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dustofbrokenheart · 3 years ago

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The Covenant: Gains

Poly Sons of Ipswich x Reader

Word Count: 2,802

Summary: Trying to take advantage of their gym membership, reader starts working with a devastatingly attractive personal trainer. And his friend is pretty hot, too.

The gym was still new for you but you had been coming consistently enough that you felt comfortable there. You knew what times equipment would be available and what times the crowds would be too much (week days 3-5:30 was like competing in the Hunger Games.)

Cardio always came before strength exercises because your muscles would be too fatigued otherwise.

And on Tuesdays and Saturdays they played your favorite music on the loud speakers so you didn’t have to bother with headphones on those days.

Still, you weren’t an expert by any means.

In fact, you were still hesitant to call yourself a gym-goer because you’d seen the workouts other people did and you definitely weren’t doing that. There was no strategy, you just did what you felt like doing on any given day. You were impressed by their discipline though.

Maybe, most likely, it would benefit you to incorporate some of that into your own routine.

The gym had a personal trainer program and you figured that would be the best bet—much easier than trying to figure it out on your own.

Poking around the website, you found the section that explained the process. The design was modern and intuitive, and it was easy to book an appointment: the only information you needed to provide was your name, the date/time, and what trainer you wanted.

The first two things were easy to fill out but the last had you a little stumped; you weren’t familiar enough with any of the trainers to request anyone by name even with the drop-down menu that listed out all of the choices. For a second, you were tempted to forget about the whole thing but luckily, there was an option for ‘no preference’ and anxiety levels dropped off as you selected it.

Appointment booked, you went on with the rest of your night, focus shifting to what sounded good to eat for dinner.

A week later, you found yourself in the gym’s front lobby, arms crossed and foot tapping. Since it was the first time, there was no harm in arriving early. The directions on the website had said to wait there for the trainer but so far there was no sign of them. Granted, there was still five minutes until the scheduled start so it would be unfair to start complaining about them just yet.

Rolling your neck to alleviate some of the tension, you paused mid-stretch, neck awkwardly craned like a gaggling turkey, when a man walked out. He was without a doubt the most attractive man you’d seen at the gym to date.

Thick dark hair that curled just above his ears. Warm brown eyes and an even warmer smile. Tanned skin that wrapped around arms that had just the right amount muscle: toned but not bulky. All in all, a good looking man.

You tracked him as he glanced around the area, looking for something—his eyes suddenly met yours and you straightened up in embarrassment—or someone. “Y/N?” he questioned.

You throat was so dry, it was painful to swallow. “That’s me.”

It didn’t seem possible but his smile grew even brighter. He stuck his hand out. “Nice to meet you. I’m Caleb and I’ll be your trainer today.”

Good karma most certainly at work here. How else could you explain being lucky enough to have the hottest guy in the gym be the trainer? Whatever the case, you weren’t going to look this particular gift horse in the mouth.

He gestured you forward with a wave of his hand and followed you to the main workout area. There was slight pressure to staying cool and collected with him behind you.

“I’m going to start you off with some jogging to warm-up. Do you want to use the track or hop on a treadmill?”

“Treadmill is fine. It’s what I normally use.”

You stepped up onto the belt and fiddled with the settings to establish a pace you felt comfortable with. The machine started up with a loud hum and your arms and legs began to pump. Normally, you’d have your earphones in to distract yourself with music but they weren’t that day so that you could hear Caleb if he said anything to you.

Good thinking, really, since he did indeed start chatting.

“So how long have you been a member?” he asked.

Determined not to sound steady, you took a few moments to normalize your breathing. “About two months. But this is the first time I’ve worked with a professional,” you added at the end.

It was hard to hear his laugh over the treadmill but the hitching of his shoulders gave him away. “Thanks, but I’m not really a professional. I just have a training certification is all.”

Huh. Attractive and humble. If you weren’t careful, you’d develop a full-blown crush in no time.

“A certification sounds professional to me,” you insisted. There. That wasn’t flirty at all. You were merely sharing an opinion.

Jogging passed by faster than it usually did even without music. Evidently, all that was needed to make a run enjoyable was good conversation and an even better view.

You powered off the treadmill and gradually transitioned to a walk and then a full stop. A single bead of sweat trailed down the side of your face but before you could wipe it away, only to stumble after being patted on the back by Caleb.

Those muscles were not just for show.

You had mixed feelings about him giving you props for completing the warm up. On one hand, you were a little insulted because even you could handle jogging for ten minutes. On the other, it was nice to have him flatter you. And he seemed to type to mean his compliments.

“Thanks,” you said almost like a question as you plopped down to stretch.

“Really,” he insisted. There wasn’t any level of patronizing tone that you could detect. “You’d be surprised by how many people I work with that complain about running.”

“Really?” you exclaimed with surprise. “I wouldn’t say I love running but it’s not terrible. Better than swimming anyway.”

“Whoa, now. I’ll have you know that I was a big swimmer in high school.”

The friendly banter about the woes, or in his case, the highs of swimming got you through the stretches he showed you. Occasionally, there would be a pause while he corrected your posture but once you fixed your position, the banter started up again.

Finally, you conceded, “I will admit that swimming did wonders for your shoulders though.”

He looked away with a bow of his head. He smiled but it was closed lipped, no teeth on display. Oops. That comment may have been a bit too forward. Rather than draw more attention to it, you diverted attention to the actual work out.

Seeming to be of the same mind, Caleb dropped it, too, and set you up at a weight bench. He must’ve have seen the doubt on your face.

“Don’t worry,” he assured. “I’m not going to have you squatting 300 pounds or anything crazy. Here. Take this and we’ll start with some dumb bell rows.”

He handed you a twenty-pound weight, the smooth metal cool against your palm. The weight was noticeable but not so heavy you struggled to hold it. A month or two of this and your arms would actually tone out pretty nice.

You peered subtly at Caleb behind you. You wouldn’t be at Caleb’s level, not just after a couple weeks but then again, you doubted most people could measure up to him even after working out everyday for a year straight.

Someone people had all the good genes.

You could’ve complained but found it much more enjoyable to appreciate the good view. In fact, it was the view that got you through the rest of the season.

“Thanks,” you panted around the mouth of your water bottle. A bead of sweat ran down your neck and you reached to wipe it off.

“You did great, really,” he said, the epitome of what a good trainer should sound like. “The scariest step is always to start so signing up for additional personal training will be a piece of cake.”

“Y-yeah.” Suddenly, your shoe laces fascinated you. “So…if I want to do that—more of this...do I choose you on from that list of trainers?”

“Sure thing. Or if you’d prefer to try someone else, all of the trainers are fantastic choices.”

“I think I’ll stick with you. As long as that’s not weird or anything…”

“Nope, not weird.”

You worked up the courage to look him in the eyes. Swirling irises of molten brown, you couldn’t help but be drawn into them. “Same time next week then?”

“Same time next week,” he agreed with a nod.

***

It had been a little over a month since you had started working with Caleb at the gym and what had started as one personal training session a week had turned into two, sometimes three. Improvement was happening steadily and you definitely felt a difference in your stamina.

Strangely enough, you were even proud of the small callouses that were starting to develop on the tops of your palms, under the fingers. They weren’t classically beautiful but at least you had proof of the work you were doing.

Having worked up the confidence, you’d also started doing some of the exercises Caleb showed you on your own. It was on one such day that you met him.

Another gym babe.

The first thing you noticed was his ass. Literally. He was in prime squat position and his short, though knee length and loose as they may be, could not hide his toned glutes.

You were embarrassed to admit that you were totally ogling him, like a dog looked at a prime cut of meat. You didn’t get star struck often, but damn.

The universe must have sought to punish you for the lack of propriety and your mp3 slipped through your sweaty fingers onto the moving treadmill, yanking the earphones out of your ears along with it as it flew backwards on the conveyor belt.

Recovering from the stumble your mp3 caused, you turned off the machine and gingerly picked out the music player, preparing for the worst.

Miraculously, the screen was still in tact and sounds was still coming through the earphones. You took another sigh of relief when you realized he was preoccupied by his own workout and hadn’t seen your embarrassing moment.

Something similar happened the next time you saw him a few days later: he was cooling down after having thoroughly trounced the heavy bag in the small boxing set-up the gym had. His arms looked so good in his cut-off tank (muscles and veins were all on display) that you froze with your mouth hanging wide open.

Another gym-goer did catch you that time but at least it wasn’t the god sculpted from marble.

You almost felt bad, like you were cheating on one of your crush’s with another which was ridiculous because Caleb was just a trainer and you didn’t even know the other one’s name.

Who knew that so much drama could happen in the confines of a simple neighborhood gym? Seriously, The Bachelor wished it could have as many good options as the gym seemed to.

***

You huffed as you pushed yourself up on increasing shaky arms. For a few seconds, you honestly didn’t think you’d be able to do it as your arms got stuck at a forty-five degree angle. Digging deep down, you managed to fully extend your arms.

“Nine,” Caleb counted. He was kneeling besides you on the yoga mat, counting, and adjusting your form here and there, while you did push-ups

Rather than descend slowly as was proper for push-ups, you collapsed to the mat with your arms squished underneath your chest. Rolled your head, you gave him your best pleading eyes and hoped he might take mercy.

That hope was misplaced. He gave a sympathetic smile and shook his head negatively. “Sorry, Y/N. We agreed on ten and by my count, you still have one more to go.”

“Can I not and say that I did?”

“Come on now. It’s only one more.” He waved his hands around like he was waving imaginary pom-poms. “You can do it!”

You managed a weak laugh. There was no way you could’ve say no. Your arms felt like they were burning but he looked adorable trying to be a cheerleader. An unbidden image of him wearing a cute male cheerleading uniform flashed in your mind and you thought he would pull one off well, what with his wide shoulders and sculpted legs.

Imagination got you through the last push-up and you groaned as you turned over on the mat, spread out like a star fish. “That was absolute torture.”

Caleb opened his mouth but was interrupted by a newcomer.

“Geez, man. You need to take it easier on your clients.”

Recognizing the voice, you found the other gym guy you’d been eyeing standing above you.

“Pogue.” Caleb held his fist out to the man who in turned bumped his with the trainer’s. Evidently, they knew each other.

Then they embraced in a full-on hug.

Okay, so they definitely knew each other. And it was hard to miss the parting caress to Pogue’s shoulders—what kind of name was Pogue anyway?—that was generally reserved for two people that were close.

Were they related? Dating, perhaps?

Your imagination fired up again and you wondered what they would look like wrapped even more intimately with one another…which was entirely despicable, you reminded yourself. There was no proof they were romantically involved, and, even if they were, it was none of your business.

The other two, who had been talking while you were maladaptively fantasizing, had continued talking and their conversation now turned to you.

“So who’s this?” Pogue questioned politely.

“This is Y/N,” Caleb introduce you. “They’re one of the people I work with.”

Pogue stuck his hand out to shake. “Nice to meet you. I’m glad Caleb hasn’t killed you off yet.”

“Hey! I am extremely fair with workouts, aren’t I, Y/N?”

“He is,” you said with a small smile, rocking on your feet. “Besides, he way too nice to ever become a drill sergeant.”

Pogue shoved Caleb lightly and Caleb elbowed him in return. “I know he doesn’t look like the type, but he was quite the drill sergeant back when we were both swimmers. He just hides the competitive instinct under his charming smiles.”

That peaked your curiosity. “No way, you guys swam together back in the day?”

“Spencer Academy was state champs three years running in our time,” Caleb admitted. “But nowadays I do my thing with personal training and Pogue more into MMA.”

“MMA?” you questioned.

“Mixed Martial Arts,” Caleb supplied. “You’ve probably seen him hogging the punching bags in the back.”

You most certainly had but you weren’t about to confess that to either of them. It would be too embarrassing and might even toe the line of harassment.

“You are more than welcome to share bags with me, any time,” Pogue grinned teasingly.

A thought hit and flowed out of your mouth before you could stop it. “You guys should give me a lesson sometime.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you were interested in that sort of thing,” Caleb said, surprise coloring his voice.

“Are you saying that you don’t think I can?” You weren’t sure what made you say it. It’s not like you were hardcore dedicated to trying it.

Whatever the cause it had Pogue chiming in save the situation.

“What prince charming means is that we would love to give a demonstration sometime.”

Caleb down at his watch because of course he still wore one instead of just using his phone like most other people. “Damn. Our hour is up Y/n and I’m late getting my next client. But we can hit the punching bags next time, if you want…?”

“Sure. Uh. Does Wednesday work for you?”

Both of the men nodded and Caleb called over his shoulder as he jogged to the lobby. “It’s a date. Schedule it online and I’ll approve it.”

The word kept replaying over and over. Date. Date. Date, date, date. He probably didn’t even mean it like that but it didn’t stop your heart from fluttering.

Waving goodbye to Pogue wit a promise of seeing him next week, you bounced off to grab your phone from the locker room. There was nothing wrong with scheduling your next session ASAP.

It’s a date.

_______________

Pogue boxing does make a fetching image. Pogue and Caleb in the ring sparring together even more so. Debating whether to make a part 2.

Caleb always seems to be the hardest for me to write so I hope he sounded okay in this. This has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I decided to finally post it.

Thanks for reading!

#the covenant #caleb danvers #pogue parry #caleb danvers x reader #pogue parry x reader #the covenant imagines

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a-supernatural-writer · 4 years ago

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Doing Their Makeup

Poly Lost Boys, Michael and Star x Gender neutral reader

Basically came up with these while I was messaging @aliypop . Thank you for somehow getting me to a place where I wanted to write an imagine about the lost boys, Michael and Star’s partner wanting to do their makeup. XD This is everyone x reader.

Also this is kind of my head-canon that Michael and Star became one happy family with David, Dwayne, Paul and Marko. But Max still died cause I don’t think anyone likes him.

Warnings?: swearing? Cursing?

Masterlist

The second you told your partners that you wanted to do their makeup, each and everyone one of them were down with the idea, but at all different degrees of being okay with it.

Paul was the first one to practically bounce his way over to you. He already needed your help with doing his simple eyeliner on a daily basis so you paying attention to his face for more than a few minutes made him a very happy camper.

Paul LOVES it. I mean it. Give him the whole glam rock look! Glitter? Yes! Winged eyeliner? Yes! Bitch, make him look like a disco ball and he will be very happy. He loves glitter more than any of them and will directly ask you to use as much as you wanted.

When doing his makeup, he always smiles, loving that your attention was solely on him. Though you have to scold him not to smile because the crinkle in his eyes will totally mess up whatever eyeshadow or eyeliner look you're trying to accomplish. He complies… for about two minutes.

This boy will have you straddling him as you work, his hands on your hips, rubbing little circles into your skin softly. He practically becomes putty in your hands as you gently touch his face. He finds it absolutely adorable that you're being so delicate with him.

When you're done, he shows it off to everyone around the cave. His babe of a partner went all out and he will brag that his makeup is going to be better than everyone else's once you are done.

Second would be Marko. Seeing how good you were with Paul, he was excited to see what kind of look you would give him. He wasn’t too much into glitter like his fellow blonde but he was okay if you wanted to use it. Makeup to him was an artistic form of expression so he became your canvas on which to paint on.

Seeing you figure what colors you wanted to give him and what tools you wanted to use would make him smile with how serious you were taking this task. He would ask you as you worked what your ideas were and you thought looked best on him.

Your bodies would be close, not sitting in his lap close, but your legs would be locked together as you sat on your makeshift bed. His hands fiddling with whatever piece of clothing he could get his hands on. It was very hard not to touch you and he wanted you to fulfill your wish for the night.

By the end of it, Marko’s makeup look would have half of the amount of glitter that Paul had. It would be very colorful, almost reflecting the multiple colors of his jacket. Marko was a little easier compared to the others because of those colors, you had more options to work with.

Marko reacted like Paul, showing it off to everyone. Soon him and Paul compared their looks and pointed out what they liked about them.

Dwayne was third. He wasn’t overly into it, but he loves seeing you happy and if doing his makeup was going to put a smile on your face, then he was happy to do it. He did have a few things to say though, he was okay with a little glitter but nowhere near Paul's and heck, maybe even half of what you did to Marko. Also, no colors that were too bright.

From that, you only choose a few warm hues, some reds, oranges and a tiny bit of yellow. Even some earthy tones to complement his tanned skin. In a way you connected it with the jaguar on his leather jacket.

Dwayne would have his hands placed on your thighs as you worked, saying only a few words here and there, asking simple questions if he was curious about something. If anything he was the calmest one of the bunch, not really interrupting your process.

In a way it was nice. While you worked, you didn’t really talk, too focused on the task at hand and he thought it was cute when you would bite your lip in concentration. The silence that sometimes hung between you two was sweet, like you both were in your own little world. Minus the fact that Paul and Marko were just outside your makeshift area in the cave making noise.

When Dwayne was done, he placed a small kiss on your lips and walked out. He didn’t really show off to the others but he couldn’t help but smirk when Paul and Marko grew silent at his new look.

David was the fourth and probably the one that wasn’t overly crazy about it. If he was going to have glitter, it was going to be tasteful and very little of it. Dark colors only, and if you want to stick on gems, guess what, they better be little and it's gotta be sexy. Make him a sexy princely creature of the night and you are good.

For once, he let you have control, even with his requests orders on what you can and cannot do. You went to work, both of your knees touching and you had to constantly stop him from moving, trying to smoke his cigarette. In the end, you lost against him cause if he couldn’t smoke a cigarette to distract himself from your hands being so gentle with him, they were going somewhere else and you would get nothing done.

In between his puffs of smoke, you poured everything into his look wanting it to be perfect because you definitely wanted to do it again in the future. The only way he would let you is if you did a bang up job.

You made his facial features sharp and his icy blue eyes seemed to pierce through your soul even more with the dark eyeshadow on his eyelids. A little bit of glitter and a few small black gemstones later, he was beautiful. Definitely different from what you were used to, but with David, he could pull off anything and he’d still look good.

With a smirk, he thanked you for your work, which surprised you, and walked back out to the others. You chuckled when you heard Paul exclaim “Holy shit!” when he saw David. Needless to say, you did make David look like a prince of the night with your talents.

Second to last was Star. Your beautiful girlfriend of your group of male partners entered your part of the cave, bringing some of her own collection with her. Star was probably the easiest of the group to do makeup for. She already wore red lipstick on the daily and brown toned eyeshadow to compliment her skin but she never went farther than that.

But tonight, she would let you take it a step further. Nothing too crazy, maybe even a little more toned down than David’s.

Star practically cuddled up to you as you worked your magic. It was a little difficult but she stayed still nonetheless. You kept her signature red lipstick, and decided to focus more on her eyes and add some stick on gems that matched the colors of her skirt.

You added a splash of color to her eyes that went well with her usual browns, picking some of her favorite makeup items and mixing them with your own.

Of course you couldn’t help but smile when Star would giggle as the makeup brushes lightly tickled her face. You wanted to scold her for it but it was too cute so you said nothing just having to work around it.

Just as you were finishing, your last partner, Michael walked in, watching you with curiosity and a slight twinge of interest. When you did finish, Star looked to Michael to see what he thought and happily kissed him when he said he liked it. Which in turn having you redo her lipstick one last time before she left, leaving only you and Michael.

Michael was probably the most hesitant of the bunch. It wasn’t that he didn’t dislike makeup, he just didn’t know what the process was and never really saw much interest until you expressed how much you love doing it.

With a little bit of encouragement, Michael sat on your bed, having you sit on his lap. Michael reminded you a little bit of Paul. He was very affectionate but was much softer compared to the blonde.

Michael asked you the most questions as you worked. Asking what tool was used for what purpose. What colors you were using and why. Glitter? Yeah, why not? Just use it however you see fit and what you thought looked good on him.

Overall he was excited about this. New things always intrigued him and he was willing to try something new.

When you told him you were going to give him a more softer look, he had no quarrels with your choice. Just a tiny bit of glitter, some light colors, a sharp eyeliner that could cut someone, accentuating his cheekbones a bit, and even giving him a little bit of gradient lips, made him look even more pretty than he already was.

You were so proud of yourself that couldn’t help but hug the poor boy. You went all out for your partners and you had a lot of fun doing it. When you let him go after hugging him, he was met by a few compliments from the others who admired his own look that seemed very different from everyone else. Which made the poor boy even more flustered.

When all was said and done, and after doing your own makeup to your own tastes with the help of Star since, well, mirrors can’t help any of you. You all went down to the boardwalk as one big group date, showing off your talents proudly, taking any compliments, and giving you credit where credit was due.

If anything was said negatively, especially by a group of surf nazis, guess what? After your group dinner date at the local diner, those surf nazis would be your dessert for the night.

If that did happen, you’d be a little upset that your work was now covered in blood but they all reassured you that you could give them makeovers whenever you wanted.

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bffsoobin · 3 years ago

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➤ soobin x reader, fluff, very slight angst, idiot best friends oblivious to their mutual pining

↳ prompt 33: “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” “Yes.” “What if I just break his nose a little?

requested?: yes

warnings: swearing, mentions of small injury

A/N: I’m sorry if you were expecting more explicit romance but I feel like this prompt worked better as a mutual pining idiots plot. Also apologies if this is lack luster, it’s been a few months since I wrote anything non-academic!

•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:•☾☼☽•:•.•:•.•:•:•:•:•:•:•:••:•.•

You huddle underneath your comically large black umbrella as sheets of torrential rain pound down on it, washing across the pavement below your feet as if following the tide of the ocean. Your sneakers are soaked, squeaking pathetically as you shift your weight from foot to foot and grimace at the feeling of your socks soggy between your toes. Normally you would have been huddled in your dorm room, working on homework from the morning’s classes or watching reruns of Catfish just to grumble about how stupid a person could be.

But your best friend had texted you with a code blue, so you found yourself in the back parking lot of the campus library, enduring the rain that could only mean Noah’s Arc was due to float by any second. Wind whips your hair into your face cruelly and temporarily blinds you, as if mocking you for daring to brave the storm. You can do little more than scrunch your face oddly and shake your head from side to side in a desperate bid to get the locks away from you since there was no way in hell you were taking a hand off of your umbrella just to push your hair back. A car peels into the parking lot just as you clear your vision. It’s a humble silver sedan, a Hyundai of almost 20 years old, with streaks of rust on the back bumper and a sun-faded license plate. Even in the rain you can make out the litany of decals covering the back end, especially your favorite which boasts the term “MILF: Man I Love Frogs” in bold green letters.

There’s no hesitation in your step as you slosh through the rain to yank at the passenger’s side door, jiggling it several times until the telltale click of the unlock allows you to heave it open fully. Suddenly worried about the state of the car-which is littered with coffee cups, extra clothing, loose notebooks and sheet music and fast food receipts- you shake the umbrella off outside of the car before snapping it shut and closing the door. Beside you Soobin laughs, short and low.

“Thanks for shaking off your umbrella. Really counteracts the gallons of water your brought in with your shoes and pants.” He glances pointedly at where your feet soak the tan carpet into a dark brown and you bristle.

“Thanks for calling a code blue in the middle of a rainstorm. I wouldn’t have fucked your car up if you didn’t have an emergency.” Your voice softens at the reminder of why you’re here, and you finally turn to face him better after you buckle up. He’s devastatingly handsome, as always, but you feel your heart stutter at the fact that he’s wearing the hoodie you bought him for Christmas, the one he had almost slapped you for spending so much money on. It’s slightly damp from the rain and it casts his face in shadows along with the shitty weather and for once you hate the way it looks on him. He drives without asking, already knowing exactly where he wanted to go to talk out whatever had happened.

“I wouldn’t call it a total emergency,” he begins as Spotify takes a few seconds to switch between songs. “Just something I needed you to be in the loop for ASAP.” He looks your way again, eyes calculating for a few moments before the light turns green and he’s making the all too familiar right turn into the tasty and underrated diner that you discovered as freshmen. The rain has not slowed at all and the two of you run into the building to avoiding getting too wet, although your feet squelch with renewed vigor on the red and white tiled floor.

The lighting is much better at your favorite table, and after you place your order you’re able to finally get a good look at Soobin. His soft eyes are rimmed red and puffy, and you can’t tell if it’s the weather, the lack of sleep or his persistent allergies that are the cause. Maybe all three, or maybe something new entirely. He’s staring back at you just as clearly, studying your own face and mannerisms even though it had been years since anything about him was new to you. Of course, other than the day he casually pulled you into his chest and you realized just how tall and broad and handsome he had become.

The thought leaves as scarily quick as it enters, as Soobin turns his face to smile up at the waitress delivering drinks and you catch a glimpse of reddened, mottled looking skin just beneath the seam of the hood. As soon as the waitress retreats you lean across the rickety table and paw at the cotton. Soobin puts up almost no fight, knowing he’s about to lose a battle that hadn’t even begun. The delicate skin of his cheek is alarmingly bright red and looks angry to the touch. Bruises had already begun to form around the outer ring of the graze and your heart clenches when you realize that what you first thought was a circular bruise looks suspiciously similar to a fist. A symphony of anger and concern rise within your chest and your eyes prickle with tears that you know Soobin will wipe away for you if you let them fall.

“What-” you swallow, saliva suddenly feeling like it’s made of cotton, “Who did that?”

He smiles shyly, ducking away from your touch but you gently grab at his cheek, keeping him from moving too far. His eyes bore into yours, flicking down to your lips before bringing them back up. Slowly, as if scared to spook you, he encloses his palm around your wrist.

“Promise you won’t yell and disturb everyone else that’s eating?” You nod eagerly even though both you and Soobin know that it was a promise likely to be broken. His hand, steady and radiating warmth into the skin of your wrist tugs tighter, hooking on to you like a life line.

“That asshole Braden. I was passing him in the lobby of the math building and he was talking to his friends about how-” Soobin stops to swallow an invisible lump in his throat- “how he worked with you on some project and he kept talking about how stupid you were the whole time.”

Your face twists into a grimace at the reminder of that exact project and then the image of Braden, tall and wide with an angry round face; but then a laugh bubbled from the depths of your chest.

“To be fair, I was useless for that project. It was film class and it was about that stupid French movie I didn’t watch. So he’s not technically wrong.” Soobin’s frown twitched and then, to your surprise, deepened. Heart dropping at the sight, you felt a chill creep up the back of your neck. For as long as you’d known him, there was always a good chance that a well timed joke could curb his anger or sadness or frustration.

“It wasn’t that that got me, well, this. After he said that, he said that even though you were stupid he wouldn’t mind seeing you on your knees.” You sucked in a simultaneous breath with Soobin, whose moody look finally transfered to you. It made too much sense now; why your joke hadn’t shifted his mood, why he was so vague about why he needed to talk to you, why he had that bruise. Your heart races as you begin to imagine how the skin will turn deep purples and greens, going sickly yellow around the edges. “It just pissed me off so bad. So I yelled at him and he squared up with me and before I knew it I was on the floor.”

To be honest, you were angrier that Soobin had come out of the altercation hurt than anything. You were used to the comments, the snide bullshit that falls from the mouths of your less kind peers.

“I’m going to kill him.” Soobin laughs, finally, as you clench your fingers into a tight fist around your innocent glass of strawberry lemonade.

“No, you’re not. I’m fine.” He finally removes the hood from his head, and if it weren’t for the bruise- which you now could see spread almost all the way to his ear- you would have been more interested in the fact that his shaggy hair had gotten even longer since the last time you’d seen it this close. You open your mouth to protest just as the waitress approaches again, this time balancing two hot plates of food on her arms. You flash her a sweet smile at the same time she notices the state of Soobin’s face and squints. She doesn’t say anything, though, and leaves almost as quickly as she showed up.

“Are you sure I can’t punch him in the face?” You ask as soon as she’s out of earshot.

“Yes.” Soobin playfully scowls at you around a mouthful of french fries. Your heart skips at the adorable way his eyebrows knit and his dimples press deeper into his cheeks. Despite yourself, you smile, feeling the tension in the air dissipate around the pair of you. Soobin gestures loosely to the plate in front of you, wordlessly encouraging you to eat.

The pancakes you ordered are just as delicious as you remember them to be every time; fluffy and syrupy with just enough butter. Halfway through a chew, a new idea pops in your head and you struggle to keep chunks of batter from spewing onto the table as you speak.

“What if I just break his nose a little?”

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certifiedskywalker · 4 years ago

Text

Fett’s Foundling - Din Djarin

thewhitedannimal said: Hi! Could I request a mando x reader where the reader is also a skilled and famous mandalorian? They decide to work together and after sometime, the reader is impressed by mando and starts developing a noticeable crush on him, but mando thinks it’s cute and expresses his feelings? Tysm if u do, I love ur work!

AN: I kinda changed this up a bit. I hope you like it though! I think it turned out pretty well!

WARNING: SEASON 2 SPOILERS!!! and mentions of terrorism (Star Wars terrorism but still)

“You’re sure about this?”

Boba’s dark eyes were cold and searching as he held your gaze. The lines of his face, including those carved into his skin by the Snarlacc’s digestive acid, were creased as he tried to read you. You imagined you looked about the same as him, but less scarred. Brow furrowed, lips thin, and expression stern. You were, after all, Fett’s foundling.

“Are you sure about this? After all, we’ve been through a lot together. You might find that you miss me, go all soft on me, old man.”

At your teasing, the coldness in Boba’s tense features melted away. His mouth quirked upwards in one of his rare, closed-lipped smiles. The smile was a welcomed change of pace; the only hint of joy to be found on Moff Gideon’s freshly captured, Imperial light cruiser. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Bo-Katan looking grim, head ducked down in conservation with her subordinate. She had been whispering since the Jedi left, eyes darting around the bridge in search of the Darksaber.

You glanced around too, but found that the ancient relic was nowhere to be found. Neither was Din Djarin.

“And you say I’m going soft,” Boba scoffed, pulling your attention back to him. “You’re tied to him like a Kowakian monkey-lizard to a Hutt. Pathetic joke of a creature.”

“You would be the only one to think that,” you countered, “and the first to know that you’re wrong.” It wasn’t a threat. It was the truth.

Boba had found you as a child who, much like himself, was stranded on Tatooine, doomed to the wastes baked by the twin suns. Both of you had been lost, outsiders to an outside world. Then Boba found his way back to the way of the Mandalore and brought you with him. He taught you to be a warrior and the two of you took odd jobs for odd people.

All the while, Boba searched for his armor and, with his help and scraps of lost battle gear, you had begun to forge your own. Eventually, you forged a name for yourself. So, it surprised him when you had, many cycles past, asked Boba if you could use his: Fett. It had stuck and you had stuck together, through it all. Though now…

“Not pathetic,” Boba finally conceded, “but you’re tied to him. Any being can see it.”

Warmth spread through your body and over your skin like a blaster bolt singe. Tightness gathered in your jaw, forced your teeth together like a vice. To ebb the sting promised by further embarrassment, you tore your eyes from Boba’s, unwilling to let him see deeper in your heart and mind. He knew you too well and you knew him too well. The two of you knew what the other was after and how those paths no longer lined up together.

“You don’t have to ask for my permission to leave.” At his words, you lifted your gaze back to Boba’s. “All I ask is that you give your allegiance to no one-”

You roll your eyes at his words. “I know my value, my ideals. I’d never compromise either.”

Boba shook his head and leaned closer to you. Between you, he extended his hand. Your eyes glanced from his empty, open hand to his face a few times before he finally spoke up.

“-unless they prove to you that your life is more important than their own.”

“I don’t…”

Shock. You remembered the feeling from your first gunfight. All those cycles ago, when you were lost on Tatooine. It had been so long since something had truly rattled you. For it to be Boba’s words, the man who taught you to push shock and fear off to the wayside, you were left all the more shaken.

“From what I’ve seen, that Mandalorian is as honorable as an ex-bounty hunter can be.”

Boba gives you another closed-lipped smile. In your silence, you glance down at his hand again. You see him move it towards you, like an offering. Without another moment's hesitation, you move to rest your hand on his armored forearm. You feel his fingers on your own arm give a gentle squeeze before you meet his eyes again.

“You take care of yourself.”

Before you can return the sentiment, Boba pulls you in from your arm and into a tight embrace. Shock, again, freezes you, turns your limbs to carbonite for longer than you care to acknowledge. Boba’s embrace melts you free from it. You wrap your arms over his shoulders and hold to him as you did during that first gunfight.

“You too,” you whisper, your voice small enough to packed into a pulse rifle. You pull away before you let yourself melt away with the shock. “And tell me when you take Tatooine.”

“Of course,” Boba nods his head at you and glanced to his left. You follow his eyeline and see Fennec. Her lips quirk upwards when you meet her gaze.

“Watch the little duchess. She wants that laser sword.”

“I will.”

Fennec nods before she turns her attention to Boba. As if he never took it off, Boba’s helmet is already on. The dark visor focuses on you for one last moment before he starts off towards the bridge exit, Fennec on his heels. You watch the pair go for a moment, mentally tracking their path to the hangar where the Slave I rests in wait. At the thought of the old beast, your chest aches. The discomfort lingers only slightly as you turn your back on the only life you had known and to the darkness of space shown through the viewport.

“Fett, what a legacy.”

Your body tenses at the sound of Gideon’s low voice. When you turn your eyes over to where he is bound, you see dark eyes locked on you like a TIE target.

“To throw that all away for a dangerous sect of disenfranchised Mandalorians.”

“I am Mandalorian,” you said, starting towards him. Each step you take is with purpose, calculated to reach the total sum of Gideon’s fear. You see how his eyes widen slightly and feel a rush of satisfaction further dulls the ache of Boba leaving; of you staying. “And, the last time I watched the holonews, it seemed that the New Republic labeled your broken Empire as a terrorist sect, disenfranchised from power rather than freedom.”

Gideon shifted, his cape collecting more dust and wrinkles as it rested on the floor with him. He opened his mouth to speak but you quickly turned to Cara. She was smiling, watching Gideon flounder. When she raised her eyes to yours, she grinned.

“That may be the most I’ve ever heard a Mandalorian talk in one go. Mando is always so...quiet.”

“Speaking of,” you glanced back at Bo-Katan and saw her eyes on you. In the hopes she wouldn’t hear, you leaned closer to Cara. “Where is he?”

“He walked off the bridge when the Jedi left with the kid. He went down the hall and to the left.” You nodded at her in thanks and glanced down at a scowling Gideon.

“I think the bindings should be tighter,” you said before walking off in the same direction as Din. With every entrance of new hallway you walked past, you peered into each, searching for him. He had been rocked, set a kilter by the Jedi that had stormed in for a rescue.

He had lost the only family he had known, just as you had decided to let yours go. You could feel your own loneliness creeping up your spine and could only imagine that he felt the same doom sneaking after him. Despite being a hunter, you knew that you could not save him from that feeling, just as you could not entirely save yourself. Though, maybe, you could keep each other’s company and scare off the dark together.

The thought made you cringe. Boba was right: you were tied to Din. Pathetically stuck to him, nearly a stranger; but a stranger with skill. On Tython, you had seen him fight off a few Stormtroopers before running after the Child. He had bested a Darktrooper too, from what Cara had gotten Gideon to admit. He was a stranger with heart too.

A stranger willing to break his Creed, the oath he asked if you and Boba had taken, to say a true goodbye to the Child. In the moment, you didn’t catch a good look at his features. You saw only his head of dark brown hair and the curved tanned skin of his cheek. His looks don't matter to you though. You were already taken by him, from the moment he stood up to Boba on Tython, was ready to lie his life down for his Child.

You were so lost in the memory that you nearly overlooked the shine of his beskar in an abandoned meeting room. Silver casted in his armor, Din was starkly outlined against the blackness of space that shown outside the viewpoint. His helmet was still off, held tight in his left hand. The sight felt sacred, as if it were wrong for you to be looking at even the back of his exposed head.

“You can come in.” While he was only a few paces away from you, Din’s voice sounded far off. Slowly, you took a step inside before taking pause.

“Do you want me to walk in backwards?” Despite the seriousness in your tone, you hear a small, breathy chuckle from Din’s direction. “I’m just trying to be cautious.”

“It’s appreciated,” Din said and, much to your surprised, you watched as he turned his head. In the dark of the Imperial meeting room, it was hard to make out his features but you could feel him looking at you. “But not necessary. Not anymore, not right now.”

Defeat was plain and heavy in his voice. You were familiar with the weight of it, having heard it in your own after your first, and only, failed bounty. Slowly still, you started towards Din again. As you moved, you catch Din’s head turn back to face the stars. Closer now, you sneak a glimpse at the side of his face before settling at his side.

He was handsome, a word you thought you would never use before. Granted, on Tatooine, there weren’t many beings you felt adequately captured the essence of the word. Din, however, with his strong, curved nose and scruff-covered jaw fit the bounty. Not to mention the dark of his eyes that looked like empty space itself. Full of mystery, Din’s eyes were, and you were ready to dive right in.

Then Boba’s words echoed in your head. Any being can see it. At Din’s side, you forced your body still. Movement, nervousness that only Din could spark in you, could make your feelings all the more obvious. Now was not the time for that.

“You miss him already.”

“Yeah.” You snuck a glance at Din. His eyes were fixed on the view port, distant, like his voice. It was like he was trying to chase after the Child but was lost in space. You had no idea what to say to ease his search, his pain. Luckily, you didn’t have to.

A fast whoosh sounded out from the hangar below and distracted both you and Din from others presence. Roaring of a familiar engine reached your ears and, as quickly at you recognized it, the Slave I shot out of the light cruiser hold. Silently, like a swift and stalking hunter, the ship you were raised on rushed away. You watched it go until your lost the shape of it, saw it meld with the stars. It was then you felt the hairs on the back of your neck rise.

You looked over at Din and found that he was facing you now. Features once hidden under layers of beskar were now on full display. Din looked older than you imagined. There were strands of grey in his hair and patches in his scruff. Crows feet crinkles were gathered in the corners of his eyes; though it couldn’t be because he smiled so often, not with a life like his. Not with a life like yours, like all other Mandalorians.

“You didn’t go?” Concern, in his voice and in his brown eyes, warmed your chest. You could only nod in response. “Fett, what are you doing?”

“Making my own way, like all Foundlings must.” Unable to hold yourself back, you nudge softly Din with your elbow. “Like you are. What you did was brave, even if it broke your rules.”

“You inspired me,” Din said, his voice nestled closer now around you. You held his gaze with a quirked brow, entreating him to continue. “Remember what you said on Morak before Mayfield and I went in?”

“‘Don’t get killed’ wasn’t it?”

For the first time, you see Din smile. It’s not like Boba’s smile, the only other Mandalorian you had known. Din’s smile showed his teeth, even if it wasn’t for more than a second. Lines in his face grew more pronounced around his lips. You forced yourself to look away from his mouth and back out of the view port.

“No, I don’t remember.”

“You were talking to Boba. He said I wouldn’t break the Creed, even for the kid, if I had to. You said that I would, that my heart was in the fight.”

Want edged Din’s voice, powerful enough to get you to look up at him once more. His dark eyes were on you still and you don’t think they ever left. They dropped from your eyes to your lips and back again. As small as the shifting glance was, it was enough to tickle your stomach. You had to force yourself to stay still and quiet.

“You were right.”

“I am, most of the time, you’ll find,” you say breathlessly. It’s all you can manage.

“Is that why you’re sticking around?”

“What?” You lick your lips nervously and curse yourself for it.

“Because your heart is in this fight,” Din extends his hand as he speaks. In his open, gloved palm, the hilt of the Darksaber rested. You hadn’t truly even entertained the weapon, what it meant and stood for. Instead, your mind was clouded with Din, with want.

“In a sense.”

Din raised his brows at you. “That’s a Guild answer. A hunter answer. Give me yours.”

You already know it, you want to say but you held your tongue back. Silence, tense and unyielding, fell over the two of you. Din held your gaze, not backing down on his request. It had taken him a few minutes, but he had found his confidence without the helmet. You smiled at the thought; he was a true Mandalorian. A sense of ease overwhelmed you, made you too comfortable and your tongue too loose.

“My heart is in the hands of the fighter.”

You reached your hand over and pushed Din’s fingers closed over the hilt of the Darksaber. For a moment, you fingers lingered over his. You savored the warmth before pulling away. Finding enough courage, you held Din’s gaze again and felt your fear dissipate.

“But I think he knows that already.”

Din swallowed hard before replying, “he does.”

Burnt by embarrassment, you took a step back from him. Just as you were about to take another, dismiss yourself from the conversation and your ultimate rejection, there was a clang. You watched as Din’s helmet hit the floor and as he reached his newly free hand out. His gloved fingers wrapped around your wrist and pulled you back. You took not of his eyes again, how they flicked between yours and your lips. Was he nervous too?

“And he feels the same.”

“You-”

“I feel the same,” Din clarified, eyes focused solely on your face.

Then, it was just the two of you again. Two Foundlings once lost then found again by the other. Wed to the fight but tied to each other. This was the way, wasn’t it? You felt sure it was.

When Din bent down and captured your lips with his, you felt all the more strongly about it. Whatever way, whatever path Din followed, you would be close behind. You were two bounty hunters, fallen from grace and into a world unprepared for what would follow.

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tadpole-san · 4 years ago

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are we still friends? ; d.g. part two pairing: titans!dick grayson x reader, on-and-off relationship warnings: dick being his therapy-needing titans self, slight canon divergence from titans 1x06, and an ending that may or may not lead to a part two a/n: i will never let go of my personal dick grayson grudge, but this exists solely because i love @capricorn-stark

The last time you had seen Dick Grayson, he’d outfitted himself with packed belongings and a one-way ticket to Detroit, Michigan. Seeing him off at the airport would turn out to be the last time you saw him for a year - a fact you hadn’t picked up on at the time, but did, in fact, predict. To a degree.

“You could come visit,” he’d offered, just steps away from his gate. “You - well, you said you had plans to go to Chicago, right? The drive’s not too bad.” It was hard to say no.

Because this was Dick Grayson, and he had to be so earnest about everything he did. Even when it was asking you to come see him as he was moving hundreds of miles away from Gotham (hundreds of miles away from you, a part of your mind whispered, even as you reminded yourself that this didn’t have anything to do with you so much as it had to do with his fractured relationship with Bruce). Because he was trying to make things work.

“How are you able to be friends with your exes?” you’d asked, bemused and flabbergasted all at once. It wasn’t the first time. “I really try to hate you, you know.” That got him to laugh - which was nice. You felt as though you hadn’t really smiled in a long time.

“Maybe that’s my superpower.”

“Your superpower is super annoying,” you’d deadpanned, before leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you around, Grayson.”

An empty promise neither of you acknowledged.

After that, it was all too easy to fall out of touch with Dick - one too many missed calls, excuses of taking more shifts at his police station when you were more than capable of keeping up with the news that spoke of a vigilant Robin without its bat, until eventually, total radio silence. And you were happy to leave it at that, knowing that whatever Dick was working through, he’d clearly rather do it on his own.

So when even the Robin sightings in Detroit stopped entirely, you didn’t push things. Maybe he’d finally done it: give up the costume for good, leave the life behind like he said he would do, but never actually committed to.

This was probably a sign. That you need to go see him, like you said you would do, but never committed to.

Which means that the last thing you expect, on your morning coffee run in Chicago, was to quite literally run into the man of the hour himself.

“Dick?” The word comes in a way that is akin to a strangled duck squawking. You wonder if the man before you is real - if you’re not just imagining the figure that stands before you, cuts and bruises littering his face. As if he’s been in a fight.

With his track record, there probably was a fight. With him, there’s always the fight.

“Sup?” Dick’s not the one who answers you first. It’s the kid standing at his side, walking with a swagger that speaks volumes to the confidence of a kid who’s filling out the big boy shoes with his own ego. You try not to judge too much - there’s always a story behind a stance like his. “Jason Todd, at your service.”

A train passes on the overhead, the sound drawing you out of your thoughts. You realize his hand is still offered to you, and you shake it, still staring at Dick. He’s tense, shoulders drawn, hunched in on himself and bracing for a fight.

Something’s up. And with the Boy Wonder, it’s always something big, and possibly earth-shattering. Inwardly, you sigh. On the outside, you smile wryly and introduce yourself to Jason.

“You probably know who I am,” you say, letting go of Jason’s hand and stepping back. Your grip on your bag tightens. “Dick’s a big storyteller, once you get him going.” Dick verbally steps in before Jason can say anything to either confirm or deny your words.

“I could use your help.”

He doesn’t say we.

“I can see that,” you deadpan, motioning to his face. Your hand stops shy of actually touching the bruise blossoming against tanned skin. “A personal favor, then?” He turns his head away from you, and you spot the (quite frankly) atrocious brown car parked on the curb.

“That’s my ride.” He’s defensive, and you get the feeling that it isn’t about the car. You raise your hand in surrender, but he doesn’t relax - in a way, it’s nice to know that you’re probably not the reason he looks ready to pull a Flash and run as soon as the chance to do so opened up for him.

“You’re parked in front of my ride,” you reply, reaching into your bag and pulling the keys out. You let them twirl around your finger as you turn and walk towards your car, looking over your shoulder at him. “Am I going to need to make a stop at home to get the old suit out?” Somehow, that actually brings a smile to Dick’s face, and he ducks his head slightly as he chuckles.

“I just need you,” he calls out, finally pulling a hand out of his pockets and raising it in your direction to let you see the phone in his palm that’s open to your texts with him. There’s a new one that is likely the address of whatever safehouse he was holed up in.

You try not to linger on his words for too long.

“They’re hot,” you hear Jason say. It’s followed immediately by a yelp - presumably from Dick either elbowing him or punching his arm - and a “you’re way too young for that.” Despite yourself, you grin.

You’d missed him. Even if you weren’t going to admit it to his face.

When you finally make it to the address Dick sends you, he’s not even the one who lets you pass Bruce’s more-than-extensive security system. It’s Jason who does that.

Instead, you find Dick bent over the bathroom sink, the blade of a scalpel pressed to the skin of his arm. There’s also an unconscious body cuffed to the shower behind him, but you compartmentalize that for later.

“Are you okay?” At the sound of your voice, DIck freezes - like a deer caught in headlights - and looks up at you. You can see him visibly relax as he lets out a sigh that works to relieve some of the tension wound up in his body. You raise an eyebrow, and walk over to him.

“It’s not what you think,” he tells you, then uses the scalpel to motion towards the device discarded on the white porcelain. You pick it up, turning it over in your hands. “Bruce planted a tracker, in me, and I’m trying to-”

“Cut him out?” you finish, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Cut it out,” he corrects.

“I know what I said.” You watch through the mirror’s reflection as he finally makes the incision, thick red blood pouring down his arm and dripping into the sink. You’re already opening the cabinet to find gauze to wrap his arm with. “Let me see that-” The ringtone coming from the phone between you two cuts you off. You look at him. And then you look down at the screen. The name Kori flashes across it.

“New girlfriend?” you dare to ask, meeting his eyes in the mirror. Dick purses his lips, swiping a bloody thumb over the screen to deny the call before he’s reaching for the tweezers.

“No,” He grits his teeth, maneuvering the metal tweezers in the wound he made. “We just met,” Dick adds, meeting your eyes again. For his sake, you offer a tentative smile. He sighs, and finally retracts a tracker that resembles a battery watch. It falls into your open hand. You’re glad for the distraction, because - shit.

Those eyes.

Dick possesses what you swear is the most beautiful shade of eyes you’ve ever seen, and he models them beautifully. Those baby blues were always going to be your downfall, and seeing them had been enough for you to call in a precious sick day at work so you could help him out on whatever case brings him to Chicago. They’re the reason you have a case in your car trunk containing a suit you swore to leave in the closet.

They make you realize you can be so weak.

“I’m not dating right now,” Dick continues, filling in the space of your prolonged silence. He doesn’t take the gauze from your hand - even though he could - and instead, holds his arm out towards you so you can wrap it yourself. “Actually, I haven’t really seen anyone since I was with you.”

“I think that says less about what our relationship was, and more about you going full lone-wolf.” You hesitate to finish, and you keep a loose grip on his arm. His skin is warm. “The more you try to be the anti-Bruce, the more you’re becoming like him. You know that, right?” He’s not looking you in the eye anymore. Anger isn’t what drives him to do that, you think - it’s more like a combination of guilt, of the expression of a kid who thinks he’s a disappointment to the people leaning on him. People shouldn’t lean on a kid.

“I’m working on it.”

“I know.” Finally, you set the roll of gauze aside and release his arm. It allows you to take the chance to reach for him and make him look at you again. “And thank you,” you add. “For coming to see me.” He manages another smile, reaching up to cover your hand in his. You know what he would do if you were still dating. He would’ve pressed a kiss to your hand, and he would laugh it off, probably with some sort of cheeky quip. A I knew you missed me too much or I’d come by to see you any day.

You’re not dating anymore. And it’s confusing as hell, because sometimes it feels like you still are. On the rare days that he still calls you for no reason to tell you about a case from work he’s stuck on, or to remind you that you made a promise to see him, pairing it with a good tease about how seeing him in the new uniform would probably be too much for you. On those nights, Robin isn’t flying solo on the streets of Detroit.

“The lead brought me to Chicago,” he explains, tilting his head in the direction of the man lying in the shower.

“Is it a work case?”

“Not exactly. It’s-” you anticipate the familiar complicated. The word doesn’t come. “There’s a lot I need to update you on,” he settles on saying instead, running stained hands under the sink. “And if it’s Chicago, you’re going to be my number one. Right?”

“Right,” you agree, traces of amusement seeping into your tone as you cross your arms. “I called in sick at work,” you add. “Am I going to need to make up an excuse for the rest of the week?” The question, lighthearted as it’s supposed to be, holds weight to it that neither of you acknowledge.

“I’m probably going to be out of the state in a couple of days,” Dick says instead of answering, drying his hands off with a towel. He lets it drop in the sink, walking back out in the hallway with you. “You don’t need to - it’s a lot. And there’s these guys I’m kind of traveling with-”

“Dick.”

When he faces you, it’s your turn to shove hands in your pockets to avoid wringing them out in front of him. You take a deep breath, leaning back on your heels to look at him. “You didn’t need to find me,” you tell him. “That Jason kid? He wouldn’t be sticking around if he couldn’t be decent backup for this.”

“Are you detective-ing me out right now?” Dick’s actually trying not to laugh. You’re not sure if you should hit him or not.

“That’s not a word!”

“You know what I mean! And yes! I’m trying to figure out what’s going on with you!” By now, he’s actually laughing - and even if a part of you is annoyed, sure, there’s more of you that just feels relief. Because you can’t remember the last time he’d laughed like that, either, and it gives you a bit of hope.

Hope that the parts of him you fell in love with aren’t as lost as you thought.

“There’s a lot,” he admits, shifting his weight and trying to step back so he isn’t crowding you in the hall. “I know - the Bruce thing, you’re sick of that bullshit. I got a lot going on.” His phone starts up again, and this time, he pulls it out. The fluorescent light washes out his skin, but you can see his expression sober up. “I need to take this.” The traces of laughter in his voice are gone, and it feels like he’s slipping away again. There’s frustration that must show on your face, because he reaches out to you and moves a stray lock of hair out of your eyes in a silent apology.

“Go.” You manage not to sound as bitter as you feel - and with him, it’s not a bitterness that’s always there, but it inevitably creeps up on you. The same way the shadow of a bat hangs over him. Dick nods, and you start to walk away when he grabs your wrist again.

“You aren’t my backup for this,” he says firmly, and you know you’re fucked. Because he’s looking at you with those eyes, and it’s like you’re in that airport with him all over again, with nothing but empty promises and a broken relationship the two of you are hanging onto by a thread. “You’re-” he falters. He hesitates, and you’re ready to watch Dick Grayson walk away from you again.

“You’re everything.”

DC Taglist:

@cipheress-to-k-pop

#🌙#📰.dc #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagines #nightwing x reader #nightwing imagines #dick grayson x you #nightwing x you #dc imagines #dick grayson fic #titans imagines #reader imagines #gender neutral reader #dick grayson #nightwing #titans #dc comics

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yelenasdog · 4 years ago

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heavy is the head that wears the crown (mob!arvin russell x fem! pastor’s daughter! reader)

genre: angst+fluff

summary: arvin had always heard the saying “heavy is the head that wears the crown” but never truly understood what it meant. not until now

words: 4.06k

warnings: since this is based off of a tdatt, family death, mentions of death, mentions of mobs, kissing, marriage, murder, smoking, suicide, cancer and i think that’s it. it’s also kinda melodramatic, and i haven’t watched tdalt in a while so a lot could be plot inaccurate also idk anything abt the mob or mafia so like dont k*ll me thx i just like joe pesci

a/n: first, i owe the amazing concept of mob!arv to @kelieah ! so go follow her for more mob!arvin goodness!! basically i’m obsessed w 90s mob movies and watched goodfellas and casino and few too many times lately and oops here we r! i tried to write this from the narrator in tdatt’s view, so if u wanna read it like that then cool! btw the pic w the dress is just an idea of the dress reader is wearing not what she looks like! ok enjoy i’ll stop rambling

·。·。·。

“So, Arvin. I was told you paint houses? That true?”

Arvin hesitated, opening his mouth and closing it again. He wasn’t a painter, no, he killed people. For a price, that is.

But rather than saying no, the jab in his side from his uncle told him to answer otherwise.

“Yes, sir. It is.”

The Pastor nodded, taking a drag from his cigar, imported all the way from Cuba. He then placed what was left of the long stick in the crystal tray in front of him, the tapping of it on the reflective surface seeming almost deafening.

“Can all your family be traced down to one place, son?”

Arvin gulped, avoiding his eyes, darting his own around the heavily decorated room. Another jab to his side. He winced, meeting the older man’s eyes. He may not know much about the life he was about to enter, but he knew enough about what that meant.

“Yes, sir. They can be, minus my father and my mother. They’re gone.”

Not even a full beat of silence later, the Pastor spoke.

“How’d he die?”

Arvin was taken aback, though he knew that question was coming. His jaw clenched, as did his fist by his side. If the Pastor noticed, he didn’t speak on it, barely lifting his eyes from the document resting on his desk.

“Suicide, after the war.”

“And your mother?”

He took his lip in between his teeth, feeling the skin break, the tears well in his eyes for reasons he would excuse as the pain he was inflicting.

“Cancer. It happened when I was young, I didn’t barely even know her.”

The pastor looked up, slimming his eyes. This time he did notice the glimmering droplets, welling up in his chestnut colored eyes, threatening to fall. He appreciated the boy’s attempt to keep his emotions in check in front of his would be superior, leaning back into his chair.

“It’s alright, boy. You’re allowed to cry, it was your mother.” His southern accent was thick like molasses, his words drawing out. Arvin still felt that it wasn’t acceptable, though, so he only sniffled and directed his chin further up towards the ceiling. He stood there for a while, nerves running through his every cell. It was electric, like white lighting making its way through his veins at a painstakingly slow pace.

“Right then.”

The pastor stood, walking towards Arvin and his uncle. His expensive loafers tapped along the cold floor as he went, the sound pestering to the ears of Arvin, taunting him. He reached a soft hand out, which the boy standing opposite to him gladly took. He observed how the Pastor’s hand was without scars, calluses. Anything that would point to evidence of him being a killer, doing his own dirty work (or “the Lord’s work” as he liked to put it).

“Welcome to the family, son.”

And as Arvin smiled widely and shook his hand with an iron grip, he began to wonder what his new life would entail doing the “Lord’s work”.

He thought he had a pretty good idea, but boy, was he wrong.

“So, how’d it go?”

It was later, and Arvin was sitting with one his most favorite people, Y/n. The pair were resting in an open field, the wildflowers around her just almost competing with the beauty she held. He bashfully looked to the dirt under his shoes, noticing how only inches away, her hands picked at the damp grass.

“Went well, I think. He told me I’m ‘part of the family now’.”

She smiled at him, and in that moment with her hair so widely astray, and wearing that pale blue dress he adored so much, Arvin’s heart felt a certain emotion he hadn’t necessarily felt for someone at this multitude before. He had felt it for Lenora, his mother, his aunt and uncle. But it was different, then. Because now as he sat with her by his side, his love for her was realized at its full potential.

She began to ramble on, congratulating him on becoming a member of her father’s so called “family”, telling him how proud she was. He couldn’t keep focused on the sweet words that were falling from her lips like honey, though, as he was too caught up in his own head, his own thoughts.

“Arv?” She asked, voice laced with slight concern, but mostly with curiosity.

“Sorry, darlin’. Just thinking.”

She blushes, it’s the first time he’s called her that before. She tries to carry on conversation, though with her heart beating through that pretty dress of her’s, it was a bit difficult.

“About what?” She questioned, doing her very best not to pry too far, to be invasive in the very reserved Arvin’s mind.

Truthfully? He was promising himself that he would marry her one day, make her his wife. But telling her that he was only thinking “‘bout the future” would have to do. I mean, truthfully, he really was!

So he answered her, and she was content with said answer, abandoning the subject and returning to many praises for Arv. The standards for the “family” were high, and though she believed in him fiercely, she knew that at his core Arvin was the sweetest soul she’d ever met, and she was skeptical he could put that aside to do whatever the job would require.

“Arvin?”

He looked up, and she nearly lost her breath. It was Arvin’s sunkissed skin, tanned from working under the hot sun, the beams beating down on him. Or perhaps it was the freckles that lightly dusted his crooked nose, like a constellation from the cosmos above. Maybe even it was the mop that sat on his head, the color all the same of those sweet brown eyes of his. Whatever it was, she felt it could only mean one thing.

Y/n Y/l/n was confident she loved Arvin Russell.

“Hmm?” He asked, tilting his head like a confused canine. Adorably endearing, she thought.

And though she had much to say, she was afraid that if he were the dog in question, then the puppy had got her tongue, so to say.

“Y/n/n?” The boy said, nudging her with his elbow, making a melodious giggle erupt from her chest. “What, cat got your tongue?” Arvin teased, and she only shook her head and smiled, as he had no idea how correct he really was.

“You could say that.”

The two shared laughs over the exchange, and at some point (neither of them are quite sure when, how, or who leaned in first), their lips connected in a short and sweet kiss. It seemed that it only lasted for a moment, and as soon as they pulled apart, Arvin and Y/n both were dying for more.

But they resisted, Arvin reaching out a cautious hand to entangle with hers. She bashfully grinned, as did he (though he did his best to resist).

“Y/n, I really like you.” He had said, his thumb running small circles upon her skin. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think you like me too.” He laughed, nervous notes to the sound.

“And well, I was wondering if you’d like to be my girlfr-”

And with a light groan, Y/n had wrapped her arms around his neck, pushing both of them to the ground. She connected their lips, the kiss so oddly blunt, an attack on his lips that he had no plan of fighting off. His hands found her hair, and her’s moved to the sides of his face, holding him so tightly, as if she was afraid he would let go.

“Yes.” She pulled away panting, her lips swollen, his flushed. “Yes, I’d love to be your girlfriend, Arvin.”

They smiled as bright as the setting sun above them, and Arvin pulled her close as she buried her face in the warm crook of his neck. They stayed like that ‘till the sun went down and the stars came out of hiding, the cool summer breeze blowing around them. They both still felt it, then, the love they had only just began to realize was there. And they would continue to feel it for years to come.

Like when Arvin would get back from a job, sometimes with blood splattered on his crisp white shirts, his dirty work getting, well, dirty. She would slowly peel it from his body, taking care to make sure he wasn’t hurt. She would do her best to wash the crimson stains from the fabric, sighing if it was seeming to be of no use. Arvin would come up behind her where she was working at the sink, wrapping his strong arms around her middle and resting his head on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Arv,” she would start, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face, “damn thing won’t budge.” Arvin would just chuckle, reaching up a gentle hand, gentle only for her, to tuck the hair behind her ear, quietly speaking.

“Well I think it looks pretty good, darlin’. It’ll do just fine.” He would spin her around to face him, and pepper small kisses on her skin, smiling at her reaction. And if he was hurt, she would take care to use a warm washcloth, wiping the scarlet splatters from his creamy complexion.

The juxtaposition of the shades was always bewildering for her, oddly beautiful in a way. She never said so, though, only muttering praises of how proud she was, how strong he is, things like that. And Arvin would watch her, honey colored eyes following her as she moved about to fix him right up. No pain would have any real effect on him, not when she was there to reassure him, make him whole again.

As Arvin moved up in their small town world, in the “family”, he remained just as kind, just as gentle. Nothing really changed, no, only the lines on his forehead deepening and the crows feet becoming darker when he smiled; And Y/n’s role, as well. She stopped cleaning him up, stopped trying to rid his shirts of bloody reminders of his living. Arvin seemed to no longer be “painting walls’, but rather making sure jobs were done, everyone was staying in their places.

And things led to another, and all of a sudden Y/n and Arvin were moving into a big house, bigger than Arvin had ever even been in before. Deals and arrangements were made, settlements too.

One regular Tuesday, Arvin came home from what Y/n could tell had been a long, long, day. He was exhausted, but had this unmistakable look of excitement and joy plastered to his face. He had come in bursting through the door, not even taking off his hat or overcoat before making his way over to Y/n and kissing her silly.

“Well hello to you, too, Arv.” She laughed, amusement and curiosity both equally swirling around in her brain, wondering what could possibly have inspired this behavior.

“Things are happening, sweetheart, good, good things.” He took her hands in his, briefly shaking them before planting a kiss to them and walking away, a big smile on his face. And truth be told, not that she would admit it, it scared the Hell outta her. She wasn’t quite sure as to why, but something was itching at her brain, warning her that whatever was brewing wasn't a good thing. But nevertheless, she maintained her grin, painted lips never faltering.

The next day, when the “good things” were supposed to be happening, Arvin was seriously wondering why on God’s green Earth he had expected this to be easy.

“Come again, son?”

Arvin swallowed, shifting on his feet. He mentally scolded himself for ending up in this position again, standing in front of the Pastor’s desk, all kinds of confused. But it had to be this way, it was for the best, he knew. The sun shone through the window above the desk in front of him, right into his eyes, nearly blinding him. The Pastor didn’t really care, though.

“I’m asking for your blessing to ask Y/n’s hand in marriage, sir.”

The older man slowly nodded in understanding, taking a long drag from the expensive cigar between his fat fingers, the gold ring on his pinky also shining brightly under the harsh sun’s light.

“I just thought that after our arrangement-”

“Arvin, I don’t regret making you an heir, I don’t.” He stated, blowing out a long stream of smoke. “Hell, I can feel something big and bad coming, boy, you understand? I know God’s will is holding out on us, on this family. But it’s running thin.”

The young man clenched his jaw, internally cringing on what that might mean to the family, for the family, what it meant for Y/n. He bit his tongue, feeling the iron seep onto his taste buds.

“And I know those damn Teagardins are plotting, they’re plotting for our downfall. Making you next in line is something they won’t see coming, and I trust it’ll stay that way. But I don’t quite understand

“Well I love your daughter, I love her so much that it hurts. And if worst comes to worst…” he stopped, his bottom lip wavering for a moment, trying to carefully dance around the different outcomes of this conversation. “I feel I’ll be better able to protect her if we’re married, if she’s truly mine.” That part might have been a lie. Y/n has never been his, never would be. She was her own person, outside Arvin, outside the family. It was what he loved about her above all else.

The Pastor was quiet for a moment contemplating his response, calculating it.

“Would you die for her?”

“Yes.” The answer came without thought, it was automatic for Arvin.

The Pastor smiled widely, lifting his arms.

“So, when’s the wedding, Arv?

Turns out, it was exactly a year, a month, and 6 days until Y/n and Arvin would tie the knot. Arvin had spent time, waiting to find the perfect moment to ask her the big question. He had decided on a night where the moon was bright and the sky was clear. They sat together in what they had donned “their” field, the greenery around them rustling in the wind. Though he was nervous, he had delivered a stunning speech that had taken poor Y/n’s heart by force. It ended up with both of them crying like babies and a shiny ring on Y/n’s finger.

The wedding itself had taken place on a beautiful summer’s day, and Y/n had worn a pretty white dress that had made Arvin almost faint when he saw her, standing there on her father’s arm. She was all decked out in the most expensive diamonds and pearls, courtesy of her father, making her shine like a crystal of sorts.

It was the best night of her life, Arv’s too. But the joy they had felt must have an inevitable end, as the worst night (Arvin’s too) was soon to follow.

It had been an ambush, the death of the Y/l/n family. The death toll had managed to wrack up every member immediate member of the esteemed mob family, including the Pastor, his wife, and their two sons. A bomb planted in the trunk of their Cadillac that had gone off, placed there by who knows.

When Arvin had heard, his immediate reaction was to thank God that Y/n had decided to stay with him that day, to go lay in the fields just the two of them. Immediately after she had been told, she had fallen into Arvin, her entire body weight being put into his arms. Sobs wracked through her frame, her tears dampening Arvin’s yellow button up.

Once she had “come to”, Y/n had grown to be furious rather than sad. As when you look at the lineage of her family, look at the ranks of the mob and who’s to rise to power when the one in front of them dies, well Arvin was right after Y/n’s big brother, Jamie.

And Y/n had loved her big brother, she had loved him very much and would like to believe that Arvin, her sweet, sweet Arvin, would never do anything of that multitude just to satiate his hunger and appetite for power. The hunger for power she wasn’t even aware he possessed. But how in the Hell was she even supposed to be sure?

“I want to believe you, Arv, I do. But I can’t! It don’t make any damn sense, Arvin!”

“You really think that low of me, Y/n/n?”

Y/n had been shouting, trying to confront him for a crime he hadn’t committed. But Arvin was calm as he spoke, his eyes only watering and his voice only bordering on wavering. Y/n reached a trembling hand to her scalp, pulling lightly on her roots. The tears slipping down her face were hot and salty and she hated it so much.

“What else am I supposed to think?” She lifted an arm, sniffling before putting her other one on her waist, the blue of her dress, the same dress Arvin adored so much, just barely matching what was to become of her mood. She was started to regress, the red hot anger from before transforming to a stormy blue of unsure waters.

“My whole family is dead, and it just so happened that you asked me to stay with you the day they died! My whole family is dead!” She screamed, her voice a crescendo of sorts. “And everyone is clean, Arv, except you. You got the motive, you got the alibi, I’ll give you that much.” She paused, briefly wiping her nose and looking to the blank wall to the left of her father’s office. “It’s funny;” she dryly chuckled, and Arvin looked up.

“You went from doing my daddy’s dirty work to gettin’ some poor bastard to do your own. Ironic isn’t it?”

Arvin stepped towards her, pain twisting his insides up to see his best girl afraid of him, cowering away from his touch.

“You still have me, Y/n. I’m your family.”

She looked to her feet and back to him, shaking her head.

“No, Arv. You’re not. And you will be sorry for what you did to him, to all of them. You will be.” She said, walking away with her heels clicking heavily on the wooden floors. Arvin stood still for a while, not quite sure where to go next. But it dawned on him as the stained glass shone down on his feet in the most poetic manner, that he was already there.

So he dragged his feet along with him, breaths ragged and short, his head slowly tilting up towards the glorious light. He only had to go a few feet, before he sat down in the old leather chair, the only emotions he felt being those of an imposter. He thought back to all the nervous conversations he’d had with the pastor while he was sitting in that chair, a trembling Arvin usually standing opposite, awaiting instruction.

He darted his eyes across the mahogany surface in front of him, looking at all the various things that he only could associate with Y/n’s father. His valued cigar box, the crystalline tray that rested next to it. (He swore he could still smell the fresh smoke, wafting from the little dish.) He opened it, the latch clinking before his hand reached in and his fingers clasped around one of the thick rolls of tobacco. Before he could light it, he felt overwhelmed all of a sudden, and dropped it back into the box, slamming the lid.

He laid back, resting his weary head. Arvin took a deep breath through his nose, exhaling through his mouth, before falling into a not so peaceful slumber.

He was only woken minutes later, Joseph, Y/n’s uncle, wanting to know if Arvin had seen her lately. He shook his head, muttering an annoyed “No”. Joseph got the idea relatively quickly, exiting the room. He heard the chapel’s doors close, taking that as his queue to leave once he saw the time. So he grabbed his hat and his coat, leaving the office and making his way through the dimly lit space. His attention was caught, though, by the cross by the front pews, so beautifully shining. Arvin put down his things, and walked over to the pew, sitting down on the uncomfortable hardwood. He bowed his head, putting his interlocked fingers utop the surface in front of him.

He hadn’t done this in awhile, this whole praying thing. It seemed naive in his way of life, with the things that happened around him, the people lost. But nonetheless, if ever, now was a good time to try.

“Heavenly Father, I, I, uh, I need to talk to you. To, uh, set the record straight.” His hands were sweaty, tears welling in his eyes.

“Y/n, she’s- well she’s the love of my life, God, and I don’t think she loves me anymore. Hell, she wants me dead. But I don’t blame her, I couldn’t ever. Not after...” he paused, his bottom lip shaking, “Not if she thinks I killed her family. But I didn’t, Father, I didn’t and I could never. But she don’t see that. I need her to see that.” He raised his voice, the bitter droplets rolling down his reddened cheeks, hitting his shoes.

“I can’t live without her, I won’t. So I guess I’m askin’ you a favor, Lord. Just… let her know I didn’t do it, that I would never hurt her.” His voice cracked, his words barely audible, not that whoever was listening cared.

“That I love her so much.”

Arvin muttered something of an “Amen”, and then just sat there for he wasn’t sure how long. His silence was interrupted by a mellow and raw voice, cutting through the silence like the sharpest dagger.

“It was the Teagardin family. I just found out.”

Arvin stood and turned so fast he dizzied himself, having to hold onto the back of the pew for stability. His bottom lip quivered, his flushed features gaining a confused look.

“Y/n/n? How long you been there?” He questioned, not bothering to wipe his eyes. She shifted from one foot to the other, fumbling with her hands.

“Long enough.”

There was a mutual understanding at her few words from the two of them, and an apology within them all the same. Her eyes were bloodshot, her nose runny and her overall appearance disheveled. Despite that, just the fact that she was there, to him, made her the most beautiful girl in the world.

Arvin could tell she was holding herself back, her emotions, too, as she started to speak, barely able to get through a sentence as she rambled about how she shouldn’t have assumed things, and that it wasn’t right of her to accuse her beloved of something so dire. But none of it mattered to Arvin as he strode towards her, her words only ceasing when he finally wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m so sorry, Arv.” She sobbed, gripping onto him for dear life. That was all she said, repeating it over and over again with the exception of “I love you” also being reiterated.

Her husband spoke over her hushed tone, saying “It’s alright, doll, I know. You were right to think that, it’s not your fault. It was never your fault.” They continued that way for some time until they both regained their bearings, Arvin wrapping an arm around her shoulders and walking down the front stairs of the chapel.

“Let’s go home, sweet girl.” He had said, so they did. Arvin kissed the side of her head, regarding once more how he loved her, before starting the ride home, his hand on her thigh the whole time, not wanting to let her go for even a second.

His mind was plagued with thoughts of the past, and he remembered an old saying he had heard long ago. What was it? Ah, you know what they say.

“Heavy is the head that wears the crown.”

·。·。·。

how we feeling folks did we like? gimme feedback if u wanna! mwah love u, take care of urself

xx hj

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auxiliarydetective · 2 years ago

Text

No, I mean, what's your gender? - Whatever I want it to be.

I did it. I knew I would eventually, but I tried to ignore it. Everyone meet my A-Team OC. @datasgirlfriend Feast your eyes on what you have helped to create!

Their name is Anne "Karma" Kelley (she/they). In modern terms, they'd probably call themselves genderfluid, but in the show, she'd just give a shrug or sassy remark whenever asked about her gender due to the time the show takes place and was written in. It would also only use she/her pronouns for her.

Karma is relatively tall for an afab person, standing at around 5'7" or 170cm tall. She's slim and muscular and usually binds her chest if she's not presenting as 1000% fem. One of her most defining features are her birth marks - that the A-Team thought were bruises upon first meeting her since they could only see the one around her left eye. She also has one across her right shoulder and arm and at the back of her left thigh. Her skin is tanned and freckled, her eyes are a very dark brown and her hair is short and dark blonde. Have some more meikers for reference since none of them perfectly show what she looks like:

I might also make a sim of her to see if I can do it better. Either way, moving on:

Anne is their deadname and they'll turn into a raging demon if anyone ever calls them that. The A-Team knows this and they go to all lengths to avoid it. Even if she's presenting as very feminine (for a job, for example), the guys will come up with some way to avoid both her deadname and her chosen name, Karma, because they know it's a bit of a rare one. Depending on the situation, they'll either call her "Miss Kelley", "Kelly" and variations of that name. Face, however, always pulls out his arsenal of terms of endearment and he takes great delight in watching her not being allowed to yell or curse at him for it.

Her "official" A-Team nickname is Kit. Hannibal was the first to use it, though it's unclear if he didn't call her "kid" instead. Face picked up on it and he absolutely loves using the name. The guys all insist it stands for her skills with her makeup kit and a toolkit, but it's pretty obvious that it's an excuse to compare her to a kitten.

Which brings me to Kit's skill set: Using makeup and a fitting outfit, they can make themselves look like a men or women of varying facial shapes - and they can act the part too! Think of drag queens and kings and the way they reshape their face with contour and highlighter. Specifically, Kit does an eerily accurate impersonation of Face, even when viewed up close. Whenever the A-Team uses it in a mission, they refer to it as the "Two-Faced" strategy. She can also do an impression of Murdock, but she finds it hard to get the mannerisms right ("I'm just not insane, Hannibal, I can't come up with what to do or say!"), plus height really becomes an issue with him, so she only does it from afar. With Face, it still more or less works since subtle platforms exist. Kit is also a more than decent mechanic, acting as B.A.'s assistant at times or taking over for him if he can't reach something because he's too big. A former trapeze artist, Kit is strong, flexible and athletic. Any sort of climbing and parcour action usually falls on their shoulders once they're really accepted into the team. They're also a fast runner and will not hesitate to kick or punch someone - or slap, in Face's case. After all, they need him to stay pretty or whatever, so she doesn't hit him too hard.

I think it's become pretty clear that Kit and Face's relationship is pretty special. I mean, we know Face, the ladies' man. To him, Kit is lady enough (though she's considered one of the boys by the likes of B.A. and Hannibal) for him to be flirting with her. He likes teasing her a lot and she knows how to take it, sassing him in return. This is very much a "I would never fall for you!" situation. We all know she will, maybe she already has, but will she admit it? Hell no.

B.A. sees her as a younger sibling. A very feral younger sibling. He might not show it, but he's secretly very proud whenever she beats someone up.

Hannibal has basically adopted her. Something along the lines of "don't you ever tame your demons but always keep them on a leash".

Murdock and Karma are chaotic queer besties, challenging the concept of gender and any kind of normativity together.

The story of how she met the A-Team may also be coming your way. This may be a brainrot. Sound the alarm...

@starlightocs @starlit-ocs

#the a team #a team oc #oc: kit kelley

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 4 years ago

Note

any possibility that we get to read how that conversation with namjoon/jimin/jk went down??????? Like.. that final got me in tear from laughing so hard 😂😂😂 NAMJOON REALLY SUGGESTED THAT TO JK??!!! LIKE HOW???

I asked ‘calculated’ Jungkook about it and this is what he told me...

extension of part iv; 1k drabble

“You dropped your phone.”

Jeon Jungkook didn’t know how to feel about Kim Namjoon. He recognized him from that time before and, although his girlfriend had assured him that they were just friends, he had to slap her tits to get it out of her, so he wasn’t so sure.

Okay, he could have asked like a normal person, but he was upset, she was upset, and the moment was sexually charged. Also, she had great tits.

Those dimples were suspicious. Jungkook narrowed his eyes, inspecting Namjoon’s behavior as the older man’s eyes widened, full lips forming a small ‘o’. Namjoon had swept back brown hair, dark tan skin, wore a brown patterned sweater and khakis with cute sneakers. He looked like a nerd. Jungkook doubted they had anything in common. Also, Namjoon was taller than him, which annoyed Jungkook a little.

“Ah, shit, my bad, thanks man.”

Jungkook’s thumb touched the phone screen and it lit up, revealing Namjoon’s lock screen as Jungkook handed it over. The younger man’s eyes widened, recognizing the picture instantly.

Namjoon crammed his phone into his pocket.

“I know that comic.”

Namjoon looked up, tilting his head. “Huh?”

Jungkook ticked his chin to Namjoon’s pants pocket. “You phone background. I know the comic.”

There was a moment of hesitation as Namjoon shifted his eyes. Something changed in those brown orbs, darkening just a little, and it was a look that Jungkook recognized, because he himself had that gaze, especially when he looked at his girlfriend.

“Oh, really? It’s pretty obscure,” Namjoon commented casually, although there was nothing casual about the sudden devious smile that appeared.

“I have specific interests.”

It became a stare down. Namjoon raised an eyebrow and Jungkook lifted his chin, tense electricity sparking between them. Both of them were waiting on Park Jimin, who was supposed to be here any second now, but as usual, Jimin was dilly-dallying. It didn’t matter though, because the mood was different now, and suddenly the other became much more interesting. Because Kim Namjoon had a BDSM sex comic character as his phone background. Sure, the picture itself was innocent because the character was in everyday clothes hugging their partner, but Jungkook recognized it instantly.

Hey, Jungkook had to get ideas somewhere. It wasn’t like he had a role model.

Namjoon smirked. “Something tells me you’re not the sub.”

Jungkook chuckled darkly. “You’re not either.”

“Nope.”

That’s why you’ve been talking to her, Jungkook thought.

“Hey.”

Jungkook gave Namjoon a curious look. The older male reached into his pocket and pulled out a small object.

“You ever use one of these?”

Jungkook’s eyes flitted to the egg-shaped silicone vibrator. Cordless. It was royal blue. It must have an accompanying remote.

“No.”

He could have lied, but he didn’t. There was no reason to.

Namjoon pocketed it again, smiling innocently. “Maybe you should invest in one.”

Jungkook clicked his tongue. Namjoon seemed satisfied. It seemed like a random gesture, but Jungkook didn’t take it that way. He felt that the older man simply did that just to flex on him. Subtly asserting his dominance to another dom. Jungkook did not like being challenged. He was fiercely competitive.

“When did you know that was what you were into?”

Jungkook looked up. “What?”

Namjoon shrugged, looking somewhat embarrassed. “I’m just curious. I’ve never met someone who knew where my phone wallpaper was from.” Namjoon laughed sheepishly, dimples appearing. “Everyone just assumes it’s some nerdy comic.”

Jungkook blinked. He hadn’t expected that. “Uh… I don’t know. I guess I always was, but it wasn’t something my partners were into, so I never really got to do what I wanted.”

Namjoon nodded, sighing. “Yeah, I get you. It’s the same for me. You always have to compromise.”

“Not always.”

Namjoon turned his head to stare at Jungkook. The younger man smiled, mole under his lower lip appearing.

“Ah, sorry, guys! I had to hunt down the teacher to find Namjoon-hyung’s USB!”

Both men turned to see a pink-faced Jimin puffing his cheeks, holding up the blue USB drive triumphantly, hurrying to them as he shouldered his backpack.

“Oh, thank God, that’s my last USB,” Namjoon said with relief, gratefully accepting it from Jimin. “I keep losing them.”

Jimin shook his head. “For such a smart guy, you sure lose a lot of stuff.” The shorter man looked from Jungkook to Namjoon. He seemed to feel a sense of comradery between the two. “What were you guys talking about?”

Namjoon chuckled. “Nothing much. Gotta go!”

Jimin blinked as Namjoon bolted off at warp speed, ears pink. He tilted his head as Jungkook began to walk, the younger man humming to himself.

“You’re in a good mood,” Jimin commented. “Usually, you’re annoyed when I ask you to give me a ride.”

Jungkook grinned.

“I just got a good idea, that’s all.”

Later, something clicked in Jimin’s brain. He abruptly sat up in his bed, scrambling for his phone, and called Jungkook immediately. At first the younger man didn’t answer, but by the fifth phone call, Jimin heard it connect and Jungkook’s annoyed sigh.

“Why are you calling me, Jimin-ssi? I told you I was visiting noona today.”

“Was it about noona?” Jimin chirped excitedly.

Jimin heard the sound of metal on wood. Speedy, firm chops of a knife.

“Was what about noona?” Jungkook muttered.

“Your idea the other day. The idea you got him Namjoon-hyung. You must have got it from hyung, because you seemed so happy after talking to him and I thought you hated that guy because he’s definitely into noona.”

The knife stopped. Jimin heard Jungkook click his tongue. Ah! He was right. Jimin grinned to himself.

“What was it? Tell me.”

“Why do you wanna know?”

“Of course, I wanna know. Don’t forget, I was the one who gave you all the details of her schedule, kept watch for you during office hours, and suggested to Namjoon-hyung to ask noona for help during Career Week. And picked up her stuff and got Namjoon off her tail when you took too long. I wanna know. Tell me.”

He heard Jungkook grunt in annoyance.

“He had a remote-controlled vibrator with him.”

Jimin’s eyebrows shot up. He remembered Namjoon’s face, his grim expression as he patted her on the shoulder and told her good luck. Oh. So Namjoon must have been a little depressed that Jungkook got to her before him and also realized he had doomed his friend at the same time.

“So, is he like you or wha–”

“I gotta cook my woman dinner. Bye.”

Click.

Jimin yanked his phone away from his ear, glaring at it. That little shit. Never mind. He swiped around and found the number he wanted. Ring! Ring! Namjoon answered quickly.

“Hey Jimin, what’s–”

“Are you a dom or a sub, hyung?”

Jimin heard the sudden spitting of liquid everywhere. Namjoon’s tea was all over his desk now.

“WHAT?”

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geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde · 4 years ago

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Sun Shines Bright

I had the honor of co-writing a fic with my most dearest of soulmates @jaskierswolf for @lindianaj0nes birthday! Happy birthday Linda!!!!!!

All the good parts of this fic were written by Wolfie and the rest was me 😂

Lambden

Warnings: self image/body insecurities, mentions of past bullying

Lambert wasn’t sure what was brighter, the sun shining through the windshield of their car or the smile lighting up Aiden’s face as he made another joke. He practically radiated the sun’s rays back with how vibrant he was. Aiden’s personality was everything Lambert’s had never been, bright, optimistic, joyous. He loved the man more than words could possibly say.

A speedbump brought Lambert back to reality, grimacing as Aiden pulled into a parking spot at the beach. They wasted no time getting out of the car, already pulling off his shirt to soak in the warmth from the sun. He had been thrilled by the idea of a beach trip and the second it had become warm enough he had begun begging Lambert to join him. It had taken a lot of convincing on Aiden’s part and Lambert had really only conceded because he knew it would make his boyfriend happy. He honestly hated the beach.

The last time he actually remembered being at the beach, he had probably been thirteen or fourteen and he had been laughed at until he had retreated to Vesemir’s side to hide in the shade of an umbrella. Lambert had always been incredibly pale. His black hair and dark brown eyes stood in a stark contrast to how pale he always was. Even when he did spend time out in the sun he never really seemed to tan, he simply burned.

And sure, he and Aiden had been together for going on six months, and he had certainly seen Lambert in all states of undress, but he had never seen Lambert out in the sun like this. Lambert had been called ghostly before, complaints had been made that he reflected the light back, blinding everyone around him with his unnaturally pale skin. Until he began to grow redder and redder, of course and then the insults changed. His pink tinged skin had been compared to that of a hot dog and, when he really reddened, he had been compared to a lobster.

He wasn’t ready for Aiden to see him like this.

They were polar opposites in this regard, Lambert’s pale complexion was incredibly different from the deep olive tone that Aiden sported in the winter months which easily darkened a few shades when he was finally able to get out in the sunlight.

Aiden was just… beautiful.

A knock to the window beside him jolted him from his reverie. Aiden was standing outside the car, staring curiously at Lambert.

Lambert pushed open the door slowly and slid out of the car, shooting a hesitant smile at Aiden, “Sorry, got lost in my own thoughts.”

Drawing Lambert in close, Aiden tilted his head to the side as he studied his boyfriend closely, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Lambert responded, trying and failing to sound unbothered.

Aiden reached up, framing Lambert’s face with his hands, “Hey, what’s going on? Talk to me, Lamb.”

“I just… don’t have the best memories of the beach.” Lambert turned his head, knocking away Aiden’s hands.

Aiden sighed, running a hand through his hair, but he didn’t make any attempt to push the matter. Lambert was grateful for that. He never reacted well when he was backed into a corner, having a tendency to lash out at the ones he loved. That was why he’d been alone for so long, to the point where he’d begun to feel unlovable.

Aiden had changed that.

Aiden had been the one to thaw out his heart, to carefully take down the walls that Lambert had spent years building up with every insult that was thrown his way. If he could trust anyone with this, it was him, but that didn’t stop the nerves from crawling over his skin. It didn’t stop his heart from fluttering in his chest like a damn hummingbird.

He sighed, reaching up to run a hand through his hair only to realise his boyfriend had done exactly that just moments ago. He snorted. They’d just been berating Geralt and Jaskier for acting like an old married couple just the week before, and now he was doing the same thing with Aiden, mirroring his boyfriend without even realizing.

Fucking hell, he was smitten.

He took a deep breath as he tried to gather his thoughts, tried to find a way to explain the storm of emotions brewing inside him. It wasn’t easy, but then neither were relationships. That’s what everyone kept telling him, but Aiden was worth the effort.

Aiden was worth everything that Lambert could give him.

He reached for Aiden’s hand without words, lacing their fingers together. Aiden’s other hand cupped his cheek and he leaned into the touch, letting it ground him. The warmth of Aiden’s palm against his skin calmed the storm, gave him strength to be vulnerable.

“Kids are cruel,” he started, squeezing Aiden’s hand and pressing his forehead against his boyfriend’s. “I was different, pale… too pale, a ghost.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Aiden whispered, looking at Lambert with such adoration that he almost wanted to run. It was too much, too overwhelming, but his gaze didn’t waver. He was stronger than his past. He could learn to take the affection that his boyfriend was so determined to lavish upon him.

“Then I’d start to burn,” he continued before Aiden could distract him, he needed to finish. Perhaps he could get that closure that his therapist was always telling him about. “Fucking lobster!” he spat out, the word bitter in his mouth.

Aiden’s eyes were a burning fire. He was Lambert’s sun, but right now he was a blazing inferno of rage. “I wish I could murder every bastard who made you feel anything less than perfect,” his boyfriend hissed, gritting his teeth and tensing up his jaw.

Lambert rolled his eyes and pressed a kiss to Aiden’s forehead. “No one is perfect, love.”

“You are.”

“No, I’m not, and neither are you,” Lambert teased, “but imperfect is beautiful.”

Aiden snorted, shaking his head as he pulled Lambert in for a chaste kiss. “You’ve been hanging out with Jask too much.” Lambert shrugged. He wasn’t going to admit that he’d stolen the line from their friend. He was quite content to plagiarize. No one needed to know. “You’re a bastard, Lamb.”

Lambert grinned. “And you love me.”

Aiden’s own smile turned coy, and Lambert recognized the mischievous glint in his boyfriend’s eyes. His hands slid up the inside of Lambert’s shirt, and he placed a kiss to the corner of Lambert’s mouth. “I promise that I won’t laugh, sweetheart. I just want to enjoy a day in the sun with my boyfriend, and that includes rubbing sunscreen on your back, maybe even your front… anywhere I’m allowed.”

Lambert scoffed, rolling his eyes as he captured Aiden’s lips in a kiss, mostly to shut him up. Not only did Lambert burn easily, but he also blushed brighter than a tomato. It was embarrassing and Aiden loved it. “I’ll still burn,” he mumbled against his boyfriend’s lips.

“Even more reason to make sure I don’t miss a single spot,” Aiden practically purred.

“Can’t believe you’re trying to seduce me with sunscreen,” Lambert groaned, pressing his face into Aiden’s shoulder.

Aiden laughed, and just like that all the tension eased from Lambert’s body. Lambert hated how much the bastard could affect him, he wasn’t used to it. He wasn’t used to letting someone into his heart, but somehow Aiden had managed it. “Is it working?” Aiden asked, his fingers running up the length of Lambert’s spine.

“Maybe.”

“That’s a yes.”

“That’s a maybe, cocky little shit,” Lambert growled.

Aiden cupped Lambert’s cheek, pulling his face up so they were gazing into each other’s eyes. “I love you.”

Lambert smiled, a warmth glowing in his chest. “I love you too,” he mumbled back, his cheeks undoubtedly burning a bright red.

Aiden’s laughter was sweet, a balm against the hurt from his childhood, and Lambert knew that his boyfriend was laughing with him, not at him. He was just happy.

Happy.

That was a thought, Lambert smiled and ducked his head to hide his blush. He rather liked happiness, and happiness was found in Aiden.

“So,” Aiden began, “will you join me on the beach? If you don’t want to we can go home.”

Lambert shook his head, unable to stop smiling, “I’ll join you, but you better make good on that sunscreen promise.”

“You won’t be able to keep my hands off of you.” Aiden responded, leading the way toward the beach.

Lambert looked around him, taking in the brilliantly blue sky and the sun's reflection off the waves of the ocean and felt peace. It was long past time for him to make some good associations with the beach and with Aiden by his side, this would undoubtedly be the best association he could make.

Check out my masterlist!

Tag list: @stinastar @feraljaskier @bastardofmothman @hailhailsatan @moonysrz @its-onions @elliestormfound @dapandapod @jaskierswolf @fontegagrilledcheese @negativenuggetz @veritasrose @feral-jaskier @kozkaboi @kueble @llamasdumpsterfire @selectivegeekwithstandards @dani-dandelino

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fandom #fanfiction #lambden #laiden #lambert #aiden

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rightsockjin · 4 years ago

Text

Reaction: Autumn Dates

Bts boys take their bb out on a date in spooky fall season.

warnings: suggestive themes, Jungkook is an ass who also holds your ass. lots of kissing, Jimin is a gentleman, Taes reaction... is a bit long hehe. I believe that is all

a/n: Yo this took way too long to write wow, I blame school sorry anon but I hope you enjoy the writing.

Jin

“Jagiya~ look, Yoongi and his girlfriend brought apples and a pumpkin. Do you want to learn how to make pie?” He said, taking the produce from the countertop and walking it to the kitchen. Jin liked to teach you to cook and bake. You had never gotten the chance to learn how and you never really had an interest but it was something Jin really enjoyed doing so you had decided to give it a shot.

“Did you ask Yoongi if we could use these? You know how… touchy” you said, shooting a pained look in Jin's direction, “he gets when it comes with anything that has to do with his girlfriend.”

He shrugged and dismissed your claim

“I don’t think they’ll mind.”

He set the pumpkin in the sink and began to wash it, making sure to pay extra close attention to the lines going down the pumpkin. He did the same with the apples as you got some bowls and ingredients for the pies.

“Jagi, I need you to add cinnamon, brown sugar and butter in a pot. I’ve just measured everything out, just turn the stove on and put it on medium heat and stir until there are really slow bubbles rising to the top.”

You nod, semi-understanding his instructions as you walk to the stove, anxious but excited to start. You hear Jin chopping the fruit in the background as you stir the now sticky liquid. You watch carefully as the bubbles start to rise. You feel Jin's presence behind you, so you smile. He bumps your hip slightly as a slight plea for you to scooch. You do and he scoops in the apples he sliced into the goopy mixture and added just a little bit of water to make it a little runnier. You grabbed onto Jin's midsection and pressed a peck on his shoulder.

“This looks good baby; the syrup was perfect.” You watched as he swirled the spoon in the pot and turned down the heat. He fished out one of the slices and blew on it to cool it down a little, then he turned to you.

“Open.” You hesitated at Jin's gesture, though you comply and let your boyfriend feed you. You let the syrupy apple rest in your mouth for a second before you start to chew and the flavor explodes in your mouth. Your eyes widen at the flavor Jin nods while giving you a knowing look as if he was saying right.

He asked you to roll out the dough while he continues to prep for the pumpkin pie. You sit at the island after finishing the tasks admiring your handsome boyfriend. You loved to watch Jin cook. He looked so in his element, like he was meant to be doing this. Plus, it didn’t hurt that he looked great in an apron. Eomma Jin was your favorite Jin. The kitchen soon filled with the smell of the sweet apple pie. The two of you waited for the pies to finish cuddled up on the couch of the living room.

“Jagi?” Before you even got a chance to turn, he grabbed your chin and sealed your lips with his. You rested your hands on his broad chest. The kiss was sweet and passionate, and tasted faintly of the apples and the sugar Jin wanted to let you know how much he appreciated you spending time with him today. His hands landed softly on your jawline pulling back slightly. His eyes swept your features and he mumbled a soft ‘wow’ under his breath. You let out a breathy giggle as your eyes darted down to where your hands were joined. You felt your cheeks heat up as his nose grazed your own.

“Han bon man?”* he said into your ear. You looked back up at him with a shaky breath and latched your lips back onto his.

He wane off of the kiss slightly, causing you to peck at his plush lips when you hear footsteps coming from the hallway across the room.

“What happened to the pumpkin we brought home?” Instantly you and Jin froze, now in fear of the small man’s -Yoongi’s- temper. You guys knew you were in for a long night.

*one more?

Yoongi

“Yoongi, catch up! Why are you walking so slow?” You said, trudging towards the entrance of the Farmers Market. Autumn had finally arrived, and you were excited to do the activities that came along with it and first on your list was picking apples. You stopped mid trudge to wait for your lagging boyfriend. He looked cute today, not that he didn’t look cute every day. It was just today he was extra soft. This morning he asked you to match. Though if anybody asked him, he would say that it’s just a coincidence. You were wearing a slightly oversized tan sweater with a black corduroy overall, and for shoes you decided to wear your black iridescent Dr. martens and a cute dark brown tote bag. While Yoongi wore his signature black jeans with black high-top converse. Similar to you he was adorned with a tan oversized sweater and a fuzzy black beanie to finish off his fit.

“The view from back here is amazing,” he stated back. His strides grew a bit wider to reach you. Finally, after catching up he grabs your arm and links his pinky finger with yours. You tilt your head up at him noticing his gaze is directed down at his feet. His lips purse in an attempt to keep his gummy smile at bay. You giggle at his effort and continue walking past the sunflower field entrance and the pumpkin patch.

You both make it to the apple orchard part of the market and grab a wicker basket to put your harvest in. The both of you wander around for about an hour, wandering around the beautiful trees.

Your legs had started to become tired from all the walking. You began to look around to find a nice place to sit when you noticed you had wandered close to the pumpkin patch. You stare longingly at the families walking around picking out bright orange pumpkins. The sight pulls lightly at your heart. Yoongi looks over at you and sees your hand clenched softly over your chest.

“Wanna jump over to the pumpkin patch, Kitten?” His hand rubs softly up and down your back. You nod and jump over the small fence separating the pumpkin patch from the apple trees. Together, you find a large grassy area around the patch where couples and families were lounging and the both of you decide that it feels like a suitable place to set your picnic blanket. The spot the two of you had chosen was relatively secluded from the rest of the visitors, located right under of the beautiful apple trees that you had surveyed earlier that afternoon. You reach into your bag to grab your drinks handing the blanket to your ever so graceful boyfriend. He begins to unfurl the blanket by violently shaking the folds out of the fabric. The thwack of the blanket sounded loudly behind Yoongi.

“Ow!”

“Oh no baby.” Yoongi grabbed on your offended hip with one hand and cupped your check with the other. “Mianhaeyo.”

He littered your face with a plethora of tiny kisses running along your face and neck. Between the kisses small, hushed apologies were pressed into your skin. His eyes catch yours which stop him mid-peck. His hand makes its way up to the nape of your neck. He pauses for a second, his eyes lock on your lips.

They brush against yours. You smile and kiss him back while your hands wander up his chest and his cards through your hair. You giggle into the kiss and allow him to take the lead. He guides you to sit on the semi extended blanket. Sitting down and making room for you to sit between his legs as his hands wrap around your waist. You both talked about everything under the sun, between soft kisses and walking around the pumpkin patch picking out the pumpkins that look like one another.

Hoseok

Hoseok had planned out your entire day. The stress from work, as per usual, had been making him a little snappy. So, to calm his temper he decided to ask for the day off and treat you to a date. You were ecstatic when he told you this news, though you weren’t quite as excited when you learned that he planned on waking up at the butt-crack of dawn.

Hobi woke you up at around five in the morning. Even though both of you loved to sleep in, he insisted on starting today early. You began to get ready, deciding on some soft stretchy jeans and one of Hoseok’s oversized t-shirts knotted at your stomach and a cute pair of baby pink converse. Hope grabs your hand and leads you quickly out the door.

Hoseok had driven for about thirty minutes of which twenty-five of them you spent snoring softly leaning against the cold window. Hobi parked the car somewhere near the farmers market and turned the car off. He looks over at your sleeping form and spends a second admiring you. He sighs happily and reaches over to move a strand of your hair from your squished face.

“Sunshine, baby wake up. We’re here.” He whispered into your ear. He reached down to unbuckle your seatbelt and pulled it up and over your head. You let out a soft groan as you begin to wake and rub at your tired eyes. You peek out of the car window and notice that the sun was still not out. You stretch your arms out in front of you and turn your body to face your man.

“Good morning,” you whisper while throwing a soft smile in his direction.

“So, what’s the plan?” You look around the car trying to take in your surroundings in your slightly groggy state. He grabbed your hand and gave you lips a quick peck.

“Waiting, and maybe a little walking…” You raised an eyebrow at him, anxious to know what he was planning for the day. “Trust me beautiful, can you please grab the bag in the back seat?” You nod and reach behind the armrest and grab the tote from behind you.

He turns off the car and walks around to your side and opens the door for you. You step out happily and grab his large hand. He looked down at where your hands joined. He loved the way your hand disappeared in his. He squeezed your hand and pulled you into his side so that he could his arm around your shoulders.

You in turn wrapped your arm around his torso and rested your head on his shoulder.

“Look baby, I wanted to come up here to see the sunrise with you. I think we still have about five minutes until the break of dawn. What on earth can we do in five minutes?” You stroked his chin in mock thought. You giggled and turned him to face you, your free hand wrapped around his torso and you pulled him closer towards you.

His hands reached to hook around your neck. You tilted your head up, your lip barely grazing his. He cupped your cheek and pulled you into him. You smiled into the kiss after biting his bottom lip lightly. He groaned at your action and pressed his forehead on yours ,shrugging towards the rising sun. You scrunch your nose and pressed your lips to his, sealing the kiss with all the passion you could muster this early in the morning.

“I love you Y/N,” he said into your lips as the sun rose behind you to greet the day.

Namjoon

It had been a while since you and Namjoon had gone out on a date. Finally, both of you had a free day that matched both of your schedules. Recently you had found this app which let you look for little treasures around your area so you decided to devote your day to finding these trinkets. You sat in the dorm living room looking for a suitable route for the day. Luckily for you there were plenty of geocaches around for the two of you to choose from. You took into consideration the proximity of the locations of the drops finding the closest ones since Namjoon said he felt like walking today. Not that he really had a choice.

You finalized your day and headed out. Namjoon grabbed your bag and his while you put on your comfortable shoes.You grab at your bag in his hand, but he holds onto it tightly. You tug a little harder but his grasp on the bag stays firm. You look up at your tall boyfriend confused, his eyes meet yours and he pulls you close to him with the bag in hand. You crashed into his muscular chest with a loud thump. His hands quickly wrapped around your waist.

“Kiss me?” His eyes glimmered, and his dimples became present, accompanying the bright smile.

Your arms wrapped around his waist as you shifted your weight onto your toes. You placed a small kiss on the small, dark mole on his chin. He smiled down at you and laced his lips with yours, quickly pulling away.

“Kaja.” He breathed down at you and he slipped your tote up your arm placing a small kiss onto your jacketed shoulder.

Joon had an affinity with matching clothes with you. Today you even let him choose your outfit. It seemed like he was going for an earth toned color palette this morning. He chose a cool toned brown plaid skirt, a beige long sleeved top, with a beige jean jacket and a tan beanie and a matching bag. He wore light brown tweed pants and a white crewneck. Above that he sported tan cotton button up and a brown beanie that matched your skirt. He laced his fingers with yours and led you out of the house.

You and your boyfriend walked hand in hand to a small coffee shop. The air was chilled and it seeped into your skin. The parts that were exposed were filled with goosebumps. Namjoon pulled you closer to him, his body heat satiating you.

The hint on the applications for the geocaching was ‘corner’, so before you walked in you both checked the eastern-most corner of the outside of the building. Both of you tapped the bricks that lined up to the edge of the small building. When you got to the eighth brick you noticed that it felt hollow. You grabbed onto it as tightly as you could and wiggled the “brick” and pulled it out from its resting place. You shook the box and inspected it to figure out how to open it. Namjoon came up behind you and placed his chin on your shoulder. He began to wrap his thick arms around your waist. After a couple of seconds of aimlessly tapping the box you hear a click, you stopped shaking the small vessel. You grabbed at the now obvious lid of the box and tore it open.

“Namjoonie, look! There's a little velvet box.” You grabbed the box out of the container. Namjoon let go of your waist and took the box from your delicate hands. He grabs your right hand and lifted you hand to his mouth, placing a small kiss onto your knuckle. You look up at him confused.

“So, I hid this… yesterday. But this has been something I have been meaning to do for a while now.” He opens the box to show two white gold rings.

“This isn’t a proposal, this is a promise… that I want to make for us. I’m sure you know that I am a busy man, so this is a placeholder. So, when I can truly dedicate myself to you I can give you the ring for your left hand.”

Your eyes well up as he picks the ring out of the box and begins to slide the ring around your ring finger. You reach out to him and pull yourself to his chest and plant a soft passionate kiss on his plush lips.

He wipes the tear from your cheek and kisses your forehead. Then he brings up your hand to his plush mouth and kissed your finger. He slid the ring onto your shaking hand then did the same for his own.You smile up a him as your fingers entwined together, another matching accessory for your outfits intact.

Jimin

“Jagiya~ are you excited Jagiya?” Jimin swung your hand excitedly as you walked to the brewery. Tae had given Jimin his reservations for a small new brewery that was opening up near the dorms.

“I am very excited! I heard the place's aesthetic is really cute. We can take nice pictures.” As you walked you admired the pretty browning trees. Leaves fell around the two of you as the breeze picked up. You huddled up to Jimin, causing him to put your dainty hands in his pocket making sure to keep you warm. You plant a meaningful peck on his covered shoulder to cover up the fact that you just wanted to nuzzle into his soft jacket to warm up your cold nose. He smiles down at you as you’re finally getting to your destination. He opens the door for you like the gentleman he is and pushes you into the warm restaurant.

You walk into the building with Jimin in tow and you’re greeted with the smell of oak and pine. The interior of the brewery was really cozy, filled with warm toned browns, and comfortable booths. You and Jimin are escorted to a more secluded part of the floor by the manager. Finally, you’re able to sit comfortably without the fear of people crashing your date. Even though the location was small, you felt safe next to your boyfriend.

“You look so beautiful jagi.” He observed you as you stripped out of your fuzzy brown jacket. Jimin really loved to see you all dressed up. Not that he didn’t love how you looked in your natural state, it was just that he loved to see you dolled up for him. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. It was like the universe was playing tricks on him. You were glowing under the dim light hanging above you. He admired the way you had styled your hair away from your beautiful face. He loved that it exposed the silky skin of your neck. Suddenly he felt like he had to be near you.

“Do you think… it would be weird if I sat next to you?” His hand instinctively reached up to rub at the nape of his neck. Even in the dim lighting you could see a slight red tint reach all the way up to your new boyfriend’s ears. You giggled scooting over in the booth, patting the space next to you. Quickly he climbed over to your side of the table and placed a small peck on your cheek. Jimin began to ask you more about yourself. Yes you had been friends with him before you began dating, but he wanted to make sure to know everything there was to know about you. He asked you about your job as a museum curator, about your family, your likes and dislikes and any other topic under the sun he could think of. He told you about the coming album, and how he got into dancing amongst other more personal things. You hadn’t even noticed when the waitress brought you your drinks and food, too busy listening to Jimin talk about his time in foreign countries. This date made everything fall into place. The two of you had become increasingly cozy now that you had a full belly and a bit of liquid courage in your system. The conversation began to slowly cease, and the tension became more tangible around the two of you. He lolled his head back and let out a hearty sigh. He closed his eyes and made to look back into your glimmering eyes. He opened his deep brown eyes and leaned in close to you. You felt his warm breath on your lips which made you let out a shaky breath. His hand grabbed at your hip rubbing gentle circles with his thumb as if to calm your rampaging nerves. He took another long inhale and rubbed his nose on yours.

“Can… can I k-kiss you?” he whispered. You pressed your soft lips to his plush ones. You loved that even here, he was a gentleman. He squeezed your hip just to confirm that he wasn’t dreaming and that this was actually taking place real time. Once he felt your flesh in his palm he smiled into the kiss, hoping to never have to let you go which excited him leading him to think of the following dates and your future together.

Taehyung

Taehyung asked you to wear something blue. Why? No idea, but he seemed excited when he asked you so you did. Tae came home at around four in the afternoon with a new camera in tow.

“I can take more beautiful pictures of my baby.” He walked up to you giving you a tiny kiss on your forehead. He looked down at you, making sure that you were wearing what he asked you to. When he noticed that you listened to him, he grabbed your chin and tilted your face up to him. He lovingly placed another small kiss on the tip of your nose. He took the car keys out of his pocket and began to make his way back to his vehicle.

“So, on my way back from work the other day I noticed that the big farmers market opened.” You told him as he drove around aimlessly hoping to see a location that caught his attention.

“I was reading the signs that they were putting up around it and it said that they had a sunflower field,” you said while drawing little figures in the condensation you produced on your window.

“We should go visit one day.” Your boyfriend's hand snaked over to your side of the car. He felt around for it for a second until he found your warm palm, quickly lacing his fingers with yours.

“How does today sound?” He said as he checked his mirrors to switch lanes. You nodded with happiness and surprise taking your phone out to look for the directions. Tae was always so thoughtful.

It was about a twenty-minute drive to the farmers market. Tae quickly found a parking spot and rushed to gather his things. You hopped out of the car and ran over to his side to see if he needed any help with his equipment. You grabbed the backpack he was holding from his hands as he secured the camera around his neck. He checked to make sure there was storage and enough battery to last for the photo shoot, thankful everything was set. He took back the bag, insisting that he wouldn’t be able to get any pretty pictures of you as you walk to the field. You conceded and slipped the bag up his long arms making sure that it sat comfortably on his muscular shoulders.

The two of you began walking into the large yet quaint market. Tae took note of things he would want to buy as you walked past the produce and some interesting artisanal item tents. You hiked past the apple orchard and the pumpkin patch to get to the sunflower meadow. You stood in front of it in awe. Of course you thought it would be a pretty location, because of the flowers and what not. Though you had not expected to see the golden flowers just beaming beautifully. There were arches where they wrapped the longer flowers, and little alleyways that lead to small openings with big, beautiful trees. Every few trees would come accompanied with wooden swing and twinkling fairy lights. It looked like someone had pulled it from a fairytale. You looked back at your boyfriend. He seemed to be in awe of the field’s beauty.

“Wow.” You both whispered in near unison. You grabbed onto his hands and pulled him towards one of the trees with the wooden swing. He yanked his camera out of its case and began snapping pictures of you pulling him through the flowers. You got to the tiny clearing and began to explore.

He made sure to take pictures of anything and everything, not really caring if they came out perfect. The sun had begun to set as you guys made your way towards the front of the field.

“Let’s look at the sunset.” You suggested as you slowly slinked down to sit on the grass. He sat next to you as he put his camera into its case. You grabbed his hand, tugging on it softly to rush him to sit next to you.

He sat close to you and placed his head on your shoulder. You planted a peck on the top of head, your delicate fingers ran though his soft locks to help him relax further into your hold. Suddenly your eyes began to water, your breathing became choppy, and a soft smile graced your face. You looked down at your boyfriend, noticing that he was already looking up at you with a goofy smile on his handsome face.

“I love you y/n,” he stated before kissing the palm of the hand that was playing with his hair. You bent down slowly until you felt his lips press to yours. You giggled into his mouth and moved back to look straight into his eyes.

“I love you too.”

Jungkook

“Fuck! Jungkook.” You yelled out into the dark. Your wonderful, adrenaline junkie boyfriend decided it was a good idea to take you to a haunted corn maze on a date.

“Mmm, it’s been a while since I’ve heard your dirty mouth babe.” He took advantage of the fact that you brought him home to celebrate your Mom’s birthday. In Korea they didn’t really celebrate Halloween so he didn’t know when he would get the opportunity to take you on a spooky October date.

“Oh my Gosh stop~” you whined, making grabby hands at your boyfriend. You caught his shirt and pulled your face flush against it trying your hardest to completely block your vision. You feel his arm wrap wound your shaking shoulders which immediately calms your rampaging nerves.

He looked down at you and chuckled, tightening his arms around your uncharacteristically frail body. He walks you further down the maze, coming across a few more spooks which startle you.

“Jungkook!” You yelled as another figure jumped out of the lush greenery.

“Please walk faster.” But instead of listening to your polite plea he stops. He stops at the absolute worst place to stop. There was a large clearing at the halfway point of the maze, and in that clearing they always put the worst scares. You tapped his shoulder repeatedly, silently asking him to keep moving. Yet he stood his ground which began to worry you. What if he saw something that scared him enough to stunt him? You decided to take one for the love of your life and dislocated yourself from the safety of Jungkook’s armpit. You placed your hand over your eyes still afraid of what you’ll find in close proximity. You inch your hand slowly until one of your eyes is exposed, you pan up to see if you could find your boyfriend's face and you do, except his face isn’t in a scowl, or frozen in fear. No, on his face is a shit eating grin that reaches up to both of his decorated ears. As soon as he notices your eyes on him he lets out his iconic witch cackle.

“You’re the devil incarnate, you really do get off to my misery.” You plopped back into his chest before any other spooks came out from their hiding spots.

Jungkook slid his hands down your tense back stopping right at the spot where your legs met your butt. You didn’t even acknowledge this shift in position until you heard him ask you to jump. You did and he pulled your body up onto his.

Your legs hooked around his lower abs as his hands slotted themselves to rest on your ample bottom. Finally he set off into the maze trying his hardest not to drop you as ghosts and demons jumped out at him. He held you the rest of the way until the end of the maze where he could feel your heart being rapidly on his chest and he began to feel bad at what he put your through.

“Is it over?” you whispered into his shoulder. He nodded, which made you comfortable enough to look up at his handsome face.

“You’re a big ol’ baby y/n.” He giggled into your hair. His hands smoothed up and down your back, hoping to calm your racing heartbeat.

“I was in fear of my life, okay!” you expressed as your hands wrapped around his muscular neck.

“Im sorry baby.” He sent you his best puppy dog eyes and placed little kisses all over your sweaty face. You looked up at his big eyes and smoothed your lips over his. It felt like you could finally breathe. Your heart kept its quick pace, but instead of fear, happiness traversed through your heart.

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phantom-curve · 4 years ago

Note

49 or 50 for willex, and au of your choosing!

“Also happy second birthday!! Hope you have a wonderful day”

Thank you! This was an absolute joy to write so I hope you like reading it as much as I liked writing it! From the gimme a chance AU (which I guess now officially has spin-off lore about Willex) I give you Alex and Willie’s first date.

#49: holding onto the other’s shoulders for support & #50: putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up

When Willie had asked Alex if he wanted to go on a date to the art museum, Alex couldn’t help but picture something cute and romantic. The two of them wandering around bright, airy rooms with the sunshine streaming in, bathing them in an ethereal kind of glow. Long moments standing in front of different paintings, fingertips brushing as they exchanged meaningful side long glances with one another. Maybe they would even kiss. Alex had been nearly breathless with the thought. Which was why he said yes without hesitation.

Willie looked like an absolute dream when Alex first caught sight of him outside of the museum, his long hair fluttering in the breeze behind him under his helmet, the loose, slightly cropped t-shirt he wore rising up every now and then to reveal tantalizing glimpses at tanned skin and toned abs. He came to a graceful stop on his skateboard right in front of Alex, grinning from ear to ear as he raised his eyebrows up and down teasingly.

“Didn’t run ya over this time. This date is already going better than our first meeting.”

Alex couldn’t stop the slightly high-pitched embarrassed laugh that slipped through his lips. Willie’s cheeks stretched impossibly wider, and Alex felt his own cheeks warm.

“I didn’t really mind so much.”

Willie smirked like he thought Alex was lying, which, fair. Alex had been pissed when Willie had crashed into him, ready to absolutely lose it on whatever dumbass had knocked him down and then had the audacity to complain about his stupid fucking skateboard. But then Willie had been scrambling to apologize, his brown hair tumbling down from his helmet in a mesmerizing cascade, and Alex had forgotten about his injuries completely because he was entirely focused on remembering how to breathe and getting his brain to restart. And then Willie had asked him out and it became the best day of Alex’s life. So, in the end, he didn’t really mind.

“C’mon, I got us tickets already.”

Willie tucked his skateboard under one arm and held his other hand out like he was offering it to Alex. Which, he was, Alex realized after a long second. He felt the blush paint his cheeks again and rushed to pull his hand from his pocket so he could place it in Willie’s. Willie didn’t say anything, but Alex caught the way his lips curved a bit on the edges, like he was holding back a smile.

Willie, it turned out, had an extensive understanding of almost everything art related. He named off artists without having to read the little cards by their work and talked about different periods of art styles and the evolution of art as it related to history, explaining how the two were inextricably linked which wasn’t something Alex had ever really thought about before, but was fascinating, nonetheless. Alex let himself be led around, impressed and in complete awe as Willie pointed out his favorite pieces and waxed poetic about Jean-Michel Basquiat, who Alex had learned was his favorite artist. It was everything Alex had hoped for in a date, especially when Willie led him down a set of stairs and into a basement gallery that was practically deserted.

There were large abstract sculptures throughout the room, concrete benches spaced out along the wall. Willie walked over to one and sprawled out, Alex sitting down next to him in a bit more conservative manner.

“Man, I wish they had let me bring my board in. How dope would it be to skate through this place?”

He traced his fingers through the air like he was mentally mapping out exactly how he would maneuver around all the obstacles. Alex laughed.

“I’d be way too worried about running into a priceless piece of art and ruining it.”

Alex shuddered as he thought about how awful it would be to destroy someone’s artistic creation. He still remembered how heartbroken Luke had been their senior year of high school when their former bandmate Bobby had stolen his songs and sold them to a record label on a solo contract. The pain had been unbearable, and Alex hadn’t even been the one dealing with the brunt of the hurt. Something must have changed on his face because Willie leaned over to nudge him softly with his knee. Alex blinked, startled back into the present and looked into the warmest pair of brown eyes he’d ever seen.

“You’re wound a little tight, huh? Where’d you go just then?”

Usually, Alex didn’t really open up to people. He’d learned from a young age that emotions were best kept in a bottle locked in a safe shoved into the farthest reaches of his brain. Alex and Reggie had unpacked some of that throughout the years, slowly gaining his trust and teaching him that it was okay to express himself. But Alex never really let other people in like his boys. Except, there was something about Willie, some innate goodness in him, that made Alex feel safe and calm and like maybe it was okay to let him in, too.

So, he did. He talked about Bobby, and then that spiraled into talking about the band and his homophobic parents and their silent rejection that stung all the more because it was like they weren’t even mad, they just decided that he suddenly no longer existed. Willie didn’t interrupt or judge. And when Alex had finally exhausted himself and felt a little less bogged down by it all, Willie reached over and placed his hand on Alex’s knee, skin to skin through the hole in his jeans.

“That sucks, man. I’m glad you’ve got a better family with your friends now. Luke and Reggie, right? So, you all moved down here from San Fran together?”

Alex had mentioned that when they first met. It shouldn’t be a big deal, the fact that Willie remembered and had clearly actually been listening to the things Alex had said then and now, but he was so used to not being heard that it felt monumental. His lips curved into a small smile.

“Yeah. They’re my best friends. Luke swears someday our band will take off now that we’re in LA, but I’m just happy I get to be here with them, living in a house that doesn’t feel so unwelcoming all the time and whaling on some drums whenever I need to.”

“I’m happy you’re here, too.”

The way he said it, with a little smirk and some bouncy eyebrows, Alex knew Willie meant more than just being in LA. He meant here in this museum, with him. Suddenly, Willie jumped to his feet, holding both hands out towards Alex.

“I think I know something else that might help you loosen up. Wanna give it a try?”

Alex was pretty sure he was willing to give anything a try if Willie asked him to. He slipped his hands into Willie’s and only stumbled slightly when he was pulled to his feet. Willie let go so he could catch Alex by his shoulders, their faces so close Alex could count every one of his eyelashes. Time seemed to stand still for a moment, something crackling in the space between them. And then, Willie threw his head back and yelled.

Alex jumped about 10 feet in the air and immediately slapped a hand over Willie’s mouth, muffling the sound of the other boy’s voice. He whipped his head back and forth, thankful that there wasn’t another museum patron around or worse, a security guard.

“What the hell was that for?!” He whisper-yelled, feeling the need to compensate for Willie’s vocal volume by lowering his own.

Willie laughed, his lips moving under Alex’s palm. Alex let his hand drop, not wanting to think too long about Willie’s lips touching his skin.

“It’s stress release!”

Alex raised a judgmental brow.

“Yelling in a museum is stress release?”

“Yeah, man,” Willie was still laughing, his smile easy and eyes sparkling. “There’s something about letting everything out all at once, especially in a place where it feels like you shouldn’t. C’mon, you said you would give it a try.”

Alex glanced around the gallery again. They were alone, and he had said he would try it. He took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. Willie grinned and nodded encouragingly, so Alex inhaled again and tried to copy him.

“Ahhhhh!”

It was pretty pitiful in comparison. Willie doubled over with laughter for a moment, but when he straightened his smile was patient and kind.

“Nah, dude. You gotta mean it. Here, we can do it together.”

He stepped close, the tips of his shoes touching Alex’s, hands fisting into the shoulders of Alex’s favorite pink hoodie. He looked down at where Alex’s arms were dangling limply at his side and cocked his head, so Alex grabbed onto Willie’s shoulders as well. He felt Willie lean against him, letting Alex support some of his weight, and did the same. It weirdly felt almost like a hug, the way they were each clinging onto each other, trusting the other one to hold them up. Alex copied Willie when he sucked in a deep breath, but this time, instead of lifting his head towards the ceiling, Willie maintained eye contact. That same tension from earlier pulled taught between them. The moment built until all the sudden Alex felt a huge rush of emotion and opened his mouth at the exact same time as Willie, their voices overlapping and blending together in one loud, messy shout.

The resulting rush was incredible. Alex understood immediately what Willie had meant. He let out a laugh, absolutely delighted, and yelled again. Willie yelled back, and Alex felt like his head was spinning, drunk on adrenaline and release and Willie himself. He opened his mouth to yell again when he heard footsteps on the stairs. Willie glanced over his shoulder towards the doorway they had come through and then he grabbed Alex’s hand without hesitation, giggling as he pulled him through the room and out a second doorway at the back of the space before they could get caught. They raced up a different set of stairs, only slowing to a walk as they reentered the main level gallery space. Alex was breathless and giddy, the feeling of Willie’s hand in his making him feel brave and reckless. When they finally came to a stop in a hallway between the main gallery and a doorway to the outdoor sculpture park, he used their joined hands to pull Willie close.

“You are insane, and I cannot believe I let you talk me into that.”

His words were too soft to be a real admonishment. Willie leaned in, his hips brushing against Alex’s and the feeling was overwhelming. Without letting himself think about it, Alex reached up to move a few errant strands of hair out of Willie’s face, letting one hand rest against his jaw and bringing the other around his neck so he could tilt his face up. Willie’s eyes were shining, gaze dropping to Alex’s lips as the tip of his tongue peeked out to wet his own. It was all the invitation Alex needed.

He swooped down, Willie stretching on his toes to meet him halfway, arms sliding around his waist and pulling their bodies close. Alex’s mind went blissfully blank, focusing on nothing but the taste of cherry Chapstick on his tongue and the feeling of silky hair slipping through his fingers. Willie made a little noise in the back of his throat and Alex pulled back slightly, feeling shy and nervous. Their foreheads were still touching, breaths comingling in the tiny space between them. Willie leaned in to press a soft kiss against Alex’s cheek, leaving a burning mark behind as he moved so his lips grazed Alex’s ear.

“Totally worth it.”

He pulled away with a satisfied grin, dropping his heels as Alex felt himself blush from head to toe. Willie laced their fingers together and started to retrace their steps back towards the front of the museum, pulling a dazed Alex along in his wake.

“Wanna go grab some food? There’s a pretty good hotdog stand around the corner we could hit up.”

That broke Alex out of his spell.

“Ugh, no. Literally anything but hotdogs, please.”

He shivered, his stomach clenching like it still remembered the time Luke had convinced them they could totally trust the dude selling food out of the trunk of his car at next to a venue they were playing at. Willie laughed and quirked a brow.

“Sounds like you’ve got a story to tell, Hotdog. Let’s go.”

And Alex went, groaning the whole time about his new nickname but secretly loving the fact that Willie had given him one. Nicknames said familiarity, affection. Maybe by the end of their next date he could earn a different title: boyfriend.

#mads writes #gimme a chance #jatp #julie and the phantoms #send me prompts for my birthday!#willex #willex week #jatp ficlet #willex ficlet

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damn-stark · 4 years ago

Text

My Pilot boyfriend~ Poe Dameron imagine

Poe Dameron x Skywalker!reader

Requested by @rachelcarroll1819 19 “Hi can you do a imagine where the reader is the daughter of Luke skywalker and she's in a relationship with poe (her bff are poe and rey of course ans she does have the force) please and thank you”

Warning- slight angst, swearing, FLUFF.

———-

It felt refreshing being back in a place you knew, somewhere green, with real air and real trees, not in a place where it was infested by the planet's own pollution or run over by the galaxy's most artificial, spiteful, irritating and trashy people.

It just felt good being home. Or temporal home.

“Hey, skywalker!” Finn greeted.

You grinned and wrapped him in a tight embrace. “Hey, traitor. Long time no see.”

“I could say the same.” Finn pulled away with a smirk. “Where have you been?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, your eyes looking for the only person that was strangely missing from the scene. “Oh you know Jedi business.”

Finn chuckled, “sounds like avoiding the war to me.”

“Pssh,” You shook your head but contained your grin, “I’m sorry I’m not the war hero my father was.”

“Don’t we all wish you were.” He joked.

You place your hands on your hips and shrug, your eyes wandering the area for your favorite pilot. “Where’s Poe?”

Finn frowned, “somewhere down there.”

“Oh.” Your gaze immediately lands on Finn and your face falls at his statement. Did he really not want to come greet you? He always did, regardless of what he was doing at that moment. “I-I thought he would be here. He always is.”

Finn's shoulders dropped and a smile crept onto his lips, “I’m joking, again. You know you’ve got that man hooked.” Finn wrapped his arm around your shoulders and guided you out of your hanger, “he’s off base, last minute mission. He should return soon.”

You playfully push him away and laugh, “you’re an ass.”

——

“What happened there?” Rey points to the new metal hand that replaced the flesh, one that was now nothing but a memory.

“Oh, this.” You lift your metal hand and wave your fingers, examining it like if it were the first time you’ve truly seen it. “Someone lowlife scum caught me by surprise and jumped me.”

Finn quirks his eyebrow and parts his lips to add some snarky remark.

“Don’t.” You cut him off, “Poe is going to give me shit about it later, I’d rather only be scolded once. Thank you very much.”

Finn raises his hands, feigning innocence, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Well I think it suits you.” Rey smiles.

“You’ll be the only one to ever think that.” You glance at the time on the wall and sigh, it’s been eight hours since you’ve arrived and eight hours since Poe’s still been gone. It was past midnight with no communication, or the smallest sign that he's alright. It was beginning to worry you.

Actually lies.

It worried you the first hour after you had gotten back to base. Of course you had the force to assure you that he was still actually alive but that was all, it didn’t give you the slightest hint if he was in a cell or in trouble. For all you know he could be injured.

Let’s hope not though.

“Rey, can you try again, please.”

Rey looks away from her Jedi texts and glances at the communications screen beside her, no hesitation to do what you’ve all been trying for hours. “Black Leader, come in Black Leader, its ground base trying to get a status on your whereabouts.” Rey lets go of the button on the side of the headset and waits for another dreadful, anxious minute. Her eyes shifting to see you lean in closer to the screen, your bottom lip in between your teeth, until….

Nothing.

Again.

A sigh leaves your lips and you fall back on your chair, your face and shoulders dropping at the disappointing result, yet again.

Finn finally having enough of you moping stands up from his chair and pulls you up from your own.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

“We’re going to build a nice fire, get a few drinks in us and wait for Poe with high hopes.” Finn explained as he pulled Rey up from her chair too.

You groan, “what if Poe finally reports in, huh? What if he’s injured and I’m getting drunk? I have to wait.”

Finn shakes his head, “Poe is the best pilot I know. He’s the best pilot in the galaxy, he’s fine.”

Rey scoffs, “yet he still crashes.”

“Don’t let him hear that.” You interject with a quick smile.

“Come on, no more long faces.”

Again you deny his attempts, “sorry I’ll wait.”

Finn sighs and drops your hand, letting a minute of silence pass before he adds something, “fine, don’t come, but I don’t want you waiting here, go to your room. Take a nap, take a nice warm shower or just simply relax.”

“Finn.”

He lifts his finger to stop you, “I’m not done. You haven’t relaxed since you’ve gotten here, go. If I hear anything, you’ll be the first person I tell.”

Your eyebrows furrow and you stare at him with a narrowed look, completely unsure of his suggestion and getting ready to decline and just fall back into your chair before he began to push you towards the hall that led to your quarters.

“Hey!”

“Nope, I’m not taking a no, for an answer.”

You look back to Rey for help, but all she does is shrug.

Wow.

So much for an apprentice.

Once Finn and you reach the front of your door, he presses the button and the door slides open, not a second passing by before he literally almost throws you inside.

“I’ll come get you later, okay?”

Before you can give your response, he lets the door close and he just leaves, the sound of his footsteps retreating, getting quieter and quieter until you know he’s out of the hall.

Wow these rooms are literally paper thin. Why have you now realized that?

Sorry to the people next door.

Shrugging that aside for the time being, you switch on the lights, your nose instantly getting welcomed by the familiar natural scent of Poe; nothing but the sweet smell of woods, slight hint of x-wing fuel and the strong yet perfect scented cologne he loved to wear.

All of it just making you miss him that much more.

The picture of him and you placed on the end table is definitely no solace to your feelings.

The deeper you get into your room, the more you have the urge to just sit in bed and wait for him. But you also knew Finn was right to at least try and relax. That and well a nice shower would pass by time.

——

It didn’t work.

Time was a taunting bitch when it was needed to pass by quickly.

You hoped that in the middle of your super long shower, Poe would go in and join, but here you were, hair wet, dry body and with his baggy shirt on, just waiting with no such luck. That only made your stomach churn more. Was he really okay?

What if he got taken hostage?

Or got badly injured?

No. You needed to go look for—

Everything suddenly went dark, your whole body jumping at the feeling of someone’s chest pressed on your back and hands covering your eyes. “Guess, who?”

You grab onto your chest and let out a relieved deep breath. Not only because you knew who it was the moment he spoke, but because it wasn’t some drunk fighter that had stumbled into your room by accident.

Because that has happened. Once. It was terrifying.

“Oh, I don’t know.” You play along, taking in a long sniff, “smells like sweat and ship fuel, maybe my pilot boyfriend from Naboo?” You smirk and feel his hands leave your eyes, a scoff leaving his lips after your joke.

“You’re funny.”

You spin around and see the familiar, big browned eyed, perfectly tan faced, cleaned shaved, cocky man you had been waiting for all kriffing day. A twisted look on his features and a new cut on his cheek—That was not going to be left unspoken—For now though, for now all you did was grin and throw your arms around him.

“Oh, you’re happy to see me? I thought you were happy to see your Naboo boyfriend.” He remarked.

You pull your head away from his shoulder and shoot him a narrowed look, “it was a joke.” The smile returns regardless and you press a sweet short kiss on his lips, “I only love you.”

Poe stays quiet for a moment before his own relief to your well being breaks through and he pulls you in for a tight hug, his hands balling the material of your shirt as he rests his head in the crook of your neck, a gentle kiss later felt on your shoulder.

“I’ve been waiting to see you all day.” He muttered into your skin.

You smile and run your fingers through his dark curls, “I was worried. I almost went out to look for you myself.”

The gesture of Poe’s smile was felt widening on your skin, the feeling of his lips pressed on your skin sending shivers down your spine.

When he pulled away, that’s all you saw: a smile and a softened look, his eyes studying your face to check for any wounds and simply just taking in every soft feature like if it were the first time he’s seen you. He caressed your cheek and pulled you in for a long awaited kiss, one that was deep and passionate, his excitement felt in more ways than one.

And the only reason why he pulled away was so he let you leave a trail of kisses from the corner of his lips to the sweet spot on his neck.

“I thought you said I smelt like sweat.” He reminded you.

You smirked, “You do, but for you I make exceptions.”

Poe pressed you tighter to him, his hand reaching for yours to press a kiss on it, but stopping once he noticed what was wrong.

“What’s this little number?”

You pull away and watch as he examines your metal hand. “Someone was fighting dirty. Got a jump on me and cut my hand thinking that I couldn’t wield my saber with both. Her mistake.”

Poe frowned, his eyes filled with worry, “baby, you need to be more careful. You—”

“Poe,” you interrupt, “I’m okay. Okay? We can talk about it after I've had at least twenty four hours with you.” You smile and carefully wipe the curls that had been stuck to his forehead because of the sweat gleaming on his skin. “Long day?”

He rests your forehead on yours and sighs, “yeah. You don’t mind if we just sleep tonight, do you?”

“Only if I get to cuddle with you.”

He chuckles and presses a kiss on your nose, “You got it.”

The sudden knock on your door pulls you both away, both of you sharing a look until you rush to the door to see Finn, a huge grin on his face and drinks in his hands. “Fires started and drinks are here. Let’s go.”

You look over your shoulder to see Poe with an exhausted look clearly decorating his features, looking like he was going to pass out any second now.

“Uhh, next time.” You smile.

“What? Come on.”

You shake your head and show him a smug smile, “You wanted me in my room, I’m staying. Next time, promise.” Before he can come up with another excuse, you slowly close the door and leave him out there, turning back to Poe with a sweet smile.

“You can go if you want.” He adds. “I’ll stay and get some sleep before we have to get up again.”

“Nah,” you shrug, “I’d rather sleep in with my ONLY pilot boyfriend.”

Poe grins, “cute.”

#poe dameron #poe dameron imagines #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x reader #poe #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x skywalker!reader #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #Poe Dameron request #Poe Dameron fluff #finn star wars #rey #Poe imagines #poe imagine

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djarinvibe · 4 years ago

Text

Shooting Stars (Din Djarin x F!Reader) Pt. 2

A/N: I apologize this is took so long to get out. Life is mad against me right now and I’m just trying to stay afloat- anyways heres wonderwall...

Warnings: MODERN!AU, mentions of child abuse but not detailed

Words: 3.1K

Summary: Din comes over to help with a project, bringing along someone you didn’t expect.

Master List

October

“I’m sure you're aware as to why I called you into my office…?” Dean Karga’s voice echoed throughout his boring, run-of-the-mill office. You furrowed your brows and shook your head, watching the man in confusion. He sat leaned back in his chair, feet propped up on his desk, mindlessly twirling a pen between his fingers and looking up at you expectantly.

“I am not,” You answered with a chuckle, sitting in one of his guest chairs. The man had summoned you without warning; you had just dismissed your last class of the day when the announcement happened.

“The Halloween Formal…?” The man trailed off in question again. His expression was excited, as he shrugged out his arms with glee, however you still couldn't get a read as to whatever the hell he was getting on about. The Halloween Formal is a dance the school puts on every year; usually organized by a sorority of students and the secretaries working together.

“What about it?” You shook your head in confusion, studying the man's face for any answers. He took his feet off the desk, leaning towards you in his chair with a growing smile.

“I want you to put together the Formal this year.” Karga grinned, arms stretched out in exclamation. You grimaced at the offer, quickly shaking your head.

“Me? What happened to the sorority girls and the secretaries?” You questioned, “Like, a whole team of people?”

“Right,” The Dean sighed, dropping his arms to his lap, “The sorority decided they didn't want to do it this year, and the secretaries agreed... However, Omera suggested you.”

“Or, maybe you could hire an outside source?” You suggested, prompting the man to give you a pursed-lip glare. Also, why would Omera call you out like that? You’ll have to speak to her later.

“It’s not in the budget.” He coyly responded, triggering your eyes to roll. “Look, I’ll give you an extra week of vacation as compensation? I just need someone to plan this damned thing.”

You paused before speaking, casting your arms up in defeat, “Alright, fine. Can I at least recruit some people to help?”

“Yes- But don't tell them about the vacation days…” The Dean quickly spoke, giving you a look. You sighed with a nod, prompting the man to chuckle with glee and clap his hands together; probably ecstatic he didn't have to plan the Formal himself.

The afternoon sun blared into the windows, casting a golden glow across your emptied classroom. A groan passed through your lips as your eyes scanned the list of essential items for the Formal. Your feet anxiously tapped the ground below your desk as you chewed your cheek.

It’s been one week since the Dean gave you the task of planning the Halloween Formal, and honestly, you've got nothing done; your helper hasn't exactly been much help. Omera, who you recruited out of spite, hasn't done her tasks yet leaving you a week behind from where you should be. You would ask Din for help, but it’s his first year here and you honestly don't want to scare him off with such a tedious job.

Ever since his personal introduction in your classroom just a month a few weeks ago, your friendship has blossomed. Never have you gotten along with a new teacher so fast, but you love it. However, you've noticed that he isn't as social with the other teachers. He mostly tends to just hang by himself unless people engage him. It makes you curious as to why he was so eager to introduce himself to you.

A quiet, repeated knock echoed throughout the room, startling you. Chuckling to dismiss your scare, you called for whomever to enter the space.

“Hey,” Din’s low, gravely voice caught your attention, and you looked up to greet the man. He had just closed the door behind him, beginning to pad over to your desk.

“Hi,” You smiled at the man, biting your lip shortly after. He donned his signature gray suit, with dark brown shoes to match. His hair was loose and curly, splaying across his forehead and curling around his ears. You noted his stubble had grown in a bit, appearing more dark against his tan skin.

The two of you haven’t spoken in person for a couple days, as he had gone out of town. He never told you why, and you didn't want to pry either; Though you were very curious. You know that he has an adopted three year old son, and couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with him.

Din mentioned his son to you a few weeks back. The two of you had somehow managed to find yourselves alone in the teachers lounge. You told him your life story, while he remained relatively quiet; but you managed to find out some things about him.

“How have you been?” He questioned, mindlessly grabbing a spare chair from a stack in the corner of the room, which you keep for meetings, and placed it down in front of your desk.

“The usual,” You chuckled lightly, shrugging afterwards. “How were your days off?” You added, leaning forward and resting your elbows on your desk.

“Oh, I just took my son out of town for a couple days.” Din shrugged off your intrigue, clearly not interested in sharing more details.

“I'm jealous, getting out of town sounds like a dream right now.” You sensed the man's hesitation for detail, and began to shift the topic to the Halloween Formal. Grabbing the paper from earlier, you groaned looking at the list.

“The Dean told me about that,” Din chuckled, reaching down and grabbing the to-do list from your grasp. His eyes scanned the paper before he shook his head, handing it back.

“It’s in less than three weeks and I’ve got nothing done.” You groaned, resting your head into your hands. “And my helper, Omera, has been… well, unhelpful.”

You could hear the man across from you release a humor filled snort before he spoke, “I’ll help you.”

Your head raised at his statement, looking at him with hope. “You will?”

“Yeah, you seem like you could use it.” He smirked in return, watching as your whole demeanor changed.

“You have no idea how much that means to me,” A sincere grin crossed your cheeks at the statement.

Streaming sunlight illuminated the small living room of your house as you sat on the couch, fingers flipping through papers for the Formal. The TV hung above the fireplace quietly played some show to fill the silence, one you haven’t bothered to pay attention to. The repeating ‘Tik’ of the clock felt like it was pounding at the same beat as your heart.

An anxious sigh passed your lips as you jotted down a note to call some company about DJ-ing the Formal. You are honestly just trying to distract yourself from the nerves in your belly. Friday afternoon, before you left work, Din had suggested he come over to help with planning the Formal on Saturday, which you accepted. You know you should invite Omera over too, as she is the one who got you into this, but you really just want to spend time alone with Din; outside of school.

In all truth, the two of you haven't been alone together save for that rare moment in the teachers lounge, and the small talk you exchange in your classrooms. But you want to get to know him better. The man is mysterious, and rarely speaks unless spoken to. You notice that he hardly interacts with your colleagues, mostly just you or the Dean. It drives your curiosity, how secluded the new teacher is.

A knock at your front door caught your attention, making your stomach drop. Swallowing, you set the papers onto the coffee table and stood up, padding over to the entryway. Pulling open the heavy slab of wood, Din’s handsome face came into view as he stood on your porch. However what you weren't expecting was his three year old son to be in his grasp. The child was asleep, his small face tucked into Din’s neck.

“Hi,” You whispered breathlessly, stepping aside to let him in. He gave you a half grin and a nod as he tread inside, setting his satchel onto the couch.

“Sorry to bring him, my sitter dropped.” Din’s voice softened when he spoke about his son, “Is there somewhere he can sleep?”

“Oh, of course, there's a guest bedroom down the hall and to the left.” You whispered, pointing to the area. Your colleague thanked you silently before disappearing into the bedroom.

You took the moment to compose yourself, puttering around the living room. You spent the entire morning cleaning, but still couldn’t help yourself from straightening a few items while waiting for his return. When his footsteps finally echoed back down the hall, you settled.

“Sorry, again.” He apologized quietly, grabbing his satchel from it’s spot on the couch and sitting down.

“Please, don’t apologize, he’s allowed to be here,” You chuckled, dismissing his apology with a wave of your hand. The man thanked you with a soft nod, opening up the bag in his lap and pulling out a small binder.

Din quickly jumped into work mode, focusing on the project at hand. The conversation died, both of you choosing to stay in silence as you worked on planning. Though you felt more inclined to remain silent due to his silence. The butterflies still haven't left your stomach, every time he would shuffle or clear his throat, they regained activity.

It felt silly to be so flustered over a man you’ve barely met and is also a colleague. There have been moments where your breath has literally caught in your throat at his sight. Someone even caught you doing it last week. You were walking by his classroom during your free period and couldn’t stop yourself from halting in front of his door and watching him teach through the small door window. It wasn’t until a student noticed you watching did you scurry along, heat radiating from your cheeks.

Omera was aware of your crush, having spoken to you about him multiple times since the morning he started. Whenever she sees the man around school, she finds the time to gossip about it later.

It’s endearing that she’s invested, but sometimes you avoided her around campus for that very reason. You love the woman, but recently she’s been driving you crazy. Hence, why you didn't invite her over; besides your want to spend an afternoon alone with Din.

“Did you call the DJ yet?” Din’s low voice caused you to jump slightly, interrupting the silence that shrouded your living room. The two of you had remained quiet for about half an hour now, merely making small talk about the Formal here and there.

It’s frustrating however; you want to get to know more about him, like, for example, where did he move from? And what did he do before teaching? Also, you had questions about his son, like his name, and if there is a mother figure in the picture? Yet, you can't seem to get the questions to form.

“No, not yet.” You answered with a slight chuckle, dismissing the scare. You could feel his eyes studying the side of your face, only making the heat return to your cheeks.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” You then asked, setting aside the papers in your hand and standing up from the couch. Din shook his head, and you gave him a curt nod before stepping into the kitchen, out of his eyesight. Taking a deep breath to release the tension in your shoulders, you grabbed a glass from the cupboard before filling it with water. However, just as you were about to take a sip, you felt a slight tug on the bottom of your pants. Looking down, you met the sight of Din’s son.

He is adorable, to say the least. He wore a little green, knitted beanie with bunny-like ears sticking out side to side, and was dressed in a tan jacket that was long enough to cover his body down to his feet. He looked up at you with dark brown eyes filled with tears, his bottom lip trembled as he was on the verge of crying.

Without a second thought, you set down the glass of water and picked the boy up into your grasp. He immediately tucked his face into your neck, little sniffles sounding from his throat. Rubbing his back, you made your way back to the living room.

“Uh, Din?” You questioned, causing the man to turn around. His eyes widened for a second when he realized his son was in your arms, before jumping up and making his way over.

“What’re you doing up?” Din questioned, peeling the boy from your chest and settling him in his arms. The small child only sniffled instead of answering, pulling at your heart. The man didn't say a word, only holding his son tighter while tucking his head against his chest. He mouthed a silent ‘Sorry’ before turning on his heel and sitting on the couch.

Following timidly, you bit your lip unsure what to do. Truth be told, you don't have much experience with young kids. Young teens and up? No problem. Elementary age and down? Well… you teach college for a reason. Growing up, you didn't have any cousins who were around. Your family lived across the country from your aunts and uncles; and to make it worse, you are an only child. Needless to say, you're not much help in the babysitting department.

“Um, is there anything I can do?” You questioned, watching the man stroke his child's back soothingly. A pang formed in your belly as you thought about him doing that same thing with you, but instead cuddled in bed talking about your day.

“No. Thank you, though.” Din murmured, his dark eyes greeting your own for a moment. You nodded, joining him once again on the couch. Focusing back on your work, you figured that was easier than fawning over the man soothing his child. Even though you struggle with children, it’s hard to not be attracted to a man taking care of one.

A quiet hum sounded from the man adjacent you, filling the silence of the room. Swallowing dryly, you tried your best to look at the paper in your hand, however his voice was too distracting. It sounded like a melody, one a parent would sing to soothe their distraught child. His low alto added warmth to the tune, and your chest.

“I’m going to get a drink.” You quickly cleared your throat, standing up from the couch. You heard the man mumble something, but didn’t quiet catch what it was as you made your way to the separate space. Approaching the cupboard, you grabbed a glass before hastily filling it with water and taking a sip.

Taking a deep breath, your eyes turned to look at the back of Din’s head. Butterflies stormed your stomach at the sight of his son’s head tucked into his neck; the boy’s green beanie acting as a pillow. The faint sound of his humming could still be heard from the kitchen, but it wasn’t as overwhelming from a distance.

You finish the full glass before returning to the living room, deciding it was best to let Din get his son back to sleep; and to slow your beating heart. You don’t realize how much time had passed, but you notice that Din has stopped humming, Instead replaced by little snores coming from the child snoozing in his lap.

“I’m sorry about the kid.” The man whispered once you sat down.

“I already told you it’s okay,” You cleared your throat, looking back towards him. He remained silent, his eyes cast down towards the child.

“I’m still new to all of this.” The man chuckled, but you could still read the uncertainty in his voice. He is a new father, which is scary by itself, but he’s doing it all alone.

“Can I ask… What made you decide to adopt?” You formed the question carefully, unsure of how to articulate without your curiosity sounding like a jackass.

The man was quiet for moment before he finally spoke, “It kind of just happened.” He began, “Before working at the university, I was a bounty hunter. I mostly brought in criminals who had debts, traveling around the country in an old RV. Then, I got an odd job. I was tasked with finding a child and returning him to the client…” Din trailed off afterwards, his hand protectively settling on his son’s back. “They were going to kill him... I couldn’t allow it.”

“Oh,” You murmured, studying the side of the mans face as he stared down at the boy. It’d harded over the course of the story, voiding all emotion, the happening clearly still weighing heavy on his heart.

“He’s gone mute from the torture they put him through.” Din added, his gaze greeting yours once again. A stale sheen of tears stained the bottom of his eyes, but he was quick to blink them away once you noticed. Your chest clenched at his words, sorrow filling your throat as you looked at the sleeping child. Three years old... and to have faced such horrors…

“I fled with the kid after that. We’ve hidden a few places, but we ended up here back in August.” Din paused, catching your attention once again. “Greef hired me as the Astronomy teacher, aware of my situation. He’s an old friend.” His eyes held a shimmer of hope, though it was dim. Him entrusting you with this information felt exhilarating, but to hear of such things existing in the world seemed unbelievable. And who would have to heart to harm a child? No matter, you felt the need to aid him and protect his son.

“Din, I-” You paused to swallow, his soft, brown eyes peering into your own, “You can trust me.” You finished, reaching across the couch and gently placing your hand on top of his own. The warmth of his hands mixed with the cool touch of your own felt electric, sending your heart into a frenzy. The man didn’t respond, instead he adjusted your hands so your fingers intertwined.

“Thank you.” His voice was low, filled with sincere emotion. You didn’t dare look up into his eyes, afraid of sending your heart into overload, but you felt them peering at the side of your face. God, what have you gotten yourself into?

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TAGLIST: @snow30285 @mack4676 @remmysbounty Thank you for reading!! <3 <3 <3

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfiction

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princessjungeun · 4 years ago

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Fallen Angel: Olivia Hye x Reader

TW// violence, blood

I had a dream like this and also, A LONG time ago i read a demon jinsoul au but idk who wrote it or where it is on here. If you’re the writer pls message me so i can give you credit for inspiring me.

Life for you here in Paradise was beyond perfect. You sat at the highest rank of all young angels. A status that many dreamed of but never reached. You weren’t like most seraphs, most of them were extremely rude. They liked using their status against other angels, knowing they would get treated differently if they played their cards right.

However you weren’t like this, many other angels, seraphs, and archangels knew. You were friendly, warm, and extremely nice. Many believed that’s why you’re so beautiful.

Your brown skin was kissed by the sun and shone like pearls in the light. The long black tendrils that crowned your head flowed down your back, dancing in the breeze. Your chocolate brown eyes, sweet and luminous while the sharp almond shape captures everyone’s attention. It was no secret that you were seen as the most beautiful angel in paradise.

Everyone agreed on that statement except for you.

The one you found most beautiful hid in the depths of Paradise. She cowered on the borders of Paradise and the Underworld, never showing her face intentionally.

Her tanned skin was once a bright ivory color, presumably from the lack of light she received day to day. Her deep raven colored hair made her look even more pale. The deep pink tint of her triangle shaped lips remained the most defining feature upon her face. However, the one thing that many noticed first, were the broad, onyx colored wings flecked with silver that rested on her back. One of which was tattered, missing a large portion from the bottom.

Everyone called her a demon but you, as a seraph knew that she was not. Demons can’t survive up in Paradise, and if they do, they are removed quite quickly.

Although it might seem foolish or extraneous, all angels in paradise must attend school. It’s not a normal school like what mortals do on Earth, there aren’t subjects. It’s simply a place where angels learn how to be better at what they do. Angels are divided into three divisions and instructed in said divisions.

Academy started two months ago and you never once saw the one you’d always kept an eye on. As much as you wanted to find her, as you knew where she resides, you never did.

Until one day you were called by the highest seraph. He requested that you find the missing angel and bring her to academy.

All of that to explain why you’re standing outside of a dusky and sullen cave. A small light shone in the very hind of the dim tunnel leading to the open end.

You hesitated, lowering your wings, not certain if you should have come alone. Nevertheless you proceeded, mumbling to yourself “Son Hyejoo you’re needed at the academy” in hopes it’d help you not blank upon seeing her.

As you rounded the corner you stopped completely, your body froze not able to move one step more. The feeling of terror flooded your body upon seeing her, facing backwards. Her wings were erect, much broader than yours, definitely more powerful. Candles were lit in a circle around her, illuminating the small space. The light bounced off of the walls of the cave, the small flecks of silver in her wings drew you closer without thinking.

“What do you want” she spoke, her voice monotonous and plain.

You asked “how did you know I was here?”

She responded “I could hear you 8 kilometers away, you’re not exactly good at whispering.” Taking her voice up an octave she spoke in a mocking tone “Son Hyejoo you’re needed at the academy...and if you ever refer to me as Hyejoo without my permission again, you won’t be returning to Paradise. You call me Olivia.”

You told her “O-ok... I was sent by the head Seraph. So. Olivia...you are needed at the academy, there is no exception for anyone.”

She rose from her seat prompting you to step away slowly. As she turned around you locked eyes with her, your heart plummeted when you saw them gleam a deep crimson.

This time as she spoke her voice deepened, “I do not attend the academy. Leave now and never return back, is that clear?” The only time you’ve ever heard this inflection was from the devil himself, no angel can forget it.

Your mouth went dry as you stood in fear, although she was no bigger than you, she clearly held more physical power than you.

Without thinking you turn your back and flew out the cave, faster than you’ve ever in your life.

•

Days passed and you’d been instructed to go back to Olivia’s cavern. You followed the directions given to you however everytime your arrived, she was never there. You convinced yourself she just found a new cave to reside in, but something felt off every time you went.

Until the last day you attempted to find her. The second you step foot into the dim cavern, her voice echoed down the channel.

“I thought I told you not to return here. Why are you back.” Her voice sounded weak and broken, unlike the time before.

You didn’t respond, only walking further in hoping that maybe she would actually come with you.

The Olivia you saw last time was definitely not the same one that you were looking at now. The long raven locks that once flowed down her back were now bluntly chopped just above her shoulders. Her skin was littered with scratches and bruises. The once broad wings that adorned her back were tattered on one while the other was completely gone.

“Hye-I mean Olivia! What happened are you alright?” You approached her reaching out to touch her.

Pressing her two hands down on the ground, she held her body up on her two arms. You looked closer and scanned the area of her back where her wing was severed from her back. It was clearly new, judging by the blood stains on her shirt.

“Ple-please leave...he’ll come back if you stay any longer. Y/N...go.” She wheezed out her words, the last two coming out in faint gasps.

You responded “what does that mean? I cant let you die here...let me help you okay, I’ll leave and never return after. Just let me help you. Please.”

Her arms shook beneath her, just as she collapsed you caught her in your arms. You told her “I have to tie something around it since it already stopped bleeding okay?” She nodded weakly as you pulled a blanket from the ground and wrapped it tightly around her back, right where her wing used to be. A whimper left her lips, you could tell she wanted to scream but she was far too weak to do so.

You tended to the rest of the scratches and scrapes that dotted her skin. She had dozed in and out of sleep as you did so, but now she was wide awake. Her head rested on your lap, your hand carding through her hair gently.

“Who was it?” You asked gently hoping not to overstep.

She responded “my father...we um-hes not the easiest to talk to.”

You asked “what happened....”

She told you “he saw me talk to you. He got upset that I didn’t um- handle... you differently.”

You replied “I don’t usually say this but does he know i’m a seraph?”

A small laugh left her lips and she whispered “the devil doesn’t care about your status.”

You froze and stuttered out “wha-what?”

She told you plainly “my dad is a demon. I’m half angel, half demon. My mom was young and stupid...kinda rebellious. My dad knew and he liked that about her. But angels aren’t meant to be with demons...that’s why she’s gone.”

You lifted your hand from her soft locks and said “I’m sorry...I- I should go. I don’t want you to get hurt again.”

She reached up and grabbed your hand, bringing back to her head before telling you “he won’t...please just- don’t go yet.”

You smiled softly to yourself and said “okay but I do have to go back at sun up for academy...speaking of which you’re still being summoned.”

She replied “why don’t you just come after and teach me what I need to know? I cant be around other angels without my dad showing up...even right now is risky.”

You told her “I can ask but I should be able to do that...you need to rest. I’ll leave once you’re asleep okay?”

She nodded and scooted closer to you, reaching her hand up she grasped your free hand, holding it in hers.

•

For the next few months you found yourself with Olivia Hyejoo every single day. The two of you spent every minute together when you weren’t in academy. You’d learned a lot about Hyejoo, like that she has two sisters but they live in the underworld as they’re 100% demon. She had never had an emotional connection to someone like the way she did with you. Also that she hated her birthday, you never knew why, but she did.

You loved being around her and she loved being around you, even though she was terrified of hurting you. What she never told you was that for her, a Nephilim, she’s constantly battling internally to balance the good and evil. Sometimes she loses control, and other times she has a hold of herself.

Since meeting you she’d been working harder, feeling an imbalance constantly. She knew it was because she loved you deeply, something that is absolutely forbidden. Hyejoo knew that if she let her feelings get the best of her you’d both end up gone, so she tried her best to control her feelings.

But it was hard to control her feelings when you were so perfect. She loved when you laughed, it was like music to her ears. She absolutely adored when you held her in your arms at night to protect her when she felt a certain presence among the two of you.

Eventually, Hyejoo reached her breaking point, she knew if she saw you anymore she would end up acting on her feelings. So she decided it was time to let you go, especially because her birthday was in two days.

“Y/N?” She was laying on her stomach across your lap, your hand on her bare back, running over the scar where her wing once was.

“Hmm?” You hummed happily as your nails lightly trailed over her skin.

She sat up and said “you can’t come back tomorrow...or any day after.”

Her words felt like daggers in your chest, you never wanted to leave her, even for a minute and you knew she felt the same.

“What? Why?” Your voice cracked as you tried to suppress your sadness.

“I can’t be around you anymore.” She turned away from you, facing the wall.

“Why not?” You weren’t giving up until you got a full answer.

She told you “It’s to protect you, I don’t want to hurt you...”

You asked “protect me from what? Hyejoo don’t shut me out like this...please.”

Hyejoo’s one wing rose, the same way it did the first time you encountered her. Her voice deepened to the same demonic tone, “get out.”

Without hesitation you responded “no. Hyejoo I love you please-”

She cut you off “IF YOU LOVE ME THEN YOU’LL LISTEN TO ME! LEAVE AND NEVER COME BACK.”

The ground shook as she yelled, the walls of her cave trembling as she spoke.

You got up and walked out, looking back to see if she’d change her mind but she didn’t.

•

The truth was Hyejoo didn’t want to let you go, but she had to. When half demon half angels are born, they’re given a number 16-20. On that birthday is when they either turn into a full demon, or full angel. However, because Hyejoo’s mother didn’t survive her birth, there was no way for her to even be considered to be an angel. It was the parent’s choice for which they turn into. Unless an agreement is reached between the Nephilim and it’s parent.

Hyejoo went to see her father in an attempt to request that he doesn’t turn her into a full demon. He didn’t talk it lightly, hence the reason why you found her so injured that day. It was Hyejoo’s 19th birthday soon and the only way she could possibly not become a demon was her completely controlling her internal balance of good and evil, resulting in her internal balance being 100 to 0. No nephilim has done it before but it was worth trying. However, if she failed, the end result was becoming a full fallen angel.

•

The two days leading up to her birthday you listened to her. You didn’t go to find her even though you really wanted to. However on the day of her birthday you found yourself outside of her cave.

You didn’t wander inside but she knew you were outside. Part of her wanted to shoo you off but the other part missed you and felt comfort by you being present.

Hyejoo waited for the clock to strike midnight, for her birthday. She knew what was to come as she’s seen how her older sister’s dealt on their birthdays.

She pulled a pair of metal shackles that had been in the cave since her sister’s lived here with her. Hyejoo remembered the way she had to watch Byul and Mina chain themselves out of fear of hurting her.

The second the clock struck midnight she felt her father’s presence. Pain coursed through her veins as she felt her internal balance starting to become more and more uneven.

She fought with herself for hours, she’d been able to keep herself as steady as she could but there were still 20 hours left in the day. Thankfully these types of things happened in bursts. She was probably only going to deal with this 2 more times at most. She knew she was too weak to hold it off but she wouldn’t give in.

You could hear her heavy breaths and strangled whimpers from outside the cave. But when they subsided you relaxed, knowing that she was probably fine.

It was the last two hours of the day when you heard an ear piercing shriek ring through the cave. Not wasting a second you flew inside, definitely not prepared for what you were about to see.

Hyejoo’s eyes were completely black, her veins coursing what looked like black blood. Her one wing was starting to fall away, bent at the top indicating that she was losing this internal battle. One singular horn was already protruding from her head, the other already starting to form.

You froze in fear, now understanding why she didn’t want you here.

She turned and saw you, immediately grabbing you by the throat. You clawed at her hands, trying your best to choke out her name.

“H-Hyejoo...stop- please.” You whispered trying to release yourself from her grip.

Her one eye faded back to the deep crimson you loved and remembered, “Y/N?”

Immediately she let go, but the second she did her eye faded back to black. You knew that there was nothing much you could do to help her but watch and hope for the best.

You watched in terror for an hour as Hyejoo went through what was clearly excruciatingly painful. It was when she fell onto her back and started floating above the ground, tears falling from her eyes, and strangled screams leaving her mouth that you cracked.

Pulling her back down you pulled her into your arms, you remembered that as a seraph that there was a possibility of you helping her. She fell limp in your arms, too weak to try and fight it any longer.

Calling out her name you repeated “Hyejoo, please I love you” at least 400 times before you saw her eye fade back to red.

She weakly asked “Y/N? I love you too.”

You held her tighter and begged her “please please just push a little more...it’ll be fine okay? You can be an angel with me please.”

She shook her head and said “I-I cant Y/N...he’s too strong. This is it, I can’t do it any longer...I’m sorry.”

You held her closer and noticed her other eye faded as she came to.

Looking down at her she said “I put up a good fight...but I can’t fight anymore. I’m going to be with him tomorrow, you’ll never see me again.”

You replied “what if I will? I come with you.”

She knew what you meant: when an angel falls in love with a demon, the angel descends into the underworld as a Fallen Angel. The only thing sealing it, is a kiss.

Hyejoo’s eye started to fade black again, but she tried her best to stay with you.

“N-No you’re not doing that. You’re a seraph.”

You wiped a tear from her eye as the clock almost struck midnight indicating the end of the night. She had five minutes which you spend holding her in your arms. Looking into her eyes as she started to lose herself.

It was ten seconds left until you told her “I was a seraph, but now I’m a fallen angel.”

Capturing her lips between yours, you kissed her softly. Her hand laced with yours as both of your eyes faded black. You fell limp against her body indicating that you were no longer alive in Paradise.

She wrapped her arm around your body, feeling herself fade. A smile made its way to her face at the realization that she’d be with you again, just in another world.

As her eyes closed for the last time, she mumbled to herself:

I love you, my fallen angel.

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #loona scenarios #loona imagines #olivia hye #son hyejoo

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cornell-mercer · 4 years ago

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The Bond

Chapter 1 - The Girl

Explicit - 18+

Mandalorian smut - Mandalorian / original female character

Takes place between season 1 & 2

Chapter 1- The Girl

The Razor Crest glided into Bay 4-6 on the desert planet of Tatooine. With the child in tow, the Mandalorian needed to restock on food and medical supplies, and get some general repairs completed on the Crest. This was a routine layover for the clan of two.

“Well, here we are kid. Let’s get you something to eat”, said Mando looking back from his seat in the cockpit at his little green ward that he considered more like family, as opposed to a job that needed to be done. Although, he would never admit that to anyone; especially himself.

After giving the head ship mechanic detailed instructions on the necessary repairs needed on the Crest, and the supplies to be delivered to the ship, the unlikely pair ventured through the town. Mos Eisley was a dirty, depraved hole of a town that would eat you alive if you didn’t watch your back. Mando opted to carry his charge in a cross body brown sac to keep him mostly hidden from prying eyes. Although, not even the toughest of villains and scum of Mos Eisley would dare mess with a Mandalorian; in full beskar armour no less.

He noticed a small cantina off the main drag and ducked inside the sand coloured structure. Upon entering the cantina, everything went quiet and all species with different sets of eyes fell on Mando; mostly surmising how rich they would be if they were somehow able to part the Mandalorian with his beskar. After a few tense moments of Mando sizing up the patrons and various exit points, he hovered his right-hand over his blaster, sending a clear signal that he wouldn’t hesitate to take out anyone that was stupid enough to mess with him. The hustle and bustle of the cantina then returned as quickly as it had left, and everyone cast their eyes away from him. Mando walked forward and found a small round table in a corner and asked for a large bowl of soup to be brought for his little green companion.

Mando stayed vigilant in scanning the place, as boisterous laughter spread throughout the space from a table across the room. Four large brownish, pinky coloured creatures, that looked to be part Devaronian were making a ruckus about something when he heard a young girl scream, and her tray of drinks flew across the floor. Mando’s eyes behind his visor narrowed, as he saw the largest of the Devaronians pull the small, pretty, dark-haired girl onto his lap by her hair. She clawed at his arm that held her in place, uselessly. Mando stood up, picked up his pulse rifle and was about to take a step forward to intervene, when he saw her.

“Hey shithead! Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” yelled a woman in a menacing tone. She had just exited the kitchen area and was presumably also a waitress at the cantina. The woman had a strong, commanding voice, short blond hair and a slim, yet solid build. She was no shrinking violet, like the poor girl trapped on the lap of the lecherous creature. She was dressed in what would be considered typical Tatooine fashion; brown pants, tucked into black knee-high boots, and a tan coloured tunic. Her arms were exposed, and her skin was covered in a thin layer of dust, as is with anyone who has spent more than a day or two on this godforsaken planet. She also wore a utility belt, which housed several useful looking weapons and what may have been tools.

She grabbed what looked like an axe from her belt and stood in a fighting position. “Let her go, nerfherder!”

The Devaronian creature that held the girl on his lap, pushed the small figure to the floor and stood up, towering over the blond woman that had challenged him in front of his three companions. They all laughed nervously and drank their ale, not taking their eyes off the scene.

“You think you can fight me, girl? Do you even know who I am?” his voice boomed through the bar.

“I don’t really care who you are. I just can’t stand a guy who mistreats a girl”, she countered. “Now get out of here,” she gestured towards the door with her head, as she backed away from him slightly.

He roared in laughter and his goons followed suit, along with the rest of the patrons in the bar, too nervous to keep a straight face.

“I am Rab Toll. My father is a close personal friend of Bib Fortuna. My father runs this town.” Rab now taking long strides towards her, loomed over her in an intimidating stance.

“I don’t care who your father is. Maybe he should’ve taught you better manners.” She said boldly as she stared directly into his eyes, trying to hide her trepidation over what she had just gotten herself into.

The Mandalorian could sense this was going to get ugly fast and kept his hand on his blaster from across the room. The child slurped up the last of his soup, as Mando remained lazer-focused on the scene unfolding in front of all the bar patrons turned spectators.

Rab Toll then took a clumsy swing at her head. His reflexes slower than what would’ve been expected, but he had been drinking ale, so that may have been in her favour. She ducked easily out of the way and moved quickly to face him once again. He roared in anger and pulled out his blaster, taking aim at her head. Rab Toll was genuinely shocked when she expertly landed a jump scissor kick, knocking the blaster out of his hand.

Across the room, Mando froze in place and smirked to himself that this girl was no beginner fighter and clearly knew how to take care of herself.

Rab then dove across the floor scrambling towards his blaster, when the girl, with her free hand, grabbed his arm that was reaching towards the blaster and twisted it behind him. Rab roared in pain and reared his head when an unmistakable crunch could be heard. She put the blade of her axe to his neck and lowered herself close to his ear.

“Next time, use your manners.”

She then stood up, tossed Rab’s broken arm to the floor and walked off into the kitchens, as she re-holstered her axe.

Mando sat down and watched as the Devaronian crew helped their leader up and they stumbled out of the bar yelling profanities and something about coming back later.

“Well, that was unexpected,” Mando said in an intrigued tone, looking down at the green child beside him.

Mando settled up the tab and gathered the child into his sac. He knew it wouldn’t be long before the kid was fast asleep, as it usually went when he had a full belly. He began the walk through the town square back to the Razor Crest, when he saw something glint and catch his attention in the sunlight at one of the nearby vendor’s tables. He approached the vendor and was puzzled to find the object that had caught his attention was an exact match to one other he had seen many times before. He shook his head dismissively and carried on through the town. The quicker he and the kid could leave this wretched hive, the better.

When he was nearly back at the Crest, he heard squeals of delight and happiness from what sounded like children coming from a nearby alleyway. As he walked past, Mando looked down the alleyway and saw the blond girl with the short cropped hair. She was sitting crossed legged on the ground, surrounded by children. She had brought food for them, presumably leftovers from the cantina.

“All right, all right, there’s enough for everyone. Just relax.” She said as the children all tried to hug her at once. She looked uncomfortable from all the attention and praise, but he caught a glimpse of an angelic smile beginning to spread across her face.

Mando couldn’t look away and found himself taking several hesitant steps towards her. Who was she? He approached slowly, with his gloved palms up by his sides to show he was not a threat. The girl scrambled to a standing position, putting herself between Mando and the children, with her hand hovering over her axe.

“What do you want Mandalorian?” she said much more aggressively than was needed and levelled her eyes at his visor.

The children grabbed the food and ran hastily towards the small opening at the back of the alley, leaving her alone with the Mandalorian.

“I saw you back at the cantina. Just wanted to ask if you were okay.” He said gently.

“Well, I got fired…” she said raising her arms and dropping them to her sides, in a defeated gesture.

“Yeah. I guess that was probably coming.” Responded Mando in his deadpan gravelly voice.

“Now I’m never going to get off this godforsaken planet.” She said sadly.

After a long and uncomfortable pause, “Why not hire a ride on a cargo vessel?” asked Mando.

“I’m not leaving my ship.” She said, hoping that was enough of an explanation for him to leave her alone. When he tilted his helmet just so, she recognized it as a question.

“Ugh. If you really want to know, I got stuck here when my ship needed repairs and I didn’t have the credits to pay. The parts aren’t readily available because my ship is so old. I was just trying to earn the credits for the repairs, so I can leave. My aunt lives on this planet and is pretty good with fixing up old ships, so she’s holding her for me until I can afford the parts.”

She looked down, tracing a circle in the dust with her boot; unsure about how to fill the awkward silence. “Name is Jaggalor York.”

“Your name is Jaggalor York?” he asked dryly.

She scoffed out a single loud laugh. “No, my ship is named the Jaggalor York. I call her the Yorker for short, but she’s becoming a bit of a burden on me.”

“It would appear so.” Mando said. He was a man who did not see the point in unnecessary conversation.

For the first time, she looked at the Mandalorian’s impressive armour and her eyes settled on the brown sac as his side. “What’s in there?” she asked, gesturing with her chin.

“Nothing” he replied flatly, hoping she wouldn’t push the issue further.

As he spoke, the little green bundle rose his head and with big black eyes, stared directly at the girl. “Well hello there, sweet little man.” Her voice changing to a child-friendly tone, squatting down to ensure she was at eye level with him. “Aren’t you just the cutest.” She said as he cooed and giggled at her, grasping her finger in his tiny hand.

Mando had never seen the kid react this way with anyone before, and for the second time in one day, he smiled under his helmet. Mando could not recall the last time he had smiled; let alone twice in one day. There was something about this girl…

Just then, he had a thought and before he could reason himself out of it, he made a bold statement. “Listen, if you’re looking for work, I might be able to help you.”

The girl was still squatting beside the kid in the sac, and she looked up at him. “Really? What kind of work?” as she narrowed her eyes at him.

He looked down at her, his expression under his helmet unreadable “I need someone to help me look after the kid, to go on jobs. I need someone who can take care of themselves. Someone I won’t have to worry about.” He said in a monotone, gravelly manner. “Plus, it may be in your best interest to leave this planet.” He gestured towards the main road, where more Devaronian crew members were starting to gather and appeared to be heading in the direction of the cantina.

She breathed out a heavy long sigh. “Okay. But you need to agree to drop me off at the nearest planet if things don’t work out.”

“I can agree to that.”

“Okay. Let’s talk credits,” she said impassively.

The trio then walked briskly to the Crest, where they boarded the ramp quickly. Once onboard, she looked around, taking note of the very small space that would be her home for the foreseeable future and wondered if she had made a huge mistake. The Mandalorian then unpacked his charge, placing the sleepy creature in his hammock.

“Come on up. We’ll be taking off shortly” he said climbing the ladder to what she presumed was the cockpit.

“Nice ship. What’s her name?” she asked, as she climbed up behind him.

“Razor Crest.” He responded.

She nodded, buckling herself into the worn leather passenger seat behind the pilot’s chair. Mando expertly worked the controls and lifted off with ease.

“I’m Sloan by the way. Sloan Bira”.

Not saying anything, the Mandalorian turned his head to the side and gave a nod.

“Nice to meet you too, Mando.” She said; her voice dripping with sarcasm, as she gave an eye roll.

Under his helmet, Mando smiled for the third time that day.

Read more here —> https://archiveofourown.org/works/27826516/chapters/68124502#main

#the mandalorian #mando #din djarin #pedro pascal #mandalorian smut #star wars #star wars smut

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