept awake all night with her incessant thoughts of Benedict, she grabbed the glass and knocked down what little drink remained. She despised the liquid as it burned down her throat but with any luck it would aid her in falling asleep that night - she would need all the help she could get to rid her mind of the devastated way Benedict had begged her to love him.

#bridgerton #bridgerton drabble #benophie #sophie beckett #anthony bridgerton #colin bridgerton #aofag

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strawberrymilkgeorge · 4 years ago

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Part Ten. Faces

warnings: swearing, hate comments word count: 4.1k (not including pics)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: sorry its late!!!! this feels rushed but i was just too excited to get to some parts!!! also i have had some parts written out for SO long that they dont even feel cute to me anymore so im literally praying to every deity rn that you guys think its cute lmao anyway enjoy!!!!

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It had been about a week since Karl's slip up but everything was already more normal than Y/n had expected it to be. Of course, George, Sapnap and Quackity were all very understanding and gave her space while simultaneously reassuring her that she was safe with them. She fully believed it too, she knew she was safe with them and they weren't going to tell anyone her name.

The one unusual thing was now she had a heavy guilt, like someone dropped another sandbag in her stomach, every time Dream texted her. If the others knew, it was only fair that she tell him her name too, right? I mean, it's Dream. Dream! The boy who had quickly slipped his way into her life and, though she wouldn't admit it to Karl or Naomi, her heart.

But how? Does she just come right out and say it or wait until it gets brought up? She hadn't practiced telling anyone her name because she wasn't planning on doing it any time soon. Though, maybe she should have been seeing as she was going to see them all in person in a little over a month.

Regardless of the guilt, Y/n had other things to worry about today; Quackity was coming to visit. Karl had picked him up from the airport and the two of them spent all day catching up and doing who knows what but Y/n still hadn't met him. She was scared. She wasn't scared of Quackity, but scared because it was the first time one of her online friends would be able to put a face to her name and voice.

Y/n shuffled across her living room rug and reached for her phone on the coffee table, looking for some sort of distraction while she waited for them to arrive.

Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled, shaking her head as she threw her phone on the couch. Okay, he's right. It's gonna be fine. It's gonna be great. It's just Quackity. If he said anything rude or annoying or anything she could literally just step on him like a bug.

A sharp knock on the front door of her apartment snapped her back into reality. She shook her limbs of nervousness as she made her way to the door, two familiar voices begging to be acknowledged from the other side.

"Let us iiinnn!! Y/nnn!!!!" Karl whined.

After countless times asking the same question, she finally convinced Karl that she was okay with him using her real name in front of Quackity. He clearly still felt guilty about telling the boys her name, asking her multiple times in different ways whether he should call her Y/n or Bugsy in front of the guest. She finally got it through his head that she didn't mind either way.

"Hold on!" she yelled back. She unlocked the door and swung it open to see Karl and Quackity. "So impatient."

"Holy shit, you are tall! Goddammit, I thought that was a joke!"

Y/n laughed shyly at the greeting, looking at Quackity like he was crazy. "Hello to you too. Tried to warn you, dude."

"Yeah but, damn! You're tall and attractive, what the hell?"

"Dude," she said with a warning in her voice. She thought the flirting on Twitter was funny, but in real life she got embarrassed easier and wasn't a fan. "I'm about to kick you out of my house before I even let you in."

This was weird, meeting Quackity before meeting some of her other friends. She loved Quackity, but she had known George much longer and Sapnap even before that. There was no problem with meeting Quackity, she just had no idea how to act since she felt like she hardly knew him.

"Am I allowed to tell people that you're hot?" he asked as he fell on her couch, Karl following right after.

"Quackity!" Y/n yelled, her face heating up at a compliment. "Seriously?"

Karl cackled and shoved Quackity. "Shut up, Alex! No, you're not allowed!"

"Sorry, is that compliment reserved for Dream?" He cackled at his own joke and Y/n's face heated up even more.

"I seriously will kick you out of my house."

"You wanna be flirty on main but not in real life?" Quackity scoffed.

"I'm not flirty on main, you are!" she laughed. "Seriously, don't."

"Okay, sorry, I'll stop," Quackity promised with a laugh in his words.

The three of them fell into easy conversation, mostly because Karl and Quackity were already comfortable around each other at this point. They eventually decided to go to the mall, just to mess around and do something.

*reminder: covid doesn't exist in this fic bc we only want happy things so ignore their masks :P*

Y/n frowned as she unlocked her front door, staring at her phone. She had been so happy with all the fans freaking out about the meetup so she looked at the trending list, expecting to see a flood of keyboard smashes and happiness, but that's not all she ended up seeing. BUGKARLITY was trending, so she scrolled through the tweets and was upset to see not all of them were positive. In fact, when she typed her name in the search bar, lots of the tweets using her name were rather mean.

A few that stuck in her head called her an attention whore and said that her friends only flirted with her because she paid them too. Who on earth would even do that? Some hurt way more than others but she tried to push them aside. It wasn't like this was the first time she had seen comments like this, but they had only gotten worse since her Minecraft date with Dream. She was worried it was cause more hate for her friends and the last thing she wanted was to be the cause of their own hate.

She typed several different messages to Dream, deleting them all after she reread them. She felt like she had to request the same thing from him in a different way. Maybe because she felt like his words meant more, even if he really was just joking like the rest of them. She decided to call him instead of texting.

"Hi!" he chirped happily from the other end.

"Hi, Dream," she said as her chest filled with something warm at the sound of his voice. "How are you doing?"

"Good," he dragged out the word. "How are you?"

"Okay."

"Just okay? What's up?"

"Um," she started, immediately forgetting the words she decided she'd use. "I just... would you mind, uh, not flirting with me so much on, like, Twitter and streams and stuff like that?"

There was a silence before Dream's frantically apologetic words came through. "Yes, of course, oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. If I had known I was making you uncomfortable, I wouldn't have—"

"Wait, no," she interrupted but he must not have heard.

"—said things like... oh gosh. Bug, I'm really sorry—"

"Dream!" she raised her voice, getting him to stop ranting. "You don't make me uncomfortable."

"Oh. Really?"

"Of course not. I actually think it's really..." Cute? Adorable? Endearing? "funny," she decided.

"Oh. Then why...?"

She sighed heavily and explained what she told the others. "So, yeah. I just don't want you guys getting hate because of me so I figure if you stop then... you know."

"Bug..." he said gently. "I'm really sorry. I promise you that I don't—none of us think those things about you."

"I know."

"No, seriously," he said, clearly not believing her. "You need to understand that I..." he paused. "I mean what I say. Always."

Always? she thought. There's a few things he's said that certainly he didn't really mean... like calling her cute?

"I don't joke around like that unless I want to. I wouldn't say things like I say to you unless I really, really, genuinely considered you a close friend and felt comfortable around you. And I do."

Her heart swelled. "Thanks, Dream. I just... maybe don't do it so much for right now? Online, at least," she clarified, not wanting to deprive herself completely of Dream's flirting.

"Yeah, if that's what you want, of course."

"Well, I don't want you to stop flirting with me but, yeah."

He chuckled. "Oh, you do like when I flirt with you?"

She hummed and changed the subject. "Did I interrupt you doing anything?"

"No," his teasing voice dropped and was back to his regular self. "I'm just editing the video we filmed the other day."

"Oh, the 'Minecraft, but you can't touch the floor'?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh," she said, not meaning to sound disappointed. "I'll let you get back to it—"

"No. I mean, you can stay on the phone. Unless you're busy."

She smiled and put her phone on speaker and set it next to her foot on the floor. "I was just gonna paint. So I can stay."

Before she knew it, almost two hours had passed of them sitting in comfortable silence, occasionally speaking to share something with the other before going back to their tasks. It was comforting knowing she didn’t need to speak constantly and could just hang out with Dream.

Y/n's phone rested on the floor next to her, Dream on speakerphone on the other end, only the sounds of his keyboard clicking letting her know he hadn't fallen asleep or hung up. She wasn't sure when they started doing this, staying on the phone even when they had nothing to talk about, but they had done it a few times before. They had talked on the phone and Discord many times but it was usually always with purpose, not usually this silently-enjoying-each-others-presence nonsense. Who was she kidding calling it nonsense, she enjoyed it an embarrassingly insane amount.

She repositioned so she was laying on her stomach as she finished sketching an image that was in her mind.

"Hey, you still there?" Dream asked softly.

"Yeah. Sorry, am I taking away from your sitting in silence time with George?" she joked.

Dream chuckled lightly. "Nah, you're more fun. I was just seeing if you ditched me for Karl yet."

"Nah, you're more fun," she mimed truthfully. "But I'm very focused on this drawing."

"Can I see it when you're done?"

"Don't expect too much. It looks bad."

"If you don't tell me what it is, I can't know how accurate or inaccurate it is."

"Very true..." she trailed off, holding the canvas further away to examine it all at once. She wanted the sketch to be perfect before she made permanent choices with paint. She enjoyed the serenity they maintained even when talking, voices low and delicate like they were keeping secrets but not quite whispering. "Are you almost done editing your video from the other day?"

"Sorta. I'm at the part where you and Sapnap almost died laughing because a ghast knocked George into lava and then Sapnap laughed so hard he fell into lava."

She chuckled, remembering the situation vividly. "That was so funny. The way George screams is so funny."

"Let Naomi know that," he mumbled, causing Y/n to gasp.

"Dream!" she laughed loudly and he joined.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry. It's true though."

"Disgusting!"

A distant voice sounded on the other end and she assumed it was Sapnap. "What do you want for dinner?"

Dream responded with a soft, "Nothing, I'm good."

"Are you talking to Bugsy?"

He must have responded physically because the next sound was Sapnap's very clear, much more lively voice speaking directly into the phone. "Hi, Bugsy!"

"Hi, Sapnap!"

"Can you tell Dream to eat some damn food? This man literally hasn't eaten a single thing all goddamn day."

"Dream," Y/n scolded slowly. "Please eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"I'm not showing you my painting until you eat."

A door closed on the other end and she took that as a sign that Sapnap had left.

"I don't wanna see it anyway. It's probably trash."

"Take that back!" she gasped lightly. She looked at the canvas as she grabbed the first paint color and laughed. It was only a sketch and it was already trash. "Fine, then I won't go on the trip if you don't eat in the next ten minutes."

"That's punishing yourself too though."

"Who says I want to see you?" she asked.

"I never said anything about not seeing me being the punishment."

She had been caught. "It was implied."

"Sure it was."

"It's true though. Who says I wanna see your stupid face?"

He didn't say anything, but an incoming FaceTime call lit up Y/n's phone. A FaceTime call from him.

Her smile dropped. "Clay?"

"Answer it," his voice was lower and her heart started beating faster. Was he really about to show her his face to prove a point? Reveal his biggest secret that only a few close friends knew? To her of all people? She made sure she couldn't be seen in the small window and pressed accept, the voice call ending and the FaceTime call starting.

To her surprise, what came into view wasn't his face, but the logo of the hoodie he was wearing, the simple smile of his merch taunting her. She laughed, the anxiety slowly fading away as it was replaced with a heavy feeling in her stomach. Was she disappointed? Maybe a little, but he teased her into believing she would see him.

"Oh, wow! Dream face reveal! He looks just like his icon, no way!!!"

His chest moved up and down as he laughed, not moving the camera away. "You heard it here first, guys! You've known my face all along, the logo is actually my face!"

She laughed and returned to painting, not paying any more attention to her phone since he was now also showing his ceiling, a small corner of his monitor in frame but nothing else. "I mean it though, if you don't eat, I'm going to be so mad I won't even want to be friends anymore. Or you'll die from malnourishment before we get the chance to meet."

"I doubt it. I'm just not hungry."

"Whatever."

"Oh, hey, so you met Quackity today. How was it?"

"Very scary."

"Yeah?" he asked sympathetically, urging her to explain if she wanted.

"Yeah. But it turned out okay! He didn't act any different so it was fine. It was mostly just awkward. He's also so freaking loud. You would not believe how much louder he and Karl get when they're together."

"I can imagine. Aren't they doing a stream right now or something?"

"Yeah, I think so. I don't wanna watch though, I've had enough of them for the month."

Dream laughed. "How will you deal with them together for New Years'? It'll be for like two weeks."

"Who knows if I'll actually go?"

"Wait, what?" he asked abruptly, not even bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice. His keyboard stopped clicking and she could picture him staring at his phone as if looking at her. "Of course you're going."

"Not if you don't eat food! You have, like, 3 minutes to eat something until I officially am busy doing other things whenever the trip is."

Dream groaned and clicked a few things on his computer before the image on the screen became blurry as he walked through the house, still pointing it at the ceiling. She looked away again and kept painting.

"Quackity's really funny though," she continued. "It was super awkward at first but it was fun to have someone else to help me make fun of Karl."

"Wait, Bug," Dream called out over the sound of wrappers crinkling.

"Hm?" She hummed, continuing to paint.

"Bug," his voice was much softer and he sounded nervous.

She looked at her screen and dropped the paintbrush as she focused on what she saw, grabbing her phone and holding it closer to her face so she could see, still making sure she wasn't in view. All the anxiety from the beginning of the FaceTime suddenly came back and hit her like a truck. Sitting on her screen, waiting to be seen, was Dream. His hood was up, tufts of blonde hair sticking out, and he was standing with his back towards a dark room, the dim light from his pantry making his face just visible.

He held up a cookie in front of his actual, real face. "Are you watching?"

"Y-yea... I... Yeah. I'm watching. Is that really you?"

He nodded once before shoving the cookie in his mouth. "There, I consumed food," he announced, his voice muffled by the cookie. "Now you're legally obligated to come."

"I—What? CLAY! WHAT?"

"What?" he asked innocently as he chewed, walking back to his room and still holding the phone up to show his face. His room light was on, making his face much more visible. If Y/n thought he was attractive in the harsh pantry light, he must have looked like a god in his room lighting, even as pixelated as he was due to the quality of FaceTime. He fell on his bed and Y/n could only gape at his features. He slumped against his headboard, surrounded by roughly a thousand pillows, sporting a small, shy smile as he stared at the screen. "Bug, what?"

She opened her mouth but no words came out. Needless to say, he was unbelievably handsome. Part of the speechlessness was from the shock that he showed his face out of the blue, but obviously, the majority of it was that he was pretty much the most attractive person she'd ever seen. It should be illegal for someone to look that good in a hoodie, especially when pixelated.

"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "Wanna take back what you said earlier?" He bit into another cookie.

"W-what did I say earlier?" Why was she stuttering???

"You said you don't wanna see me and that I'm ugly," he teased.

She paused for too many seconds too long before finally muttering, "you arrogant son of a bitch." He laughed loudly at that.

His eyes crinkled and he threw his head back. So that's what he looks like when he wheezes, she thought to herself, pretty.

Dream shuffled his position on his bed and rested his head on one of his hands. He looked so comfy. "Why are you so quiet, weirdo?" he mumbled.

She set her phone back down and touched her cheeks with her hands and looked away for a moment, grounding herself to the real world for a second. She couldn't process her thoughts when she was staring at a man as gorgeous as Clay. "I don't know, maybe because you gave me no warning before showing me your face? Or because you failed to mention that you're incredibly hot?"

She was so glad she had looked back at her phone or else she would have missed the glorious sight of his cheeks turning bright red before he turned the camera back to his ceiling. "Oh my gosh."

"Aw cute, I made you blush."

"Shut up," he mumbled. "You threatened to not come if I didn't eat something!"

"You didn't have to—you showed me your freaking face just to prove you ate a cookie!! DREAM! I would have believed you if you just said you ate something!" she laughed breathlessly, staring at the phone now for a chance to see him again. "I was joking anyway!"

"Sure you were."

"I was."

"Well, oh well. You deserved to see me anyway."

"Oh, I deserve to see you?" She laughed. "How big is your ego?"

"You know what I meant," he groaned. "You got doxxed by Karl and you met Quackity in person. And you've clearly had a bad day because of all the hate and stuff. You've done a lot of stressful things recently and you deserved to be let in on a secret too."

He was so sweet. Like, tooth-rotting, Halloween candy stash hidden under a kid's bed, upset tummy sweet. She also couldn't get over the fact that he was a million times cuter when he was shy like he was being now, his voice soft and unsure. It contrasted vastly with the confident, loud-mouthed Dream everyone usually saw, though she liked that Dream too. She wished he could show his face for just one more second to see what he looked like shy. Probably sickeningly adorable.

This was it, wasn't it? The chance she had been waiting for to tell him her name? He just let her in on his biggest secret, now he was the one deserving to be let in.

"Y/n," she said with a confident, but soft voice.

There was a long pause. "W-what?"

"Y/n."

He understood the second time immediately. "Y/n..." he tested, the smile in his voice clear as day. "I like it."

"Yeah, well, I guess you deserved to know the secret too."

"I would have been content never knowing."

"Really?" She didn't believe him. He seemed like the type to never be satisfied, always looking for something better. Not in a greedy way, but in a motivational, goal-oriented big achiever way.

"Really," he hummed. "I already feel like you're too good to be true so I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't a real person."

It was silent as she tried to collect her thoughts.

"Bug? You okay?"

"Yeah, I... it's just a lot."

"Sorry."

"No, it's not you. Well... I don't know. I just don't know what I'm supposed to say when you say things like that," she admitted.

He paused. "I think you always have the perfect responses when I say things like that."

"What do I usually say?" She smiled shyly, pulling her hoodie up to her lips.

"You usually call me a nerd or say you can't stand me. 'Oh my gosh I cannot stand you'," he mimicked before laughing.

"What? How is that the perfect response to you saying you can't believe I'm real?"

He hummed and she could practically hear him shrugging. "Because it's a classic Bug response. It's a hundred perfect you. So yeah, it's perfect."

She was silent, trying to compose herself before she exploded.

"By the way, check Twitter."

"Why, are you bragging about me calling you hot?" she teased, hoping to make him blush like she had earlier. It worked.

"Oh my gosh, no. Just look."

She clicked her home button and navigated to the app, her feed instantly flooding with the same similar messages.

"Oh, my gosh," she muttered, her fingers flying away as she typed out her own tweet in response to the love.

Dream chuckled from the other end and when she asked him why, he vaguely said that George texted him but didn't explain further.

"Um, I have to go," she said mournfully. "Karl and Quackity are coming over again."

"Booooo," he pouted.

"Sorry, you aren't the only man in my life," she teased before instantly regretting her choice of words. Too flirty, Y/n, she thought to herself.

"Hm, shame. Am I at least at the top of the list?"

She bit her lips, wanting desperately to repeat what she had told him on their Minecraft date. In the end, she gave in. "I always mean what I say too," she started. "You're my main bitch, baby."

Dream made some sort of sound, a mix of a scoff and a whine but Y/n didn't comment on it, just glowing with heat in her cheeks.

"Leave before I don't let you," he said softly and the heat only grew.

"Goodnight, Dream," she pressed, the tone in her voice letting him know he was being a tease. "Thanks for... thanks for your tweet. And for everything you said earlier."

"Of course. Sorry that you have to see those kinds of things a lot."

"It's okay when I have people like you."

"People like me? What does that mean?"

"Just.... people like you." Cute, sweet, kind, genuine people who make her heart flutter.

She could hear his smile in his words and she figured he knew the unspoken words in her thoughts, the ones she was saying without saying. "Okay. Goodnight, Y/n."

"Goodnight."

**********

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bestiesenpai · 4 years ago

Text

Area 51 - Nanami Kento

This is for @natsuonii’s creature feature collab! :) It’s got alien!reader, scientist Nanami and a whole lot of weird shit I’d say. Femme reader...there’s alien pussy lol 9.8K words

link to the collab!

Content warnings: sex pollen, alien heat, reverse knot, daddy kink, blood + needle(it’s brief I promise) and random medical terms and fake science shit lol don’t look too deeply at it

“This...this is the best scientific breakthrough we’ve ever had.” Nanami was at a loss for words, watching as decked out military men brought in case after case of wreckage from a shot down spacecraft. Working at a highly secure government facility sure did have it’s perks, and being one of the first people to know about all this was certainly the biggest one.

Nanami had spent so much of his life studying and clawing his way to the job he was at now. He’d sacrificed so much in the name of science, in the pursuit of finding extraterrestrial life forms no matter how small and insignificant, and it was finally paying off.

“Doctor, we’ll take the embryos to your lab.” One of the men said, quickly walking away tailed by people holding glowing blue cases. He hadn’t really been briefed on what all was coming in and what exactly happened to get it here, but he was sure he would find out soon enough.

“Careful!” Another person shouted and he was pushed out of the way. Coming in through the large steel doors was what looked like a four armed monster strapped face down to a flatbed. Markings went up and down his face and body and there were an extra set of eyes staring at everyone as it was wheeled by.

“What is that creature?” Nanami mumbled, clutching his clipboard tightly. The creature was breathing hard through its nose, nostrils flaring dangerously wide and a light growl rumbled from its chest.

“It appears to be the leader of the spacecraft, we could only get the creature's name, nothing else: Sukuna.” Someone answered him, but Nanami didn’t acknowledge, he was unable to take his eyes off Sukuna.

“Incredible.” His mouth hung open like a fool, unblinking as he watched Sukuna be wheeled past him and to the elevator shaft. “How far down are they taking him?”

“I heard the chief say as far as they could. He’s highly dangerous, it was a miracle the team was able to get the upper hand.”

“I’ll have to pay him a visit soon.” Nanami had enough security clearance to go anywhere in the building, but something was telling him he’d have to ask for a lot of permissions first before making contact with Sukuna. Nanami learned quite early on that the deeper underground you went, the more power you needed to be there.

Once the final bits and pieces were brought into the facility, Nanami peeled himself off the wall and made the way to his own lab. With his badge hung proudly from his shirt pocket, Nanami made the descent and as the elevator went floor after floor and the numbers got higher and higher, he let some excited exhales out.

Going down the metal corridor, he came to his lab to see it teeming with people. Nanami often worked alone on things and to see so many people milling about in his space made him a little nervous.

“Tell me about the embryos.” Was the first thing he said when he entered, donning the white lab coat he’d left hanging by the door. Walking over to the giant test tubes lining the back wall, he peered into one of the open cases.

Nestled inside atop a pile of hay were glowing blue orbs, some too bright to look at directly. They had a light blue smoke coming off, gradually spilling out the sides of the case and if he looked hard enough Nanami could just barely see the outline of a creature inside.

“They were on the spaceship Sukuna came in on. He was hellbent on protecting them, killing five of our people right off the bat.” The military man he’d spoken to earlier was here, answering right away.

“Were they in a case like this?” Donning a pair of gloves, Nanami picked one up. It was cool to the touch and quite heavy, making the muscles in his arm work harder than expected to stay upright.

“No, he had them suspended in some type of thick goop, like clear maple syrup.”

“How scientific, thank you.” He snorted, setting the embryo back down. “Do you have any of this ‘goop’ left?”

“Only this, sir.” Holding up a capped beaker filled halfway with the fluid, the man let out a defeated sigh. “Sukuna actually swallowed most of it, I guess trying to keep the embryos from us any way possible. This stuff is crazy acidic though, it’s melted almost everything it comes in contact with.”

“This should be enough…” Already making calculations in his head, Nanami took the beaker and walked to the control panel of the test tubes. “Load up the embryos and I’ll try to mimic the solution they were in. In the meantime, I’ll put one in that should be similar enough to keep them alive for a while.”

Pressing a few buttons on the panel, the test tubes began to fill with a murky pink liquid, filling the air with a pungent aroma. The embryos were loaded in quickly and the tubes sealed off. Watching them as he walked over to a table full of supplies, Nanami grinned slightly at watching them float.

It took him little time to come up with the properties of the amniotic fluid the embryos had been in. Making slight adjustments to the formula, he watched the liquid go from murky to clear, with only a light pink tinge left.

As the days wore on, Nanami studied the embryos intensely, opting to sleep in his lab instead of the barracks provided so he wouldn’t miss a single change should any occur. Going days without sleep, a week went by without any significant change.

A soft tapping on glass roused Nanami from an impromptu nap. Drawing his head up from where it was nestled in his arms on the metal table he was slumped over, he rubbed his face roughly and looked around.

“Who is it?” He called, assuming it was someone at the door. But when no answer came and the door wasn’t opened, he fully sat up and looked around. “Where the hell-” Cutting himself off as he looked at the test tubes, Nanami almost fell out of his stool.

In the seven test tubes lining the wall, there were three embryos that had come to term. He knew some would fail, resigning himself to the possibility that all of them would, but to see three newborn aliens was beyond his wildest expectations.

“Oh my god.” Snatching his clipboard off the table, Nanami rushed to the test tubes. He was writing furiously, capturing every single detail he saw about them and even making quick sketches of what they looked like.

There were little nubs right above their behinds, what looked to be the beginnings of a tail. All of them had two sets of eyes, unopened and tiny on their infantile faces, faces that were beginning to bear the same marks Sukuna had.

The tapping on the glass, Nanami quickly found out, was from them floating freely in the tubes, softly knocking against the glass as they hung suspended in the fluid. Nanami couldn’t see any kind of umbilical cord or method to get them the possible nutrients they needed to stay alive. So he just had to hope that they woke up soon to tell him what they needed.

The babies rapidly took shape after coming to term, morphing into a human-like form right before Nanami’s eyes. It seemed that with every couple of hours that passed they grew more and more. Fingers, webbed toes, tufts of hair and tails all appeared.

“So when do you think they’ll be able to come out?” His supervisor asked, nearly a month after the first encounter. The aliens under Nanami’s care looked like full fledged adults, ones that you could see out in public and - despite a few glaring differences - not pay any mind to.

“I don’t know, ma’am. I don’t know if they can survive out here.” In the month that passed, the facility wasn’t able to get any intel from Sukuna about the embryos or why he chose to come to Earth. All he did was snarl and growl, slurring a few death threats when he could.

“Take one out and see.”

“What?” Gasping loudly, Nanami’s eyes went wide. Surely his boss didn’t mean for him to sacrifice one of them? They were too precious of an asset to possibly let die like that and Nanami was ready to put his foot down.

“Don’t worry, doctor, Sukuna’s told us a bunch of times that more of his people will be coming, and I’m willing to bet they’ll have more embryos for us to study.” Giving him a swift pat on the back, his boss turned on her heel and started to walk away. “The usual assistants will be here to help you should you need anything and don’t feel bad if they all die, that’s just how these things go.”

The parting words were less than heartwarming. Letting out a rough sigh, Nanami turned to the team of people behind him. They worked with him before, most of them idolizing him with a gleam in their eyes.

“We’ll wheel in the examining table and take them out one by one. If there’s any adverse reactions, I’m sure we’ll be able to handle it. Get the usual supplies ready, we’ll start in ten.” Giving the group a curt nod, Nanami turned back to the test tubes. Pressing his hand onto the glass of one, he closed his eyes. “God, I really hope you all don’t die.”

In ten minutes, Nanami was dressed in full hazmat gear and so was his team. The crinkling of plastic suits was loud in the otherwise deathly silent room as everyone held their breath. Draining the fluid of the first tube, Nanami swung open the door.

“Let’s take a look.” Nanami said as the body was lifted onto the table. It had no external sex organs to speak of, not even a hole for a cloaca. Cool to the touch, Nanami waited for it to show any signs of life.

“It’s not moving.” Someone called out after five minutes, scribbling it down on the notes. They’d tried everything, strapping an oxygen mask over the face, chest compressions and returning the body back to the fluid it had previously been in, but it was no use.

“Take that away to Getou’s lab, he’ll dissect it.” Waving the first body away, Nanami looked up at the second. “We need to instill a gradual change in environment or else the same thing will happen.”

“Should we try to set up a feeding tube or an IV?”

“IV, yes.”

The second attempt went marginally better than the first. Slowly shifting the fluid to one of a normal human amniotic fluid seemed to work. The alien twitched and rocked side to side, seemingly waking up from its slumber.

Drawing it out from the tube, it appeared to be just fine. Gasping for air, fluttering eyelids and squirming limbs - all things Nanami wanted to see. What he didn’t want though, was for the creature to lash out with unexpectedly sharp claws, cutting through the sleeve of his suit and drawing blood.

“Holy shit!” Stumbling back, Nanami watched in horror as the creature licked the blood from its nails. Smacking its lips together, the creature pointed at him. It was rapidly losing the color in its cheeks, struggling to form whatever words it needed.

“Blood? Do you need human blood to survive on this planet?” Nanami shouted, scrambling away from the table he’d flung himself onto and holding out his arm. “Take it! Quickly!”

“Doctor no!” A few of his assistants tried to yank him away from the examining table. They didn’t want to see the blood get drained from his body or him possibly get eaten by the creature.

“Stop it, let me do this!” Struggling with them, Nanami watched in rapt horror as the creature nodded slowly before fully collapsing on the table, drawing it’s last shaky inhale before falling limp entirely. “You fucking idiots, we just lost another one!” Pushing the people away, Nanami banged his fist angrily on the table.

“Doctor, we couldn’t let you do something so dangerous! You’re the most valuable scientist here, we can’t lose you!”

“Bullshit! I don’t care if the next one wants to swallow me whole, you let it!” Glaring at all the people in the room, Nanami began to rip his gear off. “And if it dies for any reason, I’m going to make sure none of you ever find work again.”

With the threat hanging heavily in the air, Nanami stormed over to the control panel one last time, punching in the codes needed to change the fluid on the remaining test tube. His arm was slowly leaking blood and he could feel the warmth drip down to his hand.

“Get me an IV, I’m going to give this last one a blood transfusion.”

“Doctor, are you sure you-”

“If you question me one more time I’ll cut your tongue out. Now do as I say.” Pulling up a chair, Nanami sat down and leaned his head against the cold glass of the tube. None of this was going as he wanted; Nanami didn’t plan to lose two out of three creatures, nor to give blood to the last one.

Hooking up an IV, Nanami watched the blood drain from his arm, flowing up and into the top of the test tube where there was a needle inserted into the last alien. Trying not to get too woozy as he was drained of blood, Nanami pressed his forehead to the glass and squeezed his eyes shut.

“I don’t believe in you but God if you’re out there, please make this work.”

“Doctor?” He wasn’t sure when he passed out, but when Nanami came to, he had a crowd of people gawking at him.

“Yes? What?” The IV was out of his arm and there was a blanket over him and as he tried to get out of his chair he nearly fell.

“L-look behind you.” Pointing with a shaking finger, the assistant that woke him up turned him to face the test tube.

“Why do you all look so-” Turning around, Nanami stumbled back, for once grateful to have someone else in the lab to catch him. “Scared?” Whispering out the last word in a high pitched voice, Nanami couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

The once nondescript alien in the tube was now a fully fledged human being. With complete and fairly dark markings on their face, breasts and a vagina, the creature before him could be mistaken for any other adult.

And the thing that was most shocking was the way all four eyes honed in on Nanami, tracking his every move. Pressing it’s forehead and hands to the glass, the creature turned as Nanami walked side to side.

“It’s been watching you since you passed out.”

“How long has it been like that?” He asked, getting closer to the test tube.

“It just suddenly changed shortly after you lost consciousness. A flash of light went off and poof, it looked like that.” Pressing his hand to the glass, Nanami let out a breathless laugh as the creature scurried back only to return in mere seconds.

“Open the tube, we have to let it out.” Unable to take his eyes off the creature, Nanami could hardly wait for all the fluid to be drained before opening up the test tube and helping the creature out. Surprisingly steady on its feet, Nanami barely had to help it stand upright.

“Hello.” He smiled, shrugging off his lab coat and placing it over its shoulders. “Welcome to Earth.”

“Hello.” You said back, attempting to smile as well. “Welcome to Earth.”

When Nanami first got the embryos, he wasn’t expecting anything to come out of them. The most he thought would happen was possible growth but never any of them coming to term and certainly never of them to actually be able to communicate.

It appears you were destined to prove him wrong, however. Nearly the moment you stepped out of the test tube, dripping in fluid and with a long tail you couldn’t quite control, you exceeded all of Nanami’s expectations - not that he even had any to begin with, especially not when it came to taking you out of the tube.

The first hour, you were sitting perfectly still while the team ran tests on you. Pressing a cold stethoscope to your chest, a few of them got a giggle out of the way you gasped and squirmed. Nanami watched it all happen, taking calculated notes and even doing some of the tests himself.

“What’s your name?” He questioned after another hour of hearing you repeat the phrases around you. Staring at him from the stool you were perched on, you tilted your head. It was only you and him left in the lab now, he sent everyone else away, wanting a chance to study you on his own.

“What’s your name?” You parroted back, mimicking the way Nanami had his arms crossed over his chest.

“My name is Nanami Kento. What’s yours?”

“Nanami Kento.” He made a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat, rolling his eyes at the giggle you let out. He understood he was dealing with an alien, one that might never be able to fully communicate the way he desired, but he wanted to get somewhere.

“What’ll it take for you to stop copying me?”

“Reading a book.” He’d meant it as a rhetorical question, and hearing your voice form a stilted sentence all on it’s own was a big surprise. Nodding curtly, Nanami walked over to a set of bookcases and grabbed a thick dictionary and a thesaurus, placing them onto the table next to you. Flipping open the first page of the dictionary, Nanami pointed at the words.

“Can you read these?”

“Mhmm!” Leaning over, your eyes scanned the script.

“Good, read all of it and tell me when you’re done.” Setting up a chair on the other side of the table, Nanami fixed a pile of notes and other documents he needed to work over. He could take time to catch up his reports while you-

“Done!” Slamming the dictionary closed, you picked up the thesaurus. “I have to read this too?”

“Y-yes.” Nanami’s mouth hung open slightly as he watched you speed through the second book. He expected this whole process to take an hour at least but you were done with both books in just a few minutes.

“All finished.” You were still a little unsure of forming sentences, lifting your voice in slight question at the end.

“How did you do that so fast?”

“When Mother made us, she gave us all the information she could on this planet, including rudimentary language. I just needed a way to conceptualize actually speaking on my own.”

“Who’s Mother?” Grabbing his pen, Nanami began to scribble down what you were saying.

“Mother is the one that made us. All of us, me, my companions, and Sukuna too.”

“Right…” Nanami’s hand hesitated at the mention of Sukuna, drawing inky swirls in place of words. “Then Mother is the one who sent you here with him?”

“Yes! She said that to take over this planet, we would need to assimilate to the environment and that we’d need a strong warrior to protect us.” You had a dreamy look in your eyes, no doubt thinking about Sukuna. “So far I like this-”

“Hold on, take over the planet?”

“It’s what my people do: we come to a planet, impregnate the population and take over.” He was sure there was more to it than that but for his own peace of mind Nanami didn’t question it further. For now, he wanted to focus on the positives, mainly the one of you finally speaking on your own.

“So…” Nanami struggled to find the next topic of conversation.

“Oh, I remember my name now! It’s (Y/N).”

“Did Mother also give you that name?”

“She did!” You truly looked overjoyed to be talking about all this. The smile on your face led to Nanami being able to see the sharp canine teeth in your mouth, akin to a set of teeth he’d find in a vampire movie.

“So (Y/N), I have a question. I gave you my blood so you’d be able to live on this planet.” He paused to make sure you were following along. “I want to know why you’re a female when you received male donor blood.”

“Mother determined which gender would be useful for me to have on this planet, so all I needed was your DNA to complete the transformation and become a human.”

“Mother thinks humans have those extra eyes and a tail?” Nanami snorted at that, there were too many things to give away your unhuman origins that couldn’t be ignored.

“Sukuna is supposed to teach us how to hide them until we need them.” Your shoulders visibly slumped and you looked around. “Where is he? He was supposed to be here when we woke up.”

“He’s somewhere else-”

“Where? Where is he?” Putting both palms flat on the table, you leaned forward. You seemed desperate, your brows scrunching together as you worried your lip. “I can tell he’s close, but where is he exactly?”

Nanami heard what you said. He knew exactly the words that were spoken and their meaning. But he was having a hard time thinking of anything as he suddenly became aware again of the fact that you were still naked, the lab coat you had on falling open to reveal your breasts.

“How about we talk about that while you get dressed in something more appropriate?” Clearing his throat roughly, Nanami pushed away from the table. His cheeks were getting a bit warm and he didn’t want you to see.

“No, tell me where Sukuna is!” Slapping your hands loudly on the table, you glared sharply at Nanami when he tried to come closer. “I don’t want to be alone any longer! My companions didn’t make it, he’s all I have!”

“(Y/N)...” Sighing softly, Nanami didn’t know what to do. If he tried to raise his hand, you growled at him, flexing your fingers as if you were going to strike him. He couldn’t tell you where Sukuna was, no matter what. “You’re- you’re not alone.”

“What do you mean?” Your face softened just a fraction, and you leaned back as Nanami lifted his hand slowly, placing it on the table near your own hand.

“You have me.” Nanami felt something odd twisting his stomach, something that told him this simultaneously was a good and bad idea. It wasn’t wise to say this to you, to try and build some kind of relationship beyond a scientist and his test subject, but what did he have to lose? You were the first alien he’d ever come in contact with, there were bound to be some risks he’d have to take to keep you happy.

“Really?” Relaxing your body, you let your hand get closer to Nanami’s.

“Really.” Fully grabbing your hand now, Nanami tugged you from the stool, craning his head away to avoid looking at your open chest. “Now follow me, I think there’s some scrubs in one of these drawers.”

“Nanami, I’m hungry.” After finding you a set of clothes buried in a drawer and cutting a hole in the bottoms for your tail, Nanami was greeted with the sound of your growling stomach.

“What do you eat?”

“Whatever you eat.” Taking up residence on the singular fold out couch Nanami used to sleep on, you watched him pick up the phone on his desk.

“Let’s have some pasta then.”

While Nanami preferred to cook his food himself rather than ordering it from upstairs, he didn’t have the heart to tell you that the cafeteria food was less than ideal. You seemed to love the dish he gave you, eating it with no hesitation and a smile on your face.

“Is there anything else you can tell me about your kind?” Picking over his food, Nanami watched you finish eating in record time and pushed his plate over to you.

“Like what?” Tilting your head to the side, you gladly took his food.

“Anything that comes to mind like cultural things, maybe you celebrate holidays?”

“We do! I was created to leave the planet, but others get to stay and cultivate life there. We have something close to what you call Christmas and others for things you wouldn’t understand.”

“Really? You’ll have to write them down for me later.” Nodding to himself, he made the mental note to teach you how to write. Glancing down at the two now empty plates before you, Nanami flicked his head toward the phone. “Fancy some more?”

As it reached midnight, Nanami became starkly aware of the fact there was only one place for the both of you to sleep. He wasn’t sure how much sleep you actually needed or if you needed any at all for that matter, but he knew for sure that sleeping on the same fold out mattress with you would be crossing a line he wasn’t ready for. It was already too short to hold his entire frame, and putting two bodies side by side wouldn’t be a good idea.

“(Y/N), are you tired?” Standing up from the couch, he motioned for you to stand as well.

“Yes.” Your voice was chipper as ever, not a hint of exhaustion heard. You watched with rapt interest as Nanami unfolded the mattress and set it on the ground.

“Alright, well you’ll be sleeping here and I’ll be sleeping in the barracks.”

“I’m going to be alone?”

“Is that a problem?” Quirking a brow, Nanami glanced at you.

“Well not necessarily but I- I don’t want to be alone. Not on my first night, at least.” Curling your tail on the ground, you worried your fingers, claws clicking together as you did. Nanami could feel his resolve wearing down, the nervous look you tried to hide made his fingers flex; he felt an overarching urge to protect you.

“I’ll grab another couch from the lab next door.” Turning on his heel, Nanami took deep breaths as he left the room. Forcing his head to get clear, he drug another couch into his lab, setting it up across from the first one.

“Is this what you call a sleepover?” You asked, watching Nanami set up both couches with blankets and pillows.

“You could say that, yes.” A strange giggle left your mouth and it made Nanami pause and look at you. “What was that sound?”

“A laugh?” Dropping your face in confusion, you looked him straight in the eye. “Is something wrong?”

“No no it’s just-” clearing his throat loudly, Nanami rushed out the next words, “That was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.” At his admittance, you giggled again and he had to bite his lip hard from audibly swooning.

“Mother made it special for me, she makes all her children special.” Mimicking the way Nanami climbed into bed, you laid down and stared at the dark ceiling. “Only some of us can laugh like that, and others have pheromones and what not to attract the native people on a new planet.”

“(Y/N), do you have special pheromones too?” Your casual mention of impregnating and taking over the whole planet flashed in his head.

“I think I do, why else would you have agreed to stay here with me?”

“Good to know.” Nanami would have to install a high tech air filter later, he didn’t like the idea of slowly succumbing to your desires. Fully laying down in bed, he drew the blankets up to his chin and tried not to think of it anymore. “Good night.”

For a month Nanami studied you nonstop. Gathering medical information, he discovered you had three stomachs and two hearts. Through plenty of trial and error you learned how to keep the swinging of your tail under control and not trip him anymore. He even learned your favorite foods and the relative location of your home planet in the galaxy.

When Nanami had to step out for meetings, he begrudgingly let fellow scientist Gojo watch over you. The best in his field and horribly obnoxious about it, Nanami tried to limit the time you two spent together. He didn’t need Gojo influencing you too much and ruining the work Nanami had put into acclimating you to society in an appropriate way.

“You’re back!” It was like he was coming home from work whenever you greeted him like that. You bounded over to the door from wherever you were and bounced on your toes, eager to talk to him about what he’d done while away.

“Mhmm. How’s it been with Gojo?” Nanami glanced up at said man, not liking the fact that he was lounging on the couch with his laptop perched precariously on his thigh.

“It’s great! He showed me something really interesting.” A shy giggle left your lips and you avoided further eye contact with Nanami.

“What is it?” Narrowing his eyes, Nanami began to glower at Gojo, who started to shrink under his gaze.

“(Y/N), don’t you have something to say first?” Gojo smirked, barely hiding a chuckle behind his hand.

“Oh, you’re right!” Squaring your shoulders at Nanami, you took a deep breath. “Welcome back, daddy!” Taking a brief glance at Gojo, you cupped your cheeks and stuck your tongue out, crossing your eyes for extra measure.

“W-what the fuck!” Scrambling back in shock, Nanami glared sharply at Gojo as a harsh red flush coated his cheeks. He was ashamed to admit he’d seen that face before, late at night when he was too restless to sleep and needed something to help soothe his mind.

“What’s wrong, Kento? Do you not like what (Y/N)’s doin’?” The dark chuckle behind Gojo’s words had Nanami wanting to throttle him. Of course he liked it, he was a grown man wasn’t he? Not to mention Nanami couldn’t remember the last time he’d laid down with another warm body like that and the face you were making was bringing several repressed thoughts to the surface.

Unable to form the proper words, Nanami side stepped you and went to his desk, placing files down that needed to be typed out later and trying to still his rapid heartbeat. The way you said that sentence so enthusiastically, saliva making your tongue glisten in the light - it was too much for him to deal with so abruptly.

“Why’d you teach her that shit?” Nanami growled, covering the lower half of his face with his trembling hand.

“(Y/N) deserves to know all aspects of human life, wouldn’t you agree?” Closing his laptop, Gojo stood up and walked to the door. “Besides Kento, I know you get lonely at night.” Smiling sweetly at you, Gojo left the room without any further comment.

“(Y/N).” With his back still facing you, Nanami heaved a sigh.

“Yes?” You said slowly, relaxing your body. The tension rolled off Nanami in waves, making the air thick and uncomfortable. It was hard to read whether he was angry or not.

“What has Gojo been teaching you?” The subtle sag in his shoulders isn’t missed by you, making you scramble to the desk and face him.

“I don’t know! He said there were some interesting things you’d yet to show me and he pulled up some websites and- and-” A bit of fear spiked in your head. You’d only gone along with what Gojo said was right, Nanami had entrusted you to his care after all and your whole reason for being on the planet was to assimilate. “Are you mad at me?” Rubbing at your four eyes to stem a sudden wave of anxious tears, you looked at Nanami, waiting nervously for his answer.

“Not at you. Him.” Sensing your oncoming distraught, Nanami shook his head and cleared his throat. “I want you to learn all the good things of human life and well-”

“Sex isn’t a good thing?” You gasped, leaning your hands on the desk.

“Did he teach you about sex?” Nanami nearly yelled back.

“He did! We read a lot of medical journals about it, it releases so many good chemicals into the human brain! And then Gojo went to this website called PornHub and-”

“He what?!” A heart attack. Nanami was going to have a heart attack.

“Let me finish! He showed me humans having sex and it looked like they were having a great time!” Your breath was coming out short and Nanami could hear the drag of your tail on the ground as you got worked up. “But it didn’t do anything to me, I haven’t reached that point yet!” He didn’t understand what you meant and while the urge to drown himself in the bottle of dark liquor he kept hidden away tugged at him, his pursuit for knowledge was greater.

“What do you mean you ‘haven’t reached that point yet’?” Collapsing into the desk chair, Nanami was more worked up than he thought. The shock of hearing you call him daddy, learning that you discovered what sex was and now he was going to know when you would begin to show interest in such a thing.

“Sexual maturity, I’m not there yet, so seeing that stuff didn’t do anything to me.”

“When will you be?” He pressed, grabbing a pen and getting ready to write down whatever you said on the corner of a file.

“It’s been a month since I’ve transformed, so in about a week or two.”

“That fast?” Nanami blanched, mind spinning at how he was going to deal with that. “Humans take years, though, shouldn’t my blood affect that?”

“No, my DNA only takes what it needs from yours. My base mechanics like lifespan and in this case sexual maturity are all hardwired by Mother. They won’t change just because a few drops of your blood mix in.”

“So...so what does that mean for you? Do you need some kind of special uh- a special thing or-?” His cheeks and ears burned fiercely and Nanami cleared his throat in the middle of the sentence. He knew exactly what he meant by ‘a special thing’ but he couldn’t bring himself to say it in front of you.

“I don’t know, actually.” Shrugging your shoulders, you sat on the edge of his desk. “Sukuna is supposed to tell me what happens and what to do after we pick out a suitable mate for me.”

There was that mention of Sukuna again. The creature buried so far underground some people wondered if he was passing the Earth's mantle. He’d settled down in the month since your arrival, seemingly knowing that you had emerged from the embryo and survived. He still refused to give any answers and you hadn’t mentioned him in nearly three weeks.

“You don’t need him. We can figure it out once it gets here.” Shaking his head, Nanami could feel himself getting a little high off your pheromones with you sitting so close. The air filter he put into the room could only do so much when your scent rolled off in such thick waves.

“Okay.” Sighing the word, you resigned yourself to playing with your fingers. Silence washed over the room, less tense than before but still tainted with an edge to it. Both of you were flushed from talking about this subject and Nanami was glad you had your back to him.

“(Y/N), I have another question.” A few minutes later, Nanami couldn’t hold back the question burning in his mind. You let out a hum of acknowledgement but didn’t face him. “What would be a suitable mate for you? What kind of human?”

He blamed it on your pheromones, he blamed every last less than professional thought in his head on your pheromones and what you did to him and he especially blamed Gojo for forcing this topic of conversation to come up. Nanami tried to reason with himself, put the narrative in his head that he wanted to know for science, but in the dark recesses of his mind Nanami wanted to know who your type was if you even had one.

“Well actually, a human like you is perfect.” Your back curved just a little to keep your face hidden as you spoke. The words hung in the air, leaving Nanami’s mouth hanging slightly open and his mind bouncing to a hundred different places at once.

“Like me?” He whispered, barely registering the words coming out of his mouth.

“Exactly like you.” This time you looked over your shoulder at him, your eyes narrowing as you took in his reaction. His shock seemed to be enough for you, your secondary eyes pinching closed as you smiled, and you turned back to face forward. “Nanami, I’m hungry.”

Having grown accustomed to your new home, you slid off the desk and to the couch that was yours. Nanami’s eyes were glued to your back, watching the way your tail moved on the ground as you walked. His throat was suddenly thick, there were plenty of things he wanted to say, things that would definitely violate his code of ethics.

“Nanami.” Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts, back to reality where you were far away from arms reach. The weight of your eyes bore right back into him and Nanami knew he’d been caught staring.

“Yes?” He forced the word out, his tongue feeling heavy and foreign in his mouth.

“Should we have pasta tonight?”

Nanami hardly slept at all that night, plagued with ideas of what you thought about him and less than savory images of you and your body. Shame settled over him like a second blanket as he tossed and turned throughout the night, trying to rid his mind of such things to no avail.

In the morning, Nanami got rid of the second couch and made the decision to sleep in the barracks when he needed to. While nothing inherently sexual had occurred, he still felt like he betrayed some sort of trust between you two, sullied the pure relationship you had together.

Ignoring your whines and protests, he also made the decision to get rid of Gojo as your babysitter. He didn’t want or need your mind filled with things he didn’t deem appropriate and Gojo was the main perpetrator of such things, and he was confident enough that he could leave you alone for a few hours and nothing bad would happen.

It almost hurts to leave you alone at night, the old ritual of slowly nudging you along your night time routine and laying down on adjacent mattresses was now replaced by getting you ready for bed but then leaving shortly after you were all tucked in. Sometimes you whined and wanted him to stay, claiming that you didn’t sleep as well without him there, and sometimes Nanami hesitated at the door before steeling his resolve and leaving.

He doubts he’ll ever tell you that he stopped sleeping as well too.

An abrupt evening meeting three weeks later called him away from you sooner than either of you would have liked. You’d developed a cough and a bit of a rash over the course of time and while Nanami was sure this meant you were reaching sexual maturity, he was still hell bent on finding some medicine to help you, not wanting to go to this meeting about another potential UFO sighting.

“(Y/N), I’m back and I-” Nanami all but ran back to his laboratory with some medicine he’d swiped from Gojo. He was worried for you, not just as a scientist but as a friend. Throwing open the door and locking it quickly to contain any possible airborne particles, Nanami was assaulted with the harsh smell of something sweetly floral.

“N-nanami!” His eyes immediately find you, writhing in what looks like agony on the mattress he’d pulled out for you before leaving. Walking quickly over to you, every inhale he made felt like he was breathing in a thick fog.

“Wh-what’s wrong?” Coughing and putting a hand over his face, he looked over you. It was normal for you to just wear a long, oversized t-shirt Gojo got you from a local thrift store to sleep and right now it was clinging tightly to your body from the sweat pouring out of you.

“Nanami!” Shaking your head side to side, he could see the tears leaking out of your eyes. Against his better judgement, Nanami crouched down on one knee and put a hand on your forehead.

“Shit, you’re burning up.” Pulling his fingers away, there was a light yellow powdery film left on them. “(Y/N) what is this? Has it started?” The substance tingled on his fingers, making them go slightly numb.

There was a pitiful noise from you as a response and a limp nod, and Nanami rushed to the sink to wash off his hands. The scent in the room was overwhelming, almost choking him with every inhale he made. Turning the ventilation system on as high as it could go did nothing and there was still pollen visibly floating in the air.

“I have to go, I can’t be here.”

“No!” You cried, falling out of bed with a loud thump and crawling toward Nanami. “D-don’t leave!”

“I have to, this stuff isn’t good for me.” Nanami kept his back to you, hastily trying to grab some things from his desk. His cock was already beginning to stiffen painfully and the sounds you were making were echoing inside his head.

“Wait!” Tugging on his pant leg, you dug your claws into it.

“(Y/N), let go.” He tried to shake you off, staunchly avoiding eye contact. The heat on his skin was rising and if Nanami were to look in a mirror he would see how red he was. You refused to let go, sitting up on weak knees and pushing your hand further up his leg.

“D-daddy, please! Help me!”

That was it. That was the moment that broke Nanami Kento. He knows Gojo has told you that he likes to be called that in bed, among other things. He knows that the pollen in the air is what’s making his head impossibly foggy with only one thing able to be focused on. Nanami knows that if he stays here any longer, he’ll do something that he won’t regret, but that might cost him his job.

“Daddy…” Emboldened by unbridled desperation, you force Nanami to face you with strength he didn’t know you possessed. Eye to eye with his cock straining against his slacks, you shove your face right into it.

“(Y/N)!” Your name comes out as a rough groan from his lips and Nanami’s hands fly to grab the back of your head. As he grips your head, Nanami makes no move to pull you away and doesn’t stop you from rubbing your face along his clothed cock.

“Please please please, just this once! I need to do this-” The pleading you're doing is muffled by your mouth running along fabric, words slurred and barely coming out properly. Just from this stimulation alone Nanami can feel his balls tighten like he’s about to cum.

“Sto-stop, stop this.” Nanami’s own sense of morals, his will to do anything besides being in this room with you was going to be torn to shreds the longer you touched him. And it was, as he came in his pants, rutting his hips like a pathetic teenager into your face.

He came but his cock was still as hard as before, maybe even more so. There was no reprieve from the painful need to be stimulated, to feel you touch him again and again and again. With a mangled groan, he shoves your head away and grabs his waistband.

Swatting your hands away that still rest on his hips, Nanami undoes his belt and shoves his pants and underwear down to the ground. His cock slaps against his dress shirt, glistening from the previous load of cum and leaking more like he’s never seen before.

“What did you do to me?” He asks under his breath, feeling sweat pooling on his skin despite being half naked. As he takes off his remaining clothes, Nanami can feel the tingle from the pollen settling all over him, sticking to his hair and to every crevice of his body.

“D’ya like it, daddy? That’s what M-mother chose for me, it’s a new- a new evolution we got from a previous planet.” It’s amazing that you can stand on your own feet despite the way your legs shake violently. Nanami can tell you’re in a sorry state, so he lets you lead him to the mattress and fall back onto it.

“Mother made you pollen? How interesting.” Somewhere far back in his head, he really did find it genuinely interesting. But right now he was merely making conversation, settling on the bed as you climbed on top of him and took your wet shirt off.

The rash that had been on your skin was now turning into powdery pollen before his very eyes, falling off and into the air like a flower's pollen would. Laying down on Nanami, pressing your breasts against his chest, you fell into a kiss with him.

Even though it was your first kiss, Nanami was the one left feeling inexperienced as you slotted your mouths together and slid your tongue past his lips. Even your saliva was sweet as it dripped it into his mouth and down the sides. Nanami’s hands roamed your body, pinching into your sides and squeezing your ass painfully tight. Surprisingly, your tail didn’t get in the way, just languidly swaying side to side and sometimes tickling his shins.

“Daddy, please- I want more!” You whined loudly, breaking the kiss to trail your lips along his neck and chest and nip at the skin every so often.

“Tell me. Tell- tell daddy what you want.” There was the slightest hesitation, a tiny tinge of shame for doing this with you that got washed away as quickly as it came up by your wet cunt sliding against his cock.

“I want you inside me.” Wrapping your fingers around his cock, you stroked it slowly, unable to focus on putting it in and kissing him at the same time. Giving up with a grunt, you settled for rubbing your cunt along his shaft.

“Shit, roll over.” Flipping you with ease, Nanami grabs onto your thighs and holds them apart. Staring down at your cunt, it looks just like any other human sex organ, giving Nanami some peace of mind that he wouldn’t need to do anything too complicated to make you feel good.

You whine again when he doesn’t immediately push himself balls deep into you, instead laying on his stomach and giving your inner thighs kisses. Nanami grabs your hands, silently telling you to hold your legs apart as he delves in deeper.

One lick up your slit and you fall apart so easily, gushing around his mouth so much Nanami is sure you just had an orgasm. Greedily drinking it up, Nanami can attest that this is the best thing he’s ever tasted. Burying his face into your heat, he can’t keep his tongue in one place for too long, torn between pushing it deep inside you and licking at your swollen clit.

You’ve given up holding your legs open a while ago. As Nanami sucked on your clit, your thighs clamped down around his head and your fingers threaded through his hair. The feeling of his mouth on you was the best you’d ever experienced in your short time being alive and it was one you’d think about forever.

“Oh my- daddy, I-” Your eyes were closed so tightly you were seeing stars and you were sure Nanami couldn’t breathe anymore from how tightly you squeezed him as you came. His head thrashed side to side, tongue swiping all along your sex and inner thighs to catch all of your release.

“This is the best scientific breakthrough we’ve ever had.” Wrenching his head away before he passed out, Nanami laid limply on the bed. As the words left his mouth he remembered all those weeks ago now when you first came to him as just a tiny, glowing embryo. He never would have been able to imagine that you’d be here, turning him to lay on his back and crawling between his legs.

Grabbing the base of his cock firmly, you gave one lick to the tip before engulfing it fully in your mouth. Nanami’s back arched high off the bed in shock, surprised at the lack of hesitation from you and how easily he hit the back of your throat.

“S-slow down a little.” He panted, trying to cup your face and get you to look at him. Swatting his hand away, you let your tongue loll in your mouth as you sucked him off, easily planting your nose on his lower stomach and swallowing around him.

It must have been the pollen in the air to make him cum so quickly, Nanami reasoned with a harsh blush on his face. That was the only explanation for why he was currently spilling a thick load of cum down your throat in less than two minutes of you sucking him off.

“You taste so good, daddy.” Pulling off his cock, you licked the sides and down to his balls, gently sucking one into your mouth and looking up at him. Despite just cumming, Nanami felt another orgasm wash over him and another wave of cum came out, dribbling down the sides of his cock and onto your face.

Slapping a hand over his face, Nanami let out a few moans he’d been holding back. There was no way he would ever be able to look at you the same way after seeing your face covered in his seed.

“C’mere.” Stopping you from your current ministrations, he pulled you to lay over top of him again. Grabbing your sweaty shirt from the ground, he wiped the cum off your face, kissing your skin after he wiped it clean.

“Daddy, will you put it in already?” You cried, smacking your ass against his thighs angrily.

“Be patient, baby.” Petting down your back, Nanami shushed you, giving your ass a quick pinch before gripping the base of his cock. Keeping a hand on your hip to keep you steady, he helped you sink down on his cock, easily all the way to the hilt.

Digging your claws into his chest, you let out a loud howl. Finally you were getting what you really needed, the feeling of Nanami’s cock hugged tightly by your cunt spreading a warm feeling throughout your body.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” He hissed as you dragged your hips upward and back down again. Sure he’d been with other women before but none like this. Your cunt squeezed him incredibly tight, making it impossible for him to do anything other than lay back and let you move however you saw fit.

You weren’t shy in your motions either, riding his cock with a dizzying confidence and nearly fumbling down into a heap of loud moans on more than one occasion. Even with all the prep before your arrival to the planet and research you’d done about sex and the human experience, nothing could have prepared you for how good it actually felt during your heat.

Nanami was sure everyone within the compound could hear what was going on in the room, your noises were as loud as they’d ever been. The sound was as beautiful as when you laughed, hypnotizing him further into compliance.

“Shit!” He cursed harshly, nails digging into the flesh of your hips as he came. As his orgasm came over him, Nanami got no break from the pleasurable waves washing over him because you refused to stop.

“More, more!” You panted, working even harder to get him to cum again. With the added vigor, more pollen released into the air and Nanami breathed in a deep mouthful. Snaking an arm around your back, Nanami rolled you over, acting on pure instinct as he pushed and pulled your body into a mating press.

“You’re so- so demanding, baby.” The pet name came without thinking, not that Nanami was doing a whole lot as he pounded the full length of his cock into you. He wasn’t sure you could hear him, even while being face to face like this. There were too many sounds in the room, the moans that left both of you freely, the wet slapping of skin against skin and the creak of the old mattress springs.

“Please, give it all to me!” Throwing your head back, your cunt spasmed around Nanami’s cock for the umpteenth time, making another gush of your release coat everything within its reach.

Nanami was sure you’d have bruises later from how hard he gripped you but right now he couldn’t find it in him to care. The only thing on his mind was fucking you so hard you stopped babbling and crying like a baby for more of him. He wanted to give you all that he had and more until he himself collapsed as well.

Pushing a hand between your bodies, when he touched your clit Nanami briefly went deaf, unprepared for the incredibly high pitched moan that left your lips. His ears were ringing fiercely but he kept going, refusing to take his eyes off the way your mouth fell open as he rubbed your clit in quick circles.

“H-how many- how many times have you cum?” He gasped, feeling the very beginnings of a burn in his thighs.

“Not enough, it’s not enough.” Thrashing your head against the mattress, you wound your arms around his shoulders. “I need more, daddy.”

“I don’t have any more.” Nanami spoke around the smothering kisses you gave him.

“You do! Just- just a few more!” He wasn’t really in a position to argue with you, you were holding onto him with far more strength than he could ever hope to possess, and while the pollen on your skin had started to diminish there was still a lot in the air that refused to let him truly come to a stop.

As if on command, Nanami felt his balls tighten up and he came again. The arms holding him up broke down and he fell on top of you, burrowing his face into your neck and holding your hips up with his hands.

“Fuck, baby-” With his eyes squeezed shut, Nanami lost track of where he actually was. Nothing mattered except for the feeling of your body underneath him and your cunt holding him in a vice grip. There wasn’t any reason to keep track of how many times he’d emptied a load inside you, so when he did it again so soon after the other one, Nanami paid it no mind.

“It’s coming!” You gasped suddenly, cradling the back of Nanami’s head as your body suddenly came to a stop. Unable to stammer out a question as to what was coming, Nanami was met with the harsh shock of your cunt getting so tight he couldn’t move any further.

Raking your fingers through his hair, you sobbed openly, words slurring together. Nanami was only able to catch something about a ‘seal’ and how you were making Mother so proud for your first heat cycle on Earth.

“Baby, what’s going on?” Craning his head down, Nanami was just barely able to see the swollen flesh of your sex encompassing his cock.

“Y-you humans would call this a knot, right?” Shifting your hips a little, you slowly unwind your legs from around Nanami and let them lay on the bed. “I have to keep you inside for a while.”

“You’re going to get pregnant though.” With his mind still in disarray, Nanami found that he didn’t actually care. He knew that was why you came to the planet and he was willing to help you fulfill your mission.

“Not this first time, I’m only keeping it for later.”

“Of course an alien has sperm storage.” Mumbling to himself, Nanami felt the aches in his body finally starting to settle in as the rest of the pollen was cleared out of the air and the world around him returned to normal. Laying down as gently as possible, Nanami rolled you onto your side and hooked your leg over him. “How long will we be like this?”

“At least another five minutes.” Snuggling closer to him, you tucked your head under his chin. Taking a deep breath, Nanami felt around for the blanket you used that had managed to stay on the bed during all the moving. Throwing it over the two of you, he let out a sigh.

“I can wait five minutes.” No doubt there was going to be a lot of explaining to do on his part, and he could possibly get fired, but Nanami refused to think about that right now. He was far too tired, and the way you cuddled into him had not an ounce of regret or shame going through him. He would do it all again in a heartbeat.

“Nanami?” You whispered, fighting through sleep.

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

Did you know what love truly was? Did you have the capacity to love him like any other human, or were you thinking of a different emotion that you wanted to convey? Maybe you loved him in a way that he couldn’t understand and never would, or perhaps you were lying to further your agenda.

“I love you too.” Kissing the top of your head, Nanami pushed all other thoughts out of his head that could lead him to a negative outcome. Focusing on the sound of your breathing, he knew you had fallen asleep, and he kissed you again. “Yeah...I love you too.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #nanami kento #nanami x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

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j3ssisam3ss · 4 years ago

Text

Childhood Friends - Fluff

For @animebookworm16

It got kind of long and I’m not really sure it still counts as fluff, but here’s my piece for @maribat-angst-fluff-april, prompt 25, Childhood Friends.

Damian Al Ghul-Wayne was five years old the first time he met a girl his age. And in typical League of Assassins style, he went for efficiency by meeting ten at once.

“These are your betrothed,” Talia told him. “All but one will be dead by your twelfth birthday. You will marry the sole survivor on your eighteenth birthday and produce an Heir to carry on the great legacy of the League of Assassins.”

Nine of the girls heard the words without so much as a flinch. The last stared in shock at Talia, then broke into tears.

“Quiet, Marinette,” Talia hissed.

“No,” she yelled defiantly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I want my mama!”

Talia backhanded her and she fell to the floor with a yelp.

Damian surveyed the girl – Marinette – with distaste.

“Mother, surely you don’t consider this sniveling coward worthy to compete for my hand?”

“Her mother, Sabine Cheng, was our best assassin for years before she turned traitor. I suppose she’s lost her touch if she raised such a weak daughter.” Talia shrugged elegantly. “No matter, if she turns out to be useless, we’ll ship her mutilated corpse back to Sabine as a reminder of what happens when you cross the League.”

She waved the girls away. “To your training now.”

Damian watched as Marinette sniffled and followed the other girls out the door.

She won’t last a week.

He had no idea how wrong he was.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was five years old the first time she won a fight. And in typical Dupain-Cheng fashion, she did so in the most unpredictable way possible.

“You’re going down, pigtails,” shouted a pretty brunette, charging at Marinette with a sword that was as tall as she was.

With a startled shriek, Marinette darted away. She hated how behind she was here. Back home, she was good at everything – reading circle, art class, tussles when the teacher’s back was turned. Here, it felt like she was constantly playing catch-up.

Not to mention, the constant threat of death was not fun.

Skidding around a corner of the labyrinth arena, she tripped over a protruding stone and fell to the ground. The brunette grinned viciously, advancing towards her.

Marinette smiled nervously. “Can’t we talk this out?”

“Not a chance, shortie,” said the brunette.

Marinette glanced around frantically.

I don’t want to die!

She reached for a rock, a stick, anything that could help her fight, but came up with only a handful of sand. With a pleading glance heavenward, she flung it into the brunette’s face and lurched to her feet, grinning when the girl had to stop to get the grit out of her eyes.

Taking off into the labyrinth of passages, she nearly stumbled again, this time over a nearly buried metal object.

She shifted away the dirt surrounding it and smirked. “Finally, a weapon I know how to use.”

Ten minutes later, the watching League members straightened in surprise as the smallest and weakest of Damian’s betrotheds utterly decimated her opponent.

With a frying pan.

“What are you doing here?”

The two children spoke in unison, glaring daggers at one another.

“I always come here,” Marinette said. “It’s my drawing spot.”

“The vents are my domain, Dupain-Cheng,” Damian said. “Get out.”

Two years’ worth of resentment and anger simmered beneath Marinette’s skin.

Drawing is the last thing I have of home. I won’t let him take it from me.

“No.”

Damian looked thunderstruck and Marinette couldn’t keep the smirk off her face.

“I am Heir to the Demon! You will obey me!”

“You may be Heir to the Demon, but right now you’re also a kid skipping classes,” Marinette argued. “And if you make me leave, I’ll tell Talia exactly where you go when you’re not in class.”

Ha, take that, you tyrant!

Damian froze. Marinette watched as emotions overtook his face – anger, resentment, then acceptance.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

Marinette smiled and returned to her sketchbook – which wasn’t really a sketchbook, just some loose papers she’d tucked into her history book.

A few minutes later, Damian peered over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Drawing,” she said, holding out a few of her older sketches, the ones she wouldn’t mind losing if Damian decided to rip them. “There’s your mother fighting, cook making soup, the sunset from this other spot in the vents – actually, that one’s pretty bad because I didn’t have any colors.”

Damian stared at the drawing of his mother.

“I’m keeping this,” he announced.

Well, at least he didn’t tear it up.

The next week, when Marinette arrived at her drawing spot, Damian was already there. With an annoyed grunt, he shoved a sketchbook and colored pencils into her hands.

Marinette looked between him and the supplies in confusion. “What’s this for?”

“Teach me how to draw.”

Marinette bit her lip, looking longingly at the colored pencils. Then, she pushed them back towards Damian.

“I want you to give me weapons training. As often as I teach you drawing.”

I may be naturally talented at combat, but the other girls have been training their entire lives. I need to catch up.

Damian eyed her suspiciously. “That’s against the rules.”

“So? Are you scared?”

“Never.”

“Then it’s a deal?”

“It’s a deal.”

Damian lunged, making a displeased noise when his quarry danced out of his reach.

“You’re slow today, Dami,” Marinette teased. “Losing your touch?”

Marinette was no longer the scared little girl she’d been at five, or even at seven. She’d thrown herself into her training with single-minded determination and two years of training with Talia by day and Damian by night had made her a formidable – and snarky – combatant.

“Never,” Damian replied. His next attack nearly threw her off-balance.

With a grunt, Marinette recovered her footing and countered with a flurry of blows that would have left a lesser opponent dizzy.

Damian smirked, parrying each attack easily. “Completely mediocre. Should I tell my mother that her protégé is slipping?”

Although he’d never admit it, Damian was proud of her. She’d gone from being the worst of the League’s trainees to the only one able to keep up with him in a fight.

“Me? Slipping? Not a chance.” Marinette flipped backwards, knocking his weapon away. “Hey, Damian?”

“Yes, Marinette?” He scooped up his katana, readying himself for her next move.

“The floor is lava.”

With a startled intake of air, he leaped onto the nearest table.

“Really?” he asked, half annoyed, half amused.

Marinette giggled, peering down at him from her spot in the ceiling rafters. “I thought we could use an extra challenge.”

Damian glanced up at her. “You just like having the high ground.”

“Technically speaking, it’s the high rafter,” she pointed out.

“Either way, it won’t prevent me from defeating you,” Damian said, pulling himself into the rafters.

At that moment, the door opened and they both immediately went still.

“Damian? Are you here?”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him. “Skipping again?” she mouthed.

Damian shrugged in response.

Rolling her eyes, Marinette gestured to the vents behind him. “I’ll meet you in the lower training rooms to finish our bout.”

“Marinette!” The teacher startled as she caught a glimpse of the pigtailed girl. “What are you doing up there?”

Effortlessly, the girl swung down from the ceiling, drawing the teacher’s attention away from Damian’s hiding place.

“Just improving my arm strength, Mistress Eva.” As she distracted his teacher with false information about his whereabouts, Damian climbed into the vents.

Marinette makes a surprisingly tolerable ally.

It didn’t seem to matter how many people Marinette killed; it never got easier. Surrounded by the bodies of Deathstroke’s traitors, she retched.

She was alone. Somehow, in the midst of the fight, she’d gotten separated from the rest of the League’s loyalists.

I need to get moving. I’m an easy target right now.

With a shuddering breath, she climbed to her feet and made her way out of the compound and into the shadows. It was there, staring at the ruins of the League’s strongest base, that the realization hit her.

“I’m free,” Marinette whispered, tears trickling down her face.

The Head of the Demon was dead, his followers scattered.

“I can finally go home.”

She ignored the voice in her mind that said her home was here, with the League, with Damian. She ignored the tightness in her chest at the thought of never seeing Damian again. She ignored the fear that he might already be dead.

The League kidnapped me. Talia abused me. Even if I managed to be happy here, I owe the Al Ghuls nothing. A vow of loyalty made under duress is no vow at all.

Her hands curled into fists.

And if they come for me again, I’ll be ready.

Damian scowled as their plane descended into Gotham.

“This is imbecilic. I should be assisting you in decimating our enemies, not hiding like a frightened child.”

“Damian,” his mother’s voice was cold. “This is not up for negotiation. You will stay here and train with your father.”

“Yes, Mother,” he replied bitterly. A moment passed, then he tilted his head in thought. “But what of my betrothed? If she is to be my equal, should she not train with me?”

Talia studied him carefully. “You use the singular of betrothed,” she noted. “Despite the fact that three remain alive. I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me which one you consider your wife-to-be?”

“Tt. Your protégé, the Cheng girl, is the only one that even approaches competent. You know this.”

“I also know that you trained her separately – against my orders,” Talia said.

Damian nearly flinched. “And yet you didn’t stop me.”

“I wonder if that was a mistake,” his mother said. “You feel more for her than you should.”

“She is an effective ally. That is all.”

“Then you won’t mind being separated from her for a while.”

“Not at all, Mother,” Damian lied.

“Marinette? Is that you?” Her mother looked as if she’d seen a ghost.

Marinette smiled. “Hello, Mama.”

Sabine reached out a shaking hand to cup her face. “How are you here? We saw you die.”

“Sabine, do you know where – ” Tom dropped the pan of croissants. “Marinette?”

He jumped over the counter and raced to her. Marinette took a step back before her mind caught up with her body.

This is Papa, you idiot. He’s not a threat.

She threw herself into his arms, shoving away her fears.

Twisting to face her mother, she said, “I don’t know how my death was faked, but I never died. The League kidnapped me.”

Tom’s arms tightened around her.

“The League?” Sabine’s face went pale. “What did they want with you?”

“The usual,” Marinette said with a shrug. “Revenge on you for leaving and a capable assassin and potential wife for Damian if I turned out to be any good.”

“Who’s Damian?” Tom asked with a frown.

Marinette grinned. “Oh, Damian’s great! He’s the Heir to the League, but he’s actually pretty okay for an assassin. He helped me get good enough to survive. You know, after I blackmailed and bribed him.”

“What?”

Meeting his father did not go the way Damian had imagined.

Talia always spoke of Bruce Wayne’s great intellect, his strength in combat, his determination in all things. She never mentioned his brainless playboy act, his absurd prohibition of killing, or his habit of taking in strays. Damian wasn’t sure which one was most offensive, but he was incredibly disappointed in his father regardless.

He had to reassess after he saw Batman at work. When not purposely acting like a buffoon, Bruce Wayne was everything his mother had described and more, entirely deserving of Damian’s respect.

He set out to prove himself in his father’s eyes. It didn’t go well. Whatever he did, it was the wrong thing. In any fight with the imposter sons, Damian was punished – even if he won. Assisting his father with Wayne Enterprises was met with an eye-roll and a request to stay away from Bruce’s office.

It should have made Damian angry but instead it hurt and Damian did not understand why.

And then his father was gone. Richard Grayson became Batman.

Damian became Robin. Finally.

And yet the triumph felt hollow.

Not to mention, it came with strings attached: ‘Murder is bad.’ ‘Justice, not vengeance.’ ‘Robin doesn’t kill.’ ‘Protect rather than avenge.’

Grayson’s teachings were imbecilic. And yet he had to follow them. His mother had yet to finish with the traitors.

He wondered where Marinette was, if she was undergoing similar training, if she fought the way he did to reign in the bloodlust. Considering how she had to hide her dislike of killing, how she helped heal her competitors, he thought probably not.

Slowly, things got easier. Grayson became tolerable. Damian learned to suppress the instinct, the muscle memory that said ‘kill or be killed.’ He found an adoration for animals and learned to deal with his classmates. He finally began to understand why Grayson and his father valued life so highly. His father came back and he chose to deny the League. Wayne Manor became home.

On days when he struggled, he retreated to his room and the comfort of his sketchbook. And if a certain blue-eyed girl made an appearance every few pages, well, who would know but him?

Returning home did not go the way Marinette had imagined.

She knew it wouldn’t be sunshine and roses, of course. But she hadn’t expected the magnitude of the changes in her home, or in herself.

School was laughably easy. Marinette had the equivalent of several college degrees. Finding x and learning how to spell ‘earthquake’ was a waste of her time. Instead, she spent class drawing and coming up with increasingly complex plans for fighting off the League should they try to kidnap her again.

She kept herself closed off from her classmates – she didn’t know how she’d ever called them friends. They were neutral parties at best – not one ever stood up for her against Chloe. Her parents encouraged them to give her classmates a chance, but the League had trained her well. Misplaced trust could kill. And Marinette had fought long enough for survival to know that dropping your guard was a death knell.

She hated hurting her parents though.

Though they tried to hide it, she saw the pain cross their faces when she flinched away from hugs. When she moved like an assassin rather than a child. When she gave away her stuffed animals. When she skipped family game night and spent her time training.

She hated hurting her parents. So she changed.

Marinette locked away her lethal grace, faking clumsiness and turning it into an art form. She hid her weapons, training only when her parents were asleep. She returned to family game nights; she initiated hugs. At school, she became bubbly and friendly again, though she trusted no one.

More than anything, she tried to atone. She sought out those in need and tried to help – whether by providing food, babysitting, or making them warm clothing. She discovered an interest in fashion design, but mostly stuck to making the essentials for those in need. She met a tiny floating bug named Tikki and became a superhero.

On days when she struggled, she retreated to her room and the comfort of her sketchbook. And if green eyes and a cocky smirk featured prominently in the book, well, who would know but her?

Damian frowned as he followed his brother into Wayne Enterprises.

"I don't understand why it's so important for me to be here."

"C'mon, Baby Bird!" Dick said. "You said you wanted to be more involved in the company!"

"I meant the business side of things," Damian said. "I have no interest in showing around a gaggle of unruly teenagers."

"You're a teenager too," Dick pointed out. "It'll be fun!"

Damian sniffed. "I'm an adult. And fun, really? Surely you don't truly believe that?"

Dick sighed. "Just give it a chance, okay? They seem like really great kids."

They walked into the lobby and Damian stopped short, eyes catching on long black hair and brilliant blue eyes.

"Marinette?"

In truth, Marinette wasn't all that excited about the Wayne Enterprises tour. The architecture was interesting, sure, but her class had a habit of making themselves a target and Bruce Wayne's patronage was not helping.

She gave it three days, at most, before they got in trouble with Gotham's Rouges.

Which meant she was on 'keep the class from dying' duty. Joy.

She kept her eyes and ears peeled, which meant that she heard the faint whisper of her name from an unfamiliar voice.

"Marinette?"

Forest-green eyes filled with far too much emotion had her breath catching in her throat.

"Damian?"

With obvious effort, the League's Heir pulled himself together. "Fancy meeting you here, Dupain-Cheng."

His voice. Oh, kwami, it should be illegal to look AND sound that good. Nope. Nope. Not doing this. He's an assassin, get your act together, Marinette.

"Al-Ghul." She was proud that her voice betrayed nothing. "I have to admit, I'm surprised to see you here. This doesn't seem like your scene."

She reached out for a handshake and was taken off guard when Damian kissed her hand instead. She blushed.

"It's Wayne now," Damian said. "I'm... no longer associated with the Al-Ghuls. Or their business."

He's not an assassin anymore? Yes! I knew you were a good person deep, deep down, Dami!

"Really? I broke ties with them several years ago myself."

See that, Damian? We're both good people. Good people that would be great toget - no! Bad Marinette!

Damian grinned. "In that case, I look forward to reconnecting. Perhaps after the tour?"

Oh, kwami, I'm doomed.

"I'd like that."

"What was that?" Dick asked in a low voice. "I've never seen you open up to someone so quickly."

With difficulty, Damian tore his gaze from Marinette.

Stars, she grew up gorgeous.

Damian smirked. "Don't be ridiculous, Grayson. I met Marinette over a decade ago."

I wonder, does she still consider our betrothal valid?

"Wait, so she's an assassin?" Grayson blanched. "Who is she here to kill? Who do I have to protect? Ugh! Why can't you ever have normal friends?"

"Relax," Damian chided. "She's an ex-assassin. Like me."

"That does not make me feel better. Who is she to you?"

Damian hummed in thought, running through years of teasing, fighting, and spending time together. "She was my first friend."

And maybe now something more.

#daminette #maribat #maribat angst and fluff april

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mochegato · 4 years ago

Text

Jasonette Protection Program

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Marinette pulled her coat closer around her as she made her way from the bus stop to her apartment. She had made the brilliant decision when she moved here not to get a car because… Gotham. The likelihood that it would get damaged or destroyed in some kind of attack was ridiculously high. The likelihood the bus would get blown up or taken over, while definitely still present, was significantly lower.

But today she was regretting that decision. It meant she couldn’t isolate herself like she wanted to. It meant she was exposed to anybody and everybody at the bus stop and on the bus and on the sidewalk and any one of them could have been the one to drug her. She eyed the people around her as she walked. Okay, maybe not the woman who looked like she was in her 90’s and could barely walk… and dropped her knitting out of her bag.

Marinette rushed over to her and paused right before reaching her. She twirled around and scanned the faces around her. She could feel somebody watching her. She could feel their eyes scrutinizing her every move. She studied the shadows and the windows, but couldn’t find anyone watching her. She frowned slightly and shook her head. She was getting paranoid. She was seeing and feeling things that weren’t there.

She sighed and turned back to the woman, crouching down to help her put her knitting back in her bag. The woman smiled in appreciation, which Marinette returned with a shaky one of her own. She walked the remaining few feet to her apartment building and took a cautious look up and down the dark street before turning into it. She made sure she heard the click of the door latching before continuing up the stairs, not that it would do anything. Logically she knew that, but her anxiety still demanded it.

She kept her eyes on the stairwell as she made her way up to her apartment on the top floor, eyes hyper vigilant for any movement, her ears hyper sensitive to any sounds from the stairs. She got to her floor and paused for a few moments waiting to see if any sounds or movement indicated someone behind her. She let out a relieved sigh when there was no noise and turned to her apartment before letting out a muffled screech.

Jason jumped, dropping his phone he had been scrolling on, in his rush to hold up his hands in a placating motion. “Just me. It’s okay. It’s just me.” He watched her for a few seconds. She was starting to breathe hard, her eyes were boring into him. “Although I just realized you may not remember me. So this was actually an incredibly stupid plan.” He took a few steps away from her door, his hands still held up to let her know he wasn’t a threat.

Marinette continued to stare at him for a few more seconds, forcing her breathing to slow. “You… you’re Tim’s brother, right? You… you were…” she squinted at him, “you were in my bedroom?”

Jason grimaced and looked down to the floor as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah… that doesn’t make me sound too good, does it?”

She eyed him suspiciously. “What are you doing here?”

He perked up slightly and gave her a small, reassuring smile. “I wanted to check on you and see how you’re doing today. It can hit a day or a few days later sometimes. And I’m a security expert. I consult on it for people and companies. I wanted to offer to check your security for you so you’d feel safe, at least when you’re at home.” He turned to her door and knocked on the doorframe. “I can already tell that you need better locks. I could have broken in easily, but I didn’t think you would appreciate finding me in your apartment.”

She raised an eyebrow at him but let out a quiet chuckle and looked away after a few seconds. “You would be right.” She looked back up at him and tentatively walked over closer to her door. “But, I don’t think I can afford to hire you.”

Jason waved off her concern. “I wouldn’t let you. I’d charge Tim for it. He can afford it and he’s worried enough that I’m actually kind of surprised he hasn’t contacted me already, but I suppose that has something to do with him not wanting you to meet me in the first place.”

Marinette quirked her lips to the side and studied him. The longer she watched and talked to him the more memories came back and the clearer they became. She was slowly starting to get bits and pieces of the night before, not enough to create a coherent picture, just incredibly short scenes, a word here, a smile there. Regardless of what she could remember though, this was Tim’s brother and although Tim didn’t want them to meet, he trusted him, not that she would ever be allowed to say that out loud to either of them.

She finally nodded and pulled out her keys. “Well, I can at least offer you dinner while you’re here. If you’d like.” She gave him a small smile as she passed him into the apartment taking off her coat and dropping her bag on the small dining room table.

Jason raised his eyebrows in surprise. After the way she had reacted when she saw him, he honestly didn’t think she would talk to him let alone let him into her apartment. He was starting to understand how she could have gotten drugged so easily if she was that trusting. But then again, Tim had said they all were being careful. Her even more so than the others. So why was she so trusting now? “I would never turn down free food,” he said slowly.

He closed the door behind him with a quick glance at the inside part of the lock, confirming his original suspicions. Standard issue, not particularly secure. He could have picked it in all of three minutes when he was only eight. He didn’t have to lean down to study the doorknob to know it was in worse condition. One good kick and the door would be wide open. He sighed. If anyone wanted to get into her apartment, it wouldn’t take them very much effort.

He turned back to the apartment, letting his frown morph into a smile. Her apartment was cozy and lived in and very much her. There were touches of her everywhere along with some touches that he wouldn’t have expected. He shook his head at the condition of the apartment. It wasn’t terribly messy but it also wouldn’t count as anything close to clean. He could see why she and Tim got along so well. Neither could clean up after themselves to save their lives.

There were bits of fabric and half completed sewing projects scattered around along with random pages of scientific reports. He raised an eyebrow at that. Odd combination. His eyes caught on men’s shoes by the door. He scrunched his forehead in confusion. If she lived with someone, where were they? Where were they last night? Why hadn’t Tim mentioned him? “You live with someone? A boyfriend?”

Marinette looked up from the refrigerator. “No. Well, yes, but no. I live with my best friend,” she explained quickly, “but he’s visiting friends this week.”

Jason nodded. That was good at least. She wasn’t living alone. There was someone else with her usually. That makes it less likely someone could just break in and attack her. He moved over to the window and sighed again, more deeply this time. It was worse than the door. “No curtains. You should probably get some, preferably lined ones. This lock is ancient too. It wouldn’t take much to jimmy it. We’ll get you new locks for your windows and your door.”

Marinette looked at him wide eyed as she set a bunch of grapes and a jug of filtered water from the refrigerator on the counter. She hadn’t been expecting the locks to be that bad. She knew it wasn’t amazing, but then again, she hadn’t really been too concerned about being specifically targeted here. Nobody really knew who she was, or rather used to be. She was just an average citizen here.

She stared at the window for a few seconds, her head cocking to the side and her eyes unfocusing as her mind wandered through the possibilities of what could have happened and what still could. She was no longer safe, not even in her own home. But then again, she never really had been had she? She had just thought she was. She thought she was safer after they’d defeated Hawkmoth, but she’d just traded one danger for another.

Jason watched as her face morphed from one expression to another, her eyes distant. Her face clearly displaying each and every emotion she was going through, no matter how flitting. Jason could guess where her head went. When her eyes started shimmering, he opened his mouth to bring her out of it when her phone rang. She jerked back violently, knocking over the jug of water.

She cursed as she tried to stop the jug’s descent only to knock it further away, further spreading the water. She gave a defeated groan and grabbed a towel from a nearby drawer to start sopping up the water. Jason jumped to grab a few more towels to help. It took a few minutes, but they were finally able to clean up the water with a minimum of damage to papers left on the counter. Luckily, none of Marinette’s sketches were on the island anymore but Adrien was definitely going to have to reprint some of his papers for research.

Marinette gave Jason an appreciative smile and threw the papers in recycling and the towels in the sink. She let out a deep frustrated sigh as she leaned against the counter. After a few seconds, she ran her hands through her hair and laughed. Jason frowned at the sound. It was short and mirthless and sounded utterly wrong coming from her. He could see her starting to spin but didn’t know her well enough to know how to help. God, he really hadn’t thought this through.

Jason very slowly started reaching for her so she could see his hands coming. Shen she didn’t shy away, he set a hand on her arm to ground her. She looked up into his eyes, panicked eyes meeting concerned eyes. They both jumped when her phone started ringing again. They both chuckled quietly at their reactions.

“Sorry…” she started but was cut off by another ring. She shook her head at herself. She hadn’t even noticed the original call had dropped. She checked the caller id and smiled at the phone. “Hey Tim.” She paused to listen to him. “No, I’m fine. I just… I knocked something over and was cleaning it. Sorry for scaring you.”

She gave Jason an apologetic smile as she listened to Tim. “I’m doing okay, I guess. I think I’m just jumpy… and getting paranoid. I could have sworn someone was watching me walk home, but when I looked nobody was around or rather nobody was paying attention to me.” She missed the slight grimace Jason shot toward the floor. “No, thank you though. Actually, your brother is here already.” She smiled at Jason again and put Tim on speaker.

“…that so. That’s very thoughtful of him,” Tim quipped in a clipped tone.

“Yeah, he’s checking my locks,” Marinette continued, seemingly oblivious to the tension in his voice, or attributing it to his concern. “Apparently my door and window locks are pretty bad,” Marinette frowned at the thought.

“Uh huh. Well it’s just so great that he came over then,” Tim gritted out.

Marinette did a double take when Jason’s phone dinged repeatedly with an extended series of text notifications. She blinked at it a few times before looking questioningly at Jason. He rolled his eyes and turned his phone off. He met her eyes with a shrug and a wink as he sat at her island.

“Tell him I say hi and remind him he has plans with Bruce soon,” Tim continued tightly.

Jason huffed. “Tell him to tell B, I'm not going on patrol until Demon Spawn calms down. And tell him I’m sending him the bill for this.” He motioned vaguely around them.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Tim conceded easily before his voice turned harsh again, “And tell him…”

“You two do realize you can hear each other and you two both know you can hear each other and I know you can hear each other and I’m not an owl!” Marinette admonished them sharply.

The room was silent for a few seconds before Tim started chuckling. “Sorry, Hermione.”

“Thank you, Harry.” She nodded at the phone even though he couldn’t see her.

“Hey! That makes me Ron? What the fuck?” Jason objected raising up from his seat in offense.

“Oh come on, you’d look good with red hair,” Marinette teased him lightly.

“You better fucking not be Ron,” Tim growled. “You’re more like Draco anyway,” he continued flippantly.

“Fuck you, Pretender,” Jason growled.

“Yeah, this is making me feel better,” Marinette sighed, leaning against the counter.

There was a guilty pause as the men took in her words. “Sorry,” Jason finally spoke up after a while.

“What?” Marinette gave him a curious look until realization set in. “Oh! No, I was serious. You two remind me of my friends. It feels comforting, normal.”

Tim waited a second before speaking up cautiously. “So… you’re okay for tonight? You feel safe?”

Marinette smiled at the phone again. “Yeah, Tim. I’m okay. Thanks for checking on me.”

“Of course. Let me know if that changes. I’ll be over in three minutes flat,” he promised.

Marinette grinned mischievously. “Do I get a free pizza if you take longer?”

Tim huffed out a laugh. “Absolutely.”

“Sweet. I might test it just for that,” she teased him. “Night, Tim.”

“Night. And tell Jason to turn his phone back on before I do it for him.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Still not an owl,” she singsonged before she hung up. She looked over to Jason with a concerned smile. “Do you have to go? It sounded like you already had plans?”

Jason waved her off and took the battery out of his phone before leaning against the counter near her. “I have plenty of time. Like I said, if I show up now De… Damian is going to attack me.” Marinette’s eyes widened in concern but Jason waved her off again. “It’s fine. He isn’t as tough as he thinks he is. He wouldn’t be able to hurt me, but Bruce would yell at me for it and Dick would give me his disappointed in you lecture. It’s better for everyone if I stay away for a few days.”

He grinned and crossed his arms over his chest. “Tim just doesn’t want me stealing his friend away with my superior looks and charm.”

Marinette scowled lightly at him. “Tim is very handsome and charming,” she insisted defensively.

Jason shot her a devilish smile. “But not as much as me, right?”

Marinette scoffed at him and rolled her eyes. “You certainly seem to think so.” She rinsed some grapes and set them in a bowl between the two of them. “But he’s the only reason you’re here right now. If you weren’t Tim’s brother and we hadn’t met last night when you were fairly respectful of me in my… state…”

“Fairly!?” Jason squawked.

“I’d have called, well, not the cops, but Tim, to take care of you,” she continued over him. She grabbed a grape and chewed on it while she watched him appraisingly as she leaned back against the counter opposite him. “Do you make a habit of stealing his friends?”

Jason shrugged and grabbed a few grapes. “No, we generally move in different…” he searched for a nice way to phrase it, “circles.”

She hummed in response. “And yet here you are, willingly entering in a circle with one of his friends.” She eyed him pointedly. She quickly broke their eye contact to look down and cross her arms over her chest protectively. “Thank you for breaking into this particular circle to help me out. Last night spooked me more than I want to admit.”

“Did you want to talk about it? Or pretend like it never happened. I can help with either,” Jason offered.

Marinette stared at the grapes for a while without talking. Jason was certain she was about to start spiraling again when she spoke up quietly. “I was keeping an eye on my drinks. I only took my eyes off of them when I was around people I trusted and we weren’t exactly close to other people for someone to just slip something in.” She frowned and looked at nothing in particular. She poured herself a glass of water and held the rim of the glass against her lips without drinking it as she remembered the night before. “I don’t know which scares me more, that someone was that good to get it in with all of us there or…”

“That one of the people you trust might be responsible,” Jason finished for her after a few seconds of silence. When she looked up to meet her eyes, she looked so shaken and uncertain, he wanted to pull her into a tight, reassuring hug, but after the night before, he wasn’t sure a virtual stranger’s embrace would be the most reassuring. He settled for moving to lean against the counter next to her so their arms were almost touching, but she still had her personal space.

“Yeah,” she said wrapping her arms around herself and rubbing her arms.

“You think you were the intended victim?” he asked curiously. He and Tim had already discussed the night and decided that she had to be, but he was curious what her thoughts were. “You don’t think it was just opportunistic. You think whoever was with targeting you.”

She shook her head and looked down, frowning at the floor. She gripped her arms tighter. “I don’t know. I was never alone and I only drank with my friends at our own table away from other people. I mean someone at the bar could have drugged it before it was brought over when the waitress brought drinks but…”

“How would they know who it would go to,” Jason finished again. “Seems unlikely they’d risk the drug like that if they didn’t know who it would go to. If they didn’t have a plan to get the person out.”

Marinette looked up at him anxiously and nodded. She studied him for a few more seconds before she shook herself out of her daze. She looked up at him with a fake smile. “So what are you feeling for dinner? I can make some pasta. I can do stir fry. I can whip up a casserole. What do you want?”

“I’ll be happy with whatever you feel like having tonight,” he assured her with a smile.

“I don’t… really… feel like eating,” she mumbled, looking away again. “This is more something for me to focus on instead of last night.”

Jason gave her a gentle smile and lowered himself to her level, trying to gain her attention. “Look, I know you don’t know me but why don’t we order take out and we can watch a movie, or if you want to be alone, I can leave.”

“I don’t want to be alone,” she answered quickly, instantly looking over to him with a desperate look in her eyes.

Jason nodded slowly and gave her a gentle smile. He rested his hands lightly on her arms to reassure her he was there and not going anywhere unless she wanted him to. “That’s understandable. I wouldn’t want to be either. Do you want me to call Tim over? I know you probably feel safer with him and when he can’t be here in three minutes, you get a pizza.”

She gave him a wan smile. “No, I trust you. And I’m not really feeling pizza right now.”

Jason smiled back. “I want to joke and say that’s a terrible decision, but now doesn’t seem like the best time.” She gave him a deadpan look that made his grin widen. “I’ll save that for later,” he finished with a wink. His expression quickly turned serious as he watched her. “You should eat though. What kind of food do you want to try? There’s a good Indian restaurant around the corner.”

She looked away. “I don’t want to order out. I don’t want food that I…”

Jason nodded and moved closer again. “Yeah, that’s reasonable. Let’s make something together, yeah? I saw some eggs and milk in your refrigerator and there’s bread on the counter. How do you feel about breakfast for dinner? French toast sound good? I think you call it Lost Bread? And how do you feel about Clueless?”

“The movie?” she asked confused.

“Yeah, adaptation of Jane Austen’s Emma.”

“Fan of Alicia Silverstone or Jane Austen?” she teased weakly.

“Both,” Jason answered with a wink.

Marinette snickered and nodded. “That all sounds amazing.” She moved away to start getting the pan and bowls out, watching him while he got the ingredients prepared. “Thank you, Jason. You have no idea how much this means to me.”

“No problem. We’ll get things figured out so you can feel safe, or at least as safe as you can feel in Gotham,” he assured her, and himself. They were going to find who drugged her and make her feel safe again. Whoever it was messed with one of Tim’s friends, one of the few he really trusted, that means whoever it was messed with his family and nobody messed with their family.

Tags:

@jasonette-july-event @maribatserver @aespades @demonicbusiness @read-fantasy-to-escape-reality @jayjayspixiepop

#maribat #jasonette #Jasonette July #Jasonette July 2021 #prompt - night #Jasonette Protection Program

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coffee--writes · 4 years ago

Text

The Message on the Wall

Pairing: James Potter x gn!Reader - Marauders x Reader Content

Word Count: 5.9k (jdklfdh im sorry)

Warnings: Underage Drinking, Implications of... yeah. I think that’s about it.

Requested: Yes, a long time (i feel bad for only getting to it but i hope the nonnie stuck around to see this piece) by an anon who asked for James x Reader with childhood best friends to lovers trope.

Summary: In which, James Potter was busy writing himself a message on the wall but was too blind to read what he had to say.

Pictures.

In actuality they were only images. For Muggles, they stood stagnant, for James Potter they moved slightly.

But in deeper meaning pictures were moments in time captured in a frame. They were a personal reminder of things that were, things that used to be and anything else that didn’t fall into one of the other two categories.

James Potter adored pictures. His room was littered with them. A handful were of Quidditch players and Tutshill Tornados merchandise. One picture of him and his parents sat on the nightstand beside his bed. But adjourned on the wall to the left was a mostly blank wall. One small Tornados banner was pinned against the soft red paint and in the middle a picture he was particularly fond of.

The film captured James at the age of four. A broom was clutched in his left hand and a toothy smile on his face as the wind rustled his hair causing it to stick up more than it already did. Beside him was you, your eyes crossed and your tongue licking a swirled lolly.

When his mother had shown him the picture you had just left for home, making a young James quite sad that his friend couldn’t stay just a little longer. Euphemia Potter had smiled, handing the picture to her son. “It’s okay, my love. Now you have a piece of Y/N with you.”

“How?” James had asked, his lower lip jutting out in a frown.

Euphemia laughed. “The picture captures you together. Look how happy the two of you look!” she points at her son’s smile in the photo. “You can do whatever you’d like with it.”

James grinned, his eyes lighting up once more. “I want to hang it, mum!” he dragged her hand into the bedroom with him, climbing on top of his bedsheets and pressing the picture to the wall. “Here. That way I can say goodnight to them even when they're not here.”

Euphemia Potter smiled watching as her son tucked himself under the covers. “That’s a brilliant idea, James.” With a wave of her wand, two pins fastened themself to the wall, the photo beneath.

That was the beginning of James’s love for pictures. More pictures would accumulate such as the one of him and his father at a Tornados game. Drawings you would give him of flowers and Kneazles. The pictures would come and go but yours stayed the same. An additional picture of you and James would later be added three years later when the two of you were seven. James’s broom no longer sat in one hand, instead was gripped with two and hovering five feet off the ground. He had a wicked smile on his face, his glasses slightly falling down his nose. You sat behind him, your small fingers clutching to his waist as the picture captured you mid-squeal.

Time went on yet the pictures of the two of you stayed the same. Along with your drawings, which had improved dramatically since you were seven, he’d occasionally find a Hollyhead Harpies banner plastered to his wall. When he came to scold you, pink banners adjourned in his hand, you’d laugh at the pout on his lips. He could never stay angry at you and always joined in on your laughter.

The final year before things would slightly change was the year before going to Hogwarts. A third picture was added at the age of ten. The Potter family had accompanied your family on a trip to Diagon Alley in which you had bought your screech owl, Juniper. James had one arm wrapped around you. His hair was untidy and a goofy smile was on his face as his other hand flicked your forehead. Your eyes were closed mid-laugh as one hand pushed his face away and the other perched with Juniper who screeched happily on your available arm.

Again, time went on quickly and changes were made in James Potter’s room but you were not one of them. He packed up his Hogwarts things the night of August 31st, leaving his room full of pictures with a soft smile.

You rode on the train with him, both of you waving goodbye to your loved ones. You grinned at him wickedly, “Excited?” you ask.

“Definitely.” he responded. “Do you have money for the trolley?”

You slide into a train compartment, one small boy already sitting there. “Yeah. Do you need to borrow some?”

James nodded and you rolled your eyes, handing money over to the kind witch who passed by, grabbing pumpkin pasties for you and Bertie Botts for James.

The ride was life-changing as you made acquaintances with similar mindsets. Two more boys entered your compartment and along with the scrawny boy from before, all of you made it to Gryffindor. “Where dwell the brave at heart” as James liked to put it.

First year was an interesting feat with James quickly falling head over heels for Lily Evans. Your friendship never faltered although the thought of her in his life made you feel odd. However, you were sure she wouldn’t be in his life for quite some time seeing as his persistent efforts were met with an equally stubborn rejection.

“She’s a firecracker, that one.” he sighed, walking beside you down the hall after another devastating encounter with Lily.

“You’re just embarrassing yourself now, my boy.” you reply, dubbing his nickname to ease the comment.

He smirked. “Then why do you hang out with me?”

“Because, I’m the one who makes sure you don’t cross the line from embarrassing to mortifying.”

He shakes his head with a silly grin. “I doubt that. You love me. That’s why.”

You laugh, an effective way of avoiding the curious ideas that ran through your young mind. “Don’t throw around the l- word so quickly! You’ve got to mean it.”

James bumped your side. “But I’ve known you for years.”

You ruffle his hair, making it messier than it already was. “Save it for Evans.”

---

The year ended and the two of you went home to Northern England hands overflowing with Gryffindor red, spirits high with a drive for Quidditch practice and addresses from Remus, Peter, and Sirius tucked away in your pockets.

James’s room changed tremendously that first year. Alongside the Tutshill Tornados merchandise were small Gryffindor banners, lions enchanted to roar at the touch. You had given him one of your sketches from the school year, one of Sirius and him laughing in Transfiguration, another of him and Peter skipping stones. The pictures of the two of you still remained, a small collection of dust coating the edges which he wiped away with a smile.

Second year was merry and full of high spirits. James had acquired his father’s invisibility cloak which gave cause to a number of nighttime rendezvous and adventures in the kitchens. Suspicion arose on Remus, whose monthly disappearances came to your attention. With the help of Sirius and Peter, the group soon discovered Remus’s guarded secret and accepted the furry little problem with open arms.

The Lily Evans situation did not get any better with James’s persistence holding up fiercely and her hatred toward him even more harsh. As Sirius had dubbed it, “Mate, at this point you’re never getting married.” Remus and Peter whole-heartedly agreed, sending James into an adolescent spiral.

“What if I don’t get married, Y/N/N?” he confided in you by the shores of the Black Lake.

You chuckled, his delirium quite adorable. “You’re going to get married, James. Trust me.”

He sighed, snapping a twig between his fingers. “It’s not definite.”

“Nothing is.” you counter.

James groaned. “I know. I know. But I would like it to be. Wouldn’t you?”

You contemplated the idea, a thought coming to your head. “What if it could be?”

He stared at you curiously. Your eyes lit up and James grinned. “Hit me.”

“If by the time we are thirty neither of us are married then we should get married to each other.” you propose, a proud smile on your face. “That way we can have a definite of our own.”

James grinned. “I like that idea. But what if one of us gets married before that?”

You frown. “Then I guess it’d be a flop. But it’s better than nothing, right?”

He agreed quickly. The sun was setting into a pond of pink. The wind rustled and birds chirped and the moment seemed picture perfect and James wished a camera would magically pop up and capture the moment so he’d be able to hang it on his wall for years to come. It did not work that way, instead, he turned to you with a smirk. “I don’t have anything to propose with.”

You looked down in embarrassment and gave him a shove. “We’re not getting married yet! It’s just a deal not the real thing.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “I know but it feels as though something special should happen. How about we seal with a spit swear?”

You stick your tongue out and pretend to gag. “Ew! No.” you flick his forehead causing him to wince. He grins before flicking you back, watching as you fall back onto the grass.

“I guess a flick works as well.” he sighs. “Y/N Potter has a nice ring to it.”

Your head falls against his shoulder. “I can’t believe I might be a Potter one day. Sounds disgusting.”

James laughs, the weight of your head feeling oddly familiar against his shoulder. “Oh, shut it!”

---

The years came and went. Third year, James made the Quidditch team and he quickly became a ladies man despite his obvious pining over Evans. You made sure to keep his feet on the ground as you didn’t want his ego to get larger than it already was. You came to all his games, occasionally bringing a camera so that James could add his moments of glory onto his beloved room wall. There was the time he tried dedicating a shot to you and ended up getting knocked off his broom by a Beater.

He made the next one thankfully.

On the other hand, you had earned the title of master dueler amongst the third years for your quick arm and sharp spellcasting. While James was at Quidditch practice: you, Peter, Remus, and Sirius would practice in empty classrooms although after a while they became rather bored as you would always win. James would cheer you on, even when you beat him there was a compliment of your skill and he was more than anything, proud.

The summer between third and fourth year was the year the Marauders got their first group picture together. Everyone had met up at the Potter residence, Euphemia Potter snapping the photo with Sirius and James to the left, Peter and Remus on the right, and you in the middle. James hung the picture on his wall as it was routine by now. The whole gang got to see his famous wall of pictures, his life an open storybook to anyone who looked closely.

Fourth year sparked love, pranks, and new ideas. Peter went on his first date, flaming at the cheeks as his friends waved him off embarrassingly. Group pranks ensued upon Snape whose oily hair was dyed all colors of the rainbow by the end of the first semester. You had gone on your first date as well, Steven Goldstein from Hufflepuff whom James threatened to beat up and Sirius who gave him “a talk”.

Most importantly, the group addressed Remus’s furry little problem seeing as each year he came back with more and more scars than before. Two ideas sparked up from the meeting and both were large feats that every member of the group was willing to take.

“So wait..” Peter asked. “You want to make a map… that tracks everyone in Hogwarts?”

James nodded and Remus shook his head. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Don’t look at me that way, Remus.”

Remus shoved him lightly. “How would that even work though? Isn’t it a little invasive?”

You smiled. “It most certainly is invasive but think about how awesome it’d be to have something like that. All we would need is…”

“A complex locator spell.” you and Sirius said together.

Everyone grinned. “Pete can do the drawing and sketching. He’s good at that stuff. We should check for secret passageways. All of us could do the magic. We’ve got the brains.”

“I don’t think someone with brilliant magic technique would use the word brain to describe their intelligence.” you point out. James simply flicked you in the head.

“And there’s the Animagi thing…” Sirius added.

“That’s a reach.” Remus replied.

“More than the map?” Peter questioned.

Remus sighed. “You guys don’t have to do that for me. I’ve been transforming on my own for years. No need to have buddies now.”

“Nonsense.” you say. “Anything for you, Rem. This is what you deserve.”

The friends looked at each other silently. “Are we ready to pull off the biggest student feat in Hogwarts history?” Sirius whispered.

“Aye, aye.” Everyone cheered.

Peter grinned. “We’re up to no good.”

James smiled back. “Then let us manage our mischief well.”

WIth that the group commenced, exiting the abandoned classroom they used and taking off to class. James walked by your side as you headed to astronomy together.

“I can’t wait till we pin this down. It’s going to be an epic year.” he grinned.

You chuckle. “I know you’ll end up stalking someone, Potter. Evans by the looks of it.”

He shook his head, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Nope. I’m gonna stalk you instead. See if you’re hiding any secrets from me.”

You smile. “What secrets could I possibly be hiding from you, my boy?”

James nudged your side with a smirk. “You’re telling me a good-looking fellow like yourself isn’t sneaking off with some other lad other than their best friends.”

You shook your head, the word “good-looking” repeating itself in your mind. “No. If I did I would tell you.”

“Good.” he said, starting up the stairs to the Astronomy tower. “I don’t need some arsehole stealing you away from me.”

You roll your eyes. “No one could ever steal me from you, James. I’m not a Quaffle.”

He nods with a grin. “Yeah. I suppose you’re more of a Snitch.”

You laugh, dashing up the stairs in hopes that you wouldn’t be late for your Astronomy lesson.

---

As one could guess more pictures and sketches made their home on James Potter’s wall. It was a cluttered mess but beautiful nonetheless. It was as though the wall had an expression of its own with its array of Quidditch jerseys, photographs, art, and ticket stubs. Nobody touched the wall except James as he liked having every picture in place. His wall organized the way he liked it best… messy.

Fifth year was the first year you didn’t see James every week. He had eagerly signed up for Quidditch camp and had left for Wales with promises that’d you write about the boys and the progress on the map and Animagi projects. The projects went well with Peter completing the outline sketches of the maps, Remus filling piles of papers on Animagi transformations and finally Sirius and you gathering the needed ingredients for the Animagi process.

You had grown taller over the summer, hair lightening and your features more accentuated. Eagerly you awaited James’s return and when the time did come you had woken up early in the morning to see him arrive by Portkey on the hill. The second he appeared you had rushed over, engulfing him in a hug. You had missed his touch, his constant nagging and overall the James Potterness that followed him around that would never fade with time.

Meanwhile, he was left out of breath, a couple of inches taller and a smile on his face as he squeezed you back. “Y/N/N! I missed you, you lazy hag.”

You laughed, messing up his hair that sat more neatly than in previous years. “And I missed you, my boy.”

The next days before school were spent catching him up on the map and at the pond by your house. With each swim you noticed the changes in James such as the six-pack the tedious trials at Quidditch camp had given him.

“Oi!” you shouted, splashing him in the face. “Whatever happened to the skinny twig that was my friend?”

He smirked. “Oi! Why are you looking?”

You bit your lip, not allowing him to see you flustered. “I’m sorry. You’re my best friend and it’s a very noticeable change!” you pointed at his toned stomach.

James tapped your nose and you stared at him in annoyance. “It’s only noticeable if you want to notice it.”

He turned around, making to walk back to the shore of the pond. You didn’t remember when James had gotten so cheeky although he’d always been that way, just never with you. Wickedly, you took the bucket that floated beside you and dunked it in the water. With a mischievous grin, you snuck up behind him, dumping the bucket of water on his head.

James turned around with a gasp, jaw dropped. You laughed, a wide smile on your lips at the sight of him drenched in his swim trunks. It wasn’t until his arms tucked along your waist, dragging you to the deeper ends of the pond did the smile drop and his return.

“Why you little…” you seethed. “James Fleamont Potter if you-”

It was too late by then, your body submerged in the water and you swam up, his laughter the first noticeable sound. You scowled as he doubled over with laughter on the shore. “I’m never letting you go to Quidditch camp again.”

The two of you walked home as the sun set, many flicks to the forehead ensuing as you did.

---

Fifth year was by far the most epic year of your Hogwarts experience. Everything was prepared for the Animagi transformation and phase two of the map project was ready to launch with Remus having gained access to the restricted section of the library.

It seemed as though the whole student body had recognized the change in James’s physique which only led to an inflation of his ego. The worst part was that Lily Evans just so happened to be one of those said noticers and while her defiance toward him was still strong, she could be caught staring in class much to James’s delight.

The Animagi process began as soon as the September full moon. While Remus suffered in the Shrieking Shack, the four other Marauders set their Mandrake leaves into their mouths preparing for an uncomfortable month of bitterness on their tongues. The leaves were held under their tongues when talking in class and for the rest of the time they resorted to note passing leaving the entirety of Hogwarts wondering why the Marauders went quiet so suddenly.

During the period between moons, they worked on their map. Stacks of books, both regular and restricted, lay among them. Each had a quill and parchment used to take note of spells or pass messages back and forth. As you worked you received a message from James in the form of a crumpled ball of parchment. You smoothed it out with a sigh.

I hate this thing. It tastes like piss and lime.

You held back a chuckle, writing your own message next to his.

You’re not backing out of this, Potter. It’s for Remus.

He stuck the leaf under his tongue in order to stick it out at you and you rolled your eyes. He scribbled a message back.

I know. I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t complain about it.

You smirked, tossing the parchment back to him.

If your scrawny arse can come back from Quidditch camp with abs then you can stomach keeping a leaf in your mouth for a month.

He smoothed it out and you went back to your work only getting in a minute's reading before the parchment bounced off your head. You scowled at his antics but he only looked at his book with a smirk. Unfolding the paper, James’s messy handwriting took up the last blank space on the parchment.

Nice to know you still think about my abs.

Your stomach squirmed at the feeling that inflamed from his words and the smirk that was on his face. You flicked him on the head, throwing the parchment into the fire before Sirius could ask what it was.

---

It took moon soaked leaves, untouched morning dew and a lightning storm to finally complete the transformations. It was on a late November night that a lightning storm finally struck and in the fifth corridor bathroom the Marauders made their first transformations. For Peter, a small rat with a wriggling tail. For Sirius, a pure black dog. For James, a large stag with mighty horns. For you, a sly fox with sleek orange fur.

Thus that night began the use of the nicknames: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs and Vixen. Dubbed by James and agreed upon all around. The final full moons of fifth year were spent prancing around Hogsmeade alongside Remus whose scars diminished with each transformation spent with his friends.

The downside of it all was the building tension in the school. With Lord Voldemort on the rise, more and more of your classmates were showing their true colors. Select Slytherins no longer wore short sleeves, their wrists always covered even in the heat of summer. Watchful eyes and protective glares, you went home for summer in worry.

Over the summer, Prongs lost his Pronginess. He wrote to Lily Evans most days of the week and now the things she sent him hung on his wall alongside you and the Marauders. An anticipated change but a scary one still. Every outing with James became more about Lily and less about anything else. You could feel your best friend slipping away and you told him so the night before the start of sixth year.

The two of you sat together in the branches of a tree. The sun hit your skin in rays and clouds passed by over your heads. James’s voice droned on about his darling Lily flower and with an unknowing malice you snapped at him. “Shut it!” you groaned.

His eyes looked over at you, hands holding your head in remorse. “Aren’t you happy for me? You’ve been acting off all summer.”

“I’ve been acting off because you’ve been acting off. I am happy for you but Evans is the only thing you talk about these days. What happened to talking about the Tornados or sneaking out together for milkshakes?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s different now.”

“Well, it shouldn’t be.” you exclaim. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t grow up. I support the idea of you no longer being a cheeky bastard. If you’re happy with Evans then I am happy for you. But being with Evans doesn’t mean you have to forget about me or the Marauders or everything else.”

James nodded, a leaf spinning between his fingers as he frowned. “I’m sorry, Y/N/N.”

You shake your head. “I am too. Sorry I snapped at you, my boy.” your head fell onto his shoulder the same way it had done for years only this time things had changed. The weight still felt perfect on his shoulder but now his stomach turned and his breath hitched at the close proximity. Things were indeed changing although the two of you only danced around it, not wanting to address the mess you two had made.

Your head was still against his shoulder as you spoke quietly. “Just remember you’re not a Quaffle.”

He chuckled, stroking your hair affectionately. “I guess I’ll be the snitch then.”

You smiled, swimming in the feel of the James Potter you knew so well. Later that night, the two of you snuck out like old times, sharing a chocolate milkshake and sending each other glances the whole way home.

---

Sixth year was a rollercoaster. The map was finished, all the efforts poured out finally receiving an equally impressive outcome with the parchment branded with the names of the Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs and Vixen. Remus had his first kiss and Sirius decided on leaving home and James welcomed him with open arms.

The other Marauders were not impartial to the changes in your and James’s behavior. The miniscule changes in his face when you napped on his lap or the flush of your skin when he rustled your hair. In all honesty, it was as though the two of you were finally waking up and seeing what they’d been seeing all along. However, your own defiance was strong and love wasn’t simple. James was still under the impression that his heart beat for Lily Evans and you flirted around your feelings as opposed to finally confronting them.

When Gryffindor won the Quidditch season, you were the first one in James’s arms to congratulate him. He spun you around, a large grin on his face. “We won!”

You smiled. “That you did, my boy. Celebration calls and are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

He tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Hmm? Let me guess… Firewhiskey?”

“That’s my boy.” you cheer, linking your arm in his and dragging him off the field as Lily Evans watched the boy she had taken a chance on run off with someone else.

---

Firewhiskey made for a fine celebration and resulted in James and you collapsed on the floor of the Gryffindor common room at two in the morning. His glasses were crooked as he stared up at the ceiling and your hair fell in waves on the floorboards.

“Blimey, I can’t believe we won.” James chuckled, his words slurring together slightly.

“You deserve it, my boy.” you say, lightly punching his arm. “How are you feeling on this fine evening?”

His cheeks went pink but a smile overtook his features making for a hilarious expression when he shouted out. “Randy!”

You doubled over with laughter. “Gosh, James. I don’t need to hear about this.” you shove his grinning face with your palm.

“What, you've never felt randy before?” he asked, a childlike expression on his face juxtaposing such an intrusive question.

You hide your embarrassment behind a grin. “Yes, but I’m not going around telling you about it.”

He tapped your nose with the tip of his finger and your stomach swirled. “And why not?”

You turned over to your side. “I’m not sure best friends tell each other about being randy, Prongs.”

James sighed. “I guess not. But how are you feeling, my little vixen?”

With a swig of your drink and a grin you reply. “Randy.”

The two of you erupt into fits of laughter. James pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I suppose it’s the whiskey then.”

You stare up at the ceiling. “Yeah, I suppose so.”

Both of you knew that wasn’t the case. You knew that despite the whiskey slowing the gears of your mind you still noticed James’s hand laying by your waist. You could still trace the outline of his chin and the bridge of his nose. James could still see the curve of your lips and the rise of your chest. Firewhiskey was most definitely not the cause of your randiness.

But it was the easiest thing to blame.

---

Your birthday came soon after with the Marauders celebrating in joy. Presents were exchanged with Remus giving you some books, Peter knitted (with the help of his mother) a pair of mittens for you and Sirius had gifted you a record to play on your stereo.

But James had to be extravagant. It wasn’t everyday his best friend turned seventeen and he marked the occasion with something expensive yet meaningful. When you opened the small box inside had been a silver fox ring. It’s eyes sparkling gems that twinkled as if blinking.

“James, I’m going to kill you.” you seethed. “This is way too expensive. I’m turning seventeen not fifty.”

He laughed. “Oi, woman! It’s fine. Nothing I couldn’t handle. Besides, only the best for you.”

You stared at it once more before engulfing him in a hug. “It’s beautiful, my boy. Thank you.”

His arms squeezed your waist, breathing you in and remembering the sweet smells of childhood and friendship rolled into one. His eyes closed and it was as if he had drifted off into a pleasant dream. “Of course, my little vixen.”

You made certain to flick his head after.

He was starting to regret giving it to you already.

---

Sixth year came to a close with an even more devastating end than the last. The war only continued to rage with Muggles being murdered miles away from the school, Muggle-borns driving into hiding. Sirius’s brother was slowly falling into line with the other Slytherins, devoting their hours to the torture of Muggleborns, Lord Voldemort and the likes.

James left Hogwarts heart-broken when Lily Evans broke up with him on the last day of term. “Look around!” Lily had told him. “You’re blind, James. I’m not the person you want and it’d be clear if you’d stop and take a look.”

He hadn’t known what she meant and the first week of summer was spent crying and eating ice cream on the sofa with you by his side. His room had become a mess and Lily’s letters no longer remained on the wall instead crumbled up in a ball in the trash.

Euphemia Potter couldn’t dread to see her son in the dumps any longer and she made sure to tell him so one evening after you had left.

“James, you need to get your life together, my love.” she whispered, rubbing her sons back reassuringly.

His words came out muffled into her neck. “It’s hard.”

“I know.” she soothed. “And I’m always going to be there for you.”

“Promise?” he asked.

“Promise.” she smiled. “Now how about you go clean your room. It’s become quite dirty.”

He nodded, trudging to his room with a broom. Lily’s words repeated in his mind as he entered. “You’re blind, James. Look around!” But there was nothing to look for. All he saw was his wall and a soft smile came to his face as he approached it. The Tutshill Tornado banners clung loosely to the paint and drawings of Kneazles and landscapes and trees. Pictures of the Marauders and Gryffindor lions.

And finally the ones of you.

His fingers ran across the picture in the middle. Four-year old James grinning and you licking a lolly. His eyes moved to the next one, seven years old and flying together on a broomstick. A grin broke out on his face as he saw the one with your owl in Diagon Alley, his fingers flicking your forehead. James’s mind was on hyperdrive as he examined each picture, one common factor in almost all of them.

You.

You were in many of the photos, a smile adorned on your face. If you weren’t in the photos you were the one taking them, knowing how much he adored them. Any pictures that hung were sketched by your hands. Here was James Potter’s open story, the story of his life all plastered to the wall as though it was an empty canvas. Present in every moment, every aspect, had been you. You had been the start of his book, the picture of the two of you as tots still smacked in the middle of the wall. Yes, he realized. You had started his book and had remained in it for quite some time.

Lily Evans must’ve noticed and maybe everyone else had too.

James had been blind to the message that was sprawled across his wall. He had been the one writing it, maybe not knowingly but writing it out all the same. Everyone had seen it except the writer and his subject, the message painstakingly clear years prior to its conception.

He quickly removed all the pictures from the wall, grabbing each one that hung and piling them up in his hand. The door swung open as he dashed out of his room yelling, “I’ve got to go, mum!” before running out the front door. The hills of green were illuminated by the night sky, the stars burned for James as he hopped over branches and boulders to get to you.

Your house was in the distance, your figure standing a few feet away from the home. He called out to you, your eyes turned to meet his. When he reached you, he paused, catching his breath.

“James, what on Earth are you doing here?” you laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder as he breathed.

He stood up straight, panting as he held up a photo. “This is us when we were four. The first photo we ever took together.”

You squinted at him. “Right?”

He shuffled through the pictures, fingers tracing each one. “And this is from when we were seven. That one from when we were ten. You gave me this drawing when we were six because you loved Kneazles and wanted one as a pet. That drawing was from the first year when we went skipping stones at the Black Lake and you sketched me and Peter.”

Your face melts slowly. “James, I don’t understand. You’ve had these for years.”

He exhaled, his eyes lighting up. “That’s the thing. I never saw it till now but Lily said I was blind and that she wasn’t the person I wanted.” You nod, wiping the sweat from his forehead with your sleeve and he grinned. “See that right there. That’s what I want.”

The night air bit at your spine. “You want me to wipe the sweat from your forehead?”

He shook his head with a soft chuckle. “Not exactly. I want you to wipe the sweat from my forehead for the next year and the next ten and then the next fifty. You’ve been doing it for years already and the thing is… I don’t think I want anyone else doing it for me.”

You blinked as he came closer, his palms cradling your cheek as you gazed into his eyes. “You’ve been in my life for as long as I could remember and I want you to stay in it for as long as I live. You told me once to not throw around the l-word and I said…”

“But I’ve known you my whole life.” you mutter.

“I think I’ve loved you for a while. I just didn’t know it yet.”

You shook your head as the wind rustled the branches, the windchime on your porch creating soft melodies. A large grin spread across your lips yet you continued to shake your head. “There’s a war, James.”

He smiled. “Only more the reason to be with me.”

“But I’ve been with you my whole life.” you tease.

“Oh, shut up!” he chuckles, before leaning down to capture your lips. At that moment everything made sense. All the pieces of the puzzle sifted into place and the stars applauded you from the sky and the night gale created a ruckus at your shed blindfold.

“Be my Snitch?” he asked.

You rolled your eyes, “That’s the cringiest thing you’ve ever said, my boy.”

He smirked. “Oh, but you love it.”

“Perhaps I do.” you replied, flicking his forehead for good measure.

---

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even-after-a-millennia · 3 years ago

Text

Falling into a New Life

For @nilefreemanweek2021 and the alternative prompt Canon Divergent AU! Andy doesn’t get to the base in time, and Nile is on the plane to Germany and tests. When she dreams Andy calling Booker, what happens when Nile calls the same number? You can read it below or over on my ao3 account here. Gen | Rated T | ~2.1k

“Corporal Freeman,” the soldier’s voice cut through her music and brief moment of peace. “Been looking for you. Wheels up on your ride.”

“Yes, sir,” she said.

She felt a tightening in her gut, one that got worse as she flew away from base towards Germany. Towards more tests. Something was rubbing her the wrong way about all of this.

She hadn’t slept well since waking up in that hospital bed, so despite her nerves, she began to doze as the hours ticked by.

“She’s just a baby,” she heard a woman say, looking down at a sketch of Nile’s own face.

“Damn it!” A fist crashing into the side of a Humvee as a plane, the plane Nile was on right now, took off into the sky.

Numbers were being punched into the phone, then dialing. “Book, I didn’t get here in time. Word is she is being sent for more testing and you know what they will find. You have to cut them off. Get to her before they find out.”

The man closed his flip phone, turning to the other two men on the train.

“We need to get to Germany,” he said.

The plane rattled side to side and Nile woke, looking around frantically.

What was that? A dream? A vision?

She scrambled through her pockets, grabbing her notepad and writing down the numbers before she could forget them. Pulling out her phone, she looked furtively around the vast open area, but aside from her, the only other people on the plane were the two soldiers who had escorted her to the plane, sitting near the cockpit, and the pilots.

If she called this number and someone picked up, she would know she wasn’t crazy. And if no one did… then maybe it was a good thing that she was being carted off for testing.

Nile hit dial before she could stop herself.

It rang twice before a slightly accented voice answered, “Hello? Who is this?”

“What the fuck…” she whispered, pulling the phone away to stare at it. The call had connected, the seconds ticking by. She pressed it back against her ear, shaking her head slowly.

“Is this the Marine?” the man continued.

“Yeah,” she answered, her voice rough.

There was a rustle, then a different voice was speaking, “Can you tell us your name?”

A voice in the back of her mind was yelling about strangers and danger, but she didn’t think that the talks adults gave her as a child ever could have anticipated this.

“Nile,” she forced herself to say. “Corporal Nile Freeman. Who are you?”

“We’re like you, Nile,” a heavier accented voice said. “We want to help you, but first, you have to help yourself. You cannot get tested by those men. It will lead to something much worse.”

“I don’t understand,” she murmured, keeping her voice low to avoid the other soldiers hearing.

“You have to get off that plane, Nile,” the second voice said. “We will come and find you, we swear.”

“That’s insane,” she hissed.

“Welcome to the world of coming back from the dead,” the first voice said sardonically.

Holy shit.

That’s what had happened, wasn’t it? She had felt herself die. Dizzy had seen it. Everyone thought she was gone. They had even taken her dog tags to send to her family.

But then she had come back.

“Shit,” she whispered.

She looked around the plane and spotted the jump door and parachutes.

“No, this isn’t happening. This is some bullshit. Is this hazing or something? Is this fun for you?” Nile demanded.

“Nile, please,” the heavily accented voice said. There was so much emotion in his tone she stopped. “Please, you are not safe. I know you are scared and alone. But they will do horrible things if they discover you can regenerate. A jump off a plane is much better than an eternity in a cage.”

“I can’t go AWOL,” Nile said. “My family- I can’t do that to them.”

“Corporal Freeman!” One of the men who had brought her to the plane said, approaching. “I need to take your phone.”

She lowered it without hanging up, alarms ringing in her head. “What, why?”

“Protocol for testing. Could interfere with the machines.”

And he could be telling the truth, but the voices on the other end of the phone were getting desperate even though she couldn’t make out what they were saying.

“Are we that close?” she asked, buying time.

He shrugged. “Somewhere over Ukraine.”

“I’d like to give it to you closer to Germany, sir,” she said, trying to toe the line of defiance and deference.

“Orders are orders,” he said, reaching for it and this didn’t feel right, something was so wrong about this whole thing.

“NILE!” the voices on the phone shouted all at once, loud enough it reached her ear.

She ducked his grab and undid her seatbelt, sliding away from him.

He looked at her, considering. “C’mon, kid. Don’t make me break out the restraints.”

She stared at him. “What the fuck?!” she finally said, putting her phone in her back pocket. “Nah, nope. Come and get it.”

He swung at her and she ducked it and hit him in the ribs. He let out a grunt and bent over. She grabbed the back of his head and slammed his face into her knee, hearing a crack as he groaned in pain. He stayed down, clutching his nose.

“Hey!” The other guard had gotten up from his seat at the struggle and she turned to face him, trying to keep one eye on the other man.

The man took out his gun and pointed it at her. “You are under arrest for assaulting a superior officer.”

She raised her hands slowly. “In fairness, he started it,” she felt compelled to say.

He didn’t think she was funny.

“Stay still,” he said, taking a pair of cuffs out of his tac belt.

Nile looked at them apprehensively, because those were not standard to have for soldiers in her division, and so why the hell did he have them?!

She stood still, weighing her options. He holstered his gun, holding the cuffs in his other hand. She watched him until he was close enough to strike. She knocked the cuffs out of his hand and they flew down the plane. He tried to punch her but she parried it and went to dislocate his shoulder, but he kicked out and caught her in the knee. There was a crack and a searing pain, and she cried out, but kept fighting.

He drew his gun again and they grappled over it. She knew that she was losing the battle with one leg out of the game and pain fogging her mind.

His finger reached the trigger.

She felt the bullet go through her side and her whole body went momentarily numb as it was overloaded with pain. Nile fell to the ground, clutching her side.

The guard holstered his weapon and went to check on his buddy and get the cuffs. Nile breathed through the pain and then paused.

Something was going on with her leg.

She looked down as much as she could without using her stomach muscles that were still screaming and watched as her knee popped back into place, no longer inverted.

Her side started to hurt less, and she lifted her shirt to see the skin that the bullet had torn through slowly knit back together.

Regenerate. That’s what the man on the phone had called it.

Shit.

She pulled out her phone and spoke over the voices on the other side, “I’m jumping. We’re somewhere over Ukraine. I have your number.”

Then she hung up and put her phone in her zippered pocket, got up and ran at the parachutes and hit the button that opened the jump door.

“Corporal! Don’t do it!”

She looked back as she shouldered the parachute and clamped it into place. The soldiers were reaching out to her, trying to get to her in time.

Nile jumped.

She fell, waiting until she was well away from the plane to pull the pin to activate the parachute.

Nothing happened.

“Shit!” she said, trying to pull the backup, but it didn’t budge.

Had they purposefully put dud parachutes in the plane? Was this some kind of test? Or had this been a terrible coincidence?

She kept falling, spreading her arms and legs to slow her descent as much as possible. She forced herself to look down, scope out the area below her. There was a lake in the middle of a field, and she angled herself towards it, gritting her teeth. Neither option was good, but with no trees in sight to cushion her fall, she would splat either way. At least the water would eventually mask her blood.

Nile really hoped that she could actually come back from the dead, cause it didn’t look like she was going to survive this.

The water got closer and she forced her feet below her so at least she wouldn’t meet it head first. She tucked her arms close to her sides and felt herself shoot downwards faster than before.

She concluded, just before she hit the water, that any fall where she could think about how long she had been falling was too damn long.

Then everything was black.

The three men hopped off the train.

“She’s off the plane, haven’t heard anything since,” the blond said over the phone. “Said she was somewhere over Ukraine.”

The woman sighed on the other end. “Fine. We’ll meet in the middle and find her. Deal?”

“See you soon, boss,” the man said, hanging up.

“At least we will be able to keep Copley off our tail,” the man with a head of curls said.

“We will still need to go after him eventually,” the blond said. “He knows about us.”

“Nile first,” the man with the heavy accent and kind eyes said.

Nile gasped awake and immediately coughed up water. She was floating on top of the lake now, the waters around her red. She groaned as her body slowly knitted itself back together again, bones and organs recovering from hitting water so fast it felt like concrete.

“Ow,” she concluded once the last shift was done.

She turned her head, looking for the closest bit of shore, and starting off towards it.

It took a lot of effort to drag her waterlogged body onto the sand. She lay on her back, staring up at the sky for a moment.

Then she reached for her phone, only to find it cracked and even more waterlogged than she was.

“Shit!”

She pocketed it anyway, because she might still be able to recover the memory chip, even if the rest of it was worthless now.

Okay. Priorities.

Nile was still wearing her uniform, as wet and bloodstained as it was. She shucked off the long sleeve shirt of her uniform and surveyed the damage to the short sleeve brown shirt beneath. The cold water of the lake had washed away much of the blood that had been saturated in it, but she took it off and scrubbed a bit more, just to get as much as she could out.

There was still a hole where she had been shot, but she would deal with that if it came to it.

She found a large rock and tied her shirt around it.

Then paused. Rested her head against the rock and the uniform she was about to toss away.

She had been a Marine, like her dad before her. It hadn’t been an easy decision to join, not with how it had ended for her dad, the imperialism that was steeped into the US military, or the fact that she was a black woman and that would affect her entire experience. But it had been her life, her brothers and sisters in arms had been her family, and she felt like once she heaved this rock into the water, she would be irreversibly throwing that part of her life away too.

She breathed. Then she lifted the rock and with a grunt, sent it flying through the air. There was a large splash and it sank, taking her uniform with it.

Nile watched it go, her throat burning with emotions she couldn’t even name.

Then she turned to find the others who could regenerate like her.

#nile freeman #nileweek2021 #the old guard #canon divergent au #fanfic #my fic

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lifeofkaze · 4 years ago

Note

Hi love!

Sorry for bothering you, but could you do something like really cute and fluffy between Charlie Weasley and reader where he's all shy and delicate maybe teaching her about dragons and their characteristics pls? Like, something that feels really intimate, you know?

I absolutely love your writing and I believe that you could make justice to the character.

Take care darling,

-A

Thank you for the request, loveliest anon! This is actually the first fic request I’ve ever gotten and I’m so happy you like my stuff so much, this makes me very very soft.

This fluff piece was just what I needed to get my mojo back hopefully. Please let me know if this is like what you had in mind - I for one had a lot of fun with it! <3

***

Favourites

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Word Count: ~ 2.800

As a Care of Magical Creatures test covering dragons of all things is imminent and you were too distracted in class to pay proper attention, you know just who to turn to for help.

“You want me to do what?”

Charlie Weasley blinked at you in confusion. He could feel his blood rushing in his ears as he looked at you standing in front of him, clutching you Care for Magical Creatures book to your chest as you raised your eyebrows at him.

“I asked if you could help me studying for the test next week?” you repeated your question, brow slightly furrowed. “I can’t keep track of all these dragon traits and who would know them better than you?”

Charlie felt the heat creeping up on his face. Of course, the test. It was all he had been able to think about ever since Professor Kettleburn had announced the topic; all except you of course.

He tried to formulate a coherent answer that wouldn’t make him look like a blabbering fool in front of you, but the way the dappled sunlight that broke through the trees reflected in your hair distracted him more than he cared to admit.

So he resorted to a weak nod. “Uhm, sure, I’d love to. See you at six in the library?” he managed to stammer out eventually.

A beautiful smile formed on your face as you nodded in enthusiasm. “Sounds great, see you there!”

Charlie watched as you swished around and walked back to your friends, who greeted you with giggles and whispers as they glanced in his direction. You gave one of them a playful swat on the arm, before your clear laugh carried over to him onto the warm summer air and made his heart clench.

He knew all of his dragons by heart, of course he did; this test was the first he hadn’t bothered studying for at all. But now, he suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to prepare himself.

The light of the sun had already started to turn into the beautiful golden shade that heralded the end of a warm autumn day as you skittered into the library. You were a little bit late for your study session with Charlie, and the exertion from running all the way from your Common Room flushed your cheeks slightly red. Your friends just hadn’t let you go, all of them just as excited for what they called ‘your dragon date’ as you were. Not that you’d ever tell them that.

You found Charlie sitting at a table near the windows and your breath caught for a moment as you took in the warm light that washed around his frame; it was making his ginger hair glow like fire, the only vibrant speck of colour in this dusty old room full of books.

He had his nose buried in a big, leather-bound tome, his eyes darting over the pages frantically; you noticed how the tip of his tongue stuck out between his lips in concentration. He was so immersed in his reading, that he only noticed you approaching as you sat down next to him. Jumping in shock at your sudden appearance, he almost knocked over his ink bottle, only catching it at the last second before its dark, inky content could wash over the thin pages of his book.

“Oh, you’re here already, I didn’t even notice you until now.” His freckled face had flushed a shade darker than usual as he put his ink bottle back into its position and made room for you on the table.

“I’d rather say I’m here finally,” you responded, feeling a little bit guilty at making Charlie wait. “But I see that you started without me.”

He hurriedly closed the book. “No, I was just reading up on some facts about Welsh Greens so I have them sharp in my mind,” he explained, “in case you have questions, you know?”

It was only now that your eyes took in the numerous heaps of books piled up on your table. “First question,” you said as you ran your fingers over the backs of the tomes stacked on top of each other. “I thought the test was about dragons native to Europe and not every single one in existence,” you pulled out a particularly old looking book containing myths and fables, “and beyond.”

You silently counted the numbers of books Charlie had amassed and your eyes went wide. “Charlie, these must be all the books about dragons in the whole library,” you laughed, giggling at the flustered expression of the boy beside you.

“Well, not all the books,” he clarified sheepishly. “There are quite a few in the Restricted Section and then there’s the two I have up in my dorm but forgot to bring and- “

You cut off his rambling by gently touching his arm; he shut up almost instantly, glancing nervously down to where your hand was lying. “It’s alright, it was just a joke.”

“Of course,” Charlie muttered slightly embarrassed. What was wrong with him?

He watched as you pulled your notes from your bag; they were rather sparse compared to the almost three scrolls of parchment he had scribbled down himself.

“Where do you want to start?”

You hummed to yourself as you considered your choices. A warm, fuzzy feeling spread inside Charlie’s chest as you drew your lips into a pensive pout and tapped your index finger against it.

Finally, a neat stack of white flashcards, that lay hidden behind a book on Sea Serpents, caught your attention. You reached over Charlie and pulled them towards you.

Your mouth dropped open as you flicked through them; on every one of the laminated cards was an extensive profile of every kind of dragon imaginable. The descriptions were written out in a neat, accurate hand that looked nothing like the careless scrawl you’d seen on Charlie’s class notes.

But what took your breath away were the detailed drawings below the text. They were done by pencil and although they didn’t move like magical pictures often did, they were so lively as if they only waited to pounce off the paper and take into the air.

Charlie watched you apprehensively as your fingers traced the outline of what appeared to be a Swedish Short-snout. He felt his heart beat faster at the soft, admiring look in your eyes as you turned towards him.

“Did you do these yourself?”

He nodded in response. “It’s hard to find decent descriptions all in one place,” he explained quietly. “I don’t know how accurate the sketches are though; I’ve never seen a dragon in real life.”

You flashed him a radiant smile that had his heart rate pick up considerably. “I don’t care if they’re realistic; they’re brilliant!”

Encouraged by your excitement, he took the flashcards out of your hands and fanned them out, their blank backs facing you. “Then I’d suggest we start with them; pick one!”

Running the fingers along the cards twice, you finally settled on one and drew it out of his grasp. Charlie’s freckled face lit up as he saw which one you had chosen.

“The Ukrainian Ironbelly,” he exclaimed, “my favourite!”

All of his former shyness was suddenly forgotten; this was his prime discipline.

“The Ironbelly is native to the Ukraine, as its name suggests, obviously. It’s considered the largest dragon species in existence with an immense wingspan, long talons and scales that are said to be harder to pierce than steel. It’s name stems from the metallic grey colour of his underside and ever since one particular large specimen carried off a whole sailing ship in the late 18th century, they are under strict observation by wizarding authorities.”

You did your best to jot down the information Charlie dumped on you with impressive speed but there was no way you could keep up with his excited ramblings. So you resorted to listening to him as he lectured you about feeding habits, hunting methods and the average temperature of the flames an Ironbelly could produce.

He sighed wistfully as he paused for breath. “They’re amazing.”

You couldn’t hide your smile at his dreamy expression as you picked out your next card from the stack. “Okay, how about this one?”

The dragon it showed had ridges running along its back, ending in a nasty, arrow-shaped spike at the tip of its tail. It barred its teeth at you in a vicious snarl.

“That’s my favourite, the Hebridean Black,” he repeated his words from before, positively bouncing with energy this time around.

You glanced at the card you two had just worked your way through. “I thought the Ukrainian Ironbelly was your favourite?” you teased him.

Charlie’s bouncing stopped instantly as he blushed bright red; you hadn’t meant to bring him down and felt sorry all of a sudden. So you propped the card against one of the book piles and turned to him.

“So, tell me more about it.”

Relieved to be able to tread on secure ground again, Charlie immediately recounted all the facts about one of the two dragon breeds native to the British Isles to you.

You continued in this fashion; your pulled a random card from the stash and Charlie would tell you everything he knew about it. He grew more animated with every new flashcard; as it turned out, every dragon you talked about was his favourite.

Seeing him so caught up in his favourite subject had a warmth spread in your chest and the smile on your lips never vanished even once. You had given up on writing Charlie’s words down about four cards ago and were merely staring at him explaining to you everything about these fantastic beasts that made up all of his dreams and musings.

His excitement quickly spread to you and you found yourself hanging onto his every word. But the more you were listening to him, the more you found your concentration shift from the dragons you were discussing to the boy beside you.

Your head propped on your hand, you admired how recounting scale colours and preferred environments of Romanian Longhorns brought a twinkle to his blue eyes and how his contagious laugh had you chuckle at the idea that people would confuse a Hungarian Horntail with a Norwegian Ridgeback.

The dimples forming in his freckled cheeks as he smiled at you were the exact reason why you had needed help with studying for this test in the first place. When you had talked about dragons in class, the eager smile and the slight scrunch of his nose as he scribbled down every single word Professor Kettleburn had to spare had left you breathless and unable to concentrate on anything but the butterflies dancing in your stomach.

The pile of flash cards had dwindled down until only a few more were left. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned around your next pick; the pictured showed a slender dragon directly from the front. It’s wings were outstretched and it seemed to be staring directly at you out of wide, pupil-less eyes. It was the only drawing so far that was coloured.

Your finger traced the subtle colour gradient rippling over its pearly scales as Charlie looked over to see which one was next.

“The Antipodean Opaleye,” he murmured, taking in your fascinated expression, “it’s singularly coloured scales and eyes are the stuff of legends.”

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, trying to imagine how the scales of a real life Opaleye might shimmer in the sunlight.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Charlie suddenly blurted out. The words had fallen from his lips before he’d even had a chance to stop them.

Both of you froze as what he had said sank into your consciousness. You couldn’t believe your ears and were half sure that your mind must have played a trick on you.

You carefully glanced over to Charlie out of the side of your eyes; he looked incredulous and you could watch the colour of his face turning from ghostly white to a deep, vivid scarlet that clashed with his ginger hair in a matter of seconds.

Feeling your own cheeks starting to blush at the unexpected compliment, you desperately were looking for something to say to take the shock out of his widened eyes. But your mind wasn’t working properly anymore, so all you managed was a meek “Wow, uhm, thank you Charlie, that’s really sweet.”

It was apparent your words didn’t help his flustered situation as he covered his face with his hands and groaned “I can’t believe I said that out loud; I’m such an idiot.”

You didn’t know what to do to help him; you felt utterly flattered and confused at the same time. You thought about putting your hand on his arm to reassure him what he had said actually made you happy, but paused halfway, not quite daring to touch him again.

Still unsure of what to do, you got up and picked up one of the books he had used to illustrate the facts on his flashcards.

“I’d better get going, I guess,” you stammered without looking at the wretched boy sitting at the table next to you, “thank you so much for helping me, I think I’ll manage the rest on my own. Can I borrow that book though?”

He didn’t raise his face from his hands, but nodded anyways. You felt bad for leaving him like that, but your head was spinning and you desperately needed to sort out your thoughts.

But seeing Charlie’s slumped frame sitting at the table, all the bubbly excitement from before completely drained from him, tugged at your heartstrings so hard it almost hurt. So instead of turning around and leaving, you drew a deep breath, gathered your courage and stepped behind him, placing a light kiss on his cheek.

You could feel his shoulders tense and his breath hitch as your hair tickled his jaw and were glad he couldn’t see the deep blush on your cheeks as you straightened up, picked up your bag and his book and hurried out of the library with a racing heart, too afraid to turn around once more.

Charlie and you hadn’t spoken again after what had happened in the library. It had taken him quite some time to be able to think properly again after you had left; he had just sat at his table, hand on his cheek where you had kissed him, staring into nothingness, the peachy smell of your hair still hanging in the air.

Even though the thought of how soft your lips had felt on your cheek had been the most prominent thing in his mind, he had passed his test with flying colours; some things just couldn’t be erased from his mind, no matter what was happening around him.

He had just returned to his dorm after a particularly tiring Quidditch practise when he saw it lying on his bed, propped up against his head bord; the book you had borrowed from him to finish studying on your own.

For a brief moment, he wondered how you had managed to get it up here, when he noticed something white sticking out of the pages. Curious, he picked up the book and flicked it open.

Even without looking, he knew what chapter it was you had marked with whatever you had put in there; he had read this book more times than he could remember. It was the chapter on the Antipodean Opaleye; he grimaced at the memory of when he had last thought about this particular dragon.

A white flashcard was stuck between the pages, its laminated surface flashing as Charlie turned it around to read it.

A big smile stole onto his face as he saw the photograph of you laughing and waving at him that you had stuck on the front side. His eyes swept over the lines written in your feminine hand and his smile grew even wider as he read the ‘special characteristics’ section:

It has to be remarked, that this particular specimen was able to pass her test with full marks.

He was glad to hear his blurted out compliment hadn’t affected your marks in the end. He sighed wistfully, when he noticed the very small, scribbled note at the very end of the card; it wasn’t as neatly written as the rest, almost as if your hands had shaken while writing it down.

Greatest weakness: While not many weaknesses are recorded of this specimen, it is said that it can be easily tamed by ginger-haired dragon trainers in the making. Whether these rumours are true, remains to be determined.

Charlie’s mouth dropped open as he read the last section over and over again, not daring to believe what he thought they said. But after the tenth time, he finally allowed the butterflies that had been fluttering in his stomach to spread into the rest of his body, his smile growing into the widest grin as he tucked the flashcard carefully into the book again.

This time, he was sure; this one was his favourite.

Tagging: @weasleysandwheezes

#harry potter #hphm #hogwarts mystery #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x reader #L writes #by request

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