#it is slightly more technical than I’d hoped but we’ll see what happens
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cahootings · 8 months ago
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OKAY I DID THAT ITS BEHIND ME
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lycanlovingvampyre · 2 years ago
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MAG 160 Relisten
Activity on my first listen: head empty, only eyepocalypse...
Yeah, The Eye Opens doesn't sound so good... Neither does the ominous slightly different version of the Institute’s motto...
MARTIN: "I still don’t think we should have brought it." JON: "Oh, it’s better than no warning at all." Hmmm, I think one would have just turned up. Like on the ship to Norway.
JON: "Yeah, well, it technically still belongs to Daisy, so – (small exhale) I’m just glad it’s not some sort of kill room." MARTIN: "Or – (pause for a huffed laugh) Or it is, and she just cleaned it up really well." JON: (small exhale) "Yes." MARTIN: "Are we? – Are we… safe here?" JON: (sigh) "Safe as anywhere. If Elias wanted to find us, I imagine he could, but – I doubt the police will be able to. If nothing else, I’m hoping there’d be some – jurisdiction complications, in Scotland?" I always love how there just happens to be a conversation that tells us where they are (or what object this is about etc.)
MARTIN: "And if she does?" JON: (exhale) "Well. At least we’ll know where she is." And here's the information that we lost Daisy :( Gone full Hunt.
JON: (teasing) "Anyways, don’t tell me the phonebox down there doesn’t appeal to your retro aesthetic." MARTIN: "It – might. Maybe." Ahhhh, the teasing!!!
MARTIN: "You’ll be okay here?" JON: "I’ll be fine." It's so soft...
MARTIN: "I mean, they’ve finished all the interviews? Apparently they’re calling it a 'terror attack.'" From what Basira said in MAG 158 ("From what I saw they’ve been toying with the rest of the Institute, but it won’t be long until they’re all dead or escaped.") I'd call that a proper killing spree.
MARTIN: "And she wasn’t sure which ones you’ve read already, so she, she just said she’d send a bunch." JON: ""There – There are tapes in here, as well. D-Did she say anything about tapes?" MARTIN: "She didn’t mention it? – But I didn’t check it until after the call." Do you know how long it took me to realize these are not the statements Basira sent xD I thought Elias smuggled his statement to the obvious stack of statements in the Archives and Basira grabbed it with the others and sent that... Yeah, it does make a lot more sense for Elias to simply watch Basira and then express-mail his own welcome-back package.
MARTIN: "– I will give you some privacy. Go for a walk." JON: (exhale) "Let me know if you see any good cows." MARTIN: "Obviously I’m going to tell you if I see any good cows." Famous last words... Love how it sounds there has been something going on with them defining "good cows". Already told this little story in the tags of one of the MAG 160 art reblogs: last year my spouse said they're going for a walk and I know there's a route past a field of highland cattle. So I asked them where they're going and it was this exact route! Of course I asked them to tell me if they see any good cows xD The world didn't end and I got a photo of highland cows!
Overall impression of these two scenes: Their conversations are so normal... They really are okay here. At least, how far we can tell from what little we have. I'm sure I already said this in one of my relisten posts, I think it's really good for the fandom to have so little. Yeah, of course I would have loved more fluff, but by keeping this so short, there's sooo much we fans can imagine happening here. TMA has a lot of this, referencing vaguely what happened, but keeping it open for us to explore that. This is actually also very good for the horrors in the show. It’s a genre I respond very well to. Keeping it vague, let my mind do the rest. Fucking love this shit.
JON: "Right. Statement of Hazel Rutter regarding a fire in her childhood home. Original statement given August 9th, 1992." OMG, I remember exactly, what my reaction to this was. I was like "What bullshit statement for a season finale is that supposed to be???"
JON: "Hello, Jon. Apologies for the deception, but I wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself." And then I was "Oh SHIT!" Also, I always forget it's Jon reading this statement because Jonny's impression of Ben's Elias is sooo good! So this is Jonny pretending to be Ben pretending to be Elias by copying Jonny pretending to be Jon, all while still pretending to be Jon... I hope that makes sense... Also I used this sentence one time for a friend! She doesn't really like horror because she's easily scared, but she did listen to all of TMA for me. And I had a very cool and really creepy nightmare which just happened to include one of my cats and I wanted to tell her what happened in this nightmare. But it was also almost midnight and I knew she just wouldn't read my text if she immediately had recognized it as a nightmare. So I started to retell it by focusing on my cat only to hit her with the creepy stuff in the last sentence. She texted me "I hate u" back xD and a week later we talked about this via Twitch chat during a stream of our friend’s and she was like "I thought it was a cute cat dream!" and I answered "Yeah, I knew you would stop reading if it would have been too obvious... Hello *friend's name*. Apologies for the deception but I wanted to make sure you started reading..." We both laughed so much xD
So uh, I already made a post about this once, but I'm putting that thought in here again. The case numbers of the statements are always in the episode descriptions (here 0181810 - a palindrome!!! - 18th October 2018). These case numbers always refer to the date the statement was first given, either written or recorded directly. This is a written statement, so teeeeeechnically 18th October was the day Jonah wrote this statement, and not the day Jon read it. I do think this one episode is an exception of this rule, but hear me out for a moment: If 18th October was only the day Jonah wrote this, this could mean for Jmart to have more time for their Scottish honeymoon!!!
"but that you would quite willingly doom that world and confine the billions in it to an eternity of terror and suffering, all to ensure your own happiness" Capitalism is the real enemy!
"I once asked her what drove her, what had started her down that path. She told me the Desolation had killed her cat." Understandable, have a nice day! (Gertrude is John Wick...)
"You see, the thing about the Fears is that they can never be truly separated from each other. When does the fear of sudden violence transition into the fear of hunted prey? When does the mask of the Stranger become the deception of the Spiral?" Yeeees, like colors! They're all part of the same light! I love how everything that seemed like a plot hole in TMA actually has an explanation!
"It does tickle me, that in this world of would-be occult dynasties and ageless monsters, the Chosen One is simply that – someone I chose. It’s not in your blood, or your soul, or your destiny. It’s just in your own, rotten luck." And in the next few sentences he'll say "Oh wow, that one is marked by the Spider! Must be their blessing to send me someone already with that destiny!"...
"How is Martin, by the way? He looks well. You will keep an eye on him when all this is over, won’t you? He’s earned that." Jonah!Elias ships them XD
"And there, I think, we are brought just about up to date." I have listened to the episode starting this sentence soooo many times!
Ahhh, the soundscaping during the incantation is so good!
JON: (still distorted, with shaking laughter/tears) "Look at the sky, Martin. Look at the sky. It’s looking back." [AND NOW HE DOES BEGIN TO LAUGH IN EARNEST. IT’S NOT A LAUGH WE’VE HEARD ON HIM BEFORE; NOT A SHORT, CLIPPED LAUGH; NOT A SURPRISE BURST OF GENUINE HILARITY. THIS LAUGH SEEMS AFRAID, AND YET COLD. IT’S REMINISCENT OF ELIAS’S VILLAINOUS LAUGH, BUT IS TINGED MORE WITH FEAR THAN SATISFACTION.] [HE DOES NOT STOP LAUGHING.] That was it. I thought now he lost it. Completely. I was asking myself if he could pull it together next season, or if he'll be full crazy monster. And I totally felt that shock of “Oh no, this really happened. Everything is ruined. How can this progress? How can this every be undone??” I really, reaaally felt Jon and Martin’s (mostly Martin’s perhaps) emotions there at the end...
A few random thoughts at the end here, while I don't remember my surroundings listening to this episode. I remember being in the bedroom at the end of this episode. Like specifically that thought of Jon "going crazy".
I think it's funny how MAG 160 fanart is either super sweet Jmart or total devastation of the world ending. And memes. Lot’s of memes.
Fun fact: My father in law finished S4 today as well!!! He never struck me to be a person who'd be doing a relisten, which I found a bit sad because there is so much to discover in a relisten. BUT he said he's thinking about doing a relisten right now already xD This episode is always my most anticipated one when wanting friends and family live-blog their experience to me xD
@a-mag-a-day
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saviolum-sanguineus · 2 years ago
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I wish it was two weeks ago... She wants to say it, wants it more than anything she's ever wanted in this shining mayfly brightness of youth.
sometimes memories aren't enough. sometimes they're too much.
“When do you need to be home by?”
"What?"
The party around them is too loud and Joel doesn't want to yell, so he leans in and cups a hand around his mouth—Esme's hair smells like roses and the cherry lipgloss it swiped from her mouth when she was dancing earlier—to repeat, "When do you need to be home by?"
Someone bumps into her as they pass, jostling her forward into Joel's automatically protective surprise; his chest is warm and muffles her muttered "ow" when her nose smacks into him. Esme looks up, eyes watering slightly (or maybe it's just the lights through whatever the people in the room down the hall are smoking), and tips her head towards the relative quiet of the backyard. Joel nods and she smiles when she tugs him by the hand into the cool open air.
“Technically eleven, but they know I'm with you. I don’t know what they think would happen anyway, Aplesnay is tiny, I couldn’t get into trouble if I went looking for it.” Esme isn't drunk, but being around Joel makes her feel like she is, dizzy and floating on the feeling of his hand in hers, smile buoyant on her lips like the little boats they make out of leaves and send downstream together in the woods.
Joel looks a little sceptical but grins back when she swings their intertwined hands back and forth to the music they can still hear thumping outside the house. "It's almost ten, and I'm pretty sure your parents don't like me that much."
Esme pulls a frowny kind of face that melts rapidly into a teasing smile as she leans into Joel. “They like you, they just don't like that I dyed my hair after we got together—and anyway, I like you very, very much, so all that means is that we’ll have to leave now.”
Joel looks bewildered. “Now? You don’t live an hour away.”
“Yeah, but you took the motorcycle here, Jojo. You think I’d miss a chance to make the most of a ride with Ryder?”
It’s a stupid joke, but Joel laughs anyway and it leaves Esme giddy, smiling adoringly at him when he pushes the visor of her helmet securely in place. The choke purrs loud as her heart as they ride off, black night breeze whipping past the column of light carved out by Joel’s headlight. He’s always warning her to hold on tight—a little needlessly, but it’s those little things that keep Esme’s arms wrapped so tight around him, body pressed to his so closely that the contour of where they touch is a kiss. It feels like flying.
Two minutes before eleven, Joel cuts the engine at the end of her block and walks Esme to the door, looking shyer with every step towards the geraniums on either side of it. She squeezes his hand and rises up on her tiptoes for a parting kiss: chaste, sweet, and comforting (even if she lingers a little).
“Goodnight,” Esme whispers just before the front door opens to reveal Yvette and Tobin behind her. "See you tomorrow?" Esme asks, eyes hopeful where her voice is cautiously casual.
“'Course,” Joel answers, smile as tender as the hand that gently pushes Esme’s hair behind her ear from where the helmet had squashed it awkwardly.
"Kay," Esme beams; Yvette clears her throat and Esme flushes a little before turning to go inside—she pauses to call over her shoulder, "Say hi to Mittens for me!" before disappearing into the house.
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They go to the beach one summer day to soak up the sun and each other. The water is barely cold enough to justify Esme's excuse for insisting that she needs to snuggle up to Joel on the shore after they're done splashing about, but neither of them poke the façade. Sunset glitters on the water in a riot of gold and flushed sky. Esme drags her finger through the wet sand beside them, drawing out a heart big enough to fit both their hands in. Joel watches, smiling at the concentration on Esme's face, though there's a strange glimmer of nervousness in his eyes.
"Put your hand here," Esme instructs, tugging Joel's wrist so he presses his palm flat to one of the spaces inside. She lays her hand in the other, stroking the tip of her thumb over Joel's knuckles before she pushes her hand down into the empty half of the heart. "Heart handholding. Hearting."
Joel smiles and lifts his hand, shakes the sand off, and cups Esme's face, thumb brushing over the freckles that are starting to show under summer sun. They're barely visible, hidden little treasures he's found by virtue of knowing how to look tenderly enough to be let close. He traces a little heart over her cheek, connecting the faint freckles into an invisible constellation. "Heart headholding. Hearting."
The constellation crinkles up into a new spread of stars as Esme laughs. Joel's hand is still warm where it brackets her face, but he doesn't tip her head up to meet him—she does that herself, smiling as he lowers his head to kiss her softly, slow enough that it feels like she's melting like the shore under rolling waves.
When she opens her eyes, Joel is holding a little velvet-flocked box. The hope in his face is the colour of home and the way his eyes turn into dark honey under sunlight—the promise ring is gold with a dark red stone cut into the shape of a heart, and its slim band fits around her finger as neatly as her arms wrap around him.
"It's beautiful," Esme says, holding her hand up so the heart sparkles in the dying sun. Aplesnay is tiny and she already knows that she doesn't have enough fingers or toes to count the days Joel must have saved up for this. "I love it, Jojo." I love you.
She wants to say it, wants it more than anything she's ever wanted in this shining mayfly brightness of youth: the words taste so sweet shimmering on her tongue, but there's a clench of fear that keeps her voice down. She's not good enough for herself, nowhere near the perfect girls in the magazines or on TV, never sweet or smart or anything enough, not when you look close—how can she ever be enough for someone as perfect as Joel? She's just gotten unthinkably lucky so far—and Esme learned early not to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Instead, she looks at Joel and hopes that he knows what's behind the giggle she can't stop from escaping her lips before she rolls onto him, holding his face between her hands and peppering kisses over his face like she can leave him a constellation to match hers. I love you. I love you. I love you.
"I love...you just make everything feel right. We're like my mom and dad," she says later, when they're watching the last of the day spill over the ocean. "Y'know?"
Joel turns and looks at her, fingers finding hers and squeezing gently. "Yeah," he murmurs, and his eyes sparkle before he kisses her. And they keep sparkling even as night cools the beach and paints their shadows long and blue along the sand.
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His room is always neat, welcoming in the way of a simple memory and well-worn, familiar touch. Esme stares at the framed verse on Joel's nightstand and fidgets with the promise ring on her finger. Corinthians 16:14, Let all that you do be done in love.
She should have known that he'd see through her attempts to smile. Joel's concern cuts deep, salt rubbed in raw by the gentle touch of his hand on her shoulder, embrace too tender for the knives her voice has unsheathe from her throat. Esme would kill someone for calling her meek, but that's exactly what her voice rolls into, pricked by brambles, when she says slowly, "You know how I applied to school in the city? I, um...I got in."
"That's great!" he says, and it feels like she's being torn apart by the earnestness holding Joel's voice together. "Congratulations, Essie—I know you worked really hard for this. I'm so proud of you and so happy for you."
She lets him hug her tight—hugs him back just as tightly—and hates herself for it. Joel cradles the back of Esme's head, callused fingers unbearably tender, and Esme knows that if she believed in hell, this would be the moment that would sentence her soul there. The killing sentences she'd prepared herself to deliver slide back down like bile.
Esme can't look at him when he kisses her goodbye one last time at the door. She'll always wish she did.
"I can give you a ride," Joel offers—when Esme thinks back on it, she's never quite sure if she's imagined the note of desperation in his voice, and worse still is that she doesn't know if that would make it hurt more or less.
"That's okay," she says (let all that you do be done in love). "Thanks, Jojo."
At home, Esme types out what she'd meant to say in person (is it really love if she's so selfish? this kindness feels like cruelty no matter how much her head is spinning), deletes it, and retypes it five times before hitting send.
we shouldn't have to wait around for each other. sorry.
It has to be curt, with all the sharpness of how Esme tells—used to tell—the pretty people who like flirting with Jojo—Joel—Joseph to piss off into the next dimension's hell. She's got to sever her own heartstrings as well as his, after all. Esme cries herself to sleep and dreams of taking pictures at the beach and a drawing in the sand that the waves never manage to wash away.
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Her parents drive her to the airport. Esme's flight is delayed and her fingertips touch bare skin when she goes to fidget with the garnet heart whose comfort is locked inside her carry-on. Even that feels like she doesn't deserve it.
On the plane, she taps out a message to the only person she hasn't said goodbye to and sits in a cycle of deleting and rewriting until takeoff. Her seat neighbor smiles sympathetically. "First time flying?"
Esme's never been on a plane before, but she shakes her head, remembers black nights and the way Joel's hair streaks gold under streetlamps in summer. "No. Just my first time leaving home."
"Ahh. Hey, chin up, don't let the nerves get to you. You'll do just fine!"
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Classes are hard, the devil works harder, and Esme decides that for the amount of money draining into this school from her bank account, she's working smarter. She starts with streamlining her schedule (dance PE credit sparks more joy than queuing up for the campus gym and getting ogled on the elliptical anyway) and ends up going to office hours for Ethics in Business and Organisations thrice a week.
Taran (he freaks if you call him Mr. Etoni, as their entire discussion section found out on day one) starts recognising her on week two. The way he smiles like he's in on some joke you aren't isn't unique to just her, but it does make Esme hate the idea of asking him a stupid question, so she researches their homework, the textbook, and every paper she can find by the same authors before showing up.
The third day, Taran glances at her quizzically from across his desk. "You...these short answers are all right, Esme. You went into more detail than I was expecting—than any of the TAs would. You've been coming in a lot. Not just to see me, right?"
He laughs, and Esme's face burns as fiercely red as her hair—the brown dye faded fast under dorm water, clinging auburn at the ends of her hair like autumn leaves that refuse to fall just yet. "No, no, I—" she splutters (does she look like that kind of girl? is that what she is, without Joel? is that what she's always been?). She looks away sharply and her breath hitches when she sees the citation scrawled in Taran's distinct, long-stroked handwriting on the whiteboard calendar. Corinthians 16:14.
"Are you Catholic?" Her voice comes out more demand than she meant it to—not that she'd meant to ask at all, but now the words are out and Esme's spine is prickling with adrenaline she doesn't know how to explain.
Taran glances between her and the whiteboard a few times before answering, "Uh, yes? Raised that way, anyway. You too?" His smile is smooth, curiosity rippling through bright blue eyes.
Orientation introduced Esme to a lot of people and the delicate art of covering up shock with a sparkly smile (turns out she's a fast learner as to what kind of hot fresher takes are even worth engaging with). "No, it just reminded me of someone. That's his favourite verse."
Taran's eyebrows lift and he nods. "Nice. Pretty romantic—your boyfriend?"
Esme's smile falters and she looks down at her hands: bare and a little cold from the aggressive AC in the building. "Oh, um, no. I don't—I don't have a boyfriend."
"Well, in that case, what are you doing this weekend?"
The world seems to go very still and very silent for a split second. The place where Esme's little red heart used to sit aches and she folds the fingers of her other hand over the wound. She'd told him herself not to wait. Unfair to him and to everything they'd had, to lament how she'd ruined it like this. Let all that you do be done in love. Esme wishes she'd had the courage to say it sooner, that day at the beach.
Taran looks a little concerned at how long it's taking her to respond. Esme swallows and looks up at him—his eyes like the ocean, washing over her like some kind of baptism. The salt won't sting if she just swims a little deeper. Taran isn't perfect—she's not expecting him to be. But he's already the opposite of Joel, and maybe that's what will help.
"Um, whatever you want to do, I guess!"
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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years ago
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in which a new relationship sparks up in the restaurant. 
a/n: hi loves! i’m back with a new story, and this is for nat’s @harrystylescherry​ playlist fic challenge! the song i chose is ‘say it’ by maggie rogers, which is one of my absolute favorite songs! hope you all like it, please reblog and leave feedback!
WORD COUNT: 13.8k words of waiter!harry x waitress!yn 
WARNINGS: angst and some smut 
COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALK ABOUT ‘SAY IT’ i’d love to know your thoughts!
pls rb to share <3
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It was eleven in the morning when Harry walked through the back door of ‘Spring,’ ready to start his long day of being on his feet while waiting tables. 
He walked to the staff’s lounge that held their lockers and a bench before looking around to see if anyone else was in the locker room; he turned the dial of his lock pad to open his blue locker. His coworkers would always tease him about being so secretive when he knows that no one would actually steal from him, but better to be safe than sorry, and he couldn’t imagine how awkward that would be confronting one of his coworkers if they actually had stolen from him. 
He put his white canvas tote bag that was printed in a brown text that said ‘Celestial Natural Foods’—a store in Hawaii—in his locker and hanging it on one out of the two hooks before grabbing his black waist apron and tying it around his waist. 
The restaurant’s attire was a simple white or black button down with black trousers. The manager of the restaurant, Irene, told the staff that they could choose either color shirt whenever they pleased. As for jewelry, she didn’t mind when her waiters and waitresses wore jewelry, as long as it wasn’t interfering with how they held the plates of food, causing them to drop it. Harry was glad to hear that Irene allowed jewelry because his rings and necklaces made him Harry. Twisting his rings and fixing his necklaces, he took a quick glance at the small mirror that was stuck on the inside of the door with a magnet, and combed his hair back with his hands before closing his locker shut and locking it. 
He washed his hands at the sink next to the locker room, and he smiled at the commotion and noise from behind him that came from the kitchen crew. They were prepping for the dinner hour, chopping up various vegetables, making the restaurant’s famous dressing and sauces, and baking the side dishes that usually took a while in the oven. 
“Hey, Harry!” Jet, one of the sous chefs, greeted as he looked up at Harry with a big smile as he continued chopping up cabbage like the professional chef that he was. 
Harry chuckled, amazed at his knife skills. “Hey, Jet. How are you today?” He leaned against the stainless steel countertop as he talked to Jet through the open space of the shelves, where the food rested under the heated and dim light when it was ready to be served. 
“I’m doing great! How was your three day vacation?” 
“It was okay. It went by fast, but I missed it here anyways,” Harry responded with a smile. Jet laughed, nodding. 
“Well, we missed you too. Anyways, Irene told me to tell you that she’s looking for you.” Harry squinted his eyes slightly, not knowing whether Irene looking for him was a good or bad thing, and Jet seemed to notice what he was thinking. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure it’s nothing bad.” 
Harry nodded, feeling somewhat relieved. Jet was his closest friend at Spring, ever since Harry started working as a waiter three years ago. He desperately needed a job because being his own boss and freelancing as a photographer could be difficult sometimes; and building up a client list when he first started out was even harder. But three years later, he was able to get his name around through his clients, and he earned enough where he could technically quit his job at Spring and focused purely on photography; however, Harry liked the restaurant too much to just quit—he liked serving people, believe it or not. His charms go a long way for respectful and kind customers, and of course, a great tip. Most of his friends always worked here as well, as he didn’t have quite a lot of friends since he moved from London, but his coworkers had become his very own friends, and he loved them too much to leave. 
“Thanks, I’ll see you when we open!” Harry said as Jet waved to him, watching him walk around the counter to find Irene who was talking to a woman he’s never seen before. 
He’s always loved walking through the restaurant because it had such a friendly and open vibe with white painted walls, trees planted in a line in the middle of the floor, and a big glass ceiling for a solarium ambience. His favorite part was that there were no walls to separate the dining area from the kitchen, so customers could see straight through the kitchen and watch the chefs work on their food with just a turn of their heads. 
“Ah, there he is,” Irene said once Harry was close enough. “I’m glad you’re early.” 
“Irene, I’m always early, what do you mean?” Harry breathed out a chuckle. 
“I know you are. I’m just glad you’re extra early today because I need you to train this lovely woman next to me.” Irene stepped out of the way to reveal you to the waiter that was going to train you today. 
Harry looked at you, and immediately, his breath was caught in his throat. The light that was provided through the glass ceiling cast down at you, giving you a glow that was ethereal, and he mentally thanked the interior designer of the restaurant from so many years ago for insisting on putting a glass ceiling instead of a regular, covered one. There you were, standing in the open light as you flashed him a smile that almost made him collapse due to how weak his knees were, and he physically had to place a hand on the brown wooden table next to him to keep himself up. You were stunning, to say the least. 
“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you offered him a hand, smiling softly at him. He shook your hand, feeling the softness of your small hand and how it contrasted to his large and somewhat rough hand. 
“I’m Harry. It’s lovely to meet you.” He smiled, two dimples indenting his cheeks. You noticed that his left dimple was more prominent than his right, but either way, you thought he was a gorgeous man. 
Yours and Harry’s eyes had lingered a bit longer, and once you had caught yourself staring, you forced yourself to take your eyes off him, even though it was difficult to. And that’s when you knew it was going to be a slight problem working around him. 
“Now that introductions are out of the way,” Irene interrupted. She turned towards Harry. “Harry, this is our newest addition to our waiting staff. You’ve been here long enough and it seems like you’re here everyday, so I’m going to leave her with you to train.” Once she was down, Irene turned towards you. “Y/N, you’re going to train with Harry for the rest of the week. It’s usually two weeks that are required for training, but since you’ve had waiting experience before, I’ll knock it down to one, and by the end of the week, we’ll see how you’re doing and where you are with everything. Sounds good?” 
You nodded excitedly, giving her a bright smile before she clapped her hands and said ‘great.’ Harry looked at you the entire time, and he just knew that you were the type of person that could light up a room with your beautiful and bright smile. 
Irene turned towards Harry once more. “Show her the ropes, introduce her to people, and just make her comfortable, yeah?” Harry nodded, teasingly saluting at his boss as he earned a laugh from her. 
Irene left, leaving the two of you, but your attention was preoccupied with the restaurant as you eagerly looked around, getting familiar with the place you’d hoped to be stable at for a while. 
Harry cleared his throat, to which you immediately looked at him. He gave you a smile before he said, “So, ready for your first day?” 
“Ready!” You exclaimed, tone a bit too excited, making you slightly embarrassed, so you curled your lips into your mouth and looked around the restaurant again to hide your slight embarrassment. 
Harry giggled. “Don’t look around too much—you might get tired of this place before you even start,” he teased, completely forgetting how shy and embarrassed you looked. 
“I think I’m gonna like it here,” you confessed immediately, feeling a certain comfort once you walked into the restaurant. Hell, the moment you researched the restaurant, you loved the place. 
“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Harry led you around the counter where customers could watch the chefs in action as they cooked their meals. “This is where you could get all the supplies needed—napkins, extra plates, utensils, place mats, everything should be here. If not, then it’ll usually be in the kitchen, right over here.” He walked over to the kitchen where there were more supplies under the table, and pointed below the table. “Here’s more if the ones behind the counter run out, and if they do run out and you just so happen to be there, please make sure to refill it.” You nodded understandingly. 
Harry walked you through the steps of how the system of the restaurants worked as he imputed a demo order into the system on the touchable screen. There were five order screens, one in each corner of the restaurant, one behind the counter, and one in the kitchen; there shouldn’t be any collision or anyone waiting for one of the severs to finish with the screen because there were only about four to five servers working every shift considering it was a small restaurant. Harry then walked you along on where to pick up the order as every dish had its receipt with the order printed on the paper along with the table number. He told you that the table numbers are in order of how the tables are set up—number one starts with the countertops since it’s closest to the entrance, following along the walls, and the tables in the middle were numbered last. 
You liked how easy their routine and system was that you were sure you’d have it down by the end of the week. Harry made sure to introduce you to the staff that you two passed by as he led you throughout the restaurant; he made you feel comfortable right from the bat, making sure to make a few jokes here and there that certainly released some tension in your shoulders from nerves. You were grateful that he made you laugh--you were worried that you wouldn’t like your coworkers or they would be mean and snarky because you’re the newbie, but with Harry, it seemed like you two were getting along quite well; he was polite, helpful, and kind. 
“So, that’s pretty much it.” He looked at the time on his Apple Watch, reading a quarter to six in the evening, 15 minutes until Spring opened for dinner. “Do you have any questions?” 
You tried thinking of anything that you could ask, but your mind seemed to have collected all the information Harry had told you and retained it quite well. “No, nothing I can think of at the moment.” 
“Great. For now, do you mind checking the placemats and the table decor for me?” You nodded helpfully. “And then if you have any remaining time left, just chill out and take a breather for a second, and then come find me when we open.” 
“Okay. Sounds good.” You smiled at him sweetly, making him smile back before he walked away and towards the kitchen. 
You headed towards the dining room, making sure the woven placements were symmetrical and even; you also straightened out the utensils that made their way out of line or off the tablemats. You did this for the rest of the ten minutes you had of peace before you made your way through the restaurant to find Harry. 
The entire time you were in the dining room, Harry was in the locker room, mindlessly on his phone to waste time. He was lucky that he didn’t have to do anything before the restaurant opened, so he had some spare time to relax for a bit. He tried cooling down to get the pink flush that painted his cheeks off, but that’s what happened when he was around you; immediately, you had already had this effect on him, making him blush and nervous around you, and he didn’t know what it was. Maybe it was the way you brightly smiled at him, practically gleaming; or the way you laughed at his jokes, which even he could admit are a bit corny and bad—a very dad-like joke, but you still laughed. 
Whatever it was, he knew that he was fucked. 
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Dinner time was a rush. Spring was busy and full; the reservation booklet was booked with no space to cater to walk-ins. 
You were shadowing Harry as you followed him around like a lost puppy, watching him interact with the customers, occasionally pulling out his charm so he would get a big tip. You couldn’t imagine if you were a customer and Harry was your server because your face would heat up instantly, and it would be difficult to contain a smile on your face. He had such a natural charm to him, making him naturally flirty as he flashed customers his smile and laughing at their horribly made jokes. 
For half of the night, you simply followed him around, watched the paths he took when he got the customers’ food and his overall routine of things. With every table he got assigned to, he made sure to introduce you to the party, always glancing over at you once he said your name as you greeted the customers with a bright smile. Harry nearly had to stop every time he glanced over at you as it seemed like your beauty always distracted him. 
You helped him with dealing with the plates, beverages, and getting extra necessities such as cheese, hot sauce, or extra utensils and plates for the table. 
Once the restaurant died down a bit, you and Harry were able to walk a bit slower, relaxing each time a party leaves. When there was about an hour and a half left of your shift and till the restaurant closes, Harry asked you if you’d like to take orders, saying it’ll be best if he observed how you would talk and serve the customers, and you excitedly said ‘yes.’ Harry was only assigned to five to six tables during his shift, and since it was near closing time, there were only two that had just arrived. 
Harry politely introduced himself, telling the parties that you were new and shadowing him, but you were going to take over for the rest of their stay at Spring. He watched you kindly talk to them, occasionally making small talk as you laughed with them; you talked about your favorite items on the menu, along with your favorite selection of wine. This time, Harry helped you with your tasks that you had done before you two switched off, and he immediately admitted to himself that the two of you made such a great team. It was only your first day here, and he already saw how naturally the both of you moved around one another, along with communicating so well with each other. 
You were bidding the last party in the restaurant goodbye with a wave and telling them to enjoy the rest of their evening before you grabbed the mason jar that held the bill, along with the tips. You walked over to the kitchen where Irene was counting all the money and placed the mason jar besides her, giving her a smile before walking over to the locker room. 
Harry was sitting on the bench with his phone in his hands, and looked up once you entered the room. 
“How was your first day?” He smiled. 
“It was actually really great. The energy here is amazing.” 
“Well, I’m glad. You’re a natural, and it helps both of us that you already have restaurant experience.” Harry completely put his phone away into his tote bag, giving you his attention, which you really admired. Some people would make small talk and quickly end the conversation to go back on their phones. “Where did you work before, if you don’t mind me asking?” 
“I actually moved here from NorCal—San Francisco—just two weeks ago. But I worked at one of the restaurants at Pier 49. The restaurant was pretty small and we weren’t as busy as it was here, only on the weekends we would get a bit busy. So, this is definitely completely different than being outside and smelling the fresh ocean a few feet away,” you explained, chuckling. 
“Wow, SF, that’s quite the trip. But we’re glad to have you. I think you’re fitting right in.” 
“Thank you. I already like it here.” Harry gave you a warm smile, grateful that you had a great first day, and that Spring gave you a good first impression for you to stay. 
The two of you chatted a bit, talking about the customers you had and laughing at the jokes they made or the conversations they talked about. It was kind-hearted and fun, and a conversation that made you feel light; it wasn’t anything serious. It ended when it was time for closing, cleaning up and making sure everything was in order for tomorrow afternoon’s shift. 
Irene handed the staff their tips for the night, which you amounted for $120 for a Sunday night. It wasn’t bad for your first night of tips, and you knew you would be working a lot more since this was your only job and you weren’t doing anything else. 
As everyone walked outside into the staff parking lot, everyone said their goodbyes to one another, spreading apart and walking out to their vehicles. 
Once you opened your car door, Harry called out for you from the opposite side of where you parked. 
“Yeah?” You raised your brows. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He offered a smile before getting into his car and starting it, but he waited until you were safely inside of your car and out of the parking garage, and then he would leave. 
He couldn’t help but notice the smile that appeared onto your face before you got inside your car, and he couldn’t help but think about how incredibly beautiful you are. 
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The entire week went on just like your first day. You were getting more comfortable with the flow of the restaurant, and where everything was. You continued shadowing Harry, but some days, he would let you serve your customers for the entire shift. 
Now that it was Friday evening, you couldn’t wait to relax the next day. You had told Irene that you were available all days of the week, and since you were new and still needed to complete training, she scheduled you for Sunday to Friday, getting Saturday off, which you appreciated. When you told yourself that you were able to work all day, you didn’t realize how exhausting and tiring that was until it came down to the end of the week as your feet ached, telling you to sit down for at least an entire day. 
Once it was closing time, you were finally able to catch a breath as you cleaned up part of the dining room. Chatter and laughter was heard from the kitchen quite loud as it echoed against the walls; you smiled, enjoying the sound of laughter, especially when it came from people you knew. 
As you were mindlessly wiping down tables, Harry walked up to you with two cocktails in his hands, smiling as he handed you one. You raised your brows, hesitant to take it from him as you wondered if it was allowed to drink since you were technically still on the clock. 
“Irene made them for us, if that’s what you’re wondering,” he said as if he read your mind. You breathed out a chuckle, taking a glass before thanking him and clinking your glass with his before taking a sip of the cold tequila drink. You sighed in relief, and Harry giggled. “Do you have any plans for tonight? I know it’s almost midnight, but I mean…you could still.” He felt his ears heat up, feeling a tad bit nervous when he was around you. 
“No, I don’t. I don’t really have any friends in SoCal, but I can't wait to go home and sleep.” 
“O-Oh okay, I was just gonna ask if you’d like to stay for a bit longer.” 
“Here? For what?” You asked curiously. 
“Well, the lot of us get together after night shifts to do a mini celebration at the end of the long and busy week. We only do it Fridays since that’s when most of us are working all together,” he said referring to the bunch laughing and talking in the kitchen. You did notice now that you had been working with the same group of people, and partially that was because you only mostly worked night shifts and so did the rest. “We usually stay for an hour—drink, eat, talk. It made us closer, actually, so I’d thought you might like to join since you’re new,” he invited.
You didn’t take long to think of an answer—to weigh out your choices of wanting to go to bed at a somewhat reasonable time or stay an extra hour and hang out with your coworkers. 
“I’d actually really love that, thank you,” you accepted his invitation with a sweet smile, making Harry’s heart pound just a tad bit harder against his chest. 
“Great! Well, come on into the kitchen when you’re done. The chefs are cooking up some food,” he said before he walked away, leaving you to finish up your tasks for the night, which didn’t take you any more than ten minutes to finish up. 
You walked into the kitchen and Harry immediately handed you a plate that you gladly took. Jet excitedly waved to you to go over to the stove so he could serve you. 
“Allergic to anything?” He asked to make sure you weren’t going into the emergency room tonight. 
“Uh, shellfish when it’s consumed. I’m okay to be around it, though.”
“Oh shit, this would not be good for you.” His eyes widened as he immediately dropped the large silver serving spoon of the lobster risotto; it looked absolutely delicious. “Good thing I’m prepared. Do you like spaghetti and meatballs?” 
“Love.”
“Great!” He started plating your plate with the food before handing it back to you with an ‘enjoy!’ as you thanked him. 
Once everyone was satisfied, you all headed out to the dining table, settling on a large rectangle table comfortably. There were about twelve of you, and it seemed like everyone had assigned seats since they immediately went straight to their spot and placed their table or drink in front of it. 
You were a bit lost, not knowing where to sit, and the only person you’re reasonably close to was Harry, but it seemed like he was a bit preoccupied chatting with Quinn, another chef. 
“Y/N! Sit next to me, yeah?” Ivy, one of the waitresses called out for you. You smiled, thankful she was the one to ask you, and you gladly took a seat next to her. 
Harry took the seat in front of Ivy, diagonal from you, and he really wished he was the one sitting next to you. 
“Damn, I really should get a large circle table for all of us so we could see each other’s faces,” Irene suggested, and the group agreed, but everyone wondered where it would be placed since the restaurant had no space for another large table. 
Everyone broke out into their own conversations, chatting with one another freely and as loud as they wanted. 
“How was your first week here, Y/N?” Ivy asked. 
“It was great! I really love this place.” Harry looked at you as you talked with Ivy. He really could get lost just looking at your beauty, and sometimes, he would have to knock himself out of his glare to prevent him from getting caught. He was just so captivated by you, and it didn’t take a lot of effort for him to be so drawn to you. 
Ivy had definitely noticed Harry’s stare from the corner of her eye, and admittingly, she got jealous because she’s had a small crush on Harry ever since she started working at Spring four months ago. But it wasn’t like she was going to do anything about it because it seemed like he didn’t take interest in her, so she wasn’t going to force it. However, it didn’t slip past her that you occasionally glanced over at Harry as well—briefly averting your eyes towards him once he took a sip of his water or someone had pulled him out of his attention on you to make conversation. 
Gently pulling you by the arm, Ivy leaned over to whisper into your ear. “Harry’s totally crushing on you.” 
You pulled back, shocked. “What?” You mouthed. 
“He can’t stop looking at you—it’s so obvious.” You simply chuckled, shaking your head slightly as your cheeks felt warm, not from the alcohol or how close everyone was sitting, but because you couldn’t even believe that Harry would have a crush on you. Sure, you two had spent the entirety of your shifts together, but you didn’t think that he would have a crush on you. 
You tried not to think of Ivy’s words for the rest of the night, and you tried even harder to not look at Harry to catch it he was staring at you. Your thoughts seemed to make you more drunk when you were trying to sober up to drive back home. You only had three cocktails, which was quite mindless of you to be drinking when you had to drive home, but you simply wanted to have fun because you deserved it, and you were comfortable and making friends. And everyone seemed to be drinking as well as they were getting a ride from the more responsible ones who were driving and leaving their car in the parking garage during the night. 
Once everyone was all out of their social battery with their plates and glasses empty, you all started to clean up, helping one another to make the process of going home quicke; there were two people washing the dishes and two people drying as the rest put those dishes away and cleaned the table. 
Just like every single night, everyone said their goodbyes in the parking lot before going to their cars to head home for a good night's rest. 
You were sober, but you didn’t feel safe enough to drive, and you don’t know if that’s the alcohol or the thoughts of Harry making you dizzy. So, instead of walking to your car, you took out your phone and opened the Uber app, knowing you’d be able to get a ride home quickly since it was past midnight on a Friday night. 
“Hey, whatcha doing?” Harry asked, walking up to you once he noticed that you weren’t going to your car. He made it a habit to watch you get inside your car and leave the parking garage safely because anything could happen in the few minutes if he left before you. 
“I’m calling an Uber. I don’t wanna drive back…” you replied before looking down at your phone again.
“Oh, I could drive you home, if you’d like?” He offered politely. 
“Really? You don’t have to do that.”
“I insist. I would feel better knowing that I was the one that got you home safely.” The corners of your lips couldn’t help but turn up into a smile as your heart fluttered against your ribcage. 
“That’s really sweet, Harry, I’d like that,” you accepted. Harry grinned, leading you to his car as you followed; he walked over to the passenger seat, opening the door for you, which easily almost made your knees buckle in. How is he such a gentleman and so incredibly kind? You wondered, thinking about how rare it was to meet a man without anything leading to more than a conversation. 
You thanked him before getting into his car; his car was very clean and he had a Saturn air freshener that hung on his rearview mirror, admitting a fresh lemon scent throughout his vehicle. Harry got in, handing you his phone to play some music and to enter your address before starting the car and driving out of the parking garage. You played Daniel Caesar, which you thought was the perfect kind of music for a night drive since your place was fifteen minutes away from the restaurant. The two of you sang along to ‘Hold Me Down’ as he watched you from the corner of his eye, adorably swaying in your seat to the song as you muttered the lyrics. 
The sunroof cover was open, giving you an orange glow every time the car passed by a lamppost. Unconsciously, you both looked at one another every time the car stopped at a red light, both smiling at one another. You were thankful that it was dark out as it hid your big smile from how much you were giddy just looking at Harry. 
Once the navigation told him that your place was on the right, he parked against the curb in front of your apartment complex. You unbuckled your seatbelt before turning towards him in your seat as he turned towards you as well. 
“Thank you for the ride, Harry. It was really kind of you to offer.” 
“Not a problem. Don’t be hesitant to ask again. I rarely drink when we have our after-hours dinners, so you’re free to drink all you want and I’ll be glad to take you home,” he told you, and you smiled, nodding your head. 
“I’ll keep that in mind. It’s just been a while since I drank and hung out with friends,” you explained. 
“No worries. I’m glad you had fun, I assumed?” 
“Yeah, lots of fun! I really like it there, and you made it bearable and fun as well as my trainer,” you admitted. Harry felt his cheeks slightly redden, and just as you were thinking, he was grateful it was dark out. 
He cleared his throat. “Well, I’m glad. You’ll be on your own now. No need for me anymore since you’ve pretty much gotten everything done so quickly,” he chuckled, a dimple indenting his left cheek, making you hold in your breath. 
“Can I still ask you for help if I need you?” You asked innocently, leaning your elbow against the middle console as you rested your chin against your fist. Harry pursed in his lips as his mind focused on the last three words that slipped out of your mouth--I need you. It was merely an innocent question relating to work that he shouldn’t think too much about, but he couldn’t help it. 
“Of course. I’m always gonna be here if you need me,” he responded, keeping it friendly. At that, you smiled, nodding your head in acceptance. You gathered your belongings that rested at your feet before turning to face him again. Leaning forward, Harry thought you were leaning in to kiss him, which he wouldn’t mind whatsoever, but that dream was crushed when you wrapped your arm around his shoulder, giving him a hug. He hugged you back, placing his hand against your back and slightly rubbing his hand up and down, hoping you couldn’t feel his heart hammering against his chest at the feel of your upper body slightly pressed against him. 
You pulled away, giving him a shy smile. “I’ll see you on Sunday. Drive safe, okay?” 
“Always do. Sleep well.” He bid you goodbye as you got out of his car, walking over to the entrance of your apartment complex. You turned around before you opened the door, waving at him before heading inside. 
Harry drove off to his place, the opposite direction of your apartment, passing Spring. He could’ve honestly been home already in the comfort of his bed, but he didn’t mind taking you home at all. That only meant he got to spend a bit of more time together, but he noticed that with every passing second, minute, and hour, he felt himself falling for you just a bit more. 
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You’ve been at Spring for almost a month, and you couldn’t believe how fast the days went by. The more you worked, the more you started to feel a place at home with the restaurant. It was welcoming and fun, and all the credit was due to the people that you surrounded yourself with. You felt a difference in your attitude, your mood, and you liked the change that it brought you--you felt happy. 
Being in San Francisco your entire life was great up until it wasn’t. It was a toxic place for you simply because of the people that you were surrounded with. You noticed that you were always on fight-or-flight mode, ready for someone to make one comment at you so you could snap at them. You hated being and thinking like that, so the best thing you did for yourself was to move away from the toxicity of your hometown, and you were glad that you did. 
It was another usual Friday evening, after hours at Spring as you sat in your usual seat next to Ivy as the two of you and Harry were laughing about a story Ivy was telling about her ex-boyfriend in college. 
Harry looked over at you, heart swooning as he watched you laugh, wiping your under eyes from the tears that had slipped out. It was a beautiful sight, he’d say; you had such a beautiful smile and contagious laugh that he loved hearing, whether it’d be from the kitchen as he was in the dining room or in the locker room—wherever it was, he always smiled to himself when he heard it. 
The two of you had gotten quite close, making the work environment bearable and fun. When you would be in the same area at the same time, you had this thing where you would bump his hip with yours lightly, and he would bump yours right back—of course, when there weren’t any food or drink handling. There would always be light conversations within those hip bumps, comfortably getting to know one another, whether it would be asking quick-fire questions or a random story about one another’s lives that would come to mind. It wasn’t an ordinary setting or time to get to know each other, but it made things fun because the two of you would come up with more questions to come up with the next time he bumped into you. It was nice having a thing with you, he thought. 
There would be moments during those little meetings when your fingers would brush delicately against his, sending shivers to his body. It was simply overwhelming in the best way possible. 
Everyone called it a night, doing the nightly routine of tidying and cleaning everything up. Despite the long shift and being on your feet, you still had quite a bit of energy that you would like to use up so you could get a night’s rest. You looked at your friends, seeing if anyone was up for a late night adventure just based off of their posture and how often they yawned, and it seemed like everyone was exhausted, for obvious reasons. But you’d ask one person before you decide to go alone. 
Once everything was clean and ready for the Saturday’s brunch, everyone walked out of the restaurant, walking over to their cars. 
“Hey, Harry?” You called out, making him instantly turn around at the sound of your voice. 
“Yeah, love?” The pet name had merely slipped out, and you felt your face getting warm, shyly smiling. 
“Uh, you could totally say no and I would completely understand why because it’s Friday night, and we had a long shift, and you must be tired-”
“Y/N?” You stopped talking, raising your brows. “Breath, yeah? Take your time,” he interrupted the rambling that you hadn’t known you were doing. 
Nodding, you took a deep breath. You didn’t know why you were nervous, but every time you were around Harry, he just made you feel a certain swarm of butterflies entering your stomach. 
“I’m not as tired as I thought, and I wanna end tonight with some sweets. So, would you like to come with me to get some dessert? Again, you could say no.” 
Harry smiled. “I’d love to,” he replied with no second thought. 
“Really?” 
“Yeah, of course. Plus, we could finally talk properly. Hate always walking away from our unfinished conversations.” He breathed out a chuckle, running his clad ring hand through his curls. 
“Great! Oh, uh, do you mind if we take your car? I took an Uber here, but I’ll compensate with buying you cookies and paying for your gas,” you suggested, keeping your excitement at bay. 
“No worries, c’mon. But I might take you up on the cookie offer.” He smiled, opening your door for you, which never failed to make you swoon. 
As he started the car, warming up the engine and turning the heater on, you two debated on where to go. You suggested going to Insomnia Cookies in Santa Monica, which was a twenty minute drive from Downtown LA, and it closed at two In the morning, but only if he was down to drive the opposite direction of where you two lived. And luckily, he didn’t mind the drive because he was always down for a late night drive and adventure, especially if it was with you. 
The car speakers played Frank Ocean, he merged on the 101, tapping his fingers along with the beat against the steering wheel. You subtly studied him as he drove, just as you did when you would glance at him across the restaurant. He always mindlessly curled his pink lips into his mouth, a habit that he, assumingly, had for years. You noticed how he would always play with his rings; his thumb would reach over to his other fingers to play with the heavy, metal rings; not helping that your mind would instantly go to what else his hands could do, especially to you, to your body, but you had to immediately snap yourself out of your thoughts to prevent them from going any further. Not to mention, the way his eyes always lit up; they had a natural gleam to them, making them incredibly irresistible to not look in his green eyes. 
He was captivating in all the right ways, and you felt yourself falling for him quite quickly, making that fear inside of you light up, inflaming your body with anxiousness. 
Your thoughts soon vanished when Harry pulled into a parking space in front of your destination, and he turned off the car. He turned to look at you, giving you a small smile before getting out. You decided to buy Harry anything he’d like, which he got the same six pack of cookies as you. 
Harry suggested eating in his car, which you agreed. Although the cold in SoCal wasn’t the same coldness as it was in NorCal, you didn’t want to stand around and freeze. The two of you make light conversation, talking about social media and enjoying the warmth of the fresh baked cookies. You then realized that you hadn’t followed him on Instagram, so you asked for his username, which was just his first and last name. 
“Your pictures are amazing,” you complimented.
“Stalking me already?” He teased. A smirk on his face present, making you roll your eyes as you didn’t know if you wanted to slap or kiss the smirk off—always wanting to go for the latter. “But thank you. I, uh, I actually took those myself.” Your eyes brightened. The photographs posted on his Instagram were mostly portraits of beautiful people, some of them were landscapes of a field or the mountains, but most of them were portraits. You knew very little about photography, thanks to the ‘Beginning of Photography 1’ class that you took in college, but you could see the depth of the picture and the way they’re taken; the emotion was clearly there, making you feel intensity through the picture. 
“Wow, you’re really talented, Harry.”
He blushed, looking down at his lap for a moment before looking back up at you again. “Thank you so much. I’m a freelance photographer.”
“Do you plan on leaving Spring to focus solely on photography?” You asked curiously. He softly smiled; he could hear the genuine tone in your voice, and he really appreciated that. 
“I’m not sure. I’ll have an appointment, maybe, three or four times a month? But the restaurant brings in more money, especially the tips,” he explained. 
You nodded. “Well, for what it’s worth, you’re extremely talented, and one day, you’ll be at the place you want to be. Everything will work out.” Harry smiled in appreciation of your words, not saying anything else. 
Taking another bite of his cookie, he changed the subject. “So, do you miss any of your friends in SF?” 
You raised your brows, not expecting that question, but you answered honestly. “To tell you the truth, I really don’t. A month before moving here,” you began to open up vulnerably; you hadn’t spoken to anyone about this. “I got out of a long relationship—quite toxic, honestly,” you said, looking at him. He had this look on his face that was so comforting, not a word coming out of his mouth, asking for details; it didn’t tell you that he was nosy or pressing you to tell him more. It simply told you that he was there to listen, whenever you were ready to tell him, and you really appreciated that. 
You hadn’t realized how hard it was talking about your past relationship because it had been all bottled up until now.  A deep breath came out of your mouth, and Harry immediately realized that it must’ve been a hard subject to speak about. Unexpected to you, he reached over to grab your hand, holding it gently as his thumb caressed your skin. He hoped he masked his nervousness well, making the smallest physical touch with you when, really, his pulse was hammering against his veins, heart pounding through his chest as his breathing began to feel erratic, but outside he remained cool, calm, and collected as if the touch didn’t drive him insane. 
You tried not letting Harry’s thumb, caressing the back of your hand, affect your ability to speak a coherent sentence, so you continued. “Uh, my ex was cheating on me with someone in our friend group. He told me not to worry about her, but you know how that goes when you hear that phrase. It was with a girl that I used to date—my first relationship, actually. The worst part of it was when I found out, I took him back when he promised he wouldn’t do it again and claimed that he loved me, and then I took him back again, and again and again.” 
Harry inhaled deeply, trying to not let the hand holding yours squeeze tightly so the blood circulation cuts off because he felt angry. He was so mad because how could anyone do that to you? Sweet, kind, and lovely you? 
“When I told him I couldn’t handle it anymore—all the lies, cheating, and betrayal—I broke up with him. Our friend group turned against me, completely ignored me. Now that I think about it, I noticed they started to be cold and rude towards me once they started sneaking around, and I have no clue why because I didn’t do anything to them. Guess they were just covering up for them because everyone knew except me, and I just felt so stupid because I was so clueless to think he ever loved me to forgive him so many times.” 
You started to sniffle as the bad memories that you lived through for the few months of the betrayal started to come up again. You were doing a good job not thinking about it when you started working at the restaurant, and you didn’t plan on telling Harry tonight, but you trusted him to let go of all the agony that you bottled up inside your mind. 
“Hey, come here,” he said, opening his arms up. You gladly rested your head against his shoulders, wishing the middle console wasn’t there so you could press your body against his. He hands rubbed your back just as it did when you first hugged him, and to say that you hadn’t been craving for his touch was a complete lie. “You’re not stupid whatsoever. I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t make you stupid. It makes them stupid for betraying your trust and forgiveness over and over again. You’re not in the wrong here nor was it your fault, love.” 
You nodded against his shoulder, and you felt him place the side of his face against the top of your head, cuddling up to you, which immediately put a smile on your face. Harry’s comfort had immediately made you feel better—it made you feel safe. You hadn’t felt so comfortable in someone else’s arms in a very long time, and considering that you’ve only known him for a month, you’d say it’s quite unbelievable how comfortable you are in his hold, especially opening up to him like you did. 
Pulling back from his hold, you looked up at him, giving him a smile. The weight on your shoulders suddenly felt lighter once you opened the bottle and poured out the contents in it. Talking to Harry was refreshing, a fresh breath of air, and you inhaled the crisp oxygen gratefully, knowing that being vulnerable and opening up had changed your friendship. 
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It was Sunday evening, and you were cleaning up to prepare for closing. It had been a long day, even though you only worked for four hours; it just seemed that you were running around more than usual. 
But you were glad that the day was over, and you could take a long nice shower to end your night. Throughout cleaning, your coworkers had said goodbye, leaving through the back door, which you found odd because everyone usually heads out at the same time, but you didn’t think too much of it. 
Once you were done in the dining room, you looked around, finding the restaurant completely empty, but everything seemed to be in order, so you headed over to the locker room. 
When you rounded around the counter top and into the kitchen, Harry jumped up from his crouched position, startling you as you took a step back, gasping with your hand over your heart. 
“Holy shit, you scared me,” you said breathlessly. 
Harry chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m sorry, I thought you still knew I was here.” 
“I thought I was completely alone, and hiding behind the counter doesn’t help.” You and Harry laughed. You hadn’t noticed the two plates of food and wine glasses that were filled with sparkling soda sitting next to him on the stainless steel counter, and you wondered for a moment if that was for you and him. “What’s that for?” 
“For us, if you’d like. I made it quickly once everything was slow and we were starting to close,” he said shyly, rubbing his tattooed forearm. 
Your brows raised, eyes widening slightly. “You made this? For us?”
“Yeah. Today marks one month being here, so I decided to make dinner to celebrate.” You were quite speechless at the thought; it was so incredibly sweet and thoughtful that Harry went through that trouble of making a meal to celebrate a somewhat significant date. Tears started to well up in your eyes, making the man in front of you blurry. “Oh, wait, no. Please don’t cry. You could definitely take this to-go, if you want! I know you’re probably tired, but-”
Harry was cut off by your arms wrapping around his shoulders. He was taken back at first from the impact of your body crashing against his, but once he regained his balance, he immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you tightly. 
Your scent was impeccable—quite alluring for running around for a few hours. He knew he smelled like food, the smoke from garlic and onions sautéing, and vegetables cooking. He buried his head into your shoulder, holding you close. This had been the first time you two were ever hugging outside of the comfort and safety of his car—no middle console to interfere, no awkwardness in trying to figure out how to give a proper hug in a confined space. He enjoyed it a lot—the way your body was pressed up against his. It made him happy, it made him feel safe. 
The intimate moment lasted for a few minutes, simply just hugging one another in relief in the kitchen, swaying slightly as complete silence surrounded the two of you. 
Once you were satisfied (although you think you would never be satisfied enough if you’re not in his arms), you pulled away, coming face-to-face with him. Your cheeks were slightly damped from the few tears that had fallen out, but weirdly, it gave you a natural and happy glow, and you were feeling exactly that. 
“Harry, thank you so much. This is the sweetest and most thoughtful thing someone has ever done for me.” You looked up at him through your wet lashes, warmly smiling at him. 
“You’re welcome. Shall we eat?” You nodded, and he unwrapped his arms from around your waist, letting you go, which he wished he hadn’t. He grabbed the two heavy plates that were filled with honey garlic chicken with sautéed spinach and mushroom on a bed of rice, and you grabbed the glasses, reaching over to place them onto the countertop before the two of you walked around to sit on the high stools. 
The two of you ate in comfortable silence, and you thanked and complimented him for the lovely meal. There was light conversation, asking questions about each other’s childhood. Listening to Harry talk about his life in England was so fascinating to you, and you wished that you had grown up with him because he seemed like such a fun and kind kid to play with. You learned that his sister and mom were back home in London, and they visited every six months, and he would occasionally go back home as well, if the bills weren’t stacking up and he was good with money. His words and mind seemed to get the best of him, slipping out about how much they would love you and that he’ll invite you to lunch whenever they visit to meet them; and he hoped he didn’t freak you out. You simply blushed, nodding your head, and not saying anything else. 
The more you talked to him, the more you found yourself staring at him as you listened to what he had to say. You’d come to terms a few weeks ago that you really liked his eyes—how green they were, and how they stare into you, giving you his full attention. You liked his hands, his hair, his nose, his cheeks, and most of all, you liked his lips. You couldn’t blame alcohol for these thoughts because Harry replaced wine with sparkling soda, so these were completely sober thoughts racing your mind. His lips were something you glanced at often, trying not to glare at them too much as he talked as you didn’t want to get caught for admiring them. They were so pink, and he occasionally bit them and curled them into his mouth, making them pinker. You liked when he would take his fingers and pinch his bottom lip, a habit that he seemed to form throughout his life. You suddenly wanted to kiss him—really, really bad. 
You shook off the thought immediately, being completely sidetracked with your infatuation with Harry. Was it an infatuation? No, you knew the feelings you felt for him felt much stronger than a simple admiration for your coworker. 
Once the talking had died down and the plates were empty, you and Harry decided to clean up. You quickly took both of your plates, beating Harry to the sink to wash the dishes. He chuckled as he watched you fast walk towards the sink; he soon followed with the glasses, placing them carefully into the sink. He decided to dry the dishes, finding the dish rag on your right side. So, he leaned over, placing his left hand on your waist, chest slightly pressed against your back as he grabbed the rag. You turned your head to the right, dropping your shoulder to turn more of your body towards him. He was close and it made you feel flushed; you felt your  cheeks heating up once he looked down at you, faces inches away from each other. 
You turned back around, quickly placing the last dish on the counter before you turned off the water. Harry was still close in proximity, not making any effort to move away from you. Turning around, your back was now pressed up against the edge of the sink. Harry rested his hands against the edge, trapping you with his arms. Your breath began to deepen, heart beating quite harshly against your chest as Harry looked into your eyes, briefly glancing at your lips, and slowly trailing them back up into your eyes. He brought one hand to graze the side of your face gently, skin prickling with goosebumps. 
“You’re so beautiful,” he complimented honestly. 
“Thank you, you are too.” 
“I mean it. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. Listen, I-I really like you, and we haven’t known each other for long but I just…can’t get enough of you,” You smiled, averting your eyes to his lips before looking back up; your cheeks and neck felt incredibly warm from his confession. Bodily, you placed your hands on his waist, pulling him towards you to close the gap between you two; Harry smirked at your action, liking the way your bodies were pressed up against each other. 
“Are you gonna do anything about it?” You raised your brows curiously. 
“What would you like me to do?” His hands were rubbing up and down your back soothingly. 
“Hmm…a few things actually,” you muttered—more to yourself but Harry definitely heard from how close you two physically were. Your fingertips were mindlessly drawing circles on his lower back where his slightly wrinkled white shirt was tucked into his black jeans. 
“Care to share?” 
You took a deep breath, looking him in the eyes that captivated you quite clearly. “Want you to kiss me.” 
The corner of his lip turned up as he curled his lips into his mouth. “Can I please? Been wanting to for so long.” 
“Tell me.” Harry raised his brows. “Tell me how long you’ve been wanting to kiss me.” 
He curled his lips into his mouth, looking down at your soft lips before back up at your eyes. “Ever since I saw you for the first time. So, please let me kiss you. Do you want me to?” 
Harry quite literally took your breath away, breath stuck in your throat before you cleared it. Nodding your head quite eagerly, you softly said, “Yeah, want you to.” 
With that, he trailed his hands from your waist, up your spine, to your shoulders, and up to your face where he placed his hands on both sides, gently holding your face delicately as if it were a piece of art that was crafted for months, years; he didn’t want to drop or break the precious masterpiece that he cradled with his hands. 
His thumb caressed your soft cheek, giving your lips one last look before he leaned in and connected your lips with his. You sighed deeply once you felt his soft lips touch yours, and your shoulder visibly relaxed, letting go of everyone that may have held you back. 
You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, pulling him in closer. A spark ran through your body as your lips molded together so perfectly in sync, making the firework inside of you pop into a beautiful and magical scene. 
Whimpering against his mouth, you suddenly wanted more of him; he was, in all ways, addicting. You unconsciously lifted your right leg, bringing it up to his hip, making Harry press himself against your core, holding your thigh. He started to feel himself harden inside of his pants from the way you’re kissing him, the way your hands gripped his hair, and the way your tongue effortlessly swiveled against his. 
You pulled away from his lips quite breathlessly, lips swollen. “Want you.” 
“Me too—want you so bad.” He leaned forward to kiss you again, and once he did, you pulled away, only leaving him with a small kiss to his lips. Harry pouted, making you chuckle. 
“That was the best kiss I’ve ever had,” you confessed. 
Harry smirked. “Well, I’ll be glad to do it again.” 
“Wanna get out of here? C-Can we go to yours?” You asked shyly. 
“Yeah?” You nodded. “You sure?” 
“Absolutely positive.” 
Harry gave you a smile and another kiss before he backed away, grabbing your hand to lead you to the locker room where the two of you grabbed your belongings from your lockers. Quickly after, you two were out the door of Spring; Harry locked up, and walked you two over to his car where he, yet again, opened the passenger door for you. 
The entire ten minute drive to his apartment, his hand never left yours. It delicately sat on your thigh with your hand on top of his, palm against the back of his hand as your fingers intertwined with his. Harry found it difficult to drive properly because all he ever wanted to do was either kiss you or look at you, and since it was just a bit after midnight, he hit all the green lights, so there was continuous driving and less kissing and looking. But that just made it quicker for him to get to his place. 
His apartment was on the second floor, which didn’t take long to get to, but catching up to Harry’s long strides as he practically dragged you up the stairs—no patience to wait for the elevator—was tiring you out. 
Once his front door closed, he immediately pushed you up against it, cradling your face in his hands as he kissed you feverishly. You practically could feel him smiling into the kiss, happy to have his lips on yours, and it completely tied your stomach into knots as the familiar flutter you felt in your chest made itself present. 
You’d come to realize, in the kitchen, that kissing Harry was everything you ever imagined. His soft lips molding and connecting with yours so perfectly made all of your dreams and realities come true. He just had a way with how he worked his lips as well as where to put his hands. But you were eager to find out what else he could do. 
Harry was the one to pull away first, which he even surprised himself with, but he led you to his bedroom, which you were too excited about. He closed his bedroom door, taking your lips in with his again, backing you up against his bed as he gently placed you on top of it, hovering over you. 
His lips trailed to your cheek, your jaw, and down to your neck where he lightly nibbled and sucked on your soft skin. You felt him lick your skin, soothing out the small love bite that he left on your skin before he pulled his head from your neck. 
“You sure you want to do this? I’d be happy just kissing you.” 
You smiled. “I’m sure, wanna touch you. You’re sure too?” You asked consent from him as well, making his cock twitch in his pants. 
“Very sure, love. You have no idea.” He sat on his knees as you laid below him, and he’s sure he’s never seen someone look so beautiful as you do; he was completely enthralled by your beauty. “Can I take this off?” He referred to your shirt, playing with the buttons on the front. You nodded, biting your lip. 
He leaned his weight on one side of you, placing one arm behind your head as you rested against it. He took your mouth in with his as his other hand began unbuttoning your white shirt, impressively with one hand. Once he got to the bottom, he sat up again, as did you to take off your shirt and your sports bra. You didn’t wear anything sexy to work because you wanted to be comfortable while waiting tables. 
Harry looked at your bare torso, licking his lips before he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking and licking the pebbled bud before switching to the other. His lips then placed small kisses down your body and to the hem of your pants, where he looked up to see you flushed from just his kisses. 
“Harry…” you whined. 
“What is it, beautiful?” He smirked. 
“Please, take it off.” 
“I’m getting there, love, don’t worry.” A breathy chuckle came out of his mouth before he unbuttoned your trousers. Your hips raised off the bed, and he swiftly took them off, leaving you in your nude seamless underwear. “Fuck, you’re so stunning, Y/N, I swear.” You looked at him and smiled; you were clearly at loss for words because of how Harry was looking at you. He wasn’t looking at you with complete admiration, like he was so lost in his daze of his sight. And that thought made you even more aroused. 
He gave you another kiss to your stomach before taking off your underwear, situating himself in between your legs, lying on his stomach. Harry looked up once more to find you staring at him, eager to watch what he’s about to do; he placed a kiss to your inner thighs, gently nibbling on your flesh, making you squirm. 
“Harry, please. Need to feel you,” you pleaded, brows crinkling. 
“Tell me what you need,” he teased, earning an impatient scoff from you, but Harry chuckled at your frustration. 
“Need your mouth on me. Please, want you to eat me out already.” 
Now, who was he to deny that request? So, that’s what he did—he slowly licked your clit multiple times before licking into your hole, collecting your arousal on his tongue. He used your wetness to lubricate your clit, completely assaulting your sensitive bud. Your back arched as the sensations ran through your body, hands gripping the sheets below you tightly that they practically wrinkled. Harry moaned against your clit, making you buck your hips into his face. 
“Fuck, Harry…” you dragged out, throwing your head back into the pillows. 
For a few minutes, Harry continued devouring your taste, not stopping until you came all over his mouth and you were completely shocked by his will to not stop until you’ve had your orgasm from his tongue. 
He replaced his tongue with his fingers, slowly entering your wet hole as he fingered you. You moaned louder; the tips of his fingers curling up to meet the softness of your upper walls. His unoccupied thumb rubbed your clit in slow circles, something that he noticed you really liked based on your hips thrusting upwards and your hand gripping his hair harder that it felt like you were going to rip out his locks. 
“So pretty, love. So wet for me.” The simplicity of his words had made you feel the familiar bubble in your lower stomach, and you wanted to release it so bad. 
“Harry, I’m gonna…cum,” you groaned out, biting your lips. 
He continued his pace on your clit, but added a tad bit more pressure, causing you to jolt a little. His fingers that were inside of you repeatedly brushed your g-spot, making you close your legs, but Harry pried them open, encouraging you to release. 
“C’mon, baby. Want you—need you to cum for me. Can you do that? Can you give me what I want?” 
“Mhm,” you nodded, mouth ajar as your voice was hitched in your throat. A few more thrust and rubs from his fingers, and you hit your high, releasing around his long fingers as he slowed his movements, riding out your orgasm while praising you for your peak. 
“That’s it. There you go.” One of his hands rubbed your stomach, calming you down while the other hand gently played and cupped your pussy as you unconsciously and slightly thrusted your hips into his hand. 
Once you had relaxed, you opened your eyes; Harry was kissing up your body before he kissed your lips so sweetly. 
“Hmm, you’re so good at that.” He smiled, kissing your neck as he started to rut his hips on your thigh. You felt his hard on through his pants, and you knew that wasn’t comfortable whatsoever. 
“Can I touch you?” You asked. He pulled his head from your neck, facing you as he was about to say it was completely fine if you didn’t, but you spoke up first. “That can’t be comfortable, and I wanna touch you—if you’d let me.” You were looking at him with innocent eyes, even though he knew what you were about to do was going against anything innocent. Plus, the way you were looking at him only made him more aroused.
“Course, let me just get out of these.” He got off the bed, but stayed closed; he was about to unbutton his shirt, but you stopped him quickly, replacing his hands with yours. Harry dropped his arms to his side once your lips were attached to his neck, giving him a small hickey on the underside of his jaw. The feel of just your lips on his skin made him bite his lips as a chill ran through him. You sat on your knees and started unbuttoning his white shirt, and with every button you undid, you gave him a kiss to every bit of his skin that was left exposed until you reached the hem of his pants. 
You looked up at him on all fours, and he watched you press another kiss to his tattooed torso. “Mind if I take these off?” You toyed with the hem of his pants. 
“No, please, don’t mind at all.” You smiled, looking back at his bulge, which outlined through the fabric of his pants. You palmed him, making him hiss through his teeth. He hadn’t felt another person’s touch in so long, so your lips and touch felt overwhelming in the best way. 
You unbuttoned his pants, which he was fast to get out of, leaving him in his black briefs. You positioned yourself to lay flat on your stomach, thankful that Harry’s bed was the perfect height to where you don’t have to strain your neck to suck on him. Kissing down his happy trail, you left a prominent love bite in between his tattooed leaves that were so perfectly inked on his lower abdomen. You then kissed his hard length through his briefs, making Harry breathe heavily. He’s never felt so teased in his life, but you were making it all worth it because nobody had ever made him feel so aroused. 
Finally, your fingers gripped the hem of his briefs and tugged them down so his cock could departure from the strained material. He was big, and you knew that from when he was driving to his place earlier as his cock was pushing against his pants, making you excited and eager. But seeing it right in front of you made you salivate. 
“Holy shit, you’re so big.” All he did was smirk at your words, knowing that fact quite clearly. You grabbed a hold of him as you held his dick upwards before you licked the underside from base to tip. Harry breathed in through his nose once he felt the smallest bit of contact from your mouth. 
Your mouth began to work on his tip, sucking and licking up the precum that had spilled out of his tip before you started to take more and more of him in your mouth. It was Harry’s turn to fill the room with his raspy and deep moan, and the noise he was making was triggering your arousal. Harry had a full view of your mouth on him as well as a great view of your entire backside, not missing the way he noticed how you started to subtly move your hips into the sheets. 
As you sucked on him, taking him further into your mouth, Harry dragged his fingers from your shoulders, down your spine, and to your ass that was out in the open with no shame whatsoever. His hands kneaded your flesh before slapping on cheek, which made you moan around him. 
“Like that?” He went back to his standing position, leaning back a tad bit to get a good look at you. “Tell me, do you like that?” You looked up at him, making direct eye contact with him as your cheeks hollowed and you sucked hard around him before letting out a ‘mhm.’ Your mouth was working wonders on him while your hand was fondling and playing with his balls, making him throw his head back and accidentally bucking his hips up into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. “Fuck, sorry, baby.” He moved your hair to check up on you, but all you did was place your hands on his ass and pulled him towards you until your nose touched his pubic bone. Harry let out a throaty moan, and your hands pushed and pulled his lower body until he understood what you were doing. 
So, he took control, holding your head steady before he slowly started to thrust into your mouth; the tip of his cock brushed against the back of your throat. There was a string of spit that was dangling from your mouth and connecting to his balls—a sight so filthy but helped him get right on the edge. 
“I’m gonna cum. Love your mouth so much. So beautiful for me, so perfect.” Harry’s hips began to jerk sloppily, indicating that he was close. With just a few more thrusts into your perfect mouth, he spilled down your throat as he stopped thrusting, keeping you halfway on him. A series of curses and your name came from his lips as he shut his eyes. You took every drop that he offered, trying to swallow every bit of content as best as you could, but some of it had spilled out of your mouth due to how much he overfilled your mouth with his cum. 
Harry seemed to be in the middle of calming down from his intense orgasm, so you took the time to clean up. Pulling back, you wiped your mouth and licked your fingers as well as cleaning his cock with your mouth. What you didn’t notice was that Harry was watching you the entire time; he lowered his head, neck straining from looking up too much, and saw you eagerly cleaning and licking every last drop that had fallen from your pretty lips. The sight was enough to make him hard again if he wasn’t too spent. 
He collapsed on his bed next to you, his head was next to your ass, to which he pressed a small kiss to your hip in gratitude. You moved to lay your head on his stomach, looking at him and giving him a small smile. 
“Come here. What are you looking at me like that for?” He reached out for you, and you moved again, resting your elbow next to his head before giving him a kiss. The kiss didn’t deepen any further, just molding your lips with one another as he tasted himself on your tongue. 
“Nothing. You seemed to have enjoyed yourself.” 
“Very much did, thank you. Did you? You could be honest with me.” 
You giggled. “Honestly…I had a really great time. You made me feel really good. The best I’ve felt in a really long time,” you told him honestly, and Harry smiled at that. 
“Do you want to stay the night? I’m always in a cuddly mood after anything sexual—well, I’m always in a cuddly mood, period.” You laughed, nodding your head before kissing his cheek. 
“I’d love to. Can I use your restroom, and do you have a spare toothbrush?” 
Harry nodded, getting off the bed before leading you to his bathroom where he gave you a toothbrush and some of his face wash. He left you to do your business and told you that he would have a change of clothes. 
Once you were done, you walked out of his bathroom, still naked, and was met with Harry in a pair of gray briefs and a change of his clothes in his hands, handing them to you. He gave you a kiss to your forehead before going off to the bathroom and leaving you to change. 
You replayed the evening in your mind over and over again as you changed—you really enjoyed his company and him as a person. Harry was a more than nice guy, who seemed to like you for whatever reason, and you liked him too. Maybe a bit too much, and you felt like you liked him more than you projected—dare, you say that you were falling in love. But you couldn’t let yourself feel that way; you were beating yourself up for it. In all honesty, you were scared, so you had a habit of not portraying the entirety of your feelings out on the table so people could perceive it. 
Your mind was racing with so many thoughts in your head, repeating and spitting out every insecurity that your previous ‘friends’ had told you in the past—calling you a slut and how you couldn’t keep anyone around because they both ended up cheating on you. Your head was telling you Harry would do the same, and as hard as you were trying to deny that because Harry was the kindest person you’ve ever met, it was all you could hear. You couldn’t do this, no, you couldn’t feel like this, you thought. You felt like you needed to protect yourself before you were in too deep. 
Without even knowing, you were frantically grabbing your clothes and shoes that were all thrown across Harry’s floor. Your heart was racing, mind telling you to ‘leave’ and that ‘nobody is going to love you,’ so that’s what you were doing, leaving. 
You made it out of his bedroom, so close to the front door until you realized you had forgotten your purse. Turning around to go back, you were met with Harry leaning against the frame of the hallway entry, holding your purse in his hands. 
“Not planning on saying goodbye?” His voice sounded defeated, the complete opposite as to what it was prior. He looked down at his feet, not even able to make eye contact with you when he was always keen on making direct eye contact when talking to someone, but seeing you walk out his bedroom door when you were supposed to be waiting for him in his bed to cuddle was heartbreaking. 
“Harry…”
“That’s all it was to you, I’m guessing? You know you could’ve said no to staying the night, I would’ve understood. But to say yes after we’ve been intimate, and getting my hopes up? I-I thought you liked me, that’s all, and I’m stupid for falling for it,” he ended with a scoff. He felt extremely vulnerable; he laid his feelings out on the table, let you see his body, and it seemed like you just picked and chose your cards straight from the deck to only have Harry fold. 
“No, that’s not it-”
“Then please tell me what it is before I drive myself into the wall thinking what I’ve done wrong!” He raised his voice—not too loud where it startled you, but enough to where he simply let out his frustrations. 
“I like you, Harry, I do. But we can’t be together.” You didn’t know how to put it into words, so that was the best you could come up with. 
“And why’s that?” He furrowed his brows, walking towards you, but keeping a safe distance. “Give me a good reason why, and I’ll let you go—I’ll leave you alone. We’ll simply be coworkers who don’t talk to each other. I’ll-”
“I’m scared, okay! I’m scared because I cannot fall in love with you, even though I’m already in too deep. I’ve done it once and i-it hurt me.” You were on the verge of bawling, maintaining your emotions. “I-I cannot feel this way so soon—fresh out of a relationship…I’ve only known you for, what? A month? We barely even know each other, Harry-”
“See, now, that’s where you’re wrong. You think I don’t know you, but I bet that you know I know you quite well. Probably more than all of your bitchy friends back home who you’ve known for years.” You stayed silent, not knowing how to respond, but he was right, he did know you better than anyone you knew back in SF. “If I didn’t know you then I wouldn’t know that your favorite thing to eat while you were growing up was chocolate croissants. Your favorite color often switches every few days, but some of them are, and specifically: maroon, evergreen, mustard yellow, burnt orange, and beige. You love watching kids cooking competitions in your free time and often root for the one who is doing miserably and knows who won’t make it to the next round. You’re learning how to bake, which is what you said that you’ve always wanted to learn out to make proper pastries, and based on what you bring to work for us to try, you’re on the right path to being a baker.” 
“I’m…” you were at a loss for words, tears lining your eyes. All of the questions and playful conversation you and Harry had during work had come around in his words; it showed that Harry really listened, and when he did, he didn’t forget every detail you’ve told him. Your heart felt like it was in your stomach, making your stomach flutter in giddiness and shock. 
“I could go on, honestly, but it would be an entire list of things that I’ve remembered about you.” Harry softly smiled down at his feet. “All I’m saying is this: I like to think I know the basics of you, and I still have a lot to learn about you. But don’t run away from me, please. If you want to and you don’t want anything to do with me, that’s fine, but I can’t let you walk out without trying not to stop you.” He sighed, completely putting himself out there as he was practically begging you to stay. “I really like you, Y/N, I mean it. I don’t care if we’ve only known each other for a month. I don’t care that you just got out of a relationship. I mean if you’re still in love with him or have a bit of interest in him still, then that’s different-”
“I don’t,” you interrupted, shaking your head no. It was the truth; you hadn’t felt love for your ex in a really long time, and you simply stayed with him and kept forgiving him just because it was comfortable. 
“Okay…” 
“It’s just…I don’t want people to think I’m some kind of person who moves on from relationships so quickly. I-I mean, I didn’t come here just to find myself in another relationship, y’know?” Your tone was concerning, like all of your worries were piling up into one big stack that made your head hurt from thinking too much. 
“No one’s gonna think that—I don’t think that. Besides, it isn’t any of their business.” Harry walked even closer to you, inches away as his hands grazed your upper arms. “Let me ask you something, does this feel right? Being with me?” You nodded with no hesitation. “Say it,” he instructed, wanting to hear the words come out of your mouth. 
“This feels right.” 
Harry smiled at you comfortingly. “Okay, then let it be right.” 
“I’m scared,” you admitted, looking down. He lifted your chin up with the soft touch of his fingertips, goosebumps littered your skin with just his simple touch. 
“Me too, but I’m doing surprisingly well at hiding it. We’ll go slow, okay? No pressure into labeling; let’s just go with the flow, alright?” He suggested, and you softly muttered an ‘okay,’ reaching up to wrap your arms around his shoulders, giving him a warm and grateful hug. 
“I’m so sorry-” you said into his shoulder, but he quickly cut you off. 
“No need to be sorry, I understand.” His understanding makes you even more soft as you hugged him tighter; a few tears slipped your eyes, streaming down Harry’s shoulder. 
After a moment, the two of you pulled away, feeling so much relief from the hug and conversation. 
“Is your offer on staying the night still up?” You asked hesitantly.
He smiled. “Yeah, it always is. C’mon.” He took you by the hand, leading you to his room and into his bed—not for the actions of pleasure, but for a nice and comforting cuddle. 
You situated yourself on his chest, comfortably trailing your fingers up and down his skin as his arm was wrapped around your shoulder. 
Lifting your head up to meet his face, he smiled at you before you gave him a sweet kiss to his lips. It didn’t lead to anything, it didn’t even deepen; just the feel of his soft, pink lips on yours was enough to make you feel bliss. 
You pulled away. “Slow?” Harry chuckled, nodding his head. 
“Slow.” 
Your face warmed up as you smiled, cheeks aching; you positioned yourself back onto his chest for the night, taking up all of his space on the bed when your side was completely empty as you held him close. Even though you’ve only known him for a month, you felt yourself falling; because ultimately, it felt right. 
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please come into my inbox and tell me your thoughts, feelings, and favorite moments! thank you for reading <3
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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago
Text
Shut Eye
pairing/genre: idol!Yoongi x reader, fluff
premise: In a world where every night you meet your soulmate in your dreams only to forget their face and voice when you wake up, you’re now more desperate than ever to find them.
word count: 2.6k
a/n: I was listening to the piano version of ‘For Forever’ from Dear Evan Hansen while writing this...so maybe that explains it?? THIS IS SOOO CHEESY YOU GUYS
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requested by anon - thanks for the fun request, hope you enjoy! a picture of your ask/request will be at the bottom of the post. Thank you!
_________________________________
You awoke with a gasp, the covers flung aside in an effort to grab the notebook and pen you kept handy on your nightstand. Not bothering to flip on the lamp, you used the little moonlight filtering in through your window to write down the events of your dream.
You spent most nights in the dreamscape with your soulmate, his face and voice a blurry mess in your mind. The two of you would talk for hours, that much you know. The general idea of the conversation would stick with you as well, but beyond anything else, you’d wake up with the same familiar feeling.
The specific brand of heartbreak that tends to accompany goodbyes. 
Tonight’s dream had been something entirely different, though. Try as you might, your mind can’t seem to conjure up the exact words your soulmate had so calmly whispered in your ear as you stood on a red carpet facing innumerable flashing cameras. However, one thing was for certain.
He was trying to send you a message. 
He was trying to find you out in this big world. 
You’ve made a bullet-point list now, with the words red carpet, famous?? and beautiful suit starting off the list. As the list continued on, you only grew more and more confused. Why did your soulmate choose that dreamscape? After years of the usual sitting room and long chats, something must have happened to make him change.
Frustrated, you scanned last night’s notes to see if anything out of the ordinary had happened. You nearly gave up before one of the final bullet-points caught your attention.
we talked about family
did we talk about our family??
Eyebrows scrunched and lips pouted, you wracked your brain for any recollection of the conversation from the night before. Indeed, you remembered waking up with the distinct feeling of discussing future baby names, but for the life of you, you couldn’t remember what he had said he liked. What you did remember was that it was a name that had made you laugh, and that he had been upset about it for the rest of the evening. 
Not too upset, though. He’d still quietly warned you in the way he always did when he knew he was about to wake up. Softly lacing his hand through yours, running his thumb over the back of your knuckles until in the blink of an eye he was gone. 
There had been several occasions when you’d woken up still feeling the ghost of his hand on yours.
The notebook in your hands glared up at you, an unwelcome reminder that you were nowhere near close to understanding the meaning of your most recent dream. 
Normally, you would have just let it go. But today was different. Today you woke up just knowing that he had meant something by the dream. The way he’d brought you out on that red carpet, your arm linked through his as he led you toward a group that was already posing for pictures-
Wait. A group? You’d forgotten that part. Another bullet-point was added to the growing list.
part of a group (friends?)
Your eyes drifted shut as you tried to remember any more details, the ways the cameras flashed seemed to impair your vision as you’d looked at the group that had smiled as you neared. One of them had made some extra space for you and your soulmate, and you’d nearly keeled over when you saw who it was.
But who was it?
You sighed, scribbling one last bullet-point before your brain quit functioning.
I recognized the friends - famous?
It was a bit discouraging to look down at the list and see so many question marks, but you paid it no mind as you tossed your notebook back onto the nightstand and found the strength to get up for the day. 
You’d just have to wait until the next dream.
•••••••••••••••••••••••
“I have no idea where this is going,” you admitted while staring up at the ceiling,  sprawled out on your bed. “But I just know that he’s trying to tell me something. You know?”
Your best friend, Ji-eun, just laughed on the other side. “I’m sure he was...but honestly, who knows? Maybe he just wanted a change of scenery.”
“Ugh. You’re no fun.”
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but no more fun for you tonight. I’ve got to go to bed. Got to wake up early tomorrow, remember? It’s a big day.”
“Oh, that’s right! Are you nervous?”
You’d nearly forgotten that your best friend was also one of South Korea’s most beloved singers. On most days, you forgot her stage name, too. 
“No, not really. I just usually hate having to sit there by myself, you know? There are so many groups, and them I’m just by myself. Looking beautiful.”
“Aww, poor IU, all alone.” You teased. “I’d go with you, but-”
In an instant, Ji-eun, or IU, squealed and you knew that she had an idea. “Yes! Come with me!! I’ll sneak you in! You won’t even have to worry about the red carpet- wait.”
You winced, having held the phone at a distance from your ear so as to not immediately lose your hearing. “Oh no, now what? You know I’m not fit for award shows, Ji-eun.”
“Didn’t you say that your dream was on the red carpet?”
You blinked. “Yeah.”
“Sooo,” Ji-eun dragged out, “Maybe you’ll see him.”
A wry laugh escaped you. “What makes you think he would recognize me even if he was there? Or that I would recognize him?”
IU made an indecisive noise. “Well, you already described his beautiful suit-”
“Hey, no teasing. It was absolutely gorgeous.”
“Exactly! If there’s a guy that shows up wearing that suit, then maybe that’s him! And, maybe he’s part of a group! You would recognize the group if you saw them, wouldn’t you?”
“You’re just trying to get me to come with you,” you drawled, ignoring the little spark of hope. 
“Obviously. Hey, you know that really pretty red dress you bought not that long ago?”
“Yeah.”
“Wear that, and work your dreamscape magic or something to help him remember the red dress. He’ll recognize you when he sees you tomorrow!”
With an eye roll you’re pretty sure Ji-eun heard through the phone, you groaned. “If he’s even there. If.”
“So you’ll do it?”
In the end, it was the memory of having to say goodbye every morning without even remembering who you were saying goodbye to that had you agreeing. 
••••••••••••••••••
Falling into your dreams had always felt more like waking up, the urge to stretch and run around almost too much to deny. Tonight, you entered the familiar sitting room that you’d frequented nearly every night for the past few years.
Your soulmate is waiting for you when you enter, his back turned to you.
A part of you knows that the two of you have been through this many times before. You’ve technically met your soulmate hundreds of times - maybe even thousands at this point. But every night, it’s the same little feeling of anticipation as you wait for him to turn around. 
Always wondering who it might be. Always dreading the moment you wake up and forget his face all over again, waiting for the next dream to identify him.
He’s in the black, lightly checkered suit that he wore last night, not a single strand of his black hair out of place as he turns around with wide eyes.
Your breath is momentarily caught in your throat as you suddenly recognize him, not only from the previous dreams but from nearly everywhere else in the waking world. 
“Hey,” Yoongi mumbles, a soft smile gracing his lips as he looks at you. “You look beautiful.”
You looks down at the red dress you’re wearing, the same one you’re planning on wearing at the award show. Nodding at his suit, you grin.
“Are you wearing that to the award show today?”
He nods, stepping toward you. “I wish you could go, I know that I’d be able to find you-”
“I am.”
Yoongi stops, his mouth slightly open. He takes a single step toward you. “You are? How?”
“Ji-eun is my best friend, remember?”
He takes a moment to recall that tidbit of information about you, nodding. “So...we’ll see each other.”
“I hope so.” You tilt your head. “But will you recognize me? It was so hard for me to remember any details after last night’s dream, I feel like it’s getting harder.”
“I think it is,” Yoongi agrees, striding over to you and grabbing your hand even as a light pink dusts over his cheeks. “But I don’t think I’ll be able to forget this dress.” With a wink that belies his shy nature, Yoongi leads you out onto the red carpet, where cameras are waiting. 
He walks you through the event, glancing at you every few seconds as though afraid that you’ll disappear at any moment. That’s certainly a valid concern - it’s happened plenty of times.
You’ve just made it to where the rest of the members are standing when you feel the tell-tale pull back toward reality. 
You’ll be waking up at any moment now. Most likely because of that pesky nest of birds that have decided to camp out just outside of your windows. 
Instinctively your grip on Yoongi’s arm tightens, and he turns to you. He can tell by the look in your eyes that you’re about to leave.
“What if it doesn’t work?” You blurt out, taking in every last detail of him. From the way his cheeks are still pink to the fit of his suit. 
Yoongi absolutely shocks you as he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, pulling you a little closer. His breath that dusts over your ear feels so real as he whispers gently to you.
“We’ll find a way. I promise.”
•••••••••••••••••••
It was the same dream as the night before; the same infuriating goodbye that seeped into your bones as you hurtled awake. However, this time, you could have sworn that you recalled a puppy-dog gaze that was begging you to remember him as you left the dreamscape.
You’d worn the red dress you currently had on, the red lace falling just below your knees. A part of you remembered the way your soulmate had reacted when you’d waltzed into the dreamscape, the way you had casually linked your arm through his as you walked onto the red carpet.
Today you couldn’t find the energy to write anything in your full notebook, opting to bury your head in your hands.
“Who are you?” You groaned. The feeling of his soft lips against your forehead has you sighing, wishing that you could replay it all over again. After shooting a glare at the red dress hanging in your closet, you grabbed your notebook to write down one note before getting up.
We love each other
•••••••••••••••••••
Ji-eun - er, IU, instructed you to wait for her at the entrance to the photo-op portion of the red carpet. She would be busy doing little interviews before that, which honestly didn’t seem that appealing to you. 
Especially not when you were so nervous you thought you were going to throw up.
Staring down at your red dress, you nearly jumped out of your skin when there was a hand on your shoulder.
“Ha! You’re jumpy today,” IU teased, “I wonder why.”
“Oh good, you’re finished.” You ignored her tease, happy to get moving. “You look amazing.”
It wasn’t a surprise, but she still deserved to be complimented. IU looked absolutely ethereal in her flowy green gown, the two of you looking like some sort of Christmas ad. 
“You look great as well!” She motioned toward the carpet. “I think we’re just after this group. Ready?”
Armed with a smile and your best friend at your side, you ventured onto the carpet. It was easier than you though it would be; most of the time you were stepping aside to allow the photographers a clear view of IU.
You’ve nearly made it to the end when a fresh round of screaming picks up. 
There’s only one group that can command that much attention.
You couldn’t help but crane your neck as you see BTS walk onto the carpet, just a couple of groups behind you. Your eyes widened on their own accord when you saw them, unable to shake the feeling of having met them before. 
Of course, they pay you no mind. However, you couldn’t help but chuckle at the way Suga took a moment to get up on his tippy-toes, looking around. You went to point it out to IU, nobody paying either of you any mind as you walk off the carpet. You lost all ability to speak, however, as you took a closer look.
It’s the suit. 
The one that is checkered with a light gray, the one that fit your soulmate just right. 
It’s the black hair that’s perfectly styled. 
And as Suga turned to look your way, you didn’t miss the way his eyes caught on your red dress.
Almost like he had been looking for a red dress.
In the span of a single heartbeat, you made eye contact with the idol, the same question lingering in your eyes. 
For Min Yoongi, that’s all it took. 
Abandoning all precepts, he took off down the carpet, heading straight toward you. From the way the other members took one look at you and your red dress and immediately began speaking to those present, you knew that they’d been waiting for this. Knew that they weren’t planning on keeping this low-key, because there was no real way to do that. 
Not as Yoongi saw you and knew. 
You managed to take three steps toward him before he was before you, grinning with his gummy smile even as his ears turned red. 
“Quick,” Yoongi breathed out, reaching down to take your hands in his. “If it’s really you, tell me what name we can’t agree on for a girl.”
The question threw you off guard, making you laugh. But after a moment, you found with a gasp that you remember.
You remembered everything.
The way the two of you first awkwardly stumbled into the dreamscape at the age of nineteen. How you eventually opened up to each other, grew to care deeply about the other. 
You remembered the nights when the two of you were rambunctious and laughing at stupid stories Yoongi told you about the boys. 
You remembered the nights when you sat in silence, dreading the moment you would have to wake up.
And you remembered that just a few days ago, Yoongi had brought up family. You’d spent the night talking about how many children you’d want, how you’d raise them, what you’d name them.
And there was one horrible name that he loved and you hated, and neither of you were willing to budge on it.
“Ugh,” you groaned even as you smiled. “We are not naming her Pearl! It would make her sound like a pirate ship!”
The cameras flashed, which made Yoongi’s eyes glimmer as he laughed along with you. Then, without a care in the world except for knowing for certain that it was all real, Yoongi tugged you closer until your foreheads touched and all you could see were his dark eyes pulling you in.
“I told you we’d find a way.”
Hundreds of cameras flashed, documenting the moment and effectively labeling it a dream come true.
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griffintail · 4 years ago
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Bedroom Confessions
Summary: After waking up from a night of drinking (Y/N) and her helper confess a few things. (Part 2 to Drunken Care and Cuddles) 
Requested: Yes by @exorcisms-with-elmo​ 
Pairings: Wilbur, Technoblade, Awesamdude x F! Reader (Separately, In-Game)
Warnings: Hangover?, mentions of drinking, Swearing
A/N: Phil was not included because I already made them dating so I just did these three. Thank you for requesting! Hope you enjoy! ♥
        Wilbur
        It took a while but Wilbur was able to go to sleep. Everything just felt so right and it was a comfortable warmth but eventually, he managed an hour or two of sleep.
        The peaceful slumber was cut short though as Wilbur jumped at the sound of his son’s shout that woke up him.
        “Sorry! I was just looking for you! Come back later!” Fundy quickly said before closing the door.
        Wilbur rubbed his eyes as he tried to wake his groggy mind. Why would Fundy be looking for him…? Right, there had been a party last night and Wilbur was known to get drunk but he hadn’t last night. He had been glad to because…
        His eyes snapped down to see the woman groaning as she woke up after Fundy’s shouting.
        “Why the hell were you…?” She started to call as she kept her eyes shut tight to fight off the hangover but stopped, feeling something off.
        This didn’t feel like her bed…
        She reluctantly opened her eyes and looked up to meet the face of a bright red Wilbur, her own face heating up rapidly as she jumped back. Her head pounded at the fast movements but she couldn’t help it right now. Why the hell was she in a bed with her new president?! The same guy she had a crush on since she first met him!
        “I’m sorry.” He told her quickly. “You hadn’t gotten drunk last night and since you didn’t have a home right now, I brought you here. And I tried to sleep in the front but you didn’t want to be left alone.”
        “Oh god, what did drunk me say?” (Y/N) thought as she tried to form words.
        Wilbur stood up on the side of the bed, nervously running a hand through his hair.
        “I’m so sorry sir.” (Y/N) finally said, wincing at her headache. “I hope I wasn’t too much of a bother to you.”
        “It’s alright, I was more worried about making you uncomfortable in the morning.” He told her before clearing his throat. “I’ll be in the front of the van if you need anything. There should be a few potions in the chest to help the headache too.”
        With that, Wilbur let himself out of the room, no one else in the van now. Because no one was there, he put both his hands on either side of his head.
        “Alright, don’t freak out again.” He muttered to himself. “Just act normal. Not like you slept in the same bed as her and don’t even know if she likes you…Damn it, stop!”
        Meanwhile, (Y/N) tried to calm down the redness spread across her face as she stood up. She spotted her coat and hat on a chest and she put them on before digging through the chest. There was a spare health potion and she took a small drink of it to lessen the pain in her head, the potion unable to fix it completely as that wasn’t its purpose.
        As she stood there adjusting her hat, she desperately tried to remember what she might have said last night. She remembered starting to drink with the others as they all cheered and celebrated. Wilbur told everyone he just wanted to enjoy their new freedom. Everything else was fuzzy.
        Wilbur had taken her to a place to sleep like the true gentleman he was and even procced to put up her drunk self. It made (Y/N) smile softly, reminding her why she liked Wilbur before she frowned about what she might have said that she can’t remember.
        “God, I better not have something stupid.” She muttered before taking a deep breath and walking away.
        Wilbur had distracted himself, cleaning up the mess that had been created of the chaos from the final battle. When the door opened, he saw (Y/N) and gave her a smile.
        “You ok love?”
        “Yes, Mr. President.” She smiled back, putting her hands behind her back.
        If he was acting like normal, maybe she didn’t say something embarrassing.
        “Please, I’d like it if you still called me Wilbur.” He told her, a light blush back on his face.
        “Oh, alright Wilbur.” She nodded slightly.
        He put the things he had in his hands away properly, (Y/N) shifting on feet before helping to tidy a few things as well. After he put the things away, he adjusted his jacket nervously. Now was a better time than any, before they both had to work and Wilbur had to deal with the men outside.
        “I…I wanted to talk about you some things you said last night,” Wilbur said.
        (Y/N) froze and gave him an embarrassed smile. “Oh god, what did I say?”
        Wilbur once more ran a hand through his hair as his nerves shot up. “When—When you asked me to stay…you told me you loved me.”
        (Y/N) went bright red as she stood up straight, hiding behind her hands. “You’re joking right?”
        Wilbur melted, she looked so adorable like that and his mind lost all thought for a moment. “I—No, love. You said that.”
        “I’m so sorry Wilbur. I shouldn’t have ever drunk last night.” (Y/N) started to ramble as Wilbur came over to her.
        He took her hands and moved them from her face.
        “Calm down darling.” He muttered. “I told you that to simply ask you, did you mean it?”
        Wilbur stood nervously as (Y/N) ducked her head, before nodding.
        “I do like you, ever since we first met.”
        His heart swelled and he smiled widely before tilting her head up to kiss her forehead, causing the woman to freeze. His nervousness flooded away knowing that it was true.
        “Well then let me tell you that I fell in love with you since you told Dream to fuck off right to his face.”
        “Really?” She breathed.
        “Would I ever lie to you love?” He chuckled and she shook her head slowly. “Good, now that we have that sorted, would you give me the honor of being L’Manberg’s first lady?”
        “…I’d be honored President Wilbur Soot.” She smiled.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
        Technoblade
        “…what the hell are you doing in my bed?” Technoblade heard, groaning at being woken up.
        He opened an eye to see (Y/N) squinted at him to avoid the light and having just woken up herself.
        “You were being stupid last night.” He said simply before closing his eye again.
        Neither was embarrassed by the situation of being in such a position. They’d both deny it to their grave, but there had been times when they were scared or needed comfort and both were their own comfort friend as they had been best friends for years now. They had fallen asleep like this before, though not in a while as both had started to develop feelings for the other, neither noticing as they were as dense as bricks.
        “What does that mean you damn nerd?” She huffed.
        “That’s my line.” He pushing her away from him but she avoided his hand and sat back on her own, rubbing her eyes.
        “What happened last night?” She asked.
        “You got drunk.”
        “Yeah, I can kind of tell by my headache. But that could be because of you.”
        He opened his eyes slightly to give her a glare, which made her smirk.
        “But seriously, what happened?”
        “All of you had a party, I stayed out of that.” He told her. “I didn’t know you got drunk so easily but you did. You became sickly nice and Tommy tried to scam you while you were.”
        “That little prick.” She glared at the door.
        “We’ll deal with him later.” Techno waved his hand. “After, you wouldn’t leave me the hell alone and had me stay with you.”
        (Y/N) blushed lightly at that but turned away, not looking at Techno as he closed his eyes again. He didn’t want to bring up what she said yet, his thoughts still fried about it. She was drunk, she couldn’t have meant it. Didn’t mean he wasn’t going to make fun of her for it without directly telling her.
        “Well, nothing too embarrassing.” She muttered.
        “I mean, you were pretty stupidly embarrassing.” He snorted quietly.
        “What does that mean?” She threw up her arms.
        “You told me to not tell Technoblade a secret.” He told her, not giving her the whole truth.
        “Oh my god.” She put her face in her hands. “What secret?”
        “I mean, if I talk about it, technically I’m telling Technoblade.” He shrugged.
        “What leap in logic is that?!” She exclaimed, wincing at the pain she caused her head.
        “Don’t hurt yourself.” He cracked an eye open again, watching her. “And technically, I’ll hear if I say the secret out loud.”
        “Well, I already said it to you, you jackass.” She rubbed her temple. “So, tell me.”
        He looked to think about it before shaking his head as he finally got up. “Nah.”
        “I fucking hate you.” She groaned, laying down on her bed.
        Techno paused at the door, thinking for a moment before deciding to just say it.
        “No, you love me. Oops, guess I heard.” He smirked at her trying to play it casually, making her sit up quickly, face bright red.
        “I did not say that.” She tried to call the bluff.
        “Sorry nerd, you did. You were drunk though so…”
        She played with her shirt and he stayed where he was.
        “…did you hate that I said it?”
        Techno stood there watching her. It was obvious that she did mean it. That her word had been true and matched his emotions. He debated his next words as the voices were telling them how soft it would make him, how she was already in the way because she was his friend and too nice to be with the blood god, how he should keep his mouth shut.
        “No, I didn’t. I love you too nerd.” He told her; his face deadly serious as (Y/N) looked up in surprise.
        “You mean it?”
        “Do I lie?”
        “You try, but you’re terrible at it.” She admitted.
        “Heh?!”
        She giggled, and his expression softened at the sound.
        “So, how about we leave Wilbur to mope with his hangover with Tommy and we go back to sleep?” Techno offered.
        “That sounds fantastic.” She agreed and Techno came back to the bed.
        He laid down and she nuzzled into his side. Running his hand through her hair much like he did last night. They were both content as Techno rolled his eyes at the voices changing their tune and calling him a simp.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
        Awesamdude
        Sam was a pretty light sleeper, so he wasn’t surprised that he woke up to (Y/N)’s movements as she got up first.
        “Hey.” He greeted her before she freaked out.
        Didn’t work, she jumped and would have fallen off the bed if not for Sam’s faster reflexes. He caught her arm and pulled her to sit on the bed.
        “How…What are you doing in here?” She questioned in surprise, wincing as she held her head.
        “Hang on, I’ll get you a potion and I’ll explain it to you,” Sam told her before getting up.
        He went to his bag, taking out a spare health potion. Handing it over to the woman, she took a small drink of it to help relieve some of the pain. It wouldn’t take it all away but it would be enough to at least function in the morning light.
        “Usually, you just drop me off if I have too much to drink, what happened?” She inquired.
        “Well, what do you remember?” He asked her in turn as he sat back on the bed.
        “I don’t know, it’s kinda fuzzy.” She muttered as she handed the potion back and he put it down on the floor. “I remember sharing a few with Ant then I think we started a few games?”
        “Yeah, that’s how the party started. Ant convinced you to yell swears across the room to annoy Bad once you were both pretty drunk but I stopped you after that. After that, you were actually pretty clingy.” He teased.
        “Bull.” (Y/N) tried to call his bluff. “You always whine about how I won’t listen to you when I’ve had too many.”
        “Yeah, that’s the usual case, that wasn’t last night.”
        “I don’t believe you.”
        “Well, how do you explain me being here instead of my own house?”
        “Well—I—I was just crazy drunk and you wanted to keep an eye on me.” (Y/N) blushed slightly in embarrassment.
        She couldn’t believe in her drunk state that she clung to the best friend she had started to develop a crush on.
        “It wasn’t bad though,” Sam assured her with a grin. “You called me super smart and a great fighter after all.”
        (Y/N) groaned as she put her face in her hands. “Bet that boosted your ego.”
        He shrugged. “You also said how it would be nice to stay with me forever.”
        “What were we doing?!” (Y/N) threw up her arms.
        “We were just taking you home.” He laughed.
        “God, I’m never getting drunk again.” She muttered.
        “There was one more thing,” Sam told her and she fell back on her bed.
        “What did I say?” She huffed.
        “Well, I’d like if I could look at you when I told you.” He said, all his teasing gone.
        He felt a spike of nervousness as she sighed while sitting back up. Hopefully, she’d repeat what she said last night.
        “What?” She asked, meeting his eyes.
        “You…You said you loved me.”
        She went bright red as he could feel himself getting warmer.
        “I’m so not drinking ever again.” She ducked her head.
        “…did you mean it?”
        She fiddled with her hands before nodding. “I do love you. You’re just…so fantastic.”
        He smiled widely as he went over, crouching down, (Y/N) glancing at him.
        “Well good, because I love you too.”
        She hugged him and he laughed hugging her back.
        “You should probably rest up and I need to go take care of Fran,” Sam told her, smiling into the top of her head as he was so tall. “But I’ll come back later and we’ll go on a date?”
        She nodded, grinning into his chest.
        He was so happy she truly meant it.
543 notes · View notes
221bshrlocked · 4 years ago
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A Sky Full of Stars
Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Fem!Reader
Words: 11340 (I know I say this all the time but this really was supposed to be a short one-shot but it got away from me because I just loved this idea so so much. Sorry not sorry.)
Warning: Nothing but fluff. Some kissing that turns into a heated make-out session that turns into a cuddling session.
Inspired by this tiktok by the lovely ameliagonzales who was gracious enough to allow me to use her idea and write this.
A/N: It's been a while since I wrote something that's fluffy slightly angsty and dialogue-centered. I'm not going to lie, this took longer than usual because of the lovely anon that decided to tell me my characterization of Din is hella off and I realized I don't care if it is because it's my writing and I get to do whatever I want with it. Let me know how I'm doing in the comments and reblogs are always always appreciated. You can add yourself to the taglist here. This is not beta'd btw.
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“No silly this isn’t green, it’s blue.” The little girl put her toy away and brought out a new one, giggling at your faux pout as she shoves the new object in your hand and asks you what color you thought it was. You turn it around in your hands, trying your hardest to hide the hurt growing in your chest at not knowing what color it is. You think it’s closer to the first toy she gave you but you’re not sure. You’re never sure. You look at the girl and smile at her before setting the toy aside and wiggling your hands at her. She immediately stands up and screams as you run after her, laughing along with her giggles as you chase her around and watch as more kids join in and run away from you.
You’re not sure how long you’re chasing the little ones and you hear some of them gasp and ‘oooh’ when your young friend runs into a solid figure. You stand up and watch as the girl tears up as she apologizes to the man she just ran into. You’re immediately hugging her and assuring her that everything is okay, turning to the side and narrowing your eyes at the man that scared her half to death.
“Shame on you Mando,” you pretend to smack his shoulder three times and watch as the child in your arms sniffles between laughs when the Mandalorian tries to hide away from you.
“I’m sorry little flower, I didn’t mean to scare you.” You watch as the man reaches for a small bottle in his pocket and slowly hands it to the girl. “Here you go, a token of my apology.”
“It’s okay sweetheart, he’s a nice man...even though he doesn’t look it.” You wink at Boba Fett and giggle along with her when he sighs heavily and pushes the flask into her hand. She takes it and shakes it around, her eyes lighting up when the bottle shimmers at her ministrations and illuminates her hands.
“It’s so pretty! How did you know orange is my favorite color?” The girl slides down your arms and quickly hugs the hunter in front of you before running away and showing her friends. You look at her with longing in your eyes, wishing with all your heart that you saw the gift the same way she saw it.
“Still no color princess?” Fett questions and you shrug your shoulders as you make your way towards Slave I and sit on the ramp.
“Yup, same old same old. Who knows if I’ll ever see color.” There is a hint of hurt in your tone but Fett says nothing as he approaches you and stands to the side. He pats your shoulder once as he takes his helmet off and softly wipes at the visor to clean it.
“Don’t give up, kid. You’re still young...you’ve got all the time in the galaxy and you travel everywhere. You’ll meet them when you least expect it.”
“In this line of work? Yeah, I don’t think so Fett. But at least one of us didn’t lose the positive attitude. If I’m being honest, I was hoping to see color before the next supply run. The chances that I’ll live to go to Pasaana during another Festival of the Ancestors are practically non-existent. I heard they wear so many variations of the same color...maker, it would have been nice to experience that.” You pick up a rock and throw it away as you nervously ring your fingers and brush the conversation aside, not wanting to start the journey with a sour mood.
“Well, lucky for us, we have extra help on this run so it should be quicker. Maybe you’ll see color before you go?” Fett looks up and you follow his line of sight as another ship slowly lands just behind Slave I. You stand up and walk behind your old friend, looking back at the crates to ensure they’re still there before you approach the landing ship.
“Oh no, what poor soul did you manage to rope in this time?” You eye the ship and swear there is something familiar about it but you pay it no mind as Fett puts his helmet back on.
“Hey, I don’t always bend people to my will you know. He volunteered actually...he knows his way around the Narvath Sector and he might even tag along with us to the Forbidden Valley. So, be nice and don’t flirt with him.” Fett warns and you throw your hands up in defeat, failing to hide your smile as you respond with feigned offense.
“I’m not going to flirt with him.” You raise an eyebrow when Fett snorts at your high-pitched voice as he makes his way to the landing ship, and mutters something beneath his breath. The ship powers down after a couple of moments and you take a deep breath when the doors to the docking ramp slide and a figure appears at the corner.
“There he is...took you longer to land this time.” Fett yells to the other Mandalorian, not noticing how you take a few steps back as the man walks down towards the two of you.
“Oh well things just got a little more interesting now.” You break the silence and cringe when the Mandalorian struts past your friend and takes out his blaster. You hold your hands up when he points the weapon at your head and you watch as Fett strides to the two of you and stands in between your body and his brother’s weapon.
“You?” The Mandalorian growls and he tries to step aside and Fett holds his chest and pushes him back.
“Me!” You smile nervously and gulp when Fett turns around and looks at you. You swear you can almost see the look he’s giving you but you say nothing and hope that he can handle this situation for you.
“Oh.” You would have laughed at Fett’s response if there wasn’t a bounty hunter standing not five feet away from you and killing you a thousand different ways.
“You two know each other?” Fett breaks the silence and continues to stand between the two of you, knowing his friend’s short temper and your dumb comments might escalate this situation.
“I wouldn’t say we know each other. I’d say we met very briefly on-” You try to explain what happened the last time you saw the Mandalorian but he cuts you off. He pushes his blaster into its holster and you sigh heavily but keep your hands raised, afraid he'll change his mind any second and try to shoot you again.
“You almost blew up my ship!” The Mandalorian yells and you jump at his exclamation. His irritation seeps into your skin and you narrow your eyes at him as you walk around Fett and begin to nudge at the beskar armor with one finger. Your anger at his unfairness outgrows your fear of what he can do to you and you continue to push on his chest plate as you talk back at him and ignore Fett’s whispers to let it go.
“I did no such thing. I merely tried to fix your shitty cooling radiator panels but you scared the fuck out of me when you came up behind me and suggested I switch the parts, hence why I dropped the cauterizer and burned through the wires. So technically, you almost blew up your ship.” You’re breathing heavily and you’re sure your nose is flaring from how annoyed you are by the man in front of you. A few seconds pass between the two of you and it’s not until the Mandalorian tilts his head that you realize what you’ve just said and done. You take your hands away and swallow the growing lump in your throat as you step back and apologize a few times before you walk to the crates.
The Mandalorian stands there in silence, never once looking away from you retreating form, even when Boba Fett comes and stands him.
He’s missed this, and more than he preferred to admit.
“Little princess is fiery today.” Fett comments and notices when his friend turns and stares at him through the visor. The Mandalorian says nothing as he walks away from Fett and follows you. You’re in the middle of counting the supplies in the crates when you hear the crunching of footsteps approaching you. Thinking it’s Fett that’s come to help you move the supplies, you roll up your sleeves and ask him to take the opposite side.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at your brother. I was just annoyed because I was only trying to help and he scared me.” When you look up and see that it was the Mandalorian and not your friend, you drop the crate and stare at him. He says nothing as he picks up his end of the large box and waits for you to mirror his actions before he begins to walk back to his ship. Neither of you say anything as you go back and forth until all the crates are on his ship. You walk out and stand next to Fett, waiting for his instructions to see whether you were going to go with him or with the new member of the crew.
“So what’s the plan?” You avoid the Mandalorian standing next to you and turn your body towards Fett, hoping that he’d say that you were tagging along with him.
“You’re going to go with him.” You cease to breathe at his command and clench your fists when you recognize his tone. He’s not leaving room for negotiation.
“W-why?” The Mandalorian walks back to his ship at your question and you pout when you realize that he may have misunderstood your inquiry. Not that it mattered whether or not he misunderstood...
“Fennec...we’ll meet you at Iktotchon.” You look to the ground and shuffle your feet against the sand, turning back to him and nodding quietly as you follow behind the Mandalorian.
“And princess!” Fett calls for you and you glance at him when you reach the top of the ramp.
“Hmm?”
“Try not to get into too much trouble.” You look at him with annoyance and shake your head when you realize he’s just teasing you. Standing at the large doors of the ship, you glimpse one last time at Mos Eisley before you make your way into the heart of the ship. A few moments later, the ship powers up and you watch as the barrier raises and locks just as light filters through the area. You’re not sure what you’re supposed to do or where you’re allowed to go so you remain standing where you are. Not a minute later, you jump when a voice breaks the silence and booms through the ship.
“Come up to the cockpit.”
You take a deep, calming breath as you set your things to the side and ascend the ladder to the cockpit. You come face to face with a door and you’re about to knock when it slides open and reveals the Mandalorian sitting in the pilot chair.
“Sit down and buckle up.” He says as he flicks on buttons across the board. He turns his head towards you to make sure that you’re buckled in before he raises the throttle levers and begins to take off. You hold back from saying something snarky as the turbulence gets worse, only shutting your eyes when it gets to be too much. You’re not sure how long you’re sitting there with your hands clasping the leather of the chair but it’s only when you hear the seat in front of you turning that you realize you were already in space.
You frown when you open your eyes and see the Mandalorian already looking at you, the tilt of his helmet letting you know that he was silently mocking you.
“What?” You break the silence and watch as he rights himself before he turns around and pushes the auto-pilot button.
“You’re a supply dealer who hates flying.” It’s more of a question than a comment and you can’t help but narrow your eyes when he stands up and continues to stare at you.
“So?”
“Not a good quality of life.” If you’re surprised by his response, you try not to show it as you stand up and face him defensively like before.
“Says the man who wears beskar armor every minute of the day.” It’s a low blow and you know you have no right involving his religion. But you’re fed up with his passive aggressiveness and you want to make sure he knows that he can’t talk down to you.
The Mandalorian turns away and looks at the passing stars of the galaxy, softly whispering for you to follow him as he exits the cockpit. You want to apologize for what you said but you hold back instead, following him down the ladder and standing to the side when you see him moving things around.
“This is my cot, and that right there is yours.” He points to two doors across from each other at the end of the hallway and waits for your confirmation before he walks past them and shows you the refresher.
“Help yourself to any of the rations. We’ll arrive at Iktotchon in four sleeping cycles so there should be enough food for the two of us until we get there.” You’re not sure what makes you reach for his wrist when he turns around to walk away. He stands still and looks down at the hand grasping his beskar before he looks at you.
“S-sorry...I- umm, are you coming to Pasaana?” You ring your fingers nervously as you look at yourself in his visor, taking two steps back when he straightens up and looks down at your hands.
“You’re going to the Festival of the Ancestors.”
“Yes. Well, it’s me, Mando, and Fennec. So I was just wondering, you know, if there was...if you had anything lined up after this supply run. Because if not, you can tag along...it only happens every-”
“42 years. I know.” He cuts you off and you’re not sure if his body-language seems more open or not but within a few seconds of chatting with him, he’s suddenly relaxing and leaning back against the metal wall. He’s silent for longer than you prefer so you force a smile and rub the back of your neck awkwardly as you prepare to tell him to forget that you asked since he probably has more important matters to handle.
“Ok.” It’s a simple response yet you feel your skin heat up as he nods at you and walks to his quarters. He hesitates at the door for a moment before he pushes the button and steps into the privacy of his room.
You let out a deep breath and stand in your spot for a few minutes before you slip back to the docking space to bring your belongings to the room. The ship is surprisingly more quiet than others you’ve been on and you remember what he told you about it the last time you saw him. A faint memory of how he defended the size of his ship makes you giggle. Then again, you’ve heard from Peli about the piece of junk he had before this and knew that it was barely considered as machinery.
“Maker, how am I going to make it four days on this ship with him?” You shake your head as you prepare to go to bed. The twin suns were just setting on Tatooine when you were leaving and you knew it was better to get as much sleep in as possible considering how quickly things sometimes escalated on these kinds of runs.
Surprisingly, things weren’t too bad when you left your sleeping cot the following day. The Mandalorian was already awake and cleaning his weapons. You bid him a quick good morning as you moved past him and looked for some snacks. He didn’t seem like he wanted to converse with you so you opted to stay in your room for the remainder of your waking hours. A voice in your head told you to keep the door open in case he did want to chat eventually but as you thought, he never once disturbed you.
The second day on the ship was perhaps slightly more eventful. Although he continued to pass his time in silence, he did manage to ask you to help him fix something in the cockpit. You were shocked he requested your services with ease and said nothing as he stood aside and watched you tinker away with the radar display screen. He thanked you twice when you finished and told you that he’d let you know if he needed your help with anything else.
The third day, however, made you wish you could open the docking doors and throw yourself out in space. You hadn’t seen him all morning long and you thought it was probably because he wanted some privacy in the cockpit. By the middle of the day, you jumped out of your cot and grabbed some spare clothes as you headed to the refresher, wanting to shower once before you landed on the sand-filled planet the following. As you walked to the door and pushed the button, you were met with a heavy fog escaping the room. When the fog cleared, you dropped your clothes and slammed your hands on your eyes, immediately backing away from the room as the Mandalorian scrambled to wrap something around his waist. You weren’t sure how many times you apologized in the span of one minute but when you heard the familiar sound of a blaster turning on, you stood in silence and waited for him to say something.
“Pfassk, do you have no kriffing regard for privacy?” He growled through the vocoder and you shook your head to try and explain to him that you saw nothing but his back.
“I- maker, I’m so sorry. I swear on my life I didn’t see anything except your back. I didn’t know you were in there...I really didn’t or else I wouldn't have gone in.” You sigh in relief when you hear him murmur to himself as he sets down the blaster and shuffles around in search of his clothes.
“What do you mean you didn’t know I was in there? The red light was on, which usually means someone is in the fucking refresher using it.” Hearing him swear shouldn’t make you shiver and yet you do. When you notice that he’s gone still, you assume it’s safe to look at him again. Taking a deep breath, you turn around and lower your hands as you muster up the courage to try and explain to him why you couldn’t see the red light.
And boy was that a mistake. You regret removing your hands from your eyes as soon as you take a good look at him. Turns out, the beskar armor only made him look more intimidating. The man was large, made to be a hunter. He was broad-shouldered, muscular in all the right places and soft in others. You unintentionally frown when you see his bronze skin littered with scars of all shapes and sizes. Maker, the life he led was worse than you thought.
“I- uhh, I don’t...I couldn’t see it.” You hated how much your voice broke when you tried to explain yourself. As much as you wanted to blame it on being afraid of him, you knew it was less about the danger he exuded and more about the fact that you could see more of his skin than you thought you ever would.
“Excuse me?”
“I didn’t know it was red.” You knew none of what you were saying was making sense but this wasn’t exactly a situation that you thought you’d find yourself having to deal with, and with the Mandalorian of all people.
“Are you fucking with me?” He was less hostile than earlier but his words were still spoken aggressively. You couldn’t blame him really, especially when you knew how strict his religion was.
“N-no. I- my species doesn’t see color until- well, it doesn’t matter. My species doesn’t see color. We just see grays. I’m sorry...I should have asked before if there was anything I needed to learn about the ship that required me seeing colors. It escaped me. I’ll try to pay more attention...I promise you I saw nothing.” You take one last glance at the heaving, glistening body in front of you before you turn around and walk in your room. You shut the door behind you this time, knowing that he probably wanted some of his privacy back and that he would need to limit himself should you keep it open.
It’s not until a few hours later that you sit up when you hear a soft knock on your door. You stand up and push open the barrier, finding the Mandalorian standing in front of you with his helmet looking straight at your reluctant expression. You wait for him to say something and when he doesn’t, you raise your eyebrows and silently ask him if he needs anything.
“I didn’t know about your...I didn’t know. And I didn’t mean to scare you with the blaster either, it’s a reflex to- umm.” You nod at him and look down to see what he’s holding in his hands. “You left your clothes lying on the floor.” He pushes the fabric towards you and averts his eyes when he sees your undergarments peaking through the shirt. You thank him as you set them down on your bag and look into his visor again.
“Ad'ika?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m sorry.” The whispered exclamation does little to calm your nerves and you’re not sure what to say to him so you nod and awkwardly smile into the shiny beskar helmet. The Mandalorian murmurs a quick ‘good night’ before he makes his way to the cockpit, leaving you as confused as ever.
You don’t get an ounce of sleep that night, the image of him in nothing but a helmet and some flimsy pants making you wish he had shot you with his blaster instead. You refuse to admit the rising emotions you’re beginning to feel towards him, mostly because it didn’t matter whether or not he reciprocated them.
You still couldn’t see color.
He wasn’t your soulmate.
You’re afraid to leave the room the next morning, not sure which version of the Mandalorian you were going to have to deal with. It turns out, there was nothing to worry about because not surprisingly, you got the quiet, slightly shy man chatting with you. He pretends nothing happened the previous day and you go along with it. You’re just about to enter the atmosphere of Iktotchon when you receive a hologram from Fett telling the two of you of the sandstorm passing through the meeting point.
As you buckle into the seat behind the Mandalorian, he takes a moment to turn around and call for you.
“There’s going to be turbulence.”
“I- I know.” You barely hold back from furrowing your eyebrows at his comment but then he turns around to face you completely and you narrow your eyes at him with suspicion.
“I’ve landed on worse planets.” It takes you a few extra seconds to realize what he’s attempting to do and you can’t help but laugh and break the moment. You quiet down when he turns around and begins to descend to the planet.
“Are you worried about little old me Mandalorian?” You try to distract yourself from the sudden, harsh shaking of the ship but the teasing does little to calm your nerves when you realize that the sandstorm was as bad as Fett made it sound. You shut your eyes and try to picture the calm nights you’re so used to on Tatooine.
“You know, you can just call me Mando.” His voice breaks you out of your haze and you growl in response when you hear a few sounds go off above you.
“No, I- I can’t call you that. I reserved it for the other guy already!”
“You mean the Mandalorian who already told you his name?” He claps back and chuckles when you sigh in irritation at his question.
“Fine okay you’re right. How about this? Can you land this fucking ship without killing the two of us Mando?” You’re screaming at the top of your lungs and grasp the belt around your torso harder when you don’t hear back from him.
“Mando?”
“You mean the ship I already landed ad’ika?” Your eyes shoot wide open and you look around frantically, only to see that most of the turbulence you experienced was due to the sand and gravel hitting the metal of the ship.
“Oh...that was- not as bad as I thought it would be.”
“Anything beats Maldo Kreis.” Mando says as he stands there across from you and the slight tilt of his helmet at your confused expression makes you realize he may not have meant to say that out loud.
“We need to go. The storm will only get worse if we wait until night.” You nod in agreement and follow him out of the cockpit to the docking station. Mando instantly regrets lowering the docking ramp when he sees gravel quickly entering the ship. You run to your room to grab the helmet you brought with you and lock it in as you return to help him with the crates.
It’s a difficult few hours on the planet, and you grow more irritated when the Ikotchi threatens you with less supply exchanges. When his demeanor suddenly changes and he asks you to take the crates and leave, you thank him and quickly take the crates up the ramp with Fennec before he changes his mind. You never once notice both Mandalorians as they subtly push their blasters back into their holsters.
You’re leaving Iktotchon later than you prefer, mostly because both bounty hunters find themselves in a heated argument that Fennec has to end not-so-gently. You don’t bother asking Mando what the issue was when you see him strutting into the cockpit, quickly strapping yourself in when he glances at you to make sure you’re safe.
It’s a rough take off for both his ship and Slave I, but you say nothing of it, knowing that he might not appreciate any light teasing at the moment. Once you’re out of the planet’s atmosphere, Mando puts in the coordinates for Pasaana and sends a hologram to Fett, letting him know that you would be reaching the planet in less than a day.
You want to ask him if you could help in any way but you decide against it and leave him to his thoughts. You want nothing more than to take a long, hot shower to rid yourself of all the sand that managed to seep into your clothes. But then you notice the state of the docking area and before you can talk yourself out of it, you look around for anything that resembles a sweeper and clean as much of the floor as you can. You’re thankful that Mando doesn’t leave the cockpit and when you’re done, you go back into your room to grab a change of clothes so you could use the refresher.
You think you hear Mando passing by your room but you say nothing and make your way to the refresher, halting in your steps when you look at the light and find it turned off.
Great.
“Mando? Are you in there?” You’re not sure if he can hear you or not so you try to ask him again a little louder.
“Mando!? Are you i-”
“No.” You jump as soon as you hear him respond from behind you. Turning around, you clutch at your chest when you see him standing in front of his door without the beskar armor.
“I- uhh, t-there’s no light. And I wasn’t sure what that meant really.” You’re ringing your fingers again, and hope that he doesn’t notice just how nervous you are in his presence.
“Well I- I rewired the electrical circuits of the refresher so you know when it’s occupied and when it isn’t. If the light is on, it means I’m in there, and if it isn’t, then it’s free for use. No more colores.”
You look at him as if he took off his helmet, trying to wrap your mind around the fact that he went out of his way to accommodate you when you’re only on his ship for another few days.
“Thank you,” is all you manage to say before you push the door and scramble in. Mando looks at the door for another few minutes before he remembers that he hasn’t eaten in a while. He cooks up a meal for two quickly and eats his share before you finish your shower. When he hears you walking out, he sits in his usual corner and brings out his weapons to polish them.
You smell food as soon as you walk out of the refresher and you throw your clothes on your cot before you make your way to the large space across the hallway. You’re about to ask Mando about the food situation when you see a plate opposite of him on the table.
“It’s yours.” Mando breaks the silence as he wipes in between the crevasses of his blaster, nodding towards the space in front of him to let you know that you could join him,
“Thank you Mando.”
Neither of you say anything as you inhale your dinner and it’s not until you’ve washed your plates and set them aside that Mando decides to break the silence.
“Can I ask you something?”
“S-sure.” You think he’s going to ask you what it’s like to not see colors and to only see gradations of gray but his question catches you off guard.
“When can your species see color?” If you were uncomfortable by his question, you did a good job hiding it from him. Mando watches as you push off the wall and return to sit in front of him, lazily pushing around the towel he was holding as you answer him.
“This might sound stupid and I’m usually told that it’s not real but I’ve seen those of my kind experience the second they could see color so I know it’s not just a fable we’re told when we’re young. Basically, we see color when we meet our soulmates.” Mando’s heart breaks when you throw him a forced smile, one he’s seen a million times looking back at him in the mirror.
“Your soulmate?”
“Yup, the person I’m destined to be with. My other half. The one that will belong to me and I to him.” Mando nods along with you as he stands up and hangs up his weapons one by one.
“I know what you’re thinking. What’s someone like me going to do at the Festival of the Ancestors? Honestly, I think it’ll be fun to attend it whether or not I can see the colors. It’s a rich culture so I’m sure I’ll enjoy it either way.”
“I can always walk around with you and describe to you the colors, t-the patterns even. If...if you want.” His suggestion throws you off guard and as earlier, you gape at him as you try to figure out what he was playing at. You think he’s pulling your leg and will laugh at you at any moment, but when he doesn’t, you realize that he’s being dead serious.
“That would be nice Mando. I might not see the colors but I could always imagine what they look like next to each other.”
And just like that, the conversation is over as quickly as it begins.
“Good night mesh’la.” Mando murmurs as he makes his way to his quarters, leaving you more hopeful than you’ve felt in a long while.
It’s a weird thing to admit but for the first time in years, you don’t go to sleep wishing you could wake up and see colors. No. You doze off wondering what it would feel like to hold his hand and maybe, just maybe, kiss it. You think of how soft his untouched skin must feel like and how calloused his scarred muscles would look.
When you dream that night, you see faint images of his lips caressing yours and his firm arms bringing you into his embrace.
And you wake up with a lazy smile etched on your face because those dreams, those sweet, lovely memories your brain conjured up during the night, felt as good as seeing color.
You can’t look at him for the duration of the morning, constantly pretending that you’re doing something or other so he doesn’t think you’re avoiding him because the last thing you wanted was to make him think you didn’t want to talk to him. But you just can’t find it in yourself to look into his visor. Every time you so much as glance at the beskar helmet, you remember what your subconscious conjured up and you stutter out a response to whatever he says.
Not surprisingly, Mando notices the shift in your behavior and he waits until you finish fixing the crates’ locks, which were clearly not broken, before he approaches you.
“Mesh’la.”
“Yes Mando?” You’re still not looking at him and Mando starts to genuinely believe that he’s done something wrong. When you try to walk past him to place the tool back in your room, Mando reaches out and takes hold of your wrist before you’re out of reach. You look at his gloved hand wrapped around your skin before you meet his eyes past his visor and Mando holds his breath because for a moment, he thinks you can see straight through him.
“You’re angry with me.”
You never realize until this moment that Mando tends to ask most of his questions in the form of a statement and it’s strange. It’s strange because it never occurred to you that he’s the type to perhaps jump to conclusions when he can’t read the situation. Setting the tool box down, you stand up and fix your shirt as you muster up the courage to respond to him.
“I’m not. I’m not angry with you. I’m- it’s...difficult to explain.” His hold loosens but he’s standing in your space and you think it’s because he’s not totally convinced by your answer and won’t let it go until you give him a proper explanation for the sudden change in your treatment.
“It’s difficult to explain why you’re not angry with me.”
There it goes again, that weird phrasing of his inner thoughts. You huff in irritation and Mando misunderstands your annoyed expression so he steps away and turns to look everywhere else but you.
“No, Mando...maker- yes it’s difficult to explain because you’re- no, not you. It’s not your fault it’s mine. I’m just not used to- gods why is this so hard?” You’re visibly stressed and it must be a sight because Mando comes back to stand in front of you and he rests one hand on your shoulder, waiting until you turn to look at him before he tries to break the anxiety-inducing silence.
“You don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. I- I shouldn’t have offered to walk through the festival with you. I should have thought of how uncomfortable you’d feel before I selfishly asked t-” You perk up at his choice in words and you’re about to ask him what he meant by what he said but he doesn’t give you a chance. “Please believe me when I tell you I only wanted to...I thought it might help.”
“You see, this is exactly why I’m avoiding you.” You’re not sure who’s more surprised by your little outburst but when his hold tightens around your shoulder, you think maybe it’s him.
“So you are avoiding me.”
“Yes okay? I am, I’m avoiding you because the last few days felt like a whiplash of emotions and I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. One minute you’re angry and quiet and it’s as if I’m not in the same space as you, and the next thing I know, you’re rewiring your damn ship so I know how to use it and then offering to pretty much waste your time during one of the most beautiful festivals in the galaxy just to make sure I’m enjoying myself. And...and it’s difficult because I feel myself falling but I don’t want to because I’m afraid...I’m afraid you won’t be there to catch me...because you don’t have to. Because why would you when-”
You’re not sure how you got to this moment but all you know is that you're’ suddenly surrounded by Mando and the cold beskar armor and his natural musk and this unique woodsy scent and it’s-
It’s breathtaking.
“Cyar’ika, I didn’t know...I didn’t know I was causing you this much distress. It’s difficult for me to- to speak my he- to speak at times. I wasn’t thinking of how I’m coming off and I was so busy trying to figure out my- my own feelings...that I didn’t stop and think of what you must be going through.” His voice is low and you think perhaps that it’s breaking with every word he whispers through the vocoder, so you do the only thing you think of at the moment. Reluctantly, you wrap as much of your arms around him as physically possible, hoping he’d understand that you were listening to him and no longer trying to ignore him.
“Mando-”
“I- I volunteered for this supply run.” You’re not sure how this relates to this current affair but you sink further into his embrace, hoping that he wouldn’t shy away from explaining why he’s bringing this up now.
“I know. Fett told me.”
“Did he tell you why?” Mando replies instantly and you furrow your eyebrows even though you know he can’t see you.
“N-no.”
“I- I couldn’t stop thinking of you. Ever since the last time I saw you, I’ve been at war with myself, with what I was allowing to happen. I knew you weren’t to blame with the cauterizer but I couldn’t accept my heart letting you...maker, I can see why you said this is difficult.” He chuckles nervously and you hold your breath in anticipation because he isn’t, he can’t be admitting what you think he is.
“W-what’re you saying Mando?”
“I’m saying I need you cyar’ika. I’m saying, I’ve been dreaming of you for the past 53 sleeping cycles. I’m saying, I can’t bear the thought of not seeing you after Pasaana.” You don’t realize how long you’ve been holding your breath until you exhale against him and Mando pulls away, keeping his helmet aimed to the floor as he continues. “And if- if you can give me a chance, I’d like to- I’d like to...well, I’m not exactly sure what you enjoy doing but I’d like to do it with you. You don't have to give me an answer now. I know I’m being selfish and I know that I- I don’t belong with you because you haven't seen color yet. But please, please consider this. Consider me.” His voice is much more reserved, lower even, than before and you realize it’s because he was probably considering not telling you up until now.
Your heart breaks at his last words because this was never something you thought you’d have to deal with. But looking back at the last few days, no matter how confusing or strange they were, you can’t help but admit how alive you’ve felt.
You know he doesn’t expect you to answer him right away and you know you should take some time to think over what he’s asking of you.
So when you lay both of your hands on his chest and ask him to look at you, Mando thinks you’re going to reject him and you feel his muscles tense when you step closer to him.
“I do...I- I am considering this Mando, I have been for the past few nights if I’m being honest...it’s actually part of the reason why I couldn’t look at you today. I woke up with this unusual thought, well, unusual to me. It’s been so long since I stopped thinking about seeing color and directed all of my attention to something, or rather, someone else.” You smile up into the visor and slowly reach to rest your hand on the space between his helmet and his cowl. The mere touch of your skin shakes him to his core and Mando has to clench his fists so he doesn’t lose control over himself.
“Today was the first time I woke up not caring if I hadn’t seen color because- because being with you, and- and talking with you and staying on this ship with you felt like I’ve already seen color. I don’t know what’s going to happen when I do...if I do, but I know that I’d like to give this, us, a shot.”
“You...you do mesh’la?” He almost sounds like a young child asking his parents for permission to have something and when you nod at him, Mando can’t hold back anymore. He wraps his arms around you once more, and carries you off the ground, smiling to himself when he hears you giggling at his dramatic display of affection.
He pulls away and you think he’s about to say something but a message comes through to the ship and Mando apologizes quickly before he ascends to the cockpit. You stay planted in your spot for what feels like hours before you hear Mando telling you that you’re nearing Pasaana. When you get to the cockpit and take your usual seat, Mando rises from his chair and approaches you, kneeling down at your feet to buckle your belt easier and ensure that you’re safe. It’s a small gesture but you know he’s conveying a thousand emotions in that little tap to make sure that you’re buckled in properly and when you smile at him, he reaches over and pushes a stray hair behind your ears before he returns to his pilot chair.
You don’t feel the turbulence once, mostly because you’re too busy replaying the brief moment over and over again in your mind until you’re sure you’ve committed it to memory.
Mando has to tap on your shoulder twice once he lands, and you nod in affirmation when he asks if you were feeling alright. The two of you make your way out of the ship just as Slave I lands. When you glance at Mando to ask him about the argument between him and Fett, you find him already staring at you. You smile at him and watch as he looks away apologetically. Maybe he really was as nervous as you.
“You’re coming along then?” Fett says to Mando as you make your way towards the desert and you pretend to focus on the dozens of kites flying in the air, unsure whether you were meant to be a part of this conversation or not.
Mando replies in Mando’a and you look to Fennec to ask her something about the kites to try and ignore the two men who may or may not have been talking about you. You’re about to ask Fennec about the colors of the flying toys when Mando steps in between the two of you and takes hold of your upper arm, pushing you ahead of the others so he could get a private moment with you.
“Is- are you okay?”
“Fine. He’s being difficult.” His curt answer lets you know that he wasn’t going to reveal what that whole ordeal was about so you nod and try to fall in step with him. You’re about to ask him about the colors of the kites when Mando leans over and whispers in your ears.
“Those two over there are red, like the color of the twin suns on Tatooine when they’re just setting. And, that one over there, the large one flying higher than the rest, it’s a dark blue...like the night sky.” You try to not let the proximity of his body affect you but the more he tells you of the colors, the closer you want him to get to you.
“That smaller one is light green, like many of the plants on Felucia.”
“I’ve never been to Felucia.” You admit to him as you keep your gaze on the kites, trying to differentiate between the colors but barely noticing a difference between the grays.
“I can take you there.” He offers with ease and you look into the visor and smile at him. “I’d like that.”
You can vaguely feel their eyes on you but you don’t bother to pay attention to them, wanting to spend as much time with Mando as you could. Once you reach the edge of the festival, you thank the Aki-Aki that approach you and wrap a necklace of flowers around you. You laugh when they reluctantly look at Mando and he sighs heavily at your death stare before he leans down and allows one of them to place a necklace around his cowl as well.
“Hey Mando?”
“Hmm.”
“Do the necklaces look the same?” Mando turns around and sees Fett and Fennec look away from the two of you. He waits until they walk the opposite direction before he looks at you and takes hold of your necklace.
“Yours have lighter colors...yellow, orange, white, pink and a few light greens here and there. Mine is darker. This is purple, and these are blue...and all of these are dark red and brown.” He points to each of the flowers and tells you its color, never once noticing the way you’re looking at him and hanging onto every single word he says.
When you hear the sound of distant music playing, you take Mando’s hand and make your way through the crowd, telling him that you want to see what they’re doing on the other side of the festival. Mando says nothing as you pull him through, only responding when you directly ask him about the color of the caravan fabrics and laughing when you joke about how he technically blends into the surroundings. And when you come across a large crate that you can vaguely see some designs on, Mando offers to make room for it on his ship so you can get it. It’s a long argument between the two of you but he wins in the end, telling you that he genuinely wanted to gift you something that you can remember him with and might enjoy some day. You almost cry at the unspoken implications of his words but when he shrugs his shoulders and hands over the credits, you quietly thank him and let the seller know that you’ll be taking it before you leave.
Over the next few hours, Mando never leaves your side once, even when you tell him that he should enjoy his time as well. You notice how he changes the subject every time you ask him to explore by himself and giggle when he responds with an opinion on some of the color combinations. It’s quite comical to be in the presence of such an intimidating individual who’s complaining about how ‘that blue doesn’t go too well with this red.’
As you’re making your way through the different caravans, you notice a table displaying a dozen large cloaks. Turning to Mando, you see that he’s busy asking one of the sellers if they have similar shirts but in darker colors. You walk to the table on the other side and look through the capes to try and differentiate between them. When you realize that it’s of no use, you hold one up and call for him to ask if he should buy a new one.
“Hey Mando, maybe you should get this instead of-”
The question dies in your throat when Mando glances away from the vendor and holds your gaze. Your brain refuses to catch up with what your eyes are seeing for what feels like an eternity and your hand flies to your chest and clench it tightly as your heart skips a beat at the sight in front of you. It takes a few seconds for you to inhale deeply when you realize that you aren’t breathing and you feel your heart skip a beat when you watch Mando strut towards you. He drops what he’s holding in his hands and takes a few strides in your way, not caring to hold back as he wraps one arm around your waist while the other rests on your neck and tilts your head so he could take a better look at you. You still can’t wrap your mind around what just happened and you’re not sure what he’s saying until he lightly shakes you in his arms and raises his voice to grab your attention.
Maker, his voice was unlike anything you’ve ever heard. It was hoarse yet calming, the kind of calming that one could only dream of feeling.
“Mesh’la, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” His voice shakes you to your core and your eyes shift down to his lips, tilting your head to the side when you follow the scruff peppering his handsome features and memorize the different colors of his hair. Gods, you couldn’t put a name to any of them but you knew you liked the combination of the light and dark outlining his sharp jaw.
“I- I don’t...maker. You’re...you’re-” You’re unable to form a coherent thought and as you reach out to touch his cheeks, Mando clenches his jaw but doesn’t dare to move a muscle. He realizes that this is the first time you see him without his helmet and he finds himself praying that you find him, at the very least, okay to look at. His hold on you eases when he feels the palm of your hand caress the side of his face before you push his hair aside. Mando nuzzles into your touch and he shuts his eyes to commit this moment to memory. The last time someone was this gentle with him broke his heart, but he found himself longing for a similar feeling with you. Only if it was you.
“N-no...please. Look at me.” Your whispered request drowns out the music of the festival and Mando’s eyes flutter open immediately. He looks down at you and can’t help but shift his focus to your parted lips as you try to speak again.
“Mando? What...what color are your eyes?” You hold your breath as Mando’s gaze softens when he meets your eyes again. He doesn’t know why you’re asking but he answers you anyway.
“Brown.” His voice breaks but then you’re smiling up at him as you reach for his cheek with your other hand and rest it on his heated skin. He’s not sure what brought about any of this but he can’t care less, not when you were here, in his arms, touching him so gently and looking at him like he was the only one that mattered across the galaxy.
“Hmm...they’re a beautiful color.” The admission sends a shiver down his spine and he doesn’t register the meaning behind your words until he sees your expression change to one of panicked shock.
Oh.
“You can see color?” Mando doesn’t intend to sound so accusative but his tone must have been harsh because you nod and snatch your hands away from him as if he’s burned you. You don’t dare look anywhere else as the reality of the situation settles in your mind.
It’s him. It’s been him all along.
“I- I can see color.”
Mando watches as you blink in confusion before you look to the side. You do a double-take when you see the vibrant colors of the festival and Mando steps away as you walk around him and approach a caravan hanging clothing of all color gradations. You ignore everything else as you softly trace the different colors and patterns on the garments before you walk over to the next little cart and stare at the vibrant jewelry. There’s so much to take in and you forget for a moment where you are. When you look away and turn your eyes to the sky, you can’t help but smile at seeing the kites gliding through the air. You don’t know which one you want to focus on because they’re all so pretty so you stand in there for a few moments to take it all in.
It’s not until you feel a presence next to you that you remember how you came to see this new world. When you begin to ring your fingers anxiously, Mando takes a step towards you and takes your hands in his palms.
“Cyar’ika, do you need anything?” He doesn’t know what to say and your lungs refuse to expand when you finally look at him again.
You spent years conjuring up different scenarios in your head to try and anticipate what to expect when you finally meet your soulmate. But standing here, in front of Mando, in the middle of the Festival of the Ancestors, you realize that this compares to nothing.
“I- I don’t…”
“If you want me to go-”
“No! N-no, please. Stay here with me. Stay here with...me.” Y
ou tighten your hold around his hands to prevent him from leaving. Mando nods and turns back to the caravan he was standing by to grab his helmet. You say nothing as he carries it and looks at you, but your eyes must give you away because Mando throws you a quick smile as he keeps it on his side and leads you through the festival.
Neither of you discuss the new development but you don’t ignore it either. You continue to steal glances from each other every now and then, especially when Mando leans over and tells you about each of the colors. Except this time, he doesn’t tell you so you could imagine what they look like. He tells you so you could memorize what each pigment is and begin to recognize them on your own. It’s almost as if nothing changed with how often Mando describes to you the gradations and patterns, but you know that this was far from the truth. And with the way Mando breathes softly against your forehead when he leans down to talk to you, you sense that he knows this as well.
He’s much more forward with his touches now, perhaps even a little shameless too. Hours ago, he would apologize if he pushed you by accident or shifted closer to you. But now, he was walking with you with one hand on your lower back and he would stand longer behind you as you asked about a new color shade.
As the sun slowly sets across the sky, you turn to Mando and wait for him to finish his drink before you ask him about the others.
“Do you mind if we don’t tell the others just yet?” You watch as Mando’s expression falls and you shake your head immediately so he doesn’t misunderstand the reason behind your request.
“Not because I don’t want them to know about us, I- maker, it’s just that I’ve experienced so many changes in the span of a few days and I want to make sense of things without...without someone asking me too many questions about what I’m feeling. I want to let this sink in? And- and I’d like it if it’s just you and me. Please.” Mando is quiet for a while and you think that maybe it was the wrong thing to say to him.
“Us?”
You can’t hold back your laughter at the soft question and you almost fall over from how hard you’re giggling at him.
“That’s what you took away from everything I just said?” You sigh in relief when he mirrors you and chuckles in return.
“I’m sorry cyar’ika, I- of course. Whatever you need from me.” He’s a man of few words but he somehow knows what to say to calm your nerves.
“Thank you Mando.” You say as you turn your attention back to the setting sun to watch the colors change across the sky.
“Din Djarin.” He whispers to you after a long while, and you meet his eyes briefly, your furrowed eyebrows silently asking him what he was referring to.
“My name is Din Djarin.” His gaze is piercing and you find it much more intense now that you know for a fact that they’re your favorite color. “So you can start calling the other guy Mando again.” Your heart skips a beat when you see dimples appear on his cheeks as he grins at his own joke, and nudges your shoulder so you could relax into him again. You say nothing and lean against his shoulder, resting your head on his beskar armor and enjoying the cold sensation against your heated skin.
You’re not sure how long the two of you sit there in your bubble and watch the festival as it continues on for, but you’re interrupted when Fett approaches you and clears his throat to catch your attention.
“We’re leaving.” The Mandalorian says as he watches you closely. You think you’re being subtle studying his armor but Fett notices how you continue to look between him and Din’s and he tilts his head to the side as he turns to his friend and barely holds back from smirking at him.
Din nods and lets them know that you would be returning with him back to Mos Eisley. Fennec is about to ask why the two of you are acting differently when Fett shakes his head as he looks at you.
“Until next time princess,” Din’s posture straightens when he hears the nickname and narrows his eyes at the man trying to get a rise out of him.
“Usenye.” You snap out of your haze when you hear Din growl at his brother and wave goodbye to him and Fennec as they walk away from you.
“Is everything okay between the two of you?”
“Yes sweet girl, don’t worry about it.” You flush at the pet name and Din notices how you shiver at his touch when he raises your chin to take a better look at you. He slowly leans towards you, never once breaking eye contact as he grows closer to your lips. “Is- is this okay?” He asks and refuses to move a muscle until you respond to him. You’re already breathless and he has barely touched you but you muster up the courage to answer him.
“Y-yes.”
He smirks when your hoarse voice fans over his cheeks and as much as you wish for him to take whatever he wants, you’re thankful that he’s being patient with you and ensuring that you’re comfortable.
“Sweet girl,” Din whispers as he finally captures your lips in a chaste kiss. It’s at this precise moment that the festivities begin to pick up but you don’t notice the fireworks filling the skies or the music growing louder. You shut your eyes and hold onto Din’s wrists as he moves against you and deepens the kiss. When you gasp at his ministrations, Din’s hold on your neck tightens and he pushes you back until you lay on the blanket he set down for you. You moan as he slips his tongue past your lips and swirls his tongue across yours. Fisting your hands into his cowl, you try to pull him closer but cry out in pain when the beskar armor digs into your hips.
“I’m- I’m sorry mesh’la. I didn’t mean to-”
“No no it’s...it’s just your armor. I promise, I- I liked this.” You gulp nervously when you see an amused expression take over his handsome features.
“Is that so?” You don’t have time to react to his question, squealing in surprise when he suddenly stands up and pulls you along with him.
“What- where are we going?” You ask him as he pulls you through the multitude of visitors and Aki-Aki. He stops abruptly and speaks to one of the natives before he pushes you into the caravan standing behind him.
“Din, we can’t just-”
“I asked for his permission. Don’t you know, all of these are for visitors who want to stay the night.” You’re about to ask him why you’re staying the night out here instead of his ship but you can’t seem to form the question because you see Din taking his armor off.
It’s mesmerizing watching him take each beskar piece apart but when he’s down to just his clothes, it occurs to you that this night might be going somewhere else. Your nervousness must show on your face because Din walks towards you slowly and takes your hands in his. He kisses your wrists before leans over and rests his forehead against yours.
“Don’t worry cyar’ika, I’m not… I won’t- we’re not here to do anything other than talk. I didn’t feel comfortable taking my beskar off out there so-”
“I trust you Din.” You interrupt his word-vomit and lead him to one of the corners of the tent so you could lay down next to each other. When you rest your head on the pillow and finally look up, you’re met with a small opening in the ceiling of the caravan that gives you a perfect view of the blue night sky lighting up with fireworks.
When Din finally seats himself next to you, you whine in irritation and pull him down until he’s on his back next to you. Din never once lets go of your hand and he occasionally raises the palm of your hand to his lips to kiss across the skin.
“Can I ask you something?” You don’t look away from the fireworks when you speak, not wanting to miss seeing any of the vibrant shades of reds and yellows as they broke through the clouds.
“Anything sweet girl.”
“Why did you take off your helmet? I thought your Creed prevented you from showing your face.” You hope the question isn’t too insensitive or private, and when Din takes longer than you like to respond, you finally turn to him to apologize. But Din cuts you off before you can even say anything, keeping his focus on your wrist to distract him long enough so he could respond.
“I had a son once, well, he wasn’t mine physically but, he was mine. He was a foundling by Creed and I was tasked with bringing him back to his kind. It’s a long story that I could tell you another time but...when I had to give him up, I couldn’t bear the thought of him never seeing me without the helmet. I needed him to see me, to know what I willingly gave up and what I had to do to ensure his safety. I’d taken off my helmet once before and even thought it was my choice, I didn’t want to. But in that moment, before I watched him go, I decided that he was more important than my Creed. He was...he was everything to me. And it took a long time to realize that personal connections and relationships weren’t a weakness, they were a strength. My strength.” You’re not sure when you turned to your side and nuzzled into his embrace. But you couldn’t focus on anything else but him and the way his eyes twinkled in sadness when he mentioned his kid. It was a shocking admission and you never once thought of him in such a role but looking back at the last few days, you didn’t find it impossible. He was kind, quiet, sweet, adn patient.
“I keep my helmet on almost all the time but I only take it off around people I trust. I’m telling you this because- because I trust you. I trust you cyar’ika. I took it off earlier today because I wanted you to see me...and also because I was trying to pick out a gift for you. I figured if I didn’t preface it with anything that it would be less dramatic but- little did I know.” The indirect mention of the not-so-little change you experienced earlier today makes you smile.
“If I knew you needed to look into my eyes for you to see color, I would have taken off the helmet the first time I saw you.” He trails his nose across your cheek before he kisses your eyes and your forehead, smiling down at you when he sees how relaxed you feel in his arms.
“It wouldn’t have mattered.” Your response surprises him and he pulls away and looks at you quizzically.
“I- I saw you before my eyes saw you, Din. My heart chose you before my soul did. I...I think I knew when I saw you again…I think a part of me knew that you were it for me and that it didn’t matter if I didn’t see color with you because- because you were...you’re perfect.” You feel a weight lift off of your chest when you finally confess to him what you’ve been feeling for the past few days and you shift impossibly closer to him to let him know that you were telling the truth.
“I’m not perfect mesh’la.” His laugh is self-deprecating and he only stops when he feels your hand slip around his back and hold onto his shirt like your life depended on it.
“You are to me.” It’s perhaps too forward for him and Din doesn’t know how to react or respond to your confession so he nods at you and nuzzles into your neck to avoid any more of your intense emotions.
“You haven’t told me yet what your favorite color is.” He tries to change the topic, not expecting your response to shoot through his chest and into his heart like a blaster.
“Brown obviously.” You answer instantly and without hesitation.
“Why ‘obviously’?”
“Well, it’s-it’s your eye-color Din. What other color could be my favorite?”
His heart ceases to beat at your adamant reply and he pulls away again to look into your eyes to see if you were teasing him. Instead, he finds something swimming in your eyes that would have terrified his soul had he met you years ago.
“Ner kar’ta,” Din moans into your ear as he rests up on his elbow before molding his lips with yours again. You don't know what any of the Mando’a means but you have a pretty good idea of what he’s trying to convey in that moment and you wrap your arms around his neck and bring him closer to you. When he lays back down and pulls you into his side, you can’t help but take one last look at the night sky, finding the stars shimmering behind the multitude of fireworks. You watch the different colors blend with each other, and you almost cry when you see the yellows and greens and blues mixing so beautifully together to create new gradients across the galaxy.
But none of them compared to the color of Din’s eyes. And you go to sleep dreaming of the moment those kind, dark, brown orbs captured your soul and whispered affections into your heart.
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Translations
Mesh’la - beautiful Cyar’ika - beloved/darling Ad’ika - little one Usenye - go away Ner kar’ta - my heart
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Pedro Pascal (and any of his characters):
@pastel-0-princess @feelmyroarrrr @libbymouse @its--fandom--darling @spideysimpossiblegirl @princess76179 @cheekygeek05 @miraclesoflove @purple-mango @freeshavocadoooo @metalarmsandmanbuns @acthenerd @greeneyedblondie44 @cannedsoupsucks @purplepascal042 @talesfromtheguild @f0rever15elf @vibin-hippie @onesmokinbabe @leaiorganas @words-way-of-life @kideyz @lovesickmadsadpoet @niall7inches @rosiefridayrogersunday @tati-adventures @sleep-tight1 @itsfreeekinbats @cybergroupie @vibin-hippie @marsplsstop @mouthymandalorian @diogodxlot @janebby @juletheghoul
Din Djarin: @a--1--1--3 @tanzthompson
392 notes · View notes
cjsinkythoughts · 4 years ago
Text
FATWS One Shot #2 - The Beginning of a Family
Word Count: 1804
Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Human Trafficking (once, it was a mission Reader did), Minor Character Injury
Setting/Characters: The first half-ish of The Avengers in 2012; Reader, Steve Rogers, Nick Fury, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, Mentions of Loki, Phil Coulson, and Clint Barton, OC!Agent Anderson
A/N: Here’s One Shot Number 2! I was thinking of making it longer and adding the actual Battle of Manhattan, but I dunno if I’m gonna do that. I just wanted these to be One Shots of first meetings and other smaller events. I didn’t want to do scene-for-scene two parters. If you want me to, I can, I don’t mind doing it, I just wasn’t planning on it. I’ve kinda been slacking today, which is why I haven’t cranked out more than this one, but I’ll see if I can finish one more for tonight. Tomorrow’s another late night for me at work, BUT! Tomorrow night FATWS comes out! So I will be doing the next Episode! I also don’t have Friday off this week, so the Parts might bleed into Saturday, but they will come this weekend!
Reminder that this has nothing to do with FATWS the show, but I don’t have a title for my FATWS Series, which is what these are based off of, so this is what they’re called for now! If you have any ideas for names, feel free to send them in! I’m just too lazy to come up with something clever for the whole Series.
Thank you so much for reading! As always, not beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Be kind to yourselves and others! Stay tuned and enjoy!
FATWS Masterlist
cjsinkythoughts Masterlist
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You were exhausted, coming back from an assignment that lasted a little over two months. It’d been your first one since you were assigned to help Steve adjust, and you were guessing they’d keep you on desk duty for a few months before sending you back out again. Which frustrated you to no end.
But then you got back your personal cell phone from a fellow agent and, seeing you had a few  voicemails - which you never had - you flipped it on.
“Hi, Y/N.” Your lips turned up at the man you started growing close to over the past year. “I-I know you’re on a mission right now. I mean, you just left last week. Anyways, I just…I hope you’re doin’ okay. You probably won’t get this until later, but…still. I hope you’re safe. I, uh, I got that book. The one you were joking about me getting. The U.S. History for Dummies one. It goes farther back than I need to know, but I still read all of it. It helped. I wish you were here though. But I know you’re working. And that’s important. Um… I guess I’ll see you in a few months.”
The phone beeped before the next message played. “I took your advice. I got a sketchbook and some other stuff. There’s a ton of new supplies. I’m kinda excited to try them out. Maybe they’re not new but they’re more accessible now than they used to be. And I found a gym. In Brooklyn. It’s kinda run down - a hole in the wall type place - but they don’t do memberships and they don’t care how long you stay as long as you pay for your time. So that’s nice. I guess. Anyways…hi. I don’t think I said that earlier. It’s Steve, by the way. But you probably guessed that. Um…that’s all. I just wanted to let you know. Stay safe, honey. Abbyssinia.”
You listened to the next couple ones, all along the same lines. Steve telling you about his day; about the dog he was allowed to pet on his run or the different coffee he tried this morning at your previous suggestion. You snickered a little, shaking your head. You would never guessed that Hitler hitting, Nazi punching Captain America was so…soft. Cute.
His last voicemail was from earlier that morning, and it made her brow furrow. “Hey, honey. I, uh…God, I really wish you were here. I was told you’d be getting back last week, but then they said it might be another couple weeks because something happened? I hope nothing happened. Please be okay. I’ve really missed you. I know it’s only been a year, but…you’re the only familiar thing I have right now. I guess Fury was right to choose you since you were the first person I saw. There’s a, uh, problem. Fury’s got a mission for me. Some guy named Loki stole the Tesseract. Which was HYDRA’s secret weapon. That blue cube thing. I was just getting used to laptops and fast food and this…it’s just a lot. Overwhelming. You were always good at making things less intimidating. I’ve gotta go. Some SHIELD personnel are picking me up now. We’re going to…somewhere. I’m sure you would know, but they haven’t exactly told me. Hoping to see you soon, Y/N. Please be safe.”
You frowned at the information, looking up at one of your fellow agents, Anderson. “Hey.” He turned his head towards you from his conversation with the copilot. “Is something going on at HQ?”
“The Helicarrier.” Anderson corrected. “Fury just called it in. Something with the Tesseract. And some guy’s mind controlling people. He’s got Barton, apparently. The director is bringing a few people on board; Banner, Stark, Romanoff. Rogers, too, I heard. He wants you to be there ASAP, so we’re going there now.”
Letting out a sigh, you rubbed your eyes and nodded. “Alright. Let’s go see what’s going on.”
*************************
Fury met you as you walked off the jet, lugging your duffle bag over your shoulder. You were still in your clothes from the mission; a human trafficking ring in Guam. Dirty, torn up jeans along with a white tank top hugging your torso and a flannel, unbuttoned, over your shoulders. One of your sneakers had a hole in it, too, and you were walking with a slight limp from the dislocated kneecap you got a few days prior.
“Agent.” He nodded in greeting, passing you a file. “The others are waiting. We just brought in Loki.”
You chewed your cheek, narrowing your eyes as you scanned the information in the file. It had personal files of the others, but you didn’t need to look through those. You knew Natasha very well, considering she taught you half the things you know, along with Barton. You knew Stark - of course you did - especially after you helped set Natasha up to be his secretary a while back. Banner you were also knowledgeable about, seeing as you went undercover to find him when he first took off and had been part of the tracking team on him ever since. Thor you had learned about after his fiasco in New Mexico from Coulson. And, last but certainly not least, Steve Rogers, who you knew better than any file could explain.
“Walk me through this; Thor and Loki are the real Thor and Loki? Like, from Norse myths?”
“Apparently so. You know about the New Mexico incident with the two last year, don’t you?”
You nodded, pinching your lips together tightly. “Well, yeah, but I thought…I dunno. I guess it just didn’t click. So,” you tucked the file under your arm securely, raising an eyebrow at Fury. “We’re fighting a god? An actual god?”
“With an army of aliens.” He confirmed.
“Wonderful.” You huffed as the two of you turned a corner, making your way onto the bridge, just in time to hear Stark talking to Banner about him turning into the Hulk.
“Dr. Banner is only here to track the cube.” Fury butted in. You crossed your arms behind Fury, leaning on your good leg. “I was hoping you might join him. Before you do, this is-” 
“Y/N! You’re back!”
You shot a grin to the blonde, who perked up upon seeing you. “Hi, Steve. Just in time, too, huh.” You nudged Natasha slightly. “Hey, Nat. Sorry about Clint.”
She shrugged. “I’m just glad you’re here to help.”
“I’m sorry.” You looked over to find Banner frowning contemplatively at you. “Do I know you?”
You opened your mouth to answer, but Fury beat you to it. “Formalities later. Y/L/N, we’ll bring you up to speed-”
“I’ll get there, sir. How are you boys planning on tracking down the Tesseract?” You questioned, nodding in the two geniuses’ direction.
“I’d start with that stick of his.” Steve suggested, turning to look at the duo as well. “It may be magical but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon.”
“I don’t know about that, but it is powered by the Cube.” Fury stated. “And I’d like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys.”
A tall, broad as hell blonde looked at Fury, confused. “Monkeys? I do not understand-”
“I do!” Steve jumped in, pointing at Thor, before leaning back in his seat at the silence that came after his exclamation. “I-I understood that reference.”
You chuckled and shook your head, winking at Steve when he smiled bashfully at you. As the two scientists - was Stark a scientist? - started heading out, Steve hopped up, padding over to you.
“You’re back early.”
“Late, technically.” You shrugged, letting him pull you in for a hug, your hand rubbing his back. “I got your calls.”
He pulled away, his ears turning red. “Oh, yeah. I, uhm-”
You sniggered. “It’s fine, Steve. You can call me whenever you need to. I’m just sorry I couldn’t answer you sooner.”
“You were working.” He shrugged half heartedly. “Did it go okay? Are you okay?”
“Yes, Steven. I’m fine.” You rolled your eyes just as a yawn threatened to escape your lips. “If not a little tired.” You tapped on the star against his chest. “Nice suit, by the way.”
“Ha ha.” He grinned, eyeing your own clothing. “You’re matching me.” He tugged on the red, white, and blue flannel hanging from your arms. “You also look like shit.”
You snorted. “Wow. What a gentleman. Let’s get this whole Loki situation over with so I can go to bed, yeah?”
He chuckled a little with a nod. “Sounds like a plan, honey.” The two of you started out of the bridge. “You should shower first, though.”
“You’re a bully, you know that?”
“I’m just sayin’!”
“I’m just sayin’!” You mocked with a huff. “Leave me be, Rogers.”
His laughter was cut short, making you look over at him curiously, only to find his slitted eyes studying your movements. “Why are you limping?”
“Relax, Captain. I just dislocated my knee. It’s fine. Shit happens on missions, you know that.”
“Is that why you came back late?”
Shaking your head, you lead him to one of the private rooms the Helicarrier had so you could shower and change. “No. I just needed a little more time. That’s all. Now let’s focus on the problem at hand. We can talk more later.”
He hesitated, leaning against the doorway and watching you set your bag on the small cot.  “Okay. As long as you’re alright.”
Your heart jumped a bit at the concern laced in his tone, the apprehension in those blue eyes - which you found out had some green in them - making your breath hitch slightly. “I am.” You spoke softly with a firm nod of your head, trying to assure him and his worries. “I promise.”
“I’m gonna go check on Banner and Stark, then. Come find me when you’re done.”
You cleared your throat to recover yourself, throwing him a cheeky grin. “Aye, aye, Captain.”
He rolled his eyes with a smile, before turning and walking out, leaving you alone and confused.
What was that? You’d never had that reaction to anything. Your heart doesn’t race whenever someone walks in the room. Not like it did with him. What the hell did that even mean?
You shook your head, clearing your throats. You didn’t have time to dwell on that now. You doubted it was anything more than a fluke. You were just tired and seeing someone familiar, who was genuinely excited to see you was like a breath of fresh air after your operation. That’s all. Yeah.
With that decided, you headed to the shower, head spinning with new thoughts of this problem with the God of Mischief and that stupid blue cube.
All Works Taglist (Open):
@happygoreading​ @bibliophilewednesday​
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mackeydoodledoo · 3 years ago
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A Real Hero
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Pairing: Daniela Dimitrescu x (Fem!Daughter of Ares)Reader
Summary: You were lost. You needed to fend for yourself. You were the runt of Ares’ kids. Yes, the god of war himself had told you that you were the runt of the pack, making you fall behind everyone else. However, meeting a certain red-head has you making other plans.
Warnings: Fighting, Small amount of Blood, Supposed Death
A/n: So, I’m Poseidon’s kid... But, I may or may not have a idea for a daughter of Poseidon to be paired with one of the other two daughters. 
“Supermassive Black Hole” - Muse [Play this when Joan splits off with Daniela to go hunting]
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You had nowhere to go. You were shunned out by your brothers and sisters. Even your own father. You were the runt of the children of Ares. Meaning, you were the weakest link. Your own father had dropped you off at the same very forest. Haven’t heard from him, your mother or your siblings since.
Come on Joan... You got this...
You were exhausted. The glistening sweat rolled off your now toned arms as you were practicing your sword play skills. The tree however, wasn't so lucky. All of its peeled bark, all of its scars. Came from you. It looked like it was on the brink of death.
“Not so tough now are you?” You try to stupidly intimidate the nearly dead tree
God you sound stupid right now...
You take one heavy slash to the tree; it begins tumbling down. However, just as you about to chop it further, you hear a scream. Panic sets in as you immediately grab hold of the tree stump. You initially struggle to keep the other end of the tree’s weight. However, You shove it to the side, groaning in pain, clutching at your shoulder.
“Are you okay?” You ask, running over to the woman who screamed
Just barely grazing her shoulder with your finger, you wince in pain.
“Am I okay?!” She asks, turning to look at you, “Are you okay?! You’re the one who- oh my god...”
The other woman was in shock, but also intrigued. 
She looks down at your finger; blood... But, it wasn’t the crimson shade kind of blood. What was seeping out of your finger was a thick and Silver colored.
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“How is your blood like that?” She asks, observing your finger like a gentle specimen
“It’s always been like this,” You chuckle
“Does it actually taste like blood?!” She asks
You look at her; her eyes dilated with curiosity. You look down at your feet, trying to come up with the best answer for her.
“How am I supposed to know?” You ask her, “I’ve never been one to taste my own blood.”
“Then let me be the first one,” She says, her tone dropping to a low, seductive tone
“Hey! What are you-” You protest
But it was too late. The tip of her tongue had ran right over the small prick in your finger. Your eyes widen as she begins gagging.
“Oh that was vile!” She wretches
“I tried warning you to not do that,” You chuckle, “But, did you listen?”
She punches your shoulder as she continues to gag out the contents of your blood.
“But for real though, how did you do that?” She asks
“Do.. What?” You ask her
“The... The.. You picked up a whole damn tree!” She exclaims, “No mortal could do that!” 
“That’s because I’m.. Not fully mortal...” Your voice trails off
“You’re... Not?” She asks, her eyes widening once more
“Demigod.. To be precise..” You begin explaining, “It’s when an immortal falls in love with a mortal... And they have kids... Kids like me.”
The woman doesn’t answer you...
Great... She’s freaked out...
“So... Let me get this straight... You’re... Half immortal?” She asks
Girl’s clueless...
“Technically.. Yes,” You answer her
“Wait until mother and my sisters hear when I bring you home,” She wickedly smiles
Wait.. What?...
When you opened your eyes you no longer found yourself basking in the sunshine.
“Just check her blood! She really is half immortal!” The familiar voice 
“Daniela, quit your games,” Another feminine voice calls to the sole familiar voice
“What is the meaning of this?” An older, robust yet soothing feminine voice walks in
“Daniela claims that she’s found a half immortal,” Another feminine voice says, but more hungrier than the other three
“But mother it’s true!” Daniela claims, “Look at her blood!” 
“Enough... Daniela,” The older woman sighs
By the time the arguing had died down, your fingers held your temples as you groaned in pain.
“Half-immortal,” The older woman calls to you
“Ow... What?” You look up
You had to adjust your neck in a slightly uncomfortable position as you stare straight up into the most giantess woman you have ever encountered.
“Tell me child...” She starts, “What is your name?”
“Joan...” You answer, “Joan Arc...”
“Are you truly half immortal?” She asks
“I am...” You say without a second thought
“Then prove it,” The blonde demands
“Now now Bela,” The older woman calms her blonde daughter, “But that you shall do for us.”
“What happens if I refuse?” You ask, standing on your two feet
“We’ll feed your scraps to the pigs,” The brunette growls 
“Cassandra enough!” Daniela demands, grabbing her sisters’ wrist
Cassandra turns to the red head and begins growling at her like a primal animal. You were about to step in before you see the older woman beginning to raise her hand.
“Cassandra... Daniela,” She sighs, “On this evening’s hunt she will accompany the three of you. Cassandra...”
The brunette straightens herself out when the woman called her name. 
“Do show her the armory for this evening,” She gently commands
“Of course mother,” She answers, “Half and half.”
Cassandra turns to you.
Great... A nickname already...
“You coming or not?” She asks
You walk towards her as you felt claw-like fingernails dig into your skin as you are bragged out of what looked to be the bedchambers. You catch a glimpse of Daniela; the woman you had saved from earlier in the day. You give her a small smile before Cassandra rounds the corner, knocking you into the doorframe.
“Come on,” Cassandra growls
“So... Half and half,” Cassandra teases at your nickname, taking a gaze at the weapons in the armory room
“It’s Joan,” You correct her coldly
“What brought you to our castle grounds anyway?” She asks, completely ignoring your correction
“Actually your sister... Daniela brought me here against my will so...” You joke, but also tell the truth
“She doesn’t know when to stop bringing toys into the castle,” Cassandra sighs
Toys?... Is she for real?...
“I was cast off, unwanted by my own father,” You explain, “I was the weakest of his kids... All of my siblings had their backs turned to me when I was casted out of the cabin...”
“That’s rough...” Cassandra sighs
You weren’t sure if Cassandra was continuing to mock you or she actually felt bad about your situation.
“Anyway though, I’m kind of happy that I’m out of there,” You add, “My siblings were a bunch of assholes anyway.”
“I could say the same for my sisters... We’re always trying to out-best each other to please mother... It’s getting tiring honestly.” She sighs
“Then don’t do it to please your mother,” You say, grabbing a sword off of the weapons rack, “Do it so it makes you happy.”
With your back turned to Cassandra, you begin putting your hair up to a ponytail.
“What’s that?” She asks
“What’s what?” You ask
“The thing on the back of your neck,” Cassandra helps, “What is it?”
My birthmark... Well, just a mark...
“The Mark of Ares,” You answer, “All the children of Ares have this specific mark.”
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[A/n: Not much but I tried lol]
You nod, “Not the glamorous life as a god though.”
“So you really are half and half huh?” Cassandra continues asking
After grabbing a couple of armor plates, you arm yourself with a sword and a spear. You follow Cassandra back to the main hall where the other three women were waiting for the both of you. 
“All set?” The tall woman asks
“Yes mother,” Cassandra says
You simply nod as you follow them out to what looked like horse stables. However, you only see enough for the four of them.
Great... Will I have to be the one running on foot?
“Joan,” Daniela calls, horse already galloped in front of you
She simply holds out her hand for you to grab. You let out a smile as you take her hand. You were astonished by the amount of strength Daniela had when she pulled you up onto the back of her horse. 
“Strong,” You smile, resting your palms on her curved hipline
“You better hold on tight,” Daniela flirts
As soon as the stable doors opened fully, Daniela slams the reigns on her horse and the horse bolts past the other three. You let out a startled yelp as Daniela’s horse bursts out of the stables and out into the familiar warmth. You hold onto Daniela for dear life; your head against the back of her neck as you hear her giggling.
“The half immortal is scared of a horse ride?” Daniela teases you
“Caught me off guard is all,” You gently chuckle
Daniela continues to giggle as you ease your grip on her slightly. You look over your shoulder and see the other three horses following behind, slowly gaining to where you and Daniela were. You looked along the tree line to see the sunset beginning to dwindle down below the horizon.
“Why hunt at night?” You ask
“It’s too stuffy during the day,” Daniela explains to you, “It’s tolerable... For a certain amount of time.”
You stop at a river that was relatively near the castle for the horses to rest and hydrate as the four of you begin to tread through the woods to go hunting. 
“Why don’t the both of you go hunt on your own, go teach Daniela some hunting techniques would you?” Bela suggests
“Hey!” Daniela yelps, “I can hunt well on my own thank you very much.”
“I’d certainly could ask Artemis to give Daniela some hunting lessons but who the hell knows where she is,” You explain, “Come on Dani.”
Daniela takes you by the wrist and yanks you close to her as the both of you begin walking along the forest trees in hopes to get any kills before dawn arrives.
“Have you.. Actually hunted before?” Daniela asks
“After months of fending for my own,” You say, “Mostly spear-fishing... Spear is normally my main weapon but if I want to go more rough n tough, a sword.”
“Shouldn’t the half immortals be expertise in various weapons?” Daniela teases you
“A lot of Demigods would have their specified weapons,” You say, “Watch and learn baby.”
You roll up your pant legs and your sleeves. You strip off your shoes and slowly begin stepping into the ice-cold riverbank. further to your right was a giant waterfall. You could hear the loud running water go over the edge of the drop.
“If I only had Night vision,” You sigh 
“On your right,” Daniela calls out to you
You immediately spear to your right. Once you had lifted the spear, you had sworn the spear had gained more top end weight.
“How did you?...” You turn to Daniela
“I mostly go hunting at night,” Daniela smiles, “So my eyesight works best during the night.”
“That’s good to have,” You smile
You and Daniela continue spear-fishing as the night progresses through. 
“Have you caught a bear before?” Daniela asks
“No,” You say
“Why don’t we go and catch one?” Daniela suggests
“Well, how would you do it Daniela?” You ask her
“Why are you asking me?” Daniela asks
“Because one, you’re the one suggesting it and two, why don’t you lead a hunt for once,” You smile
Daniela looks at you as you emerge from the riverbank and begin making a makeshift basket to place all of the fish in. 
“You sure know how to craft,” Daniela just simply watches you make
“A lot of things were learned while living on my own out here,” You smile as you look up at her
You stop weaving the basket when Daniela is just kneeling in front of you. 
“You okay Daniela?” You ask her, clearing your throat
“I’m okay,” She answers, inching her way closer to you, “You?”
“I’m fine,” You answer, a bubble caught in your throat, “What-what are you doing right now?” 
“I... Like you..” Daniela says
“Daniela!” You yell
You coil an arm around her waist line as you try to get up but you tumble forward. You look up and see a bear letting out a roar. With your spear crushed under the bears’ foot, you draw your sword and begin swinging, in hopes of it being scared and runs off. However, you stop once it began growling. 
“Joan!” Daniela yells
You felt your body land onto the ground as the sword is knocked from your grip. You immediately prop yourself on your elbows and turn your head.
“Daniela!” You yell to her
Like Hell I’m about to lose her....
Your legs suddenly spring upward, pivoting as fast as they could. You break into a run as the bear begins to stand on its hind legs. You didn’t even think to take your weapon back into your hand as you use your body to slam yourself into the bear.
“Hey!” You call to Daniela
She looks at you.
“I... Like you too,” You smile
“Joan... Joan!!” Daniela screams
As quick as Daniela could, she scampers up to her feet and dives after you, only to come a hare too late. You and the bear had plummeted towards the sharp-rocked bottom of the waterfall.
“JOAN!!!!” Daniela banshee screams as she watches you both and the bear disappear into the misty waters below
“Daniela?!” Alcina calls out
Alcina, Cassandra and Bela emerge from the tree line, beelining it to her. Alcina pulls her youngest daughter into her arms as Daniela lets out wailing sobs.
“We were trying to hunt a bear and- and- I almost got killed but-” Daniela chokes on her sobs, “Joan went over the edge protecting me.. With- with the bear...” 
“I’m sorry my daughter,” Alcina sighs, “The hunt is over. Back to the castle. Now.”
“But-But Joan is still down there!” Daniela begs her mother
“No one survives that drop,” Alcina states, “Not even a half immortal like Joan. We have to go now.”
Daniela doesn’t argue with her mother. She follows her mother and sisters back to their horses to take back to the castle stables. 
I’m sorry Joan...
Night was slowly dissipating as Daniela lay across her bed, crying to herself. She didn’t care about how bad she smelled from the outside world. She was upset at herself for not catching you in time just before you plummeted to your death.
“Daniela?” Bela calls out
“What Bela?...” Daniela wipes away her tears 
“Someone’s in the main hall with Cassandra,” Bela says, less enthusiastic
Daniela dissipates into flies as well as Bela. Daniela follows her sister and as soon as Bela busts the doors open, Daniela felt her heart throb.
“Joan?...” Daniela calls out, materializing into her human form
“Finally,” Cassandra sighs as she pushes your batters and bloodied body towards Daniela
Daniela catches your almost limp body. But, you manage with all of your strength you had left, you wrap your arms around Daniela's neck as she struggles to keep you on your feet.
"I thought you were..." Daniela says
"Dead?" You finish her sentence
Daniela takes you to her bedchambers and begins stripping away whatever was left of the armor and your ripped clothing.
"Ow..." You groan
"Do you... Remember what happened after you plummeted down the waterfall?" Daniela asks
"Well, what I do remember is that the bear wasn't anywhere to be found by the time I had come to. I was bleeding a lot. But, obviously being a Demigod, my slow regeneration process began. But. Took me forever though. Everything still hurts like hell..." You sigh
You lowly gasp as you felt Daniela's long, cold fingers caress your body as she applies the bandages.
"I'm sorry," She whimpers
"It's okay. You're just really cold..." You sigh, smiling
You could feel Daniela's eyes on you as she moved directly behind you. You could feel the tension between the both of you.
"I meant what I said too," You say
You feel her fingers begin coiling around your ribcage and her head resting on your shoulder.
"I know," She whispers into your ear
You sweep your arm underneath Daniela and pull her into your lap.
"Joan!..." Daniela gasps
It doesn't take Daniela long to settle herself in your lap as her wicked smile sweeps across her face.
"Awwww you're blushing," Daniela coos
"Shut up..." You growl playfully
"Well then maybe you should make me," She smirks, her wicked giggle coming out
[A/n: Here is a character board for Joan Arc]
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spaceorphan18 · 3 years ago
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Head Over Feet (1/14)
After Kurt and Blaine broke up the second time, they went their separate ways, living their separate lives in New York City. Fifteen years later, a retirement party brings them back together into each other's orbit, with surprising, for both of them, consequences. Are they able to fit each other into their already complicated and messy lives? And are these newfound feelings real? Or just echoes of a past relationship?
Canon Divergent after Season 5.
Ao3 Link
A/N: Yes, I know I have a bunch of other WIPs - and I am still working on all of them! But I’ve been so excited about this one, I just want to get it out there... 
Thanks to @snarkyhag for the beta. :) 
***
Chapter 1: Loser Like Me (Part One) 
Fall 2028
Blaine is dreaming.  It’s all fuzzy, but there are hands… familiar hands that are on him clasping his own, cupping his face, trailing down, down, down to where it feels good.  He begins to feel the warmth spread throughout his body.  He feels good, so good… Lips are against his, rough and hungry, he is enveloped in want, in need… He lets out a groan, letting the pleasure overtake him.  He reaches out, desperate for more, but as he does so, that good feeling starts to float away.  He makes a grasp for it, but it’s no longer there, and he is left cold and wanting more.  
And then his alarm goes off.  
Blaine wakes up hard as a rock.  He can’t remember the last time he had a dream about sex.  Maybe when he had been a teenager? Or possibly college?  But he doesn’t remember any of those dreams ending him with his dick actually aching to fuck something.  
He stares at the ceiling for a good long moment, thinking the urgency will eventually wear off.  He turns his head, slightly, to see the outline of his husband on the other side of the bed.  He doesn’t bother to wake Sean -- not that morning sex had ever been a part of their marriage.  They’re on opposite schedules; the show Sean is doing the costumes for is in the middle of its workshop, and if it gets picked up by a good producer, it could mean big things.  And Sean is cranky in the morning, anyway.  
Blaine can just as easily take care of himself.
He gets up, slowly.  The erection still hasn’t died down, and Blaine begins to wonder if this is even normal for someone his age.  Maybe he should call a doctor.  He laughs to himself.  Or maybe he should jack off and not worry about it.  
He moves off the bed, having to go around it to get to the bathroom.  In the process, he has to step over a huge pile of Sean’s clothes.  Blaine takes a moment to pick them up, and throw them into the laundry basket.  Two seconds, it takes.  Is that really so hard?  
The clothes also smell like booze and cigarettes, which means Sean has been staying out late with the company again.  It’s fine, they used to both go all the time to the afterparties and the clubs, but some time after Blaine hit thirty, he didn’t find them as enticing any more.  Something about feeling almost twice as old as everyone around him killed the spirit.
Blaine gets into the bathroom, turning on the light, and easily stripping out of the boxers that he wears to bed.  His dick is still throbbing to be touched, so he gives himself a few hardy strokes before turning on the water for a shower.  It’s weird, he thinks, as he gets in.  Sex used to be the a staple of his marriage but, as the years passed, he and Sean manage once a week if they’re lucky.  He hasn’t really missed it, or maybe he hasn’t noticed he missed it.  Because getting off with just his hand doesn’t normally feel so good.  
He indulges a little, thinking about that dream, and those hands on him.  Letting someone else take over, take control, take him apart.  He thinks, at first, of Sean, pulling from the catalogue of their sex life.  Sean being the one to hold him, and stroke him, and suck him down.  But as much as he tries to concentrate on his husband, the scene keeps pulling away, and there’s someone else there -- a faceless man with deft hands who knows exactly how Blaine likes to be touched.  
He speeds up his hand, and yet somehow it doesn’t feel like enough.  He braces himself against the tile of the bathroom wall, fucking furiously into his hand until his hips take on a life of their own.   Eventually he comes, jolting hard into his hand.  The orgasm tears through him, and he lets out a near scream that he hopes doesn’t wake Sean.  
It takes a moment to come down, and he leans against the tiles, enjoying the blissed out feeling as the hot water sprays over him.  He’s not sure what had brought all that on but he does feel more relaxed.  He’s been too pent up lately.  Maybe he does need to start seeing his therapist again…
***
On Wednesdays, Blaine only teaches one class and he is back home by noon in time, usually, to make himself lunch before heading out to do afternoon errands (or stay in and grade papers).  Before the workshop started, he and Sean would usually make Wednesday nights their together time.  But those have faded away over the past year or so.  Blaine has gotten used to spending the evenings alone, to the point that when Blaine arrives back at the apartment that afternoon, he’s startled to see Sean there making himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.  
Sean stands against the counter, chewing the sandwich slowly as he watches Blaine put his bag and coat on one of the kitchen table chairs.   “You okay?” Sean asks, taking another bite.  A bit of crust lands in his red beard, and he brushes it off and onto the floor.  Blaine shakes his head, now he understands why the floor is always so filthy.  “You’re looking at me as if I’m a stranger in the house.”
“No, it’s fine,” Blaine says.  Maybe it’s not.  It feels, weirdly, like an intrusion on his private time, but the thought is laughable.  His husband is home -- he should be happy.  Blaine begins to rifle through the fridge, pulling out a container of tuna fish to have for lunch.  They could eat together, at the table, like civilized people.  “What happened with the workshop?”
“Remember me telling you about Ashleigh and Karyn and their obsessive ambition to be the first to win a Tony? Or whatever the fuck they’re actually looking for.”
“Yes.” No? Maybe? He can’t keep all of the cast members of Sean’s show straight.  But Blaine doesn’t really feel like listening to a who’s who tangent.  He finishes making the sandwich as Sean explains further.  
“Well, I don’t know how it started, but I know how it ended -- with the both of them in the hospital,” Sean says.  “So with both the lead and the understudy out, the workshop is on hold for a little while.”
“Wait, who was the lead again?” Blaine asks.  Sandwich made, he grabs some chips from the pantry and a bottle of water and heads to the kitchen table.  Sean follows him, leaving his now empty plate on the counter, before taking his usual seat across from Blaine.  
“Karyn,” Sean says, stealing some chips from Blaine’s bag.  “The blonde.”
“Right.”
“So, I guess you have me home for a while.”
Blaine plasters an immediate smile to his face.  He’s not entirely sure how to feel, though.  “Are you still getting paid?”
“Yeah,” Sean grabs more chips.  “Marv’s gotta girl lined up in case it takes longer.  Shouldn’t be more than a week.”  
“Ah.”  
Sean taps his fingers on the table.  Blaine sips from his water bottle.  There’s a siren outside somewhere, and the upstairs neighbor’s dog sprints back and forth, causing the ceiling to creek.  
“I paid the water bill,” Sean says after a long moment.  
“Great,” Blaine says.  “I still say we should get reimbursed for the neighbors tapping into our pipes.”  
“I’ll talk to Greg about it.”
“Great.”
Blaine eats his sandwich in a strange sort of silence as Sean watches him.  He feels like they should talk about something.  What do they usually talk about these days? Work? The apartment? The new musical mini-series Netflix put out?  Sean doesn’t ask how Blaine’s class went.  Blaine doesn’t offer to talk about it.  Nothing really feels like a good conversation.  
Which is why Blaine decides to mention it… “So, I had the weirdest dream last night.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, it was some kind of sex dream,” Blaine says, licking the tuna from his fingers.  “I woke up hard as fuck.”
Sean gives a smirk.  “I can’t tell if this is your way of telling me you want to fool around tonight, or if you’re concerned and want to see a doctor.”  
Blaine laughs into his water.  “I decided I’m too young still to have dick problems, and jacked off in the shower.”  
Sean’s eyes go wide with amusement.  “Shame I missed that show.  If you’re still feeling it, we can mess around after lunch if you want.”
Blaine gives an unenthused shrug.  “I’ve got some errands to run.  Then I’m having dinner with Santana tonight, but if you want to catch the late show, it can be arranged.”  
“We’ll see,” Sean says.  “I told some of the guys I’d meet them out for drinks tonight.  There’s a new bar opening over in SoHo.”
A flash of irritation runs through Blaine.  It’s not the turning down of sex that bothers him.  He really doesn’t want to spend his evening at a bar in SoHo.  He really doesn’t want to spend the evening with Sean’s questionable friends ‘Way-Too-Flirty’ Don and ‘Drinks-Too-Much’ Steve.  He doesn’t even really want to go out, especially when he has to teach an early morning class.  But he’s not there to tell Sean what to do.  
He finishes off the sandwich without a word.  It’s not like Sean feels differently about Santana.  
“You know, speaking of Santana, that reminds me,” Sean says, getting up from his seat.  He goes over to the counter and brings back a red envelope.  “This came for you today -- from McKinley High.”  
Blaine takes it with interest.  He gets mailers from Dalton Academy all the time -- even if he didn’t graduate from there, he had still technically been an alumni.  But something from McKinley?  That just seems weird.  It isn’t the right time for there to be a reunion.  He has no idea what it could possibly be.  
He opens it up to find a black and gold invitation. “Oh,” he says a little fondly as he reads it.  “My old glee club teacher is retiring.  He’s inviting everyone back for homecoming weekend to celebrate.  Cute.”  
Sean grabs at the paper after Blaine lets it drop back to the table.  “Do you want me to come with you?” he offers quietly.  
“Would you want to go?” It’s not often that Sean comes with him on the rare occasions he heads back to Ohio.  
Sean hesitates before he speaks, and snacks on another couple of chips before replying.  “I probably should stay to make sure Marv has a handle on this whole Ashleigh-Karyn thing.  That is, unless you’d like me to go.”  
Blaine stares hard at the paper.  It’s not like he couldn’t go.  He doesn’t have to teach on Fridays, and the school is having a holiday weekend that same weekend.  In theory, he could and it wouldn’t be a problem.  “I don’t even know if I should.”
“Maybe go to see your parents, Blaine,” Sean says.  “It’s got to be at least a few years since you’ve seen them.”
“I saw them last year at…” Blaine considers.  Has time really flown by so quickly? “Huh, I guess it has been at least two since that Christmas we spent in Ohio.” He sits back in his chair to think about it.  
“Hey, Blaine…” There’s suddenly a heaviness in the air.  There’s something behind Sean’s eyes that hadn’t been there earlier.  Something that Blaine catches glimpses of every once in a while.  Something that they’ve been avoiding and, for a moment, Blaine fears that Sean is actually going to bring it up.  The room gets darker, just a cloud passing by the sun, but everything is still -- too still, and Blaine’s heart begins to race.  The moment passes, though, and whatever Sean had been about to say changes.  “I guess talk to Santana about it, and see what she says.”
Blaine stares down at the paper again.  Suddenly, a weekend away from the apartment, away from the city, away from Sean doesn’t seem like such a bad idea.  “Yeah, I’ll do that.”  
***
The fall wind is sharp in its crispness, but it’s still a nice enough evening to go for a run in Central Park.  Three days a week, he and Santana Lopez go out for a jog then grab dinner at a nearby taco truck so they can sit and gossip.  Santana, who’s office isn’t far from where they meet, is already waiting for Blaine when he arrives.  She is stretching her legs, bent over in a V, wearing her usual black spandex pants with a bright, blue bomber jacket that billows slightly.  Her designer sunglasses rest on the top of her head.
Because he has been thinking about high school all day, he can’t help but think that she hasn’t changed much.  Her face has hardened a little with age, but Blaine knows her beauty care routine is much more extensive than his, and he knows how much she spends on wigs and dye jobs.  Today, though, her long, black hair is pulled back tightly in a high pony, amusingly reminiscent of how she wore it in high school.  
“Okay, so I have some hot goss for you today,” she says, immediately after they exchange pleasantries.  She waits for him to do his own stretching, but continues to launch into her news.  “So, you remember how I’ve been endlessly talking about the cute redhead on the floor below?”
“The one who works as a secretary for the greasy lawyer?” Blaine pulls his leg back.  The stretching feels nice, he is glad he is able to get out of the stuffy apartment in some capacity tonight, even if he can tell Santana is a bit more ramped up than usual.  
Santana nods.  “So for weeks now, it’s been flirty glances, and unbuttoning buttons to show off some pretty pricey brassieres, but you know, nothing direct.  Well, today she comes up to my floor, claiming the bathroom is not working in their offices -- and I checked, she was totally lying -- and she’s wearing this tight, and I mean tight, nearly see-through button-down.  With no bra.  She had on no bra.  I could see her fucking nipples, Blaine.”
“The nerve,” Blaine teases.  They begin to walk down their usual path.  They have a good quarter of a mile before they usually start jogging, though they might go the first half of their two miles at a walking pace just so Santana could release her pent up energy verbally.  
“Who doesn’t wear a bra in a professional setting?” Santana continues.  Blaine arches an eyebrow at her.  “Okay, so I have totally done it, but I promise you it was warranted.  Anyway, I think she’s trying to kill me.  I took all of my restraint not to pull her directly into the janitor’s closet and make out with her.  And play with her tits.  I can’t unsee her fucking hot tits, Blaine.” Santana grumbles, putting a fist to her head, as if it’ll magically erase the image.
“You know, you could ask for her number,” Blaine suggests, for maybe the third time since Santana has started talking about the woman.  “Or, you know, find out her name.”  
Santana looks at him sharply.  He knows, she just wants a minute to bitch and revel in her janitor closet fantasies, but it’s not in him not to offer suggestions.  “Her name is Liz.  I at least found that out today.”
“Well, that’s a start,” Blaine offers.  
“Alright, what’s up with you?” she asks abruptly.  “Usually, you’re talking my head off about school, and I’m always having to catch up to you.  You’re trailing me by nearly a foot.  Something’s going on.”
Santana’s senses are rarely off, he shouldn’t be as surprised as he is by it.  He tries to quicken his pace but she is right, he is been in his head all day.  “I’m thinking of going back to therapy.”  He says it simply, laying it out as if it’s another fact, and not something that’s been weighing on his mind.  
She gives him a concerned look.  “Is this a ‘just you’ thing? Or a ‘you and Sean’ thing?”
“A ‘just me’ thing,” he admits.  They are nearly at the lamp post where they usually start to jog, but he’s not feeling as up to it as he had been when he arrived at the park.  “Sean’s staying home for a few days, and I’ve been restless lately…” he doesn’t quite say the things he’s thinking.  “And, I don’t know, I had a weird sex dream this morning.  I’ve been off all day.”
“Well, what does Sean think?”
“He offered to fuck, but I told him I had it taken care of.”
“What, no, not about the sex dream,” Santana stops in her tracks.  They have to wait a moment for an older woman walking a doberman to pass in-between them.  “What does your husband think about you going to therapy?”
“It didn’t come up.”  
“God, Blaine,” Santana says, exasperated.  “Well, if you really would rather spend your evening with me than reconnecting with your husband who is, as you well know, built like a fucking viking, then maybe therapy is what you need.”
It’s more complicated than that.  She knows some of it, but maybe not all of it, and it’s more than Blaine would really like to get into on their fairly public walk through Central Park.  But Santana has also grown to be one of his closest friends and, if nothing else, he can confide in her.  
“I’m going to set up an appointment,” he tries to play it off as just another thing.  She knows better, and gives him one of her infamous staredowns.  “And if it’s something I think I need to continue to do, I’ll keep you informed,” he tries to assure her.  
“You better, Anderson.” Her voice is sharp.  “I may have a cold, dead heart, but I want you to be happy.  And you know I’m always going to be blatantly honest with you, so I say this with all the love I can muster, but I don’t think you are.”  
“I know, I know…” He’s not not happy.  He loves his job.  He loves his little apartment.  He loves being in one of the greatest cities in all of the world.  He and Sean are…  “So, hey, did you get your invitation to Mr. Schue’s retirement party?”  He begins to walk again.  He knows he’s avoiding the conversation, so does Santana.  But she rolls with it.  
“He’s retiring?  Dear god, he’s barely over fifty.”
Blaine lets out a little laugh.  “Well, that’s what the invitation said.”  
“And, fuck, no, I haven’t gotten one,” Santana says.  “Though, it’s been a couple weeks since I’ve checked the mail.  Who sends invitations through the mail these days?  Just start a text chain like a normal person.”
“Would you go?” He asks.  He’s been back and forth on the idea all day.  Does he really want or need to see anyone from high school again?  Possibly?  Would it be nice to get away for a weekend? Most definitely.  Can he really afford to skip town for a little while? That is the big unanswered question.  
Santana bites her lip, thinking it over.  “I mean it really depends on who else got these magical invitations.  Oh, god, will Rachel Berry be there? Please tell me Rachel Berry will be there.  Because I have got to see how little Miss TV-Princess does in a place that does not revolve around her ego.”
Blaine has never had the issues with Rachel that Santana had, but he does remember college.  He does remember Funny Girl.  “Sorry, Santana, I don’t actually have an answer for you on that one.”
Santana throws her hands in the air.  “You keep in touch with everyone, right?  Well, isn’t she part of everyone?”
“I think she’s become a little out of my status level,” Blaine replies, with a smirk.  “Besides, I don’t keep in touch with everyone .”  Truth be told, Santana might be the only person he talks to from high school.  At least on a regular basis.  For all the promises made during the time of staying BFFs forever, real life managed to get in the way of the magical thinking.  
“Alright, let’s work it out, right now, cause this will be the determining factor,” she says.  She pulls at a leaf from one of the trees above her, causing the branch to bounce.  It nearly whacks him in the head, which causes her to giggle a little and shake her head.  “Let’s see… Rachel Berry, possibly.  Said ego might drive her back to the place where it all began.”  
“Sam Evans will probably be there,” Blaine says.  “He does still live in the area.” He and Sam don’t have a lot of contact, but occasionally they’ll do a long distance Fantasy Football thing or chat about a new video game they both own.  He hopes Sam will go - he could use more of that laid back charm in his life.  
“Artie clearly won’t be,” Santana continues.  “I know, because I’m the one who put him on the European press tour for his new film.”
“I doubt Tina will be there either,” Blaine adds.  “She just had her third baby, and she and Ron probably don’t want to make the trip from Boston to Lima with three young children.”  
He thinks of Tina’s Instagram, the only way he really communicates with her, and the constant updates for her hectic life.  She’s happy and looking good, and way too busy to drop everything and run back to Ohio.  Blaine makes a note to give her a call at some point to congratulate her formally on the new baby, even if he had already left a cute note on the Instagram pictures.  
Santana is too caught up in her thought process to say more about Tina.  “Finn won’t be there for obvious reasons.  What the fuck happened to Puck? I doubt he has an address to even send anything to.  Quinn’s too prideful to drag her divorced ass out of Connecticut.  You know she’s already taken a new lover ?  She’s in her mid-thirties, and still hitting up the sugardaddies.  I mean, have some goddamn respect for yourself.”
“Well, Mike’s in Chicago,” Blaine offers.  Mike had been part of the Chicago Ballet for a long time, and had since become a dance instructor.  Blaine had been at Mike’s wedding to his wife, Marie, a couple of years ago, and he’s another one whom Blaine wouldn’t mind seeing again.  Maybe he, Mike, and Sam could have a nice guys’ night out that weekend.  He’ll have to get in touch.
Santana nods.  They walk by a woman sitting on a bench with two screaming children.  Blaine feels bad for the woman, but he and Santana share a look -- both of them glad that they don’t have to deal with that kind of hot mess at home.  
“Then there’s Mercedes,” Santana says, looking up and out into the world.  “Goddess among women.  We do not have the privilege to be in her presence.”  Santana laughs at her own comments.  “Seriously, though, I love my girl, but I don’t judge her for continuing to live her best life.”
“What about Brittany?” Blaine asks, tentatively.  He has no idea if this is a sore subject for her or not because he doesn’t think Santana has brought her up once over the course of their friendship.  
Santana becomes stoney-faced, as if not to give herself too much away.  “No,” she says simply.  “Brittany’s living in some commune in LA where she does Fondue for Two and runs a cat babysitting service.”  
“That’s a thing?”
“In LA it is.”  A fond smile climbs on her lips.  “In any case, as much as I am always up for seeing my girl again, I highly doubt she’ll be back.  I mean, we were still hooking up for a while the few times I made it out to LA, but recently she’s found someone a little more… permanent.  And before you go on pitying me, let me assure you, I am more than fine.”  She’s quiet for a moment as she reflects.  For a person who is almost always open about her thoughts, she’s decidedly reclusive when it comes to matters of her heart.  Blaine knows better than to try to pry it out of her. “Anyway, if we’re going to be upfront about exes, I believe there’s only one person left, if we’re not counting random chicks with mafia dads or weird Irish exchange students.  And I’m sure we both know that there’s no way in hell Lady Hummel is coming back to Lima, Ohio.”
“Oh!” Blaine says, as if it’s a complete revelation.  Kurt hadn’t even entered his mind, and it is surreal to think that his brain didn’t go there first.  
“Oh, please, don’t tell me you actually forgot about Lady Hummel and his heartbreaking ways,” Santana scoffs.  “Pretty sure years of therapy couldn’t undo all the trauma that did.”
She isn’t wrong, and she would know, because she helped pick him up a year after everything had happened.  But that’s the funny thing -- it’s not that he doesn’t remember Kurt.  (God, he remembers all of Kurt.)  He doesn’t remember the person he used to be when he had been with Kurt.  There had been a time when he would have shifted the Sun and the Moon and the entire Earth for Kurt Hummel.  A time when his heart had pointed in only one direction.  And a time so dark that when Kurt had ended it, Blaine didn’t know how he would ever move on.  
And yet he did.  
The person he had been is now such a faded memory he can barely remember what those feelings were like.  Kurt Hummel is just another name from his past, a person who, yes, helped shape him into the person he is now.  But long gone are the emotions once attached to that name.  Funny how things can change.  Someone could mean so much to you at one point in time, and yet after time…
“I didn’t forget about Kurt, clearly,” Blaine says. He grabs her arm, and loops his own through it.  The jog isn’t happening today, and he’s fine with that.  Some days, it’s best just to have the company rather than the exercise.  “I just think you’re right, unless Burt is dying or something.  But doubtful that he’ll return for a silly retirement party.”
“You almost sound disappointed.”
Blaine shrugs, and gives a smile.  He doesn’t know how he feels about whether or not Kurt will be there.  He hasn’t thought about him so long.  But he does know that after all this talk of the past, maybe he is ready to go back and see if anyone else is feeling the same way.  “I think we should do it.  Go back.  I mean, why not?”
Santana shakes her head.  “Oh, this whole idea sounds like the worst, but if there’s a chance I get to make-out with Quinn Fabray again, then I’m in.”
For the first time in a while, Blaine feels a little lighter on his feet.
***
Not a few weeks later, Blaine is on a plane back to Ohio.  
He and Sean talked it over and, while Sean had been technically free to go, they agreed that maybe it would be better if Blaine went himself; the unspoken dialogue being that space isn’t the worst thing they could give each other.  Blaine had not been able to help but be fidgety with his wedding ring during the flight but, intent on giving himself a weekend off from real life, he drowned himself in his favorite podcasts, and had tried not to think about his life in New York.  
The party is on a Saturday afternoon, but he’s there on Friday so to spend time with his mom.  They end up having a nice lunch together, and she takes him shopping.  She’s as feisty as ever, somehow managing to remind Blaine of Santana, and he wonders if she’s always been like that or if that’s a new trait of being in your sixties.  They end up FaceTiming with Cooper and the kids, and Blaine indulges his little nieces by singing them Disney Princess songs.  The whole day weirdly feels like the family they usually are only around Christmas time, but he’s in good enough spirits that he doesn’t question it.  
Later that night, his dad comes home, and they have pizza before his parents go off for one of their social benefit parties they often frequent, reminding Blaine of the old days when his parents were never home on a Friday night.  He doesn’t mind so much because McKinley’s Homecoming Football game is that night.  
His original plan had been to meet up with Sam since Santana’s plane isn’t coming in until tomorrow.  But Sam declined, stating that Mercedes Jones is coming late that night and she needs a ride from the airport.  Sam didn’t ask Blaine to come with him.  Blaine calls up Mike, who is happy to hear from him, and says that he will be at the party but is only going to make the trip to Lima once on Saturday.  He doesn’t bother trying to get a hold of anyone else, and ends up going to the game alone.  
Coming back to McKinley feels like going back in time, and yet the kids running around make him feel entirely too old to be there.  He half expects Sue Sylvester to pop out and start yelling at the cheerleaders, or Mr. Figgins to make some sort of half-time speech, but the world of McKinley has moved on, even if the campus has remained remarkably the same.  The game is fun, but kind of boring, and he’s not surprised when the team loses by seventeen points.  Still, seeing the array of alumni all cheering around him, he feels a strange sort of connection to the place in a way that he really didn’t when he actually went to the school.  It’s a bit surreal.  
Afterwards, not ready to go home to an empty house, he drives around for a bit, until by chance, he drives by Scandals, Lima’s decrepit excuse for a gay bar.  Feeling somewhat amused, a little nostalgic, and a lot in need of a drink, he decides to grab a beer for old times’ sake.  He decides, on a whim, to put his wedding ring in his pocket.  He’s not actually planning anything, but it’s also not like Sean wears his anymore, anyway.  
Scandals is even more in a sad state of affairs then he remembers, even if ‘Funk-It-Up-Friday’ is trying to give the place some of that Mid-Western Charm.  He orders a bottled beer, and sips as he thinks fondly about the time he watched Dave Karofsky try to line dance.  God, that had been so long ago…
“I’m guessing this place rarely sees a man as gorgeous as you.  Mind if I buy you a drink?”
It takes a moment for Blaine to realize the pick-up line is directed at him, but he does instantly recognize the voice.  Much to his shock, when he turns around, he’s face to face with a much older, and yet still dazzlingly magnificent, Kurt Hummel.
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elliesguitarstrings · 4 years ago
Text
The New Girl ~ The Date
Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
Masterlist || Series Masterlist
Warnings: a few swears, fluff ig lol
A/N: ITS FINALLY HERE!!! so the series is technically done but i thought it would be cute to do a one shot of the date since it would be hard to describe just in texts lmao. i’m so so so sorry this took me so long to write i had absolutely no free time on spring break and then i had exams so i wrote this extremely fast pls don’t judge if this is bad but i hope you enjoy anyways 🥰
this can be read without reading the series first but it might make a little more sense if you have read all the parts :)
~~~~~~~~
The last bell rings in your 7th period class, signaling the end of the school day, and you immediately jump out of your seat and make your way over to Peter's desk.
"You ready to go Parker?" you ask excitedly.
"Yeah, I have to grab some books from my locker first before we leave though," he replies, packing up his stuff.
"Okay, but this time I'm coming with you. I'm not letting you leave me waiting again."
"You're never gonna let me live that one down are you?" he smirks.
"Nope," you giggle, "now hurry up, we've got a date."
After you stop at Peter's locker you take the short walk down to Delmar’s. It isn’t awkward per se, but you can tell that Peter is nervous. So in an attempt to ease his nervousness, you take his hand and intertwine your fingers with his as you walk. Unfortunately, this only results in him completely forgetting how to function and his face turning as red as a tomato. Nonetheless, you continue to drag him to the sandwich shop and Peter quickly regains composure for the rest of the walk.
When you arrive, Peter walks up to the counter, greeting Mr. Delmar.
“Hey, Mr. Parker! The usual I presume?” the man smiles.
“Yup, and a bag of chips with that please.”
“You got it!” Mr. Delmar turns to you, “And who might this young lady be? You got a date kid?”
Peter immediately blushes, his eyes widening. Saving him from embarrassing himself, you speak up. “I’m y/n, and yes, this is a date. Peter said this is the best sandwich shop in Queens, so I thought I’d give it a try.”
“Well he’s not wrong, this is the best sandwich shop in Queens. So what’ll it be for you?”
“Oh, um, I’ll just have the same thing as Peter. Chips too please.”
“Coming right up. And don’t worry about the cost, it’s on the house today.” he winks at Peter.
“Oh, thanks.” Peter says with a sheepish smile.
After a few minutes and some small talk between you and Peter, your food is ready. Mr. Delmar hands Peter two bags and gives you both a knowing smirk. “Alright, you kids have fun on your date. Try your best not to weird her out too much Parker.”
Peter laughs, clearly embarrassed. “Yeah, um, I’ll try. Thanks Mr. Delmar.”
As you walk out of the shop, Peter hesitantly turns to you. “So, um, I was wondering if you wanted to come over to my place to eat our food? It’s not too far from here and my aunt is at work right now so we’ll have the place to ourselves.” His eyes widen, “Not that we’d be doing anything! Just because she can be a bit overbearing sometimes and I don’t want her to like, ask a bunch of questions or anything weird like that. We can just eat at a park somewhere if that’s better though. I just thought since last time we hung out at your house this time we could hang out at mine-”
You cut him off, smiling, “Peter, calm down, that would be great! Let’s go to your place.”
He lets out a relieved sigh. “Awesome, okay! Um, it’s only like ten minutes away so just follow me.”
You arrive at his apartment a few minutes later, out of breath from trying to catch up with Peter who was practically running the whole way home. He unlocks the door and you follow him inside. His apartment is quite small, but it's homely and welcoming, filled with lots of pictures and decorations.
"So, uh, this is it. Do you just want to eat on the couch? Maybe we could watch a movie or something?" Peter asks.
"Sure! Sounds good." You settle on the couch in the living room, taking out your sandwich and chips while Peter turns on the TV. He grabs the remote and makes his way back to the couch, sitting on the opposite side as you. He considers sitting right next to you, but he's afraid that it would make you uncomfortable, so he decides against it.
"What do you wanna watch?" he asks as you hand him his food.
"How about a Star Wars movie? Those are always good." you suggest.
Peter turns to you excitedly, "You like Star Wars?"
You smile, "Of course I like Star Wars! It's like, the best movie franchise ever."
Peter just stares at you, looking completely astonished. He can't believe that you, a beautiful, rich, confident girl, could like Star Wars as much as an awkward geek like him. "You good?" you giggle.
"Yeah, um, I'm fine. Does Empire Strikes Back sound good to you?"
"Sounds great! Now let's eat, I'm fucking hungry." you comment, making Peter chuckle.
You're only about twenty minutes into the movie when you both finish your food, and Peter seems tense. He's anxiously tapping his foot on the floor, seemingly too focused on the movie whenever you look his way. You can tell that he's thinking about something, but you aren't sure what. For the first time today, you start to get nervous, worried that he isn't enjoying the date. He's barely talked to you since the movie started, and he's sitting on the complete opposite end of the couch as you.
"Is everything okay Peter?" you finally speak up, your curiosity getting the best of you.
Still avoiding your gaze and staring at the TV, Peter answers, "Yeah, um, I'm good."
He's obviously lying, but you choose to ignore it for now, "Okay, just checking." Maybe he's not feeling well from his food?
After five more minutes of silence, you finally break. You reach over and grab the remote, pausing the movie, causing Peter to finally look at you. "Hey! What was that for?"
"Peter, something's obviously wrong with you, you've been glued to the TV this whole time and you haven't said a single word to me."
"I'm, uh, I just really like the movie. That's all." he responds, still avoiding your gaze.
"Come on, I know that's not true. Something's up with you Peter. If you aren't enjoying the date just tell me and I'll leave. We can just pretend this never happened and we'll be friends." you deadpan. While you seem completely indifferent on the outside, you're desperately hoping that he doesn't end the date like this. You really like Peter, and even though you just met him, you don't know if you'll ever see him as just a friend.
Peter looks up at you, frantically shaking his head. "Nonononono, that's not it at all! I'm having a great time!"
"Are you sure? Because it really doesn't seem like it to me."
"No, trust me, I am. It's just, um-" he pauses.
"It's just what?"
He looks down. "Nothing, nothing. Nevermind."
"Peter, just tell me. Please?"
"I, uhm, I'm just nervous, that's all." he whispers, feeling ashamed.
You let out a sigh of relief, your own nervousness fading. "What would you have to be nervous about Peter? We're just watching a movie," you giggle.
He begins to ramble, "Well, its just, you're really pretty and I really like you a lot and I don't want to do anything wrong since I already fucked it up the first time and I wanted to sit next to you and cuddle while we watch the movie but then I didn't want to make you uncomfortable because this is only the first date and I didn't want you to hate me because you thought I was some weird perv who just wanted to touch you and I now feel stupid because now you think I'm not having a good time even though I am having a good time so I still fucked it up even though I was trying really hard not to."
You raise your eyebrows, trying to process everything that he just threw at you. "Woah, that was a lot," you start. "But you don't have to be nervous, I don't think you fucked anything up... And also, I wouldn't think you're a perv if you came and cuddled with me while we watch the movie." you smile slightly.
Peter catches on. "Oh... so, um, do you want to cuddle now then?" he asks timidly.
"I thought you'd never ask," you laugh, crawling over to his side of the couch and sliding under his arm to snuggle into his chest. You can feel his heart practically beating out of his chest, and you look up at him. “Peter, relax. You really don’t need to be so nervous,” you giggle.
“S-sorry, I’ve just never cuddled with a girl before.” With the way he was acting, you would think you and Peter were about to have sex, or that you were at least doing something a little more dirty than just cuddling. You don’t mind though, it's actually kind of cute. Plus, to be completely honest you haven’t had much experience either, so you feel better knowing that Peter is just as nervous as you are, probably more.
You smile, cuddling closer to him. “Just turn the movie back on idiot.”
For the rest of the film, you and Peter snuggle close on the couch. He absentmindedly plays with your hair as you lay on his chest, making your heart swoon. You two could honestly stay like this forever, and neither of you would mind. But your phone dings with a notification. You groan, not wanting to get up, and slowly reach to the other side of the couch to grab it.
“It’s my dad, he wants me to come home for dinner.” you frown.
“Oh, well, um, okay. Then I guess you should probably get going. I really don’t want you to leave though.” Peter blushes.
“Neither do I, but you know how my dad gets.”
“Yeah,” he chuckles, “I’ll walk you out then.” You and Peter both get up from the couch and walk to his front door.
“I had a really good time today.” Peter grins.
“Me too.” you step closer to him and pull him into a tight hug. You pull back after a few seconds, your arms hanging around his neck and his still on your waist. You smile, “I really like you Peter.”
“I really like you too Y/N. So much.”
Without hesitation, you both lean in and close the small gap between you. The kiss is short, but it’s not awkward like everyone says first kisses are. Peter’s lips are soft against yours, and it makes you warm inside, like hot chocolate on a cold day. It’s perfect.
You pull away only when you hear the door unlock and open. “Hey Peter, what do you want for dinner- oh?”
“MAY!” Peter yells, embarrassed.
May smirks, “You didn’t tell me you had a girl over!” she turns to you, gasping “You must be Y/N! Peter has told me so much about you. Oh my god, am I interrupting something? Is this a date? You guys are using protection right-“
“May, please stop!” Peter pleads as you giggle, both of you blushing profusely.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’ll leave you two alone. I have to go to the grocery store anyway, so just pretend I was never here.” May winks.
You shake your head, “Oh, no worries, I was just leaving actually, my dad wants me home for dinner.”
“Oh, well alright then, goodbye Y/N I hope you two had fun! And I also hope I’ll be seeing you again soon!” she smiles
“I think you will.” you smile, “Bye Peter, see you at school tomorrow.”
“Bye Y/N, see you tomorrow!” he grins, still blushing.
You walk out the door, giddy and reminiscing over the kiss that you and Peter shared mere minutes ago. As you leave, you can hear May questioning Peter about the date, and you can’t help but smile knowing that May is already in support of your relationship. Although you and Peter haven't explicitly talked about it, you're almost positive that Peter would want to be your boyfriend, and you know for a fact that you want to be his girlfriend. But you don't want to pressure him into anything, so you decide to wait for him to ask you, whenever that will be. You just hope it'll be soon.
~~~~~~~~
Taglist: @justafangirlduh @spookybooisa @pure-ghost @hufflepuffzutara @marvel-ousnesss @ithoughtyouweresokovian @onewithnomightypowers @stefans-wife @liljennyx3 @perspectiive @popluckbih @ehggowo @itscaminow @so-very-asleep @herondalism @peterspideysense @bxbble-gxm0 @voilawind @allaroundtheworldme @marajillana @rafeyybabyy @ph1na @roseke @amywinehouseisgod @yasminwashere @lou-la-lou @lilliagradiewrites @bichellejones @anna-sofia @hermione-grangers-wife @hollandstanevans @peterpcrker @doctor187 @libbyeaston @305weasley @generalhugzzz @clara-licht @spicyangelx @mskatharinak @ietss @givebuckyhisplumsnow @wintersoldierslut @singerintheshower @yazzyu @sherlockmarvelharrypotter @minghaos-lines @themarvelousb @ifilwtmfc @deviljoonie @icant-hangout-imdrumming
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Just So I Could Call You Mine - Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader part 3
A/N: It's finally here!! I'm sorry the wait was so long but I'm hoping it'll be worth it. I'd just like to thank @ya-boi-is-dead for the inspiration for this fic. Please enjoy:)
Warnings: Swearing
*** = time skip
Word Count: 2744
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Things with Aaron had been going great. After the incident at Rossi’s, we decided to take things slow but, us being who we were, fell right back into the pattern of things. Most weekends were spent with each other whether it was going for coffee, a stroll in the park, or (more often than not) we just stayed home enjoying each other’s company once again. We tried to hold off from telling the team to start with as we didn’t want the pressure of them knowing to somehow hinder things but trying to hide a relationship from a group of profilers is like trying to hide from an unsub behind a glass door. Impossible. When they all inevitably found out, Aaron got an earful from the lot of them considering how things went last time, but I can honestly say, he’s not going to hurt me. The one person we’ve decided it’s absolutely essential not to tell is the mega bitch herself – Haley. I can’t risk Aaron losing Jack for being in a relationship with me, I’d never forgive myself. So, while Haley knows me and Aaron are back on good terms, everything else is hidden from her.
I jolted upright as an alarm sounded right next to my head. I fumbled around beside me trying to find my phone to shut it off. As I pulled my phone towards me, JJ’s name flashed in my face.
“Oh my god finally, where the hell are you? Is Hotch with you?” She said sounding frustrated.
“What do you mean?” I replied, my voice heavy with sleep. As I was talking, I felt an arm snake around my waist pulling me backwards. Aaron buried his head in the crook of my neck, sighing happily. In that moment I wanted nothing more than to hang up the phone, cuddle up to him and just stay there forever. However, this being my life – that was not going to happen.
“You were meant to be here half an hour ago. Hotch has a meeting this morning that starts in 20 minutes and neither of you are anywhere to be seen.” JJ explained. That woke me up. I looked at the clock. 10:00. Shit.
“Aaron.” I jabbed him with my elbow causing him to groan while pulling me closer to him. “Aaron, seriously wake up. We’re so late. You have a meeting today.” I hissed. He shot up right.
“What?” He looked at the clock. “Fuck. What happened to the alarm?” He asked, rushing to get out of bed.
“I don’t know, we must have forgotten to set it.” I replied. “Okay Jayje we’re on our way, we’ll be there asap. See you soon.” I said hanging up the phone. Aaron tumbled into the bathroom, pulling his trousers on before grabbing his toothbrush. I pulled my shirt over my head whilst frantically trying to find my hairbrush.
“I can’t believe we let this happen.” I called out, trying not to laugh.
“I know, I could’ve sworn I set the alarm.” He replied.
“I mean we were a bit, well – preoccupied – last night.” I joked. He shot me a smirk before his face dropped.
“Fuck.”
“What is it?” I asked.
“I was meant to take jack to school today. He has a late start and Haley said she couldn’t make it. But I’ve got to the get to this meeting.” He dropped his head in his hands.
“Where is he now?” I questioned.
“He should still be at Jess’s, he stayed over last night.” He replied, doing his tie up.
“Well, I can grab him if you want. I can afford to be a few more minutes late to the office.” I offered. He shot me an uncertain look.
“Won’t that look a bit strange? If you turn up they might think somethings going on” he said. I stepped closer to him.
“I can just say I’m doing a favour for a friend. I’ll even throw in there that the rest of the team were busy, so I was a last resort if you want.” I suggested. He chuckled at my words but still looked hesitant.
“What’s on your mind Aaron?” I placed my arms round his neck as his gravitated towards my waist. He sighed.
“I just don’t want to risk things going wrong again. I don’t think I could handle losing you again.” He confessed. My heart melted. It gave me comfort to know he was serious about us this time.
“I get it. But I can promise you this. You are not going to lose me again, okay? I’m in this for the long haul. Not even the queen of manipulation herself can take me away from you.” I said, cupping his face in my hands. A smile graced his lips, one that I only ever saw at home. One that made me feel safe.
“But if you want me to call Emily and ask her to pick him up, I will.” I continued.
“No. I want you to go. Jack loves you anyway.” He replied before pulling me into a kiss. It was a whirlwind, one that I never wanted to break from. But considering neither of us had left the house yet – I was forced to.
“Okay, come on we need to leave.” I said grabbing my coat and heading outside. I gave him a quick kiss before jumping in my car and heading to Jess’ place.
*****************************************************************
The ride there was relatively quick considering I’d stayed at Aarons, and she only lived about 15 minuets away. I knew Jess quite well, and we got along. She’d never had an issue with me unlike her sister. But I couldn’t help from feeling slightly anxious as I knocked on the door. However, the last thing I expected was to see was the person I’d been trying my best to avoid.
“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Haley questioned, raising her brow at me. I swallowed nervously. Don’t get me wrong, she didn’t intimidate me. I mean she’s the human equivalent to a chihuahua – mouthy as fuck but tiny. I just didn’t want to say anything that might jeopardise Aaron.
“Hey Haley, I’m here to take Jack to school. Hotch was running late for a meeting and didn’t think you were available. The rest of the team were busy, so he called me.” I said calmly. She looked me up and down, judging me heavily.
“A likely story. You’re not his mum you know, just because your suddenly all friendly with Aaron.” She said applying as much emphasis as she could onto his name. “It means nothing outside of work.” I could tell she was trying to provoke some type of reaction out of me, but me being the stubborn bitch I am, wasn’t about to give her what she wanted. Instead, I opted for a more entertaining route.
“Oh my god I’m so sorry.” I gushed. “If you ever thought I was overstepping I’m apologise, that was never my intent.” I said my voice oozing with as much fake soppiness I could handle. She rolled her eyes before walking away.
“I can’t believe he still tolerates you” She muttered. I’m assuming she was referring to Hotch. Before I could think on it any longer, Jack can bounding towards me.
“Y/N” He called happily.
“Hey little man” I replied bending down to wrap my arms around him. The happiness this kid brought me was insane.
“You ready for school?” I asked standing back up.
“Yep. We’re making decorations for the class today. We’re having a party on Friday” He replied, beaming up at me.
“That’s amazing buddy. Let’s get you there right away then shall we?” I replied.
“Okay. Bye mum.” He called before grabbing my hand and tugging me towards the car. I didn’t get a chance to see Haley’s face as we left but I could feel her eyes burning into the back of my head. Well, that was fun.
***********************************************************************
The rest of the day went fine, despite the rushed start. Luckily Hotch had made it in time for his meeting. We didn’t have a case today, so it was a pretty lazy day. I spent most of it either pestering Emily or gossiping with Garcia. I guess, technically, there was some paperwork I could’ve been doing but my ideas were so much more fun.
“I’m telling you now Garcia, I swore we’d set an alarm.” I said between laughter.
“Well, it’s nice to know he’s satisfying you this time round.” She quipped.
“Hey, satisfaction was never an issue” I replied. Her eyes widened mischievously.
“So” She begun. “He’s good in bed then?” She asked, twirling her fluffy pen in between her fingers as she leant back in her chair.
“Pen, I love you, but I’m not discussing this with you right now. We’re in a professional workspace.” I said, a fake authoritative tone laced in my voice. She shot me a look of pretend annoyance but before she could say anything Emily burst through the door.
“You alright there Em?” I asked turning to face her.
“You guys might wanna come and see this” she said before turning and walking back out the way she came. I swapped a confused look with Garcia before getting up and following Emily. The team was stood in the bullpen, not-so-subtly starring into Hotch’s office.
“What’s going on?” I asked Spencer. He just gestured at the window. I looked up and saw a very pissed off looking Haley standing in front of an equally pissed off Aaron. They were having a rather heated debated (argument) by the looks of things.
“Why is she here?” Garcia piped up. “We don’t know. She just showed up and barged in.” Derek replied. I felt my face flush red as my heart sunk.
“Hey.” Spencer nudged me with his elbow. “What’s wrong?” He questioned.
“I think it’s my fault.” I muttered. This caught the team’s attention, but before anyone could ask me about it, Haley stormed out of his office.
“No, I’m not having this Aaron. This isn’t fair” She yelled.
“You’re being unreasonable. I was running late, and you said you were busy. What did you expect me to do?” He replied, aggravated. Fuck, this was about me.
“You could have called anyone else. Not the woman who’s been trying to squeeze her way into my son’s life. She’s trying to replace me god dam it.” I felt the team’s eyes on me, but I refused to look at them. Aaron glanced at me before replying to Haley.
“You need to quit the bullshit Haley. Y/N knows full well that you are Jack’s mother, and she would never do anything to undermine or replace you. Stop trying to pin this all on her when she’s been nothing but nice to you.” He’d finally had enough of her and I’m not ashamed to admit that I was glad. It made my heart swell with pride to hear how he was defending me. That feeling didn’t last long as Haley’s shrill voice pulled me from my thoughts.
“Nice to me?? Aaron have you lost your mind?” She stepped towards him, placing her hands on his chest. This pissed me off. I went to go forward but JJ grabbed my arm.
“Do you not remember what she did? The phone call? She told everyone about you Aaron. I wouldn’t do that to you.” She blinked up at him, clearly trying to win him over. That was enough.
“No, you’d just shag some other guys behind his back wouldn’t you Haley” I called, shaking JJ’s hand from me. I walked up the stairs and stood next to Aaron, who’d pushed her hands away at this point.
“I would never do that. Aaron, listen to her spinning these lies about me.” She protested.
“Seriously Haley? Come off it. You’re making yourself look like a right twat. We all know you cheated, and we all know your just trying to ruin everything good in Aaron’s life because your bitter that he has a life outside of you. So just accept that he’s moved on and leave.” I said, trying my hardest not to yell at her.
“Honestly.” She scoffed. “At least I didn’t expose his secrets to the whole team. You might want to work on keeping your mouth shut. As well as your legs, it’s not attractive to sleep around the office you know honey.” She shot. It took everything inside of me not to smack the bitch right there.
“First of all, stop with the fucking lies okay. I told Aaron what really happened with that phone call. The fact that you tried to turn my own boyfriend against me purely to satisfy your own crazy, possessive fantasies is the most delusional fucked up thing you could have possibly done. He doesn’t love you anymore. When will you get that into your thick skull” I yelled. Safe to say I’d lost it. Haley just starred back at me, unable to talk. “Nobody wants you here. Grab your shit and get out.” I spat. This seemed to snap her back into reality. She shifted her eyes from me to Aaron.
“You are never going to see Jack again.” She hissed. She turned to walk away but I stepped in front of her.
“What was that?”
“I said he’s never going see jack again. I’m taking him to court and making sure I get full custody. If he’s choosing to side with you, there’s no way in hell I’m letting my son be in his life.” She explained, her tone was viscous.
“On what grounds are you going to take him to court for?” I pressed. This caught her off guard. “No please do tell me. Because as far as I’m aware, you don’t have a leg to stand on. Aaron has done nothing to prove he’s a bad father or should be denied custody. He has a house, a clean background, a stable career – I mean hell, he probably earns more than you. So, think about it, do you really want to kick up a big fuss for something you probably wont even win?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to string a sentence together but her words fell short. “Exactly. Now, Aaron will be picking Jack up later and we will bring him home tomorrow. Now, leave.” I concluded, a satisfied smile on my face. Haley glanced from me to Aaron, dumbfounded, before grabbing her bag and storming out. As soon as she left, I heard clapping coming from down below. I looked down and saw Derek grinning proudly as he applauded me.
“WHOOOH!” He called.
“Look at you go girl” Penelope jeered joining in. Soon enough the whole team were clapping and cheering up at me. I laughed at them, suddenly becoming shy. All Of a Sudden, I felt an arm snake around my waist, turning me around. Before I could process anything, Aaron had cupped my face in his hands and crashed his lips to mine passionately. My head was spinning. As cliché as it sounds, the rest of the world melted away as I allowed myself to get lost in the heat of the kiss. It was laced with nothing but love. Eventually, we pulled away from each other, but he pressed his forehead to mine. He wore a boyish, heart-warming smile on his lips.
“I’ve never loved anyone as much as I love you.” He whispered. The sincerity in his voice shocked me.
“I-I love you too. I’m sorry to have caused a scene I just couldn’t stand to see her all over you like that and she was-“ I rambled but he cut me off by placing a finger to my lips.
“Shh. You did nothing wrong. Thank you. For everything.” He replied. I pulled away slightly and grinned up at him.
“Anytime love, anytime.” We starred into each other’s eyes for a moment longer. His arms round my waist, mine around his neck – just basking in our love for each other for a brief moment.
“Um guys, this is cute and all, but could you just get a room or something?” Rossi called, causing us all to laugh.
“Come on.” Aaron said, lacing his fingers in mine. “Let’s go home.” I’d never felt happier than I did it that moment. The moment I knew I’d be with him forever.
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fanfic-cave · 4 years ago
Text
Migraine
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1.8k
Pairing: Hunter x GN!Reader
Warnings: War Flashbacks/implied PTSD, angst & guilt, people be crushing on eachother, is this fluff? perhaps...
Summary: You start with a normal day with TBB, when a migraine comes on and you relive your worst traumas. How do you cope, especially when it happens on the havoc marauder?
I came up with this idea when I was having a migraine the other day, and I kinda infused it with an OC I had thought up. I decided to leave it GN for the readers, but technically its a part of their story, if that makes sense. (I actually think the story is kinda cool so I might write up chapters we'll see...)
Leave feedback if you'd like! :)
Today started as a normal day for you. You made a trip to go visit the most interesting group around, The Bad Batch. They seemed to appreciate your company, and you enjoyed theirs. Often they expected you to come over and socialize for a good chunk of the day. You remember what a stark contrast this was from when you first met, each of them suspicious of you (well, except for Omega), and you skeptical of them. Once you asked for their help making a trip to Dantooine, you protected each other in battle, and the walls started coming down. Now you had each other's backs, you’d all proven it countless times.
Except you’re still lying to them. The unwelcome thought intruded your mind. You still haven’t told them why you’re really avoiding the empire.
*Y/N, did you hear what I said?* Tech spoke in Ryl. Once he heard you knew several languages from all over the galaxy, he enjoyed taking the opportunity to speak a different language with you.
You shook your head. “Sorry Tech, lost in thought, what did you say?” You had replied in common instead. He looked slightly disappointed at your doing so. “I asked you if you’d seen the improvements I made to your vibroblades yet.” You looked down and saw he had definitely made some adjustments. “Oh, no I haven’t. I need to try practicing with them.”
“You’d have better luck with a blaster.” Crosshairs voice came from down the hall. He shouldered past you, bumping into you intentionally. You laughed at his comment, massaging your forehead as an attempt to combat an oncoming headache. “Hah, do I need to remind you what happened when you let your snarky attitude get the better of you while I had my blades?” You managed to see him shake his head in response, the lights in the room suddenly started to bother you.
His voice became faint, you heard “Lucky … only close … shoot you.” His voice was coming in and out, and a harsh pounding pain began at the top of your skull. You gripped your head and tried laughing at Cross’s comment, you’re sure it was probably his usual attitude. You thought you heard Hunters voice coming down the hall, but you couldn’t make out words. You saw through squinted eyes Tech was analyzing your behavior, and his lips began to move.
Finally you had to squeeze your eyes shut, and voice as loudly as you could “Gotta go.” The lights seemed too bright, and your headache revealed itself as a full-blown migraine. The bright lights seemed to cut into you, making the pounding in your head stronger. You felt like a big fist was punching you from inside, trying to break your skull open. You stumbled down the halls and managed to find the bathroom, rushing in and shutting the door.
The pounding subsided slightly, now that light was absent. You groaned and settled yourself on the floor. Unwelcome thoughts began to flash through your head. Separatist forces engaging you and the battalion. BANG. Tanks firing. BANG. Dead clone troopers lying on the ground, their voice screaming. BANG. Your own body lying on the ground unable to move. BANG. Tears streamed down your face, both from the pain and the horrible memories.
A soft knock at the door pulled you back into the moment, and you realized you had been banging your head on the wall. “Y/N?” You heard Hunters voice on the other side.
“I’m fine.” You said weakly. “Headache. Give me a minute.” You heard voices on the other side of the door, and footsteps shuffling. The head pounding in your skull still continued, but the flashes were gone.
“Close your eyes.” Hunter spoke quietly now. You covered your eyes, not having the energy to argue with him right now.
You heard the door open and he walked it, quickly closing the door. “What’s going on?” He knelt onto the floor next to you. You could make out his figure, and see a concerned look etched into his face now that your eyes adjusted to the dark. “Migraine. I’d like to be…” Alone. You tried to say it, but you couldn’t. You’d never had someone around when the pain was this bad, and part of you wanted him to stay with you the whole time. You gripped your head with both hands as a swell of pain surged through again.
Hunter gave you a moment to finish your sentence, once he realized you wouldn’t he sighed. “Let me at least put you somewhere more comfortable.” He spoke in a whisper, trying not to agitate you too much. He waited for a response. “Can you move?” You tried standing, pain swelled, and you settled back down. You knew it would only get worse when the door opened and the light would come through. You tried shaking your head. “I’m gonna carry you, okay?” He waited for an objection. “The light…” you breathed out. “Don’t worry, I'll handle it.” You heard him shuffle around, cloth moving, and then he gently wrapped a towel around your head. Your eyes were now effectively covered.
You felt one arm wrap around your back, his hand gripping your side, the other arm began securing you under your legs. In one fluid movement, Hunter lifted you up and your body was leaning against his. You pressed your towel-covered face into the crook of his shoulder, preparing to block out the light. You felt him take a sharp breath in as you pressed your face tightly against him. The door swung open, and you were relieved that you could see no brightness. The pain continued its pounding, but it began to dull. You felt comfortable and secure in his arms, and you realized nobody has ever taken care of you quite like this. You were suddenly grateful you had the towel on (which you realized had quite an unpleasant smell too), because it hid the blush that filled your cheeks.
Hunter's body swayed a little and you heard his feet move. Do I even weigh anything to him? You wondered, since he carried you so easily. Another door opened, and then shut. He took a few more steps, then you felt him adjusting your weight, beginning to set you down. He settled you onto a comfortable cot, a soft blanket underneath you. He gently rested your head down on the pillow, and removed your towel. The room was dark, darker than in the bathroom. You looked around and realized you were in Hunter's room. It was small, but it had enough room to fit you on the cot and him standing at the foot of the bed.
You both looked at each other for a moment, the pain lessening a little. “That towel smells.” You whispered. Hunter shrugged. You wrinkled your nose at him and then went to massage your forehead. You turned onto your left side so you could face him better, and fully relaxed into the bed. Although there was a slight stink, the bed smelled like him too. You pulled the blanket up a little to hide your face, and to take in the scent more. It served as a good distraction.
“Stay as long as you need to,” he said quietly. You heard him begin to shuffle out of the room. “Wait-” you reached out, not close enough to grab him, but the gesture caused him to freeze. You felt a slight surge of embarrassment, but ignored it. “Stay a bit. Please. I think it helps.” You saw his chest move up, like he was holding his breath. You wished you could see his face, to try and pick apart what he might be thinking right now. You continued massaging your head, moving to your temples now. You closed your eyes and tried relaxing, not wanting to pressure him by staring. You didn’t hear his movement, but the bed shifted, and you felt fingers move in between yours, and they began taking over the circular motions. You looked up and saw Hunter sat on the bed, a few inches in front of your body. You hoped he couldn’t see the color in your face change as he gently took over massaging your temple.
Although you were a little flustered by him doing this, you felt your heart flutter and your body relax to his touch. The pain was a soft thud now, and you could more easily ignore it. Your eyes had wandered away for a minute, but you searched for him again. You saw that he was watching you closely, and you thought he looked concerned, although his face seemed to betray no expression. The massaging turned into a head rub that went in circular motions all around and through your hair. It felt amazing and you sighed, resting your head more onto the pillow.
You watched Hunter for another minute. He never made eye contact with you, but you knew he was watching you, just as you were watching him. After a few more moments passed, you reached up to grab Hunters hand to stop his motions. He looked into your eyes questioningly. “Thank you, Hunter.” You smiled softly, and began to sit up on the bed. He hesitated, and then his hand retreated back. “Sure, we take care of each other here.”
What does this mean? You thought, as you both looked into each other's eyes. You had wondered at one point if there was something more to Hunter, or something more between the two of you. You both seemed to get along well, and you couldn’t deny there were moments you had. Tending to wounds, protecting each other in a fight, you wondered… Could there be something more here?
It doesn’t matter. I don’t deserve it. I don’t even deserve their trust.
You looked away from him and began to stand. “I should be getting back.”
“Already?” He seemed surprised. “Everyone will be back soon.” You remained silent. “I know Omega would like to see you.” You felt a sting in your chest as he mentioned her. Omega was your first friend in the group. Her innocent kindness towards you had been the beginnings of your relationship with everyone. You had a soft spot for her, just like everyone else seemed to. You managed to look back at him and smile softly “You’ll have to tell her hi for me.” You allowed yourself another moment to look at him. He broke eye contact fairly quickly and said “Alright then, fine.” You sighed and recognized that he was disappointed in your decision.
Could this be more?
The sting in your chest seemed to tug at you with this thought. “I’ll see you around Hunter.” You turned away and started to leave.
Maybe.
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lin-nin · 4 years ago
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Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 7
Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader
Plot:  You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a   desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer:   Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it?
Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer:   Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.
--
Chapter 7: Unmasked < | Previous Chapter
The next morning had rolled around far too quickly for your liking. Part of you ached to just stay curled up in your bed, where there wasn’t some wild unknown waiting for you. Where there was something familiar. All you would have beyond yourself that was familiar was Techno. Who wasn’t all that familiar, truth be told. Definitely not a complete stranger, but not much better.
You practically drug your feet as you got out of bed, staring longingly at your surroundings. Would you ever return to this room? Maybe if you were visiting, but this wasn’t your room anymore. It left you feeling almost hollow. Reluctancy plagued your every movement, even as you dressed. Your dagger fell comfortably against your hip once more as you tightened the belt around your waist. It was still unfamiliar, but not unwelcome. It was something safe. You needed that right now.
All too soon, your melancholic peace was interrupted by a few of the servants bustling in to collect your belongings. You softly told them to ensure that the blanket would be in the carriage with you during the ride, so it could be accessed. Another little comfort for you. Who knew how awkward the trip would be. You knew good and well you weren’t good at holding a conversation with Techno.
You had slipped out of the room, head swimming in various thoughts and scenarios. Despite Techno’s reassurances the other day that you would manage fine, and his kingdom wasn’t bad, you had your doubts. Your own fears. 
“Don’t look so down,” George’s voice called from beside you, making your head snap up. What was with people sneaking up on you first thing in the morning? You sighed, rolling your shoulders a little.
“It’s hard not to. It’s exciting, but at the same time it’s terrifying. I’m leaving everything and everyone that I know and love.” You gazed in front of you, as if trying to memorize every brick that lined the walls. How different would your new home be from your old one?
“I think you’ll be just fine. I’m sure there’s plenty of friends to make there.” George was trying his best to reassure you, and you could only offer a weak smile. You hoped he was right. Perhaps there were friends to be made in Techno’s brothers. You wouldn’t truly know until you met them, though.
“Hopefully,” You murmured. You took a deep breath as you walked into the dining hall with your brother, settling into your usual spot. For the last time. These thoughts were extremely frustrating, but there wasn’t more to be done about them. They wouldn’t be soothed. They were likely normal, but that made it hard to keep them tamped down.
Breakfast was simultaneously slow and far too fast. You were swamped with thoughts the whole time, hardly responding to anyone. It was a struggle on how to feel. You exchanged a couple greetings with Dream and Techno, but neither seemed to push you for more conversation. Which was greatly appreciated. Even as you slid out of your seat, you felt almost despondent. 
You stood on the steps of the castle, staring at the carriages that awaited you. The carriage that would take you away from home. Even though you were technically going to a new home, it hardly felt like that. Truthfully, nothing could have prepared you for the emotions that came with something like this.
“Are you ready?” Techno’s voice rang beside you, and you nodded numbly. He nodded slightly, moving towards one of the carriages to climb inside, the door propped open. You stepped down the stairs, glancing over your shoulder. Dream and George were just behind you, with the latter offering a soft and encouraging smile.
“You’ll be fine, just don’t forget to write to me,” George said. Always reminding you to not forget. You nodded, letting him hug you just as he did last night.
“Make sure you take good care of our kingdom, okay?” You murmured. You knew this wasn’t a goodbye forever, but it felt like it would be a long while before you saw him again. You weren’t even sure when the wedding would be, but you knew he would be there.
“Always. They’ll be calmer without you causing problems all the time.” He gave your hair an affectionate ruffle as he stepped away. Dream didn’t waste his time in stepping in next. He wrapped you up in a bone-crushingly tight hug, chin resting atop your head.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” He murmured quietly, voice low. You sighed, clinging onto him just a little.
“I have to, Dream. You know that,” You whispered, eyes closed. When would the next time be that you got to hug him like this? 
“I know, but I can still hope. I really don’t want you to leave. I’d do anything if it would change your mind and get you to stay.” You breathed a soft laugh, head shaking.
“If only it were that easy. You’ll see me again. It just won’t be daily.” You began to peel yourself away from him, glancing up at his face. He seemed so conflicted and upset, brow furrowed. One hand cradled your cheek for a few moments, thumb brushing your cheekbone.
“Just take care of yourself. This isn’t the end of all of this,” he reassured. You nodded and smiled, leaning briefly into his hand before it fell to his side. With that out of the way, you finally stepped back, taking a few moments to watch the two of them before turning to retreat to your carriage. 
Techno stood from where he had been sitting inside of it, holding out a hand to help hoist you up. You took it, grasping the frame of the door as you stepped up into the carriage. As you did, he looked behind you with narrowed eyes. You followed the gaze as you moved to settle into your seat. Dream was at the other end of it, returning the stare with an almost venomous glare. What was their problem? They’d been this way the entire time.
Techno closed the door to the carriage and sat down across from you, leaving you to sigh. You could still peer out of the window, though you didn’t particularly care to right now. It’d only worsen your mood, probably.
“I was beginning to wonder if you only wore dresses,” Techno finally broke the silence, causing your focus to shift from your thoughts to him instead. You glanced towards your attire, completely forgetting you had forgone a dress for today. You didn’t like traveling in them, and there was no telling how long the trip would take. It had been in your best interest to wear the pants.
“Of course. I just don’t often do things that warrant me needing to wear pants.” You shrugged a little bit. You settled back against the cushions, making a face as the carriage lurched. You rarely did travel like this, so it would definitely be interesting. Or potentially very boring.
“You were really restricted here, weren’t you? You’ll have more opportunity to wear them here. Far more convenient and useful than a dress.” You raised an eyebrow at him. Was he really criticizing you on how convenient your fashion was?
“Are you really one to criticize fashion? You walk around wearing a boar skull that you can hardly see out of.” You fired back. A huff of laughter escaped him at that, hand lifting to close the curtains to the windows.
“I don’t normally wear it. Only in foreign lands or for extremely ceremonial proceedings,” He began nonchalantly. He reached up behind his head, fiddling for a few moments with something.
“You really don’t have to-” You had begun to object, though he only laughed.
“You’re gonna be seeing me without it sooner or later. Might as well start now. Besides, it isn’t exactly comfortable.” Carefully, he pulled the skull away from his face and you couldn’t help the interest coursing through you as his face was finally revealed. There was a lot to take in, and you weren’t exactly sure where to focus first. The three jagged scars on the right side of his jaw were much easier to see now, stopping at about the middle of his cheek. The bridge of his nose had a second scar across it, heading towards his eyebrow. This one looked much cleaner. Like it was done by a sword, whereas the others appeared to be done by an animal. Those were the most distinguishing things you could see, though there were hints of bags under his eyes. Beyond that, he was normal. Attractive, but normal.
“What happened?” You murmured curiously, unable to stop yourself. It was a touch easier to read his expressions now, and you were honestly glad for that. He seemed to contemplate the question for a few moments, settling the skull beside him.
“These were from a hunting accident as a child. They’re from the same boar whose skull I wear,” he explained, fingers tapping at the jagged lines along his jaw. You couldn't help but grimace a little.
"Have you been wearing it since then?" You nodded towards the skull, and he laughed again. An actual laugh- not the muted huff that was barely audible.
"No, I didn't start wearing it until a couple years ago. For a while it was just a… revenge trophy, of sorts. This one here," he motioned towards his nose, "Is from a duel with Wilbur." You could only blink. That one looked newer, so you can only imagine it had taken place in perhaps the last 5 years. Wilbur was that brother of his, wasn't he?
"You fight your brothers?" You were full of so many different questions. There was a lot to be answered, though. With every little detail he revealed, it brought about a new perplexity to him.
"Not on a normal basis, and not usually aggressive. We'll spar every now and then, but this was a one time thing." He didn't elaborate further for several moments, as if trying to figure out how to word what he wanted to say. What had called for an actual duel between them? "Tradition has it that if two princes have strife between them on who should be next in line for the throne, they duel. The duel runs until either one dies or concedes."
You stared at him, struggling to wrap your head around the concept. "Would you… would you have killed him?" You managed out. The question made him sigh, brows furrowing as he looked to the side.
"I don't know. I didn't want to kill him, no. He conceded before we could figure out the answer, though. I'm thankful he did, though." His voice was soft, but tinged with the faintest traces of affection. Okay, he wasn't as terrifying as he had briefly seemed. He at least cared for his family. You could deal with that.
"Being king one day was important to you, then?" You arched an eyebrow. The idea of being Queen had never crossed your mind. It had never been a plan, or a possibility. Not until recently, at least. Before that you had been just content to live your life, however it was thrown at you. Life had some strange workings, though. You were quickly discovering that.
"Yes. It felt like the natural path for me." He shrugged as he spoke and you simply nodded. Silence stretched in the carriage for an amount of time, though it was hardly uncomfortable. Every now and then you glanced towards Techno’s face, still trying to adjust to the lack of skull. Without it there, it was much easier to peer at the various gold studs and chains adorning his ears. He really didn't hold back on how ostentatious he was.
"I thought you weren't allowed to have weapons? At least not where Dream was concerned." You slid your gaze to his, where he nodded towards the dagger on your hip. You had nearly forgotten it was there.
"He doesn't want me to have any. It was a gift from the smith, he couldn't deny me it." You ran your fingers over the designs on the grip, carefully tracing one of the flowers.
"Can I see it?" He leaned forwards, elbows propping onto his knees. You pulled it from its sheath, carefully giving it to him. He held it in his hands, staring at it for a few moments. He shifted it closer and further from his face a few time until a huff escaped him. He sat it beside him, reaching for a pouch against his belt. You blinked a little as he pulled out a rather delicate pair of golden glasses.
He… had to wear glasses? Yet he still wore a stupid skull that prevented him from wearing them? Sacrificing his sight for looks. How ridiculous. You watched him settle them onto his nose, picking up the dagger once more.
"It's well made," he started and flipped it over. He pressed a finger to the tip to test the sharpness, though pulled it back before you could protest to the action. "Sharp, well balanced. Very ornamental but functional. I think its a fitting first weapon for you." He praised the knife, moving the pricked finger to his mouth. The other hand held it out towards you to take back and sheath. Which you did rather carefully. The last thing you wanted was to hurt either of you.
"You'll teach me to use it?" You questioned, trying to squash the excitement in your voice.
"They're pretty straightforward, but yes." A smile curved his lips, finger leaving his mouth. Excitement sparkled in your eyes, and it took a lot to not give a victorious little squeal. You had at least won some small battle.
---
George focal point
George stood beside Dream for several moments, watching the carriages holding his sister pull off. It was a bittersweet moment, truthfully, but he was happy for her. He had full reason to believe she would be happy there. She would flourish like she was meant to, in ways she had never truly been allowed to here. Not when she was in the presence of Dream, who was ever protective of her.
Speaking of the blonde, he turned to look at him, curiosity in his gaze. "Did you ever tell her?" He questioned, making the younger turn his attention to him instead of where his sister had disappeared.
He was silent for several heartbeats, lips pursed. "No." The words were plain, and flat. It caused George to sigh, rubbing his cheek in frustration.
"Are you okay with that? Her not knowing?"
"I have to be, don't I? Next time I see her she'll be getting married." He was bitter. So bitter, yet he had done it to himself. He had no one to blame, except for himself. Not that George dared to tell him this.
"You can always tell her, if it makes you feel better. It won't change anything, but it might save you. She doesn't catch onto hints, Dream." He turned, walking back towards the castle. He didn't need to look back to know Dream was following. He always did when he was the only option he had.
"How would it make me feel better? How would anything make me feel better?" 
"Don't be so dramatic, Dream. You know getting it out in the open will help. You'll be able to move on." Even now, George couldn't help but find the irony of Dream’s reluctance to say anything flat out, even if the only company he had was him and he already knew.
"I don't need to move on. She might have to come back." Stubborn ass. George shook his head with a sigh.
"Suit yourself. I won't force your words out. I can only recommend it." Forcing Dream to admit what they had both known for years wouldn't accomplish anything. It would only upset him, and he was too volatile currently to upset.
Next Chapter | >
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junko-and-riri-domain · 4 years ago
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❦ home | ni-ki
↬ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:  nishimura riki / ni-ki x reader ↬ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: fluff | friends to lovers | requested ↬ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: none ↬ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.9k oops ↬ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛᴇᴅ ʙʏ: @onionhaseyeo  ↬ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: 
request was ni-ki fluff with a best friends to lovers storyline
i sorta wrote this in the car while I was out lol not sure if this is what you wanted but I hope you like it 💞(sorry if some parts are cringy 😭)
for those who read the tatts & cupcakes series the next chapter will (probably) come either later this week or early next week! since spring break is coming up next week i'm hoping to be able to spend more time writing :)
Entering what was now your 1st grade class, slight fear settled in the pit of your stomach since you were now the new kid at a new school. As your eyes landed on a certain brown-haired boy in the corner of the room, your fear disappeared slightly. He sat alone focused on his Nintendo Switch. Letting go of your mom’s hand, she called out your name but you practically ran to the boy. Merely looking at him gave you a sort of happiness that you’ve only felt whenever your favorite food was made for dinner.
Annoyance settled within Ni-ki as a face popped into his line of sight, distracting him from his game. Everyone in class knew better than to bother him. His eyes settled on you with a gaze that made you squeak and jump back slightly. He didn’t expect to see someone so… he wasn’t quite sure what the word was yet. Why did looking at you make him feel similar to the happiness he felt dancing? Instead of ignoring you, he took out the blue controller of his Nintendo Switch, silently handing it to you. You took the controller, fingers brushing against each other but too young to realize what the sparks meant.
“I don’t know how to play,” you said.
“I’ll teach you,” he answered. Going home that same day, you found out that you lived next door to each other.
In 4th grade, Ni-ki discovered that when he climbed the tree in his backyard, he was able to get to your room window without having to leave the house through the front door. It became a sort of “thing” between you. Your window was always unlocked, an invitation for him to come inside whenever he wanted. At 2 am one Saturday morning, you woke up from your sleep because of the sounds from your window opening. Sleepily, you lifted up your head to be met with Ni-ki. The moonlight shining on him with his hair all ruffled made you feel giddy inside.
“Did I wake you up?” he asked. With a slight roll of your eyes,
“No, you weren’t being loud at all.”
“I can’t sleep.”
“So you decided to make me not sleep?”
“It’s cold in my room.”
“It’s cold in my room too?”
“Let’s sleep together.”
It could’ve been that you were too tired to tell Ni-ki to get out.
Or it was because you were too cold and Ni-ki was shivering.
Whatever it is that it was, you moved to the other side of your bed, making space for him. He settled in, slight heat rushing to his cheeks as his head laid on one of your pillows. While the two of you have hugged and held hands, this was something different and both of your hearts were pounding in your ears. You fell asleep first, Ni-ki looking at you, breath slightly caught in his throat. Once again, there was the same feeling from when he first met you. Yet still, he didn’t know what it was nor the proper words to label it. Sharing the same bed because a source of comfort between you as Ni-ki realized that the feelings he couldn’t express in words, he could express through the sparks.
Towards the beginning of middle school, you started going to Ni-ki’s dance studio almost every day. You would watch him perform dances before any of his covers were uploaded online, your eyes were the first to witness Nishimura Riki in his element. He couldn’t deny how he loved the way your eyes lit up whenever he performed or how you’d clap and shout his name in support.
“Y/n-ah,” you heard as he sat next to you, taking a swig of water.
“Huh?” You looked at him, noting how his hair stuck to his forehead. Knowing that he didn’t like that feeling, you brought your hand up to his hair, fixing it for him.
Maybe it was because he was out of breath and his heart was already racing.
Maybe it was because your face was so close to his that the only thing he was able to focus on was you.
Maybe it was because your legs were touching since he always liked sitting as close to you as possible.
Whatever it was, there was that feeling again. And still, he couldn’t label it.
“What is it?” you asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat,
“I’m gonna be an idol one day. When I become one, I want you to be in the front row of my concert.”
“You think we’re still gonna be besties when that happens?” you teased. He rolled his eyes,
“Obviously.”
Throughout middle school, Ni-ki unsurprisingly became popular with everyone. Most of the girls were captivated by how well he danced while the guys wanted to be him. He didn’t care, only sticking with you for the most part. You would eat lunch together at a hidden spot behind the back of the school that only you knew. In 7th grade,
“Ni-ki,” you said as you looked up at the sky, the blue color filling your view. It was nearing spring, the flowers were in bloom, and you found yourself wondering something.
“Yeah?” he replied, stealing one of your potstickers as if you didn’t save it for him.
“Jisoo-unnie told me she kissed Sean-oppa, and she said she didn’t like it. They’re gonna break up soon,” you said, referring to some kids in your class. The two were a “thing” together and while you knew what dating entailed, you’ve never experienced it yourself.
“And I care why?” You were nervous at what you were about to say but you weren’t going to back out now. Looking at him, slightly tilting your head,
“Do you wanna kiss me?” you asked. He choked on the potsticker, causing you to pat his back and give him water.
“Yah, is kissing me that bad?” you muttered to yourself.
“W-why?” he asked, unable to help himself from stuttering. With a shrug,
“I think I’d like it… if my first kiss was you.” You expected Ni-ki to tell you off. Or just flat-out leave. But instead, he leaned forward and as if it were instinct, your eyes fluttered shut. It lasted for a second, perhaps even less, but in that short time the sparks you felt whenever you were around Ni-ki intensified.
“There, we did it.” Your eyes widened as you looked at him, heat rushing to your cheeks despite the seemingly insignificant action. There it was again, that feeling that he just couldn’t name.
Ni-ki came into your room through the window at 3 in the morning to be met with the sound of your muffled sniffles and hated that he was the reason for it. He settled into bed with you,
“Get out you traitor,” you muttered. He sighed,
“I’m sorry, y/n-ah.”
“You’re really gonna leave tomorrow?”
“Technically, it’s later but-” interrupted by you throwing a pillow at him he let out a slight groan,
“Really?” he asked with a sigh.
“I’m gonna miss you.”
“I’m going to Korea, not dying.” You knew that he was doing it to fulfill his dreams of becoming an idol and you wanted him to. But last week, after seeing him with Lisa as his dance partner for the talent show, a fit of jealousy you’ve never known before settled within you. You didn’t tell him, how could you when you had no reason to be jealous? Instead, you smiled when his eyes met yours as you sat in the audience and clapped when he and Lisa got 1st place.
“Promise me we’ll video call? And that you won’t forget me.” He wiped your tears away with his sleeve,
“Promise me that you won’t go out with Sean?” he asked. Sean had asked you out after the talent show and you told him that you needed to think about it. Ni-ki was furious when he found out using the excuse that “Sean is a jerk” despite knowing damn well that he was jealous. But this wasn’t the time to be jealous because he was going to Korea. You brought up your hand, holding out a pinky. He did the same, both of your pinkies connected,
“I promise,” you said simultaneously.
While Ni-ki was in Korea and you were at home, you’d video chat and send text messages as often as you could. Over time, you started to realize that Ni-ki was starting to want one thing.
“I wanna go home, y/n,” he said one 4 am call.
“Ni-ki, you’ve sacrificed so much, you’re almost there. We believe in you.”
“I won’t be able to talk to you for a while.”
“Why not?”
“I’m going on a survival show called i-land. If I make it to the top 7, I’ll get to debut.”
“YAH, NISHIMURA RIKI WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME EARLIER?” you yelled, causing him to bring move his face away from his phone.
“It just never came up.”
“That’s great! Do your parents know?”
“You’re the first one I told.” That feeling that only Ni-ki seemed to give you whenever he did or said stuff like this made itself known. In the time that Ni-ki was gone, you realized that you missed him more than you should despite being best friends. It wasn’t until you had a talk with his sister that you realized, you had a crush on him.
“I miss you, Ni-ki. And I’ll be rooting for you the whole time.”
As cheers of joy filled your ears, the sound of your heart pounding was the only thing you could hear while what was on the tv screen registered in your head.
Ni-ki. Got. Fourth. Place.
Which meant that he was debuting.
Which meant that he was going to become an idol.
Which meant that his dreams were coming true.
You couldn’t stop the immense pride you felt and the shouts of joy that escaped you. Your best friend was debuting and you had the right to be proud of him.
During enhypen’s first concert, Ni-ki knew that he should’ve been happy. This was him living out his dreams, the same dreams that he spent countless hours up till the am talking to you about. Yet, unlike all those years ago, you weren’t here at his 1st concert. You couldn’t just hop on a plane to Korea due to current restrictions and your own schoolwork.
“What’s wrong?” Jay asked as he placed his hand on the maknae’s shoulder. Ni-ki looked at Jay,
“Y/n’s not here.” Though you weren’t aware of it, the other members knew you. Well, of you since Ni-ki talked about you often.
“Why don’t you call her?” Jay offered as a solution hoping to help in some way.
“Yeah, I will,” Ni-ki said.
Your phone rang and upon seeing the contact name, you answered it.
“You’re supposed to be performing, why haven’t you started yet?” you asked.
“How’d you know?” you smiled then changed the camera view to show your laptop,
“I’m streaming, dummy.”
“Illegally?” he asked.
“No comment.”
“Yah, you’ll get in trouble!”
“Good thing you’re on my side, yeah?”
“I wish you were here.”
“I am, just look at the camera and pretend it’s me.”
“It’s not the same.”
“I know, I miss you too,” you said with a sigh. Ni-ki heard his name being called,
“I gotta go.”
“Good luck and have fun!” you managed to say before the call ended.
At your high school graduation, you walked around looking for your family frantically texting Ni-ki’s sister asking where she was. It wasn’t until you crashed into what felt like a wall that you looked up, your hand rubbing your forehead. As your eyes met the man in front of you,
“Ni-ki?” He smiled, that feeling that he still couldn’t pinpoint after all these years infecting him once again.
“That’s all you have to say?” your arms wrapped around the now much taller boy instantly, practically jumping onto him which caused him to have to carry you like a baby koala.
“It’s been a year since we’ve last seen each other in person!” you muttered, your face resting in the crook of his neck, missing his scent.
“I literally FaceTimed you last night, you’re being so extra.”
“As if you’re not?” you countered.
“Only for you,” he said with a light chuckle.
“Wait, I’m heading to Korea in a few days, why are you here?”
“I couldn’t miss your graduation. I’m only here for a few hours before I have to head back.” He set you down though his arms stayed lingering on your waist.
“You spent money on a ticket just to be here for a few hours then to head back tonight?” your heart warmed at Ni-ki’s actions and you couldn’t hold back your smile.
“I know, I’m extra.” Just then,
“Babe!” you heard. You turned your head to be met with Sean, having forgotten him with Ni-ki here. You told Ni-ki of your current 2 month relationship and he was all for it, wanting you to be happy. At least, you thought so. Well, he did want you to be happy. He just preferred it if you were happier with him.
You landed in Korea a few days after graduation. Timing seemed to work out for you and Ni-ki since enhypen’s dorm was getting renovated, he needed a place to move to. Despite being offered to share a temporary apartment with Sunoo, he opted to get one with you instead. You were thankful for it, happy to be back with Ni-ki, and excited for the 2 of you to hangout like you used to. One particular night, Ni-ki’s practice was running late and you were having a bad day.
“What?” you answered annoyed at Sean’s call. Lately, you were starting to have a strong dislike towards him with how much of a jerk he was like whenever Ni-ki was around.
“Is Ni-ki there?” Sean asked, annoyed.
“Why does that matter?” You didn’t hear the door opening or Ni-ki coming inside.
“Because he’s stuck onto you like a leech.” Ni-ki froze at those words, unsure what to do. Sean wasn’t exactly wrong but you were best friends so it was natural for you to be close, right?
“What the hell do you know?”
“He’s been gone for so long and the first chance you get, you move to where he is. Does that make sense to you? Part of an idol group and can’t even-”
“Like hell, I’m gonna let you say stuff like that about Ni-ki.”
“I can’t even say my opinion?”
“Not when it’s wrong.” Sean scoffed,
“I’m your boyfriend.” The next 2 words that came out of your mouth came as a shock to you, Sean, and Ni-ki.
“Not anymore.” Ending the call and tossing your phone on the bed, you laid in bed looking up at the ceiling. Surprisingly, you didn’t cry. Ni-ki came into your room and laid on the bed with you,
“I heard,” he said.
“You were right all those years ago, Sean is a jerk.”
“What are you gonna do now?”
“What should I do now?”
“Go out with me.”
“On a date?”
“Mhm.”
“Why?”
“Because I asked you out.”
“You’re serious?”
“Mhm.” You weren’t quite sure how to respond since deep down you knew that your crush on Ni-ki never truly faded away. Things were different now and you were no longer kids in grade school who were unaware of what it meant for things like dating to happen.
“This could hurt us.”
“It could.”
“This isn’t funny.”
“I wasn’t joking.”
“Where would we go?”
“Wherever you want.”
“This isn’t how I’ve imagined you asking me out.”
“So, you’ve imagined me asking you out?”
“Shut up, you’re an idol there’s a ton of imagines about you.”
“The only imagines I care about are yours.”
“Fine, I’ll go out with you.”
It was a day just like any other day when Ni-ki realized what exactly the feeling was that made itself known from the first time he saw you up until now. You just reached 10 months of dating, still living together in Korea. You were on the couch trying to do some work when Ni-ki showed up all of a sudden, clearly wanting some cuddles and physical affections. So you put on a movie, grabbed some blankets, and settled in. You were mindlessly running your hand through his hair,
“It’s been so long since I’ve felt like I’m home,” Ni-ki whispered as he looked up at you. His hair was soft, like cotton candy that melted in your mouth at an amusement park.
“With all the cameras surrounding you and being in Korea without your parents so young, it’s only natural for you to be homesick.” He realized that the feeling that appeared from time to time was something that he could now name. Home.
“I’m home with you, y/n,” he whispered.
❦ written by riri | blog masterlist
requests are open! rules can be found here
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morizoras-cave · 4 years ago
Text
Sleepyhead (Request)
MCU cast x gn!teen!co-star!reader, Benedict Cumberbatch x gn!reader
Genre: Angst, fluff
Request Description: Hiya♥️could i please request a teen x marvel cast were they always find her sleeping and taking naps everywhere around set and they confront her about it and she says something about having to take care of her little siblings because her parents are never arohnd do she gets no sleep. Sorry if its to long.❤❤❤❤❤😍🥰
Warnings: irresponsible parents, negligence, slight insecurity, stress
(A/N): sorry this is kind of centered around benedict, i find these mcu cast x reader ones difficult. also im watching a belarusian war-movie from 1985 about the holocaust. its absolutely terrifying (im very serious, i’d be cautious for trigger warnings). if you’re looking for a horror movie or something, search “come and see movie” on youtube and you’ll find the entire thing there (:
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At first, it had been sweet. A testament to the insomniatic youth, if you will. In every closet, behind every door, and on every soft surface, you could be found in between takes, snoring away.
They all agreed you were probably watching movies or playing games up late at night, computer screen illuminating your face. Or maybe you were chatting with your faraway friends. Either way, it was almost endearing to find you drooling on the couches scattered around the set.
Sweet and endearing at first, yes. But then the feelings about it, the longer it went on, the more your mature and well behaved personality clashed with the idea of you staying up all night, the more the feelings about your frequent naps changed.
To the set workers, the coordinators and overseers of the countless tasks on set, it became an issue. 
“Where’s Y/n? We need them for the next scene!” 
More often than not, several people would be running around set in search of you. And of course you apologized profusely when they found and woke you, but it didn’t matter when you never changed.
But to your coworkers, the talented actors and actresses on set of this huge movie production, it was concerning. Because you were their friend, undoubtedly. 
When you would be pulled out a distant break room, rubbing your dark and drowsy eyes, mumblings would start among them. 
“Are they okay?” 
“They just seem so sensible, I don’t understand why they would stay up like that.” 
And then there was you. Young and unfortunate you. Just trying to do your best, trying to please everyone. It was impossible for anyone to know how much you were juggling with. 
You felt like a bird with a broken wing, still flying but bound to fall to its death. You knew it was too much. You knew it was only a matter of time before you broke. 
Most teens felt stressed with just schoolwork, and then there was you. Battling long set days and huge mounts of schoolwork. And then the family.
Your parents that never seemed to be around. They were both working all the time and often left you and your siblings to yourselves. The problems with that was that you were the eldest, and your siblings were too young to take care of themselves. You were the one left to bring home groceries, to make dinner, to bring them to bed, and to help them with any of their schoolwork or difficulties. 
And it was too much. Simply put it was too much for you. You had managed back when you were just another teen at school, but now you were in a movie, you had a JOB.
Usually you’d go to set and work your ass off, get home and help the kids all day, and then do your schoolwork in the night. You almost never got more than an hour or two of sleep, which was why you settled for small naps during your filming sessions. 
You were so stressed, and you wanted to be angry, because in truth you had every right to. But you were too tired and too busy to be angry. Too focused on your siblings and doing good as an actor. But you would never want to involve your coworkers. You thought it would be embarrassing and unprofessional to involve them. So you carried the weight all alone.
“Wake up! Wake up!” 
Someone was shaking you awake. You blinked your eyes open. A redhead set assistant was yelling in your face, grasping your shoulders. 
She stopped when she saw your eyes turning to slits, before widening to look at her. 
“Am I on?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. The lady scoffed.
“Are you on? Yeah, you’re on,” she spat and swung around, heels clicking on the floor, as she exited the break room briskly.
You were ashamed. Of course you were. You were so unprofessional and problematic. But you knew you had no other time to sleep, so this was your only option. The thought made you want to cry. 
Instead, you stood up and walked to where the scene would be filmed, through several hallways and technical rooms, before you arrived to the large set. 
Benedict, Robert, Tom (Holland), Chris (Pratt), Pom, and Dave were all gathered and ready to film. Your face was on fire, so you avoided their gazes, and just got into position to film the next scene. 
Benedict and Robert exchanged glances as you yawned, but before they could talk to you (as it seemed everyone was getting fed up with your constant sleepiness) the director yelled “action”, and the acting resumed. 
You all did the scene and you, surprisingly, did okay for having woken up about five minutes earlier. You continued doing several scenes for the movie all together, going through about three full scenes.
When the director was satisfied, everyone started scattering. You, rubbing your tired eyes, was already beelining for the break room, hoping to see an empty couch for you to crash.
However, before you could sneak off to catch some z’s, you felt a firm hand on your shoulder. You blinked, turning around and gazing at the person who had grabbed your shoulder. It was Benedict, Robert, Tom and Chris not fat behind him. He had a stern look on his face. 
“Y/n, we need to talk.”
“Yeah, sure, what’s up?” your tone was casual, or perhaps too exhausted to express any real emotion, but inside you felt your stomach churn with anxiety. 
“Why are you always sleeping?” Robert chimed in. 
“Yeah, because if you’re up watching Youtube or whatever, you probably shouldn’t!” Tom said.
“Not that we’re assuming that that’s what you’re doing! It’s just- You know..,” Chris explained, voice full of panic.
You smiled softly. You recognized that they were coming from a place of worry. Then, your heart sunk slightly. You could cry. Again. Over the thought of your lack of time and your endless responsibilities. 
“It’s nothing serious, it’s just..” you trailed off, trying to figure out how you could make it sound less sad. Things always sounded worse when spoken out loud, you found. “I have two siblings, and my parents are never around, so I’m kind of the person taking care of them.” 
Your coworkers in front of you fell silent. You could see it on their faces. They didn’t like it. 
“You?” Robert said finally, and you just nodded. 
“So, you’re doing a movie, doing school, and taking care of your siblings at the same time?” Benedict repeated slowly, and once again you just nodded. There was nothing more to say. 
“Why aren’t your parents there?” Chris asked in his serious-unserious voice. 
“They’re working a lot,” you mumbled, disliking the collective attention on you. The thought of the couch made you yearn for some rest. You could tell that there were many things they wanted to do in that moment. They wanted to fix it all. 
“Can’t you tell them you don’t have time?” 
“I’ve tried that already. They say they don’t have a choice,” to this, both Robert and Benedict scoffed and shook their heads. You just watched with heavy eyes. 
“Alright. Here’s what’s going to happen,” Benedict said quietly, eyes boring into yours, “I’m going to call a nanny to look after your siblings for a couple of days, don’t worry I’ll pay. You’re going to back to the hotel and sleep for at least 10 hours. When you’ve done that, and only when you’ve done that, will we talk about how we’ll move forward with your parents.” 
You were quiet. You couldn’t stand up to your parents like Benedict wanted you to. You just couldn’t. They were busy and that was understandable. 
Although, you had to admit, the thought of sleeping for 10 hours was enticing. Heck, worst case scenario, you could settle for 5! Your tiredness was like heavy cuffs and chains on your body, and Benedict stood with the shining, golden key right in front of you. 
“Benedict, I- I can’t do that to my parents-”
“No, your parents can’t do this to you! This is absolutely outrageous!” He was frustrated you could tell. Robert seemed upset too, while Tom and Chris stepped back and let the adults handle it. Though, they seemed sad for you. 
You went quiet. 
“I just-” 
“I don’t want to hear another word about how they’re somehow excused for their behavior. This is negligence, Y/n! This is too much for you and you know it! You’re exhausted and it’s so painful to see, so please. Just take me up on this.”
You sighed.
“Alright, then.” you said, body finally giving in to the attractive offer. Benedict’s face carried the ghost of a satisfied smile, before going back to the stone cold determination. 
You drove to the hotel in Robert’s car and they booked you an extra room, knowing that your siblings occupied the other one. As soon as you could fall back on the bed, you were gone, body screaming for rest. 
You woke up 14 hours later, feeling happier, brighter and well-rested. That feeling had been forgotten by you, but it was alright, you decided. Every inch of you blossomed with energy now. 
As promised, Benedict had ordered a nanny for your siblings (the nanny was a lovely human being, and simply amazing with kids). Benedict, Robert, Chris and Tom has split the bill. 
You called him when you woke up, and he dragged you to a restaurant, where the two of you had a long, long talk about why what your parents were doing was serious and unacceptable. He could tell he needed to explain it to you, because you, like many children, were ready to defend your parents’ at all costs. 
Needless to say, after Benedict’s advice you didn’t have to go through that kind of thing again. You settled it with your parents (as well as your siblings), and after that you were so grateful that Benedict helped you out of that responsibility, because it wasn’t yours to have. 
Benedict was just happy to help, the memory of seeing you sleep everywhere, now less endearing and simply painful. He didn’t like thinking about it, and so he tried not to, but rather focused on your laughter and bright smile. In truth, that’s the only thing that really mattered. 
___________________________
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