#please ignore the bad cross-hatching

[starweed]

here he is

this is my art, please don’t be mean to me (i haven’t drawn anything like this in over a year)

[winterzsurprise]

Thirty Minutes || Miguel O'hara

Pairing: Miguel O'hara x F!reader

Summary: After convincing Miguel to take a break from working, he generously granted you thirty minutes with him and you know how you'd spend it.

Words: 1.7k

Tags: NOT BETA READ, smut, rough sex, vaginal fingering, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, squirting, big dick Miguel, standing sex, deep penetration, fang play, office sex (i guess?)

This is so rushed but he just do things to me. He breathes and I start giggling and twirling my hair. I am so feral for him I'm sorry (not sorry). I swear I'll bring more flavor next time :''DD

forgor to note that the glasses part is heavily inspired by that one scene from a kdrama named "Business Proposal".

hermosa - beautiful || cariño - honey || mi vida - my life || mi amor - my love

Being the leader of the inter-dimensional spider hub, it's expected for Miguel to be drowning with tasks and reports to analyze at any time of day. You accepted that fact when you started dating him on the down low.

You didn't care that he's busy since your time is also taken by fighting crimes and eventual missions. Plus, at the end of the day, the make up sex is godly.

But you find it hard to tolerate it when days and nights blurs without him leaving his office unless he needs to eat and use the bathroom.

Apparently, Jessica has held a few interventions for him with Peter B. and it failed every time. Miguel threw them out and threatened to shut Layla down if she didn't block their access to his office.

Passing by you in the lobby after another mission, Peter B. asked you with a stern look while Mayday babbled, mirroring the seriousness of her dad.

"Please do anything to get him to leave his office. I beg of you."

So after dinner where there's less activities and presence in the hub, you head straight to his office with barely a plan in mind. Clearly confident you'd make the man rest, even for fifteen minutes.

The hatch parts open and you are met by the image of him reading out a report in formal clothing and square glasses, sitting at the edge of the platform. He briefly looked up from the report before returning back to his task.

"Let me guess, Peter sent you here?"

"I heard they've already hosted a couple of interventions and rallies."

Miguel huffed, pitching the bridge of his nose. "Such a waste of time, they could have been in their home world watching over their cities."

"Come on, you know that they're just concerned about you."

"And you're here because you're also concerned?"

You laughed, webbing onto the ceiling and pulling yourself up to land beside him. “Are you really going to act this way, Miguel?”

Miguel didn’t respond, focusing on reading on the report about the paper Doc Ock variant found in Earth 2199 written by the Victorian Spider-Man. You settled on sitting next to him in silence after retracting your suit back.

His subtle glances on your skin tight shorts didn't go unnoticed but you ignored it in favor of 

You took the time to observe the man whose bulky body is covered in a simple  dress shirt with three buttons down and black pants that complemented the thickness of his thighs. The square glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose only added more flavor to his attire.

He's criminally dashing.

After being away for days to catch an anomaly and crime fighting in your own world, you couldn't ignore the simmering desire bubbling in your abdomen.

How could you not be when your darling looks like a five star Michelin meal in front of you?

Your attention seemed to bother Miguel, who let out a defeated sigh. “Alright, what do you want?”

“I just want to spend time with you, is that so bad?”

Miguel deadpanned at you, seemingly disturbed by the thought before putting the reports down and turning to face you fully with his arms crossed. His eyes scanned your form up and down, letting his head fall back before groaning.

“Alright, I’ll bite. You got thirty minutes.���

You grinned. "That's all I need."

He raised an eyebrow at that but before he could question it, you captured his lips with yours. As if the kiss was a droplet on the water, the ripples caused by the taste of his lips awakened the lust simmering in the pit of your stomach.

His hands found your hips and pulled you close until you rediscovered your rightful seat on his thighs. Rough and calloused touch sneaked past your top and crawled up to the swell of your breast.

Miguel pulled away, removing his glasses—quite erotically—before diving back to lose himself in your lips.

"Is this what you plan on using your thirty minutes for?"

"You know it'll last longer than thirty."

"I doubt that."

His words sent jolts of pleasure down your spine, igniting your nerve endings alight.

"Are you really going to fuck me in your office, boss?"

"Don't 'boss' me, hermosa and you know I'd spread you open no matter the location."

His hands unclasped the front of your bras and spared no time in covering your flesh with his. The rough texture of his palm rubbing against your firm nipples got you moaning, hips twisting in his thighs desperate for stimulation.

Pulling away, Miguel's lips fell to your throat, his tongue roamed the skin above your heartbeat that rose when his razor sharp teeth grazed your flesh, threatening to pierce. With the soft suckles on your neck and the rough massage on your mounds, you were a moaning mess, tugging helplessly on his hair and grinding pathetically on him.

"You're so desperate for me, mi amor. Did you miss me that much?"

"Shut up and just touch me, please."

He groaned, deep. "You sound so adorable when you beg, baby."

He quickly made work of your shirt, tossing it along with your bra before moving to tugging your shorts off. Your hands busies itself with his dress pants, desperate to feel the heat of his skin against your own and to feel the curve of his girth once more.

It didn't take long before you're both naked and bare to anyone who dares enter his chambers. A shrill excitement electrifies your skin at the thought of being caught, the riskiness of being discovered and seen being devoured by the man you love oddly arouses you further.

Though you're sure with how possessive he is, Miguel has already shut the gates to anyone till he's done with you.

But it was an interesting thought to have while his three of his fingers savagely thrusts in and out of your hole, the other hand grounding your hips made it impossible to escape the onslaught of pleasure after pleasure striking your nerves down, you screamed, clawing at his broad back as he fingered you open.

Miguel grunts. "Scream louder for me, mi vida. I want to hear how good I make you feel."

His thumb found your clit and started drawing figures of eight on them, the knot in your abdomen twists tighter as you climb towards your orgasm. There's a wet squelch building up to bounce in the chamber and you flush red yet Miguel took it as a compliment, increasing his speed and curling three fingers upwards more.

Your legs shook violently from where they stood beside his wide thighs before the knot unfurled and you came with a shout, trembling pathetically in his hold. The sudden onslaught of serene euphoria makes you light-headed and you rest your forehead on his shoulder.

He pulled away, choosing to be merciful and let your shaking figure settle down before continuing.

"You didn't squirt? What a shame."

"F-fuck you."

"Don't lie, cariño." There's a grin in his voice as he pulls you flush to him. "I know you like it when I leave you writhing pathetically."

Not sparing any second, he stands up and you wrap your arms around his neck, already sensing his plan as he reaches down to line the tip of dick with your sopping heat. The sensation of his girth so near your entrance re-igniting the suffocating arousal and desire in your body.

"And god, do I miss seeing you cock-drunk and shaking."

Plunging in deep, your mouth falls and you scream. The hilt of his girth grazing your uterus along with the burn of the stretch sparking every nerve endings alight. The familiar feeling of his cock reminding your hole who it belongs to made you feel dizzy, it was too much but it feels so good.

His thrusts are unforgiving, rattling your soul every time his hips collide with yours, leaving you breathless and moaning unintelligible words. His fangs digs into the crook of your neck as he pants and groans into your skin.

The sensation of your pebbled nipples rubbing against his chest sends electric shocks down your spine, adding onto your quick climb to your high.

You could barely make out the Spanish words he's whispering like a prayer, mind fogged with nothing but the pure nirvana he was handing to you. 

"Fuck, you feel so good for me. Always so sweet and tight for me, yeah?"

"Yes yes yes…!"

One of his hands grabbed hold of your jaw, forcing you to meet his dark red eyes. "You're not leaving this fucking room until I'm done with you, understand?"

You nod vigorously, wanting nothing but to please him enough to reward you with another orgasm. His lips found your neck once more, nibbling on your skin and teasingly dragging his fangs in his conquest to mark you, which shook you from your stupor, pushing his head away.

"No-not too much. It'll show."

Miguel's eyebrow raised, unfazed. "And?"

"T-they'll find out."

He scoffed. "I don't fucking care. Let them know who fuck you well and bare."

Angling his hips, he grazes a spot and you cry before the next plunge hits it, your legs began to shake around him with every thrust. Tears blurred your vision as pleasure invaded your very being, it didn't take long before you burst in his arms, your arousal painting his clenched stomach.

"That's it. Give it to me."

Ramping his speed, you howled. Pain started to mix with euphoria but you couldn't stop, it's not enough to satiate your famished soul. 

"F-fuck…! I-I don't think I can a-anymore."

You squealed at the sharp stinging pain left by his hand on your clit. "You will and I'll make sure of it."

Palming your bead more gently than his savage thrusts, he tightened the coil in your stomach tighter and tighter until it exploded and splattered once more unto his glistening abs, legs writhing helplessly in the air.

With the unbearable tightness of your velvet walls around his dick, Miguel soon followed. Hot liquid arousal painting your insides white with every pulse of his dick. You groaned at the familiar feeling of fullness before wincing at the pain of overstimulation.

Slapping his back, you whined. "I'm so fucking sore and you'll make me walk out by myself. How fucking cruel of you."

Miguel grumbled, catching his breath as he sat you both down on the floor.

"Who said you're leaving, cariño?"

[first-edition]

Cardio

Inspired by Henry’s cardio interview

Henry might not go run in the gym but he is cardio at home with you. Your his cardio.

Smut- p in v. Unprotected (wrap it before you tap it), pet names, sex, dirty talk, oral male rec. use of toys.

You sit criss cross in the comfy gaming chair your headphones on and controller in hand absolutely slaughtering the other team.

“Yeah yeah on top of hatch.” You lead your friends as you play. You all laugh and talk and the winning screen hits.

“Fuck yeah!” You throw your hands up in victory.

“Y/n?” You hear your boyfriend of 2 years walk into the room.

“Yes?!” You call back to him as another match begins.

He chuckles walking into your gaming room. His large hands rest in your shoulders squeezing lightly.

“I’m home and…That’s my shirt.” He says

You smile and nod

“Uh I think so they’re at spawn right now.” You say answering your friends. His hands move down your front onto your breasts, then stomach and waist as he leans down kissing you cheek and neck making you giggle and lean into him.

“H-Henry…you gonna make me loose.” You say

“Mhm” he replies kissing the sweet spot on your neck making your eyes close for a second.

“H-how was work?” You ask

“Uneventful…” He says his hand slipping down your thigh his fingers brushing over your panties.

“Fu-Henry..” you whisper so your friends down hear.

“H-hey guys I gotta go…” you say your friends whine and call for you but you ignore it pulling off your head phone outing your controller down. You turn around in your knees wrapping your arms around his neck kissing him as he pulls you up and off the chair.

Your legs wrap around his waist. He chuckles into your lips. Leading your both too you bed he puts you down and pulls off his shirt his huge muscles showing through.

You bite you lip as his hands search your body kissing your neck. He pulls back to take off his shirt your wearing unbuttoning the large shirt exposing your breasts to him. His hand takes hold giving it a squeeze causing you to gasp. You pull him back into you kissing him.

You push him over straddling him as he chuckles at your eagerness. You run your hand up and down his chest eventually move it farther down to his belt. You move down on his legs slightly pulling off his belt, and unbuttoning his pants. You reach into his boxers pulling out his hardener dick. 

His groans at your touch making you smile. 

“tell me… did you have a good day at work?” You ask while stroking up his shaft. 

He breaths out pushing his hips up into your hand. “N-no.” He huffs.

“tell me what happened?” You ask leaning down ass in the air as he props himself up on his elbows.

“th-the other actor couldn’t..remember his lines..a-and, fuck-”  You submerge his cock into your mouth swirling your tongue around his tip.

“Annoyed me..” he huffs out letting his head back in pleasure as his tip hits the back of your throat. 

“f-fuck baby please…” he says as you suck and bob your head up and down on him wanting to make him feel good after a long hard day. You hum at his notions for you to be rougher with him. His cock twitches in your mouth at the vibrations. You pull off him giving him on last lick before you move up your clothed, wet cunt hovering over his dick.

he sits up taking your panties in had and tearing off you and throwing them. You gasp at his actions both turned on and annyoed as he could’ve just as easily move them to the side. Putting your arms around his neck as his lips smash against your in a kiss..

You grind your hips back and forth stroking him. At this point he’s had enough and is tired of your games. He pushes you to the side so he’s on top he sits up taking off his pants and boxer both of you now naked in bed.

“i had a bad day hon and your gonna fix it.” He say. You bite you lip nodding as he pushes into you roughly, and with out warning. 

“FUCK!” You moan loudly as he fucks your cunt. Stretching you deeply Shirley brusing your cervix. He pulls your hands above your head as he watches you face twist in pleasure. 

Henry moans deeply as he pulls your leg over his shoulder.

“h-Henry ah!” You moan your nails digging into the bag of his hand. As you clench around him. He kisses and marks up your neck and chest. 

The hand that holds your leg moves down as his thumb plays with your clit. Causing your eyes to cross and roll back. He chuckles at what he’s doing to you. Despite seeing you this at least twice a week. He will never get tired of it. Wanting nothing more that to make you feel good. Like the gentleman he is.

He suddenly pulls out causing you to gasp at the cold that hits your hot pussy. 

Letting go of you arms he kisses your lips before pulling away and flipping you over on your stomach. You get on you hands and knees spreading your legs apart ass in the air. 

He gives your cheek a little slap before kissing it and another slap. Angling himself perfectly with you he slams into you again causing you back to arch and throw your head forwards. 

He reaches down and grabs your breast squeezing it before pulling you up your back against his chest his large hand around your neck and other with fingers playing with you clit. 

The absolutely pronographic moan that leave your body make him more feral and more needy with every thrust. Never wanting to leave your body never wanting to leave you.

“Ah Fuck!” He groans breathing into your neck.

“Please m-more.” You whine 

“not good enough for you baby?” He asks moaning in your ear as your already shaking legs begin to give out.

“i-..” you trail off. 

“uh uh love you gotta use your words.” He retorts thirsting up into you causing your you squeal.

“I-i want you to use me! Ngh” you reply.

“good girl.” Pushing you down into the fluffy pillows of the bed he lets go of you and leans over to the fourth drawer of the night table. Pulling the pink wand vibrator off it’s charger. He clicks it on.

Before you can turn and see what the noise is he turns you on your back and presses it to you clit on the highest setting. Your mouth opens and back arches. Your knees come together as you cum.

He prys your legs open and once against fucks you as you cum and shake.

“Oh fuck yeah..shit-“ he moans out when as you scratch at his arms. Completely over stimulating you he find his release as your walls clench and twitch around him.

He spills inside you continuing to fuck his cum in you.

Finally he pulls back leaving the vibrator on you. Pinning your hands above your head as he watches your third orgasam. He puts his hand on the budge on his dick in your stomach pushing down. As he sensually slides himself in and out.

He cuts his eyes mouth open as your cunt pulses around him making him cum again even though he came minutes before.

Pull the vibrator away and turning it off as your chests heaves. He pulls out of you chuckling at your dazed state he’s caused. Legs open head thrown back arms above your head and chest rising and falling.

You don’t realize that he’s gotten up and gotten a damp cloth and came back to the room. He pushes his hair back as he crawls onto the bed again and cleans you off as he kisses your body worshiping you. You smile and thank him as he nods pulling you to sleep.

After cleaning you he pulls the sheets over your sleeping body. He gets in next to you pulling you close to him not letting you go.

[peterparkersnose]

Bitter Kisses

Din Djarin x reader

Mandalorian x reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: angst, jealousy, swearing

a/n who watched the bubble? dieter bravo was a slut i loved it

summary Din gets jealous when he sees Y/N with another man

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 4 mins 39 seconds

The exhausting trip from the town back to the Razor Crest seemed to last an eternity. Din used the only speeder on the ship, so you would walk to town and let him use it for hunting (against his many, insisting requests that you take it). Your legs ached as the child clung to them, resting in a pouch on your hip. The sound of the crunchy plains and crickets filled your ears. It was near dark. You let out a sigh of relief when you saw the speeder resting outside the crest. 

Din was home.

You find the heart of the ship empty, figuring Din was in the pit. Grogu escaped your pouch and made his way to his hammock, waiting for you to prepare him a snack. The supplies and food you bought clanked against the walls. You let the heavy bags down, making an even louder noise. Turning your back to chop some frog legs, you didn’t even hear the cockpit door open. You were startled when you turned around to find the Mandalorian staring directly at you. 

“Well, hello to you too.” you hum, passing by his very oddly off putting demeanor. You could never tell with that wall of beskar hiding his emotions. Grogu happily accepted his treat, but gave his father a weird look. Din was leaning up against the Razor Crest wall, arms crossed and leg pointed. 

Matching Grogu’s weird stare, you scooted past him back to the kitchen. “I got more parts, like you asked. Got a good deal on them too,” you announced, sorting through the knick knacks you had bought that day. Bewildered by the silence from Din, you tried to ignore his bad demeanor and start making dinner. “I’m making that soup you like- you know… the one with the potatoes?” you asked. Din let out a muffled sigh through his mask. Grogu sighed in his hammock, shuffling around. Din patted his head, and opened the hatch. 

Confused, you scoffed and followed him out into the field. The sun was setting, showing a bright purple and pink sunset. “Where are you going?” you yelled, chasing after him. His steps were a lot wider than yours, and he had a headstart. “Din!” you yelled. This stopped him dead in his tracts. “What is the matter with you?” you asked, catching up to him and bracing onto his arm from the momentum of you running. He shrugged you off. 

“I can’t see your face under that mask. How am I supposed to know what’s wrong?” you asked, staring into the slot in the mask where his eyes would be. 

“I saw you with that man today,” Din whispered, barley eligible. “Din, your gonna have to speak up-”

“I saw you with that man today!” he yelled, swerving around your body. You watched his cape whip past you and his heavy boots slurp in the mud. “What?” you yelled back, following him back to the ship. “What are you talking about? Why did we have to go outside?” you sarcastically asked, flicking your wrists in confusion. Din scooped up Grogu trying to escape, and started to close the hatch. You had to jump on to avoid being locked out. “What the fuck Din!” you yelled, crawling up from the hatch. You watched him strut towards the pit door, but you ran ahead and blocked it. “What man?” you yelled, making the child coo. Din set him down. You heard him waddle away, waiting for Grogu to leave the room. 

“Din, please talk to me.” you begged. “Move.” he insisted. “Din!” you yelled, tears forming in your eyes. He looked away from you. “I really have no idea what your talking about,” you sighed. 

“The man I told you to stay away from? I saw you with him in the square today.” Din grunted. 

You moved past him, into the open ship. You were shocked. “Y-you followed me?” 

Din looked down. “I was following a lead-” “Din, you followed me?” you cut him off. “I told you to stay away from him!” he yelled. 

Your mind wandered to the earlier events of today. The man who got you a deal on all your parts today. “It was for the crest!” you yelled. “I told you he was a swindler! I bet he sold you pieces of junk.” Din scoffed. “Din! Where is this coming from?” you asked, grabbing his shoulder. He just stared at you.

“Your not… jealous. Are you?” you smirked. Din turned around and made his way to the cockpit. You followed him. “Is Din Djarin jealous?” you taunted. “I am NOT jealous,” he yelled back, sitting back in his pilot’s chair. “Then why do you have such an issue with me socializing with a man?” you said, cocking your head. Din sat silent. “If you don’t want to admit it, be my guest.” you sighed, leaving him to simmer in the cockpit. 

Under his mask, Din was fuming. It was wrong to be angry about this. He wasn’t even with you. But the cold nights where the crest lost power, where he cuddled you. When you became Grogu’s mother. Remembering his favorite soups and making them for him. Always being excited for him when he brought in a new bounty, even if it was the same process of freezing them every time. A simple ship worker made the Djarin clan whole. The thought of you leaving, being with another man furiated Din. 

***

The night simmered the tension in the ship. Grogu sensed it, and was whiney all night. Between the turns you and Din bringing Grogu to their cot, walking him around the ship, and trying to feed him nothing worked. After another meal of frog legs, he finally settled down. Exhausted, you sat with the sleeping baby at the table. One arm held him, one arm sat against the table cradling your head. 

Din noticed the weird silence, and went to see what was up. His heart skipped a beat when he saw you with his son. He removed his helmet, and quietly placed it on the table next to you. The disruption in the table’s silence awoke you, waking up to find Din maskless. This wasn’t uncommon anymore in the ship anymore, especially when the light was darker and it was night time. You saw him and sighed, placing your head back on the table. 

He sat next to you. “I am sorry.” he spit out. You didn’t move. His hand extended to your back, rubbing small circles on your shoulder. You let out a long sigh. “I was wrong of being…” he struggled to say. “Jealous.” he finally spit out. You sit up and yawned, making sure Grogu was tight to your lap. Your head met his shoulder, exhausted. “It’s okay.” you murmured. “Cyar'ika,” he said endearingly, taking your face in his palm. “It is wrong to behave this way. I-I just had a hard time. Seeing you with…” 

You leant into his hand and let out a small smile. You met his hand with yours and kissed his thumb. “Don't worry Din. I’m not going anywhere.” you smiled. His forehead met yours and you both smiled. His nose bumped yours, and you felt the force pull you two together. Or maybe it was Grogu playing cupid, who knows. 

His lips were so soft. Something you would have never expected. He had an odd taste of salt. You didn’t know, but it was from his previous tears. His tongue felt soft against yours, trying not to be so aggressive. 

That night turned cold like so many other familiar nights. That night, you all slept together as a family. The official clan of three, Clan of Djarin. 

-

tag list: @peeta-is-useless @kirsteng42 @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0

[bowdownbucky]

𝐁𝐀𝐃, 𝐁𝐀𝐃, 𝐁𝐀𝐃 !

part 2 <3

summary: you have an encounter with your best friend’s brother bucky!

pairing: innocent! reader x college! bucky

warnings: cursing, asshole! steve rogers, kissing, drug use, oral (female receiving) fingering.

your heart began to beat heavily, bucky didn’t care that his sister was outside of the door but you started to feel guilty. this was so wrong of you and you didn’t even want to look at yourself. “you better answer her sweethear, she’s not gonna leave.” bucky taunts you, he hand trails your stomach, groping your breasts hard. “uh-im almost finished, i h-had to ohhh.” you slap you hand over your mouth, bucky smirks as he pinches you nipple again.

“what?” rebecca moved closer to the door. “are you okay? i’m coming in.” your eyes widens, you pushed bucky away and slowly cracked the door. “i’m f-fine, the um…pizza! the pizza went down the wrong hatch.” you lie. rebecca’s face screws up. “ew i did not need to know that y/n” you watch as she walks into her room. you close the door, leaning your head back onto the wooden frame.

you closed your eyes and hoped that this was all a dream, that you didn’t actually kiss your best friends brother. you slowly open your eyes only to meet a pair of blue eyes, bucky laughs at you. “went down the wrong hatch? seriously?” you cross your arms in front of your chest. “well what was i supposed to say, sorry can’t talk now i’m making out with your brother. she’s kill me!” you exclaim, you ran your hands down your face in an irrational manner. this was too much for you and bucky didn’t see anything wrong with it.

“would you chill out? here take a hit, it will make you feel better.” bucky offers the small bud once more, you smack it out of his hand. “do you always solve your problems with weed!” you hiss. his eyes were low, he watched as the joint flew onto the ground. you hitch your breath realizing what you did, you see his tongue rub his lower lip. you almost melt at the sight.

“your gonna regret the doll.” he seethes into your ear. he pushes you against the door, you let out a yelp but he covers your mouth. “i know a way you can make it up to me, and you are gonna make it up to me. you know why baby?” you shake your head. “because you don’t want to get on my bad side. i would hate to ruin that innocence of yours.” he whisperers, he hands managed to find their way to you ass, giving it a light squeeze before letting you go.

you move from the door and he exits the bathroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts. you could barely comprehend what happened let along what he meant by his bad side. you grabbed the nail polish remover and walk back to rebecca room. “finally! you took forever.” you mumble a small sorry and sat on her bed, she lends you her hand and you get to work on her nails, she chose a peach color and wanted you to add a french tip, such a classic.

as you continue painting her nails she squeals making you mess up the curved line. “becca! your nails!” you groan. “i don’t care! why didn’t you tell me?” you tilt your head confusingly. “you and steve hooked up and you didn’t tel me?!” you eyes go wide. “what! no! where did you get that from?” you ask her. she huffs. “no, no, no, no don’t try to act all innocent! you and chris did it and there is evidence on your neck. i rest my case.” you rush off the bed and check your neck, you internally face palm seeing dark purple marks all over your neck.

“i had no idea steve was like that. i guess i have to stop making fun of him now.” she chuckles. “just taking me home my ass! so how was it? was he big? why arent you giving me details.” rebecca whines, kicking her feet in her bed. you ignored her and attempted to kneed out the hickies. as you run the marks you notice bucky staring at you from his room door, you could practically feel his smirk as you watched his reflection go back to his room. you heart raced as you tried to come up with an excuse.

“it’s no big deal i just burnt myself with a straightener.” you curse to yourself knowing she wouldn’t fall for that. “fine don’t tell me! i’m going to sleep, all this secrecy has made me tired.” rebecca yawns, you hoped she wouldn’t ask you about the hickey again because lying was never your forte. you lie in the large bed, clouded in your own thoughts.

did he like you? was he just messing with you? you had so many assumptions of why he kissed you, what bothered you the most was that you had steve. steve was a jock and you were an outcast, you didn’t know how it would work. even though you and steve hadn’t officially said you were together, you still respected him and wanted to be faithful.

the next morning at school, you kept your head down and didn’t talk to anyone for the most part. no one really seems to notice because you were kind of a nobody. you sat in your forensics class, jotting down notes here and there. you stop writing when you feel a hand creep up your thigh. you turn your head toward steve, he kept a straight face and didn’t acknowledge how unamused you were.

“what are you doing?” you whisper. steve’s hand tries to travel up your skirt but you close your legs firmly. “steve!” he turns to you. “we’re in the middle of class.” you point out. “i’m sorry you know i can’t resist you baby. let me make it up to you but taking you out after homecoming.” you hault yourself as you almost roll your eyes at him. steve could be pushy sometimes especially when it came to losing your virginity to him. you hated that rebecca told him that, now he wouldn’t leave you alone.

“oh really.” you say pretending to be intrigued. “the guys and i bought hotel rooms for tonight and we get to bring a special girl along. and you know since your my favorite girl, i thought we could go together and have fun. go swimming, watch movies, kiss, cuddle, the whole nine and maybe some other stuff if you want.” you remove his hand from your thigh and continue writing notes. “i told you steve i’m not ready for that stuff yet.”

steve huffs, returning back to the lesson. your virginity wasn’t something that you kept sacred but you wanted you first time to be meaningful and steve hadn’t even asked you to be his girlfriend yet so your answer would always be no if he asked. when school ended you took the bus home, you quickly packed a bag full of makeup, hair supplies and your clothes for homecoming. you checked the time, almost cursing yourself seeing how you were going to be late to rebecca’s house.

you ran as fast as you could to the barnes’ house, you could practically feel the lecture rebecca was going to give you. luckily, you live a few blocks down from the barnes so it wouldn’t be too long of a walk/run. when you arrived at the barnes’ you quickly rang the doorbell. the door opens’ revealing a shirtless bucky who looked like he just got out of the shower. “can i help you?” he smirks looking down on you.

“becca t-told m-me to come, for homecoming.” you gulped attempting to maintain eye contact. his couldn’t help but peek at his glistened abs, you really hoped he didn’t catch on to you checking him out. before he could let out a snarky comment rebecca came gritting down the stairs with curlers in her hair. “there you are! y/n your late and we only have three hours to get ready.” you pushed pass bucky and ran up the stairs.

bucky watched at how nervous you were, it was like the fuel he ran on. rebecca closed her door and pushes you onto her vanity chair. “please tell me i have creative freedom tonight!” rebecca pleads with her big blue eyes staring at you. you sigh and nod. she kisses your forehead before beginning your makeup.

after a few hours of prodding, poking, blending, and brushing, rebecca finally finished your makeup and hair. normally you wouldn’t wear makeup because you didn’t know how to do it very well but when you did have it on you truly looked like a princess. “now carefully get into your dress y/n, i swear to god if you mess up an eyelash i will kill you.” she threatens you with her high pitched voice. you removed your jeans and shirt revealing your body, you quickly unzipped the dress as you start to compare your body to rebecca’s. becca was tall and slim while you were a little curvy. you had a small tummy with stretchmarks and she had a flat tummy with a slender waist. your best friend was beautiful and you didn’t want to see mom jealous, so you put up a front and delt with it.

you and rebecca were finally dressed, rebecca looked stunning in her white and pink dress. with the help of rebecca and mrs.barnes, you had pick a pale green dress, the curve of the dress fit you like a glove. the creases on the dress made you look more mature and sexier. you were never use to being sexy so the look on your face made rebecca freak out. “you totally hate it, i knew we should’ve gone with the black dress.” you shake your head. “n-no! it looks…great. thank you becks.” the door opens, your heart quickens when you meet a pair of bright eyes. you noticed bucky had put on a shirt, a part of you were bummed out. “would it kill you to knock! we’re girls who need privacy!” rebecca yells. bucky didn’t give his sister the time of day, his eyes were fixated on you. you felt self conscious as he stared at you long and hard. “mom and dad are going to a banquet dinner in manhattan. they won’t be back until tomorrow.” he tells rebecca. she crossed her arms in confusion. “what? no! i was supposed to have the car tonight. how the hell are we supposed to get to hoco?” rebecca flings her arms up dramatically.

bucky chuckles at his sister’s agony. “wait!” you spoke up as bucky was about to walk away. “c-can y-ou drive us?” you ask quietly. rebecca pulled your arm. “are you crazy? do you know what people say if we shows up to homecoming in a pickup truck?” rebecca vocalized. you couldn’t care less what people had to say, you just wanted and excuse to be see bucky. “becca this is important to you and even you said yourself we had to be there under any circumstances.”

rebecca whines. “fine but you’re dropping us off a block away. i need to retouch my hair, you’ve made me stress away the curls.” you watched as she pushes past bucky, leaving the two of you. you stare at him for a second then turn around, attempting to act uninterested. “you know you should skip this whole homecoming thing altogether.” bucky told you. “what! no, this is important to becca and i promised her i’d be there.” you felt his presence behind you, your back was pressed to his front. “come on doll, you never seemed like the type to be into this stuff anyway. i have a few places we could go instead. wouldn’t that be way more fun.” he was baiting you and hell, you were falling for it very hard. he pushed your hair to the side, laying a kiss on your shoulder. his hand cupped your waist, pulling you as close as you could get.

his pressed more kisses up your neck, he liked testing you, he would make you beg for it if you gave him the chance. “c’mom dollface, don’t you wanna have fun with me?” you almost gave him a nod but refrained. “i should go help rebecca, see you in a few james.” you walk away smiling to yourself, you won this round of the game but best believe, bucky was going to win the next level.

you sat in between bucky and rebecca once more, y’all were currently picking up nathan and steve, your dates for the evening. “you look beautiful beck.” nathan smiles at his girlfriend. rebecca left you in the front with bucky so she could kiss her boyfriend more. steve walks to the front car door but bucky locks him out. “hey man, open the door.” steve groans. the two had seem to have history and now you were going to be in between it. “you know the rules big guy, no douches in the front seat.” bucky smirks. “then why are you sitting up here asshole?” steve sarcastically jokes. rebecca huffed from the back, leaning in the front of the seat. “hey dickheads, we don’t have time for this, have your cat fight after hoco. let’s go!” she demands. steve huffs, taking a seat next to the couple who had no problem with pda.

the ride to the school was pretty silent except for the rock music playing from the radio. you stared out of the window, you could tell bucky was mad because of how tight he was holding the steering wheel, his knuckles were almost white from the tight grip. suddenly, his hand was on your thigh. your eyes widened, you quickly look back to make sure no one saw what was happening. “what are you doing?” you whisper. he doesn’t say anything to you, his hand stays on your thigh and his eyes stay on the road but you could still see the smirk on his face. you tried to push his his hand away but he only moves it higher, almost touching your core. you didn’t want to play games anymore, you were never built for them, you open your legs up more, instead of doing what you wanted, he removed his hand. “alright guys, have a good night.” rebecca and nathan were the first ones to leave the truck. steve exits the truck and stands by youre window. “you coming?” you nod to him. “i’ll be out in a second.” steve walks away from the window, bucky bursts out into laughter.

you throw a punch at his arm but he doesn’t flinch at you. “thats not funny! you’re so mean.” you pout. “no what’s funny is you actually going out with steve.” you eye him in confusion. steve was a good guy, he could be a little pushy but that was just high school boys. “he’s nice and he asked me to go with him. i really don’t see what’s funny bucky.”

“you think just because the guy asked you to a dance, he suddenly changes his player ways. i think you forgot i use to be one of those guys. guys like that don’t fal for girls like you” he pauses. “all he wants is to get you under him and then he’s gonna hop to the next willing participant. god you’re so naive.” you crossed your arms. “you’re such a jerk james! at least he has the decency to not play with my feelings! you’re sister was right! you’re nothing but a-an…asshole.” you yell, leaving the truck with a slam of the door. you surprised yourself at how you went off on him, what did he know about steve. you knew being involved with bucky was bad but now you officially got your sign to stay away from him.

you walked into the school looking for steve. you pushed pass people grinding and dancing on each other. when you find steve you see he’s not alone, he was dancing with lila miller. the two were close together, you turn you back in disgust once you catch the two of them share a very tongue-filled kiss. you sit at the table in annoyance. of course bucky would be right about steve, you hated the fact that he was right.

it took an hour and a half for steve to find you sitting at the table, watching everyone have fun. “hey y/n sorry i was waiting for you but then the guys wanted to go take some shots in the bathroom.” steve leans over to kiss your lips but you dodge him. he looks at you with a confused face. “come on let’s go dance.” he offers you his hand, you play with the fork that was covered in strawberry cake. “i’m good, maybe you should go dance with lila instead.” you say. steve sits back down in the chair, he cleared his throat. “you saw that? i didn’t think you’d be mad, it’s not like we’re together or anything.”

you roll your eyes, pushing your plate away from you. you get up and begin walking to the double doors. as you enters the hallways you ignore steve calling your name. “y/n! can you just wait a minute!” he yells, pulling your arm back causing you to hault. “it was just a dance, i was being nice. you can’t just get mad at me like that, i asked you to be my girlfriend more than once and you said no.”

“because all you want from me is sex which is not ready to give to you. you don’t think i hear about you hooking up with girls in the gym closet. i don’t want to be the next dumb girl who becomes a play thing for you.” you snap on him. “oh come on, sex is just sex, why do you make such a bug deal over this?” he groans.

“it’s not just sex steve, i want it to be meaningful and memorable. i’m sorry if i don’t want to hook up in a sleezy hotel.” you yell, your faces were extremely close. “and you think barnes is gonna make it special? god you’re so naive.” you furrow your brows, what did bucky have to do with this situation. “he has nothing to do with this steve! you asked me to come to this dance with you only for you to dance with another girl and make me look dumb sitting there waiting for you. you can’t take your hotel invite and shove it up your ass.” you walk away from steve, this time he didn’t bother calling your name. after he heard you curse at him he knew you guys were not going to work this out

you sit on the stairs of the school, tears slowly slid from your eyes. you felt so stupid and used, you knew steve was right but it still hurt. you two weren’t together and if he wanted to take another girl to the hotel he could because you weren’t together. you cringe at how bucky was right about steve, you wanted to be angry at him but he did warn you.

you decide to head home, walking alone the lonesome streets of brooklynn. you were wet due to the copious amount of rain fall, you shiver once more and continue to walk to your house. you noticed a familiar truck driving beside you. bucky rolls down his window. “get in.” he tells you. you continue walking, deciding to ignore the older boy. “come on doll it’s raining. a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking alone.” you couldn’t believe he as trying to flirt with you right now. you were hurt by his words and you were standing your ground, well that was until you heard a loud crack of lightning. you quickly rushed into the truck, slamming the door behind you.

before bucky could speak you began to talk. “just because i’m sitting in here with you, doesn’t mean i forgive you.” you seethed. bucky nods at you. “okay.” you angrily slap his arm. “okay? are you serious right now? how about a sorry for being a jerk!” you yell at him. bucky doesn’t acknowledge you, he starts looking for something in his truck. “god! boys are stupid! all you do is crave sex and hurt girls!” you rant, arms crossed over your chest. once you finished your rant you peek over at bucky holding two blunts. “wanna get high?”

you later found yourself in bucky’s room, high as a kite. you didn’t know what effect he had on you but you gave into his temptation. you sat on his bed, letting him shotgun smoke onto your mouth. “god you’re so hot.” bucky kisses your right shoulder. you softly hum in response, he trails his kisses to your exposed neck. you knew this was wrong on so many level but it felt so right.

“kiss me.” you whisper against him. the drugs in your system had your hormones at an all time high, you needed him to touch you. bucky locks his lips with yours, tongue roaming each other’s mouth in such a sensual way. bucky’s hand roams your body, cupping your breasts then your neck. you moan as he applies pressure to your throat.

he slides down you dress straps, with every kiss and touch you felt your dress being pulled lower and lower. bucky lifts you up on his lap, helping you out of the green champagne dress. you were fully exposed to him, his large hands grope your ass. he slaps the soft skin sending your lower half to grind against his tight jeans. bucky groans, pulling you closer to his bottom half. you felt the jean material rub against your clothes clit, your body shakes at the new feeling. “god you have no idea what you do to me princess.” he moans into your neck. his right hand unhooks your bra, you let the bra fall off of you. bucky eyes your bare chest, his blue eyes darken filling with lust.

he pulls your breast into his mouth, twirling his tongue around your swollen nipple. you grip onto his shirt, when moves your ass back and forth on his pants. “p-please bucky.” you whine, your body was aching for him to touch you. “what do you want doll?” you grab his, guiding him to your clothed cunt. you slip his hand under you, allowing his to grope your pussy. your mouth gapes open when bucky slowly rubs your clit back and forth.

when he notices you like the feeling of him touching you, it sends him into a deep lustful trance. he flips you over, bucky’ dog tags dangle over you. he kisses between your breast, trailing down to your stomach then he comes in contact with your laced white panties.

you can feel his breath on your wet core. he inhales you, moaning as if your cunt was the drug he was addicted to. he removed your panties from your body, bucky’s cock hardens once he caught a look at your pussy, your cunt was glistening from how wet it was, it took everything in bucky not to dive right in. “your so wet for me baby, and i haven’t even touched you yet. your pussy is begging for me to devour it.” bucky taunts. he slips one finger in your folds, your back arches at the finger passes your clit.

“bucky…please. i’ll do anything.” you beg. bucky perks an eyebrow at you. “anything?” you nod vigorously. “you’re going to cum for me three times. understand?” you nod your head. bucky licks a stride up your cunt. he moans at the taste of you. bucky wraps his pink lips around your clit, your legs spread wide as you beg for him to devour you. your back arches more, his hands pin your waist down to keep you steady, you screw your eyes shut as he sucks your clit into his mouth softly.

you moan out in pleasure, letting your hands grip his soft brown hair. you tug on his roots, attempting to push him closer to you. bucky pulls away earring a whine from you, he slips his middle finger into your core. at first his movements were slowly, he was preparing before adding his ring finger. you rode his fingers, moaning as he pumped you. you watch as he spits on your core, watching his saliva mix in with your cunt. you felt your stomach tighten, bucky felt your pussy clench around his fingers, imagining you around his cock.

he wastes no time, diving into your pussy. his tongue rapidly worked your clit, his fingers pumping you at a fast pace. your body was overwhelmed by all the stimulation. “bucky!” you scream at the top of your lungs. you were now grinding against his face, he didn’t tease you anymore, now he was on a mission to give you your orgasm. your legs shake, you cry out for bucky, your toes curled and your back arches to its full extent. bucky slows his movements as you come down from your high.

you collapse on his bed, you shiver as you feel bucky remove his hand from your pussy. you try to catch your breath, bucky hovers over you. “who knew my babydoll had that in you.”

[lonelyyinchicago]

hate - wolfstar

“NO, BECAUSE YOU DONT KNOW HOW IT FEELS TO CRACK YOUR BONES EVERY MONTH AND-”

“I HATE THIS - IT’S NOT ALL ABOUT YOU. SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME FOR ONCE!”

sirius screamed suddenly and uncontrollably, silencing remus. he advanced slowly, his hair falling across his face.

“do you really think i have no idea what excruciating pain feels like?” he asked, his voice dropping dangerously low. “do you? because i know you know for a fact that my mother used the crutiatus curse on me. that i’ve been tortured. i have scars too, remus. just because i don’t complain about them all the time doesn’t mean i don’t despise them as much as you do.”

“i- sirius.”

remus stepped forward in an attempt to close the gap between himself and his boyfriend. sirius backed away, reaching behind him for the door handle. he fiddled with it loosely before it opened, not daring to break the eye contact until he was out of the room. he turned on his heel, rushing out of the common room before james could stop him.

james paused, uncertain which friend to attend to first. he made his way slowly up to the dorm, flinching just outside the door as he heard a crash.

“remus?”

at first glance the room looked empty, but remus’ shaking shoulders from the other side of the bed soon caught james’ attention.

the bedside lamp was in pieces on the floor, remus’ hands dripping blood as he collected the broken shards of glass.

“what happened?” remus sniffed and continued to ignore james, who knelt down slowly next to his friend. “remus.”

remus looked up, his bottom lip shaking.

“i’ve lost him” he whispered. “i messed up.”

“wh-why would you think that? what did you say?”

“i-i wasn’t listening to him. i’ve just been a shit boyfriend. is that what you want me to say? is that what you wanted to hear?”

remus stood up suddenly, the pieces of glass he’d collected falling out of his lap.

“for fucks sake.”

“hey i’ve got it” james said, still on the floor. “reparo.”

remus laughed wryly - “i didn’t even think of that.”

james smiled sheepishly before repositioning the lamp on the bedside table.

“go get some dinner, remus.”

remus nodded obligingly, having no energy to argue. once remus had left the dorm james ran his fingers through his hair nervously. a quick check under sirius’ bed told him he hadn’t gone flying.

digging his invisibly cloak out from his trunk, he crossed the room to sirius’ bedside table, and retrieved a pack of cigarettes from the top drawer. shoving them deep in his pocket, he left gryffindor tower in search of his best friend.

as james pushed open the hatch onto the roof of the astronomy tower, a sharp wind blew through his hair. he made his way slowly towards sirius, his feet not as comfortable with the loose tiles. he sat down silently, waiting for sirius to speak.

after two minutes of nothing but owls, james pulled the packet of cigarettes out of his pocket. sirius raised an eyebrow but gratefully accepted the gift.

“i thought you didn’t approve” he said, his voice hoarse.

james shrugged, before taking sirius by surprise and lighting his own. he balanced it uncertainly between his teeth but breathed in easily enough.

“what happened to you?” sirius asked, nodding at the lighter james was fiddling with.

“stress - isn’t that what you always tell me?”

sirius almost smiled, and james took the opportunity to continue.

“what hap-”

“i don’t want to talk about it” sirius said abruptly, cutting james off.

“okay.”

james inhaled deeply, blowing out thick clouds of smoke into the cloudless sky. he felt sirius’ eyes on the back of his neck so turned to face his best friend. sirius stubbed his cigarette out before speaking, his voice catching in his throat.

“i’ve lost him, prongs.”

james let a smile form at his lips at sirius’ exact replica of remus’ earlier sentence.

“only if you choose to.”

sirius looked up through his hair and shook his head slightly. he lit a second cigarette, fumbling with the lighter, before giving up and pulling out his wand to light it.

“no. we’re over. james, i don’t know what to do.”

“tell him the truth” james told him. “owww!”

james dropped the shortened cigarette, rubbing his fingers as sirius snorted.

“you’re supposed to stub it out before it gets that close to your fingers” sirius informed him.

“yeah yeah” james said, getting to his feet. “you coming in?”

“sure - in a bit.”

the dorm was silent by the time james went to bed. he drew the curtains around his four-poster tightly, trying to stay awake to wait for sirius’ return.

lying back on the roof with one arm under his neck, sirius stared up at the sky. the night was still, and he lay in silence, the tears unstoppable. eventually his eyes closed, his eyelashes squeezing out the last of the tears.

on his way back from the bathroom, remus couldn’t help but notice sirius’ empty bed. james shrugged as nonchalantly as he could manage, before leaving the dorm.

“they don’t count as breakfast by the way.” james made his way across the roof much more quickly in the daylight. “did you stay up here all night?”

sirius nodded, putting the cigarette out on the inside of his wrist.

“SIRIUS!”

james lunged at his friend, his hand coming down hard on the back of sirius’ head.

“don’t do that, mate.”

sirius followed james down the ladder and into the great hall. sirius watched sleepily as james buttered toast for him. remus kept his eyes on his plate, pushing the mushrooms around uninterestedly.

sat on the end of the row, remus let his head fall into his hand, unable to make eye contact with anyone. he’d taken peter’s usual seat, leaving peter awkwardly between the estranged couple.

sirius shuffled in his seat uncomfortably, his quill tracing faint doodles of pain. he slumped over the desk, breathing slowly.

back in the common room, sirius threw himself onto the sofa, his textbook open, covering his face.

“can i copy someone’s notes from that lesson?”

he was met with silence, and sitting up, saw that no one was around other than remus, who was tactically avoiding the question.

“can i copy your notes?”

“no” remus replied shortly.

“moons . .” sirius stopped to check the room was empty before carrying on. “look i’m sorry about what i said last night. i-i didn’t mean it” sirius lied through his teeth for the last sentence, but it would be worth it if it would make remus talk to him.

“don’t lie to me. i don’t even mind that you did mean it, but don’t fucking lie to me.”

sirius made a grab at the roll of parchment in front of remus. he ran round the edge of the sofa away from remus’ outstretched hand to the small table he was sat at previously.

“give it back” remus said from above him.

“two minutes. moons, please.”

“one.”

it wasn’t sirius’ best handwriting, but he copied the notes quickly. he walked up to remus’ desk, holding out the original work. as remus snatched it back, it tore. sirius stepped back, as remus got up from his chair slowly.

even as sirius’ back hit the wall, remus continued to move closer.

“that wasn’t my fault” sirius said, before remus could even open his mouth.

“are you suggesting it was mine?” remus asked.

sirius swallowed the lump in his throat, as remus’ heartbeat drew closer to him.

“yes.”

remus’ lips pushed aggressively against sirius’ his teeth coming down hard on sirius’ tongue.

“really?”

“remus.”

“shhh let me just-”

“NO!” sirius pushed back, escaping remus’ arms. “this was the problem yesterday - let me talk.”

remus gestured loosely and sirius exhaled.

“okay. i can’t say it’s easy to pretend that i hate you because i don’t but you don’t listen to me. i love looking after you on full moons; you know i do, but you’re not the only person who suffers.”

“sirius-” remus’ ran a hand through his curls, as sirius bit his lip nervously. “i’m sorry. i’m here to listen now, if you’ll still talk to me.”

remus led the way to the sofa. sirius sat at the end, his legs outstretched, forcing remus to the other end.

“i just wish you’d listen to me more. like, actually listen, not just nod and kiss my nose as if that makes everything better. i mean it helps” sirius added, looking up at the boy at the end of the sofa with a small smile, “but i made such an effort to make you as comfortable as possible after every moon, but when i came back to school with new scars you just showed me yours and it felt like a competition that i could never win.”

“i’m sorry. y-your scars are beau-”

“no. that’s not what i want to hear. i want you to reassure me the way i always reassured you, i want you to show me that you care.”

“sirius.” remus moved off the arm of the sofa, slowly crawling over the cushions towards sirius. “i’ll do it now; let me do it now.”

sirius’ head fell back as remus’ lips made soft contact with his neck. sirius’ fingers closed around remus’ neck as remus moved away, looking down at the boy below him.

“i’m sorry” was all he could say.

sirius shrugged, pulling remus lower so his head rested on his chest.

“i’m sorry too. i didn’t mean to make you feel bad i was just pissed becaus-”

“i know i’m an idio-”

sirius slapped a hand over remus mouth: “you’re still not letting me finish.”

“sorry.”

“i don’t know anymore, remus. i don’t know what to do.”

remus waited for a moment to make sure sirius had finished.

“about what, love?” he asked, gently weaving dark hairs around his fingers.

“everything.” sirius sat up, his head against remus’ chest. “but i do know that i don’t hate you. that was a lie yesterday.”

remus breathed out, his chin on sirius’ head. he dipped it slightly to kiss sirius’ forehead. sirius looked up, his eyes softening.

“i’m sorry.”

“what for?” remus asked. “you have nothing to apologise for. oh wait no” remus interrupted himself. “you didn’t come to bed last night. you didn’t even come to the dorm.”

“yeah well.”

“your stubbornness is going to get you into some real trouble you know.”

“really? with who? you?” sirius teased. “go on then, teach me a lesson.”

“okay, let’s start with the charms work you didn’t do today.”

“no remus that’s so boring” sirius complained.

“this is me teaching you a lesson.”

as remus picked up the textbook, sirius flung himself into remus’ lap.

“teach me then, professor.”

[cactiem]

coming back to you // m.b

Pairing: Marcus Baker x OC

Requested: Nope

Summary: How does Victoria Lexington know Marcus Baker?

GIF Not Mine

Everyone knows everything about everyone in Welsbury. That’s what is part of the charm. Deep in the roots of the picture-perfect town are secrets and lies, feeding its residents. Maybe that’s what brought Georgia to this quaint town. She was intrigued by the flawless front the town presented, a place where nothing could go wrong. It did go wrong though. One fateful summer afternoon, Caroline Lexington was found dead in her home leaving a giant hole in the Lexington home and one in the town she put all her a time and effort in to.

No one had heard from Victoria Lexington after her mom’s funeral. She just disappeared off the face of the planet without telling anyone. Her classmates just thought that she moved away or something after the traumatic year she had but the stares and whispers said otherwise. Her hair was straight, and lips painted a deep red, hips swinging as she walked down the hallway with everyone’s eyes on her. Nothing had changed. It was like the whole summer didn’t exist.

“Who’s that?” Ginny asked, intrigued by the presence Victoria had.

“That is Victoria Lexington.” Abby said as if it was obvious.

Seeing Ginny’s puzzled look, Max couldn’t help but laugh a little. “You’re so cute.” Ginny just gave her a deadpanned look before she continued. “Her family like owns this town and her mom died at the start of the summer so we’re all waiting for a breakdown to happen.”

Ginny looked at the brunette taking in her appearance as the rest of MANG fell into conversation. She didn’t look like she just lost her mom. Her red lips were pursed as she rummaged through her locker, aware of all the attention that was on her and loving every bit of it. Victoria was well put together. Ginny knew everyone handled loss in their own way, but something didn’t sit well with her, she just couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

There was one thing that was getting on Victoria’s nerves as she went through her first day back at school and that was everyone asking her if she was okay. Was she okay? She didn’t know. Nothing was ever black and white. There were many levels to being okay and right now Victoria was okay enough. That didn’t stop her from plastering on a fake smile and thanking everyone for their forced condolences as if they cared. They didn’t. The only person who really cared about her was Marcus and she fucked that up. He saw at her lowest and Victoria couldn’t allow that. After all Lexington’s don’t cry in front of people.

She heard her mom’s voice clear as day, feel her claws digging into her jaw as she gripped it forcing Victoria to look up at her mom. “If you cry at any inconvenience then you’ll never stop crying. Crying is a weakness and Lexington’s aren’t weak.” Deep breath in. “You’ve gotten fat. Please don’t make me alter this dress so close to the gala.” Deep breath out. “This is all your fault. He’s dead because of you.” Deep breath in. “You stupid ungrateful bitch!” Deep breath out.

“Hey, its okay.” Victoria heard Marcus’s familiar voice and felt his hands clasp hers to stop her from hurting herself any further. She opened her eyes to a concerned brown pair looking back at her. He cupped her cheek, wiping away the tears she didn’t even know fell. Victoria quickly brushed him off, stepping away from him and wiping away her own tears.

“I’m fine.” She said, her smile forced.

“Tori, you don’t have to lie to me. I won’t judge.” Marcus slowly walked back over to her, making sure it was okay.

“I know I should feel sad today but I-I don’t. Does that make me a bad person?”

“There’s no wrong or right way on how you should be feeling.” Marcus said and Victoria such collapsed into his arms, gripping his lapels of his jacket as she cried, letting everything out.

At least when she got home, Victoria could count on some sense of normalcy. Her dad in his office doing work leaving the house to herself. That’s at least what she was hoping when she walked through the big oak front doors. Instead, a woman’s laugh could be heard from the kitchen along with her dad’s. Victoria slowly walked into the room, observing what was happening. “Hey, sweetie.” Her dad greeted, happier than he has been in a while. “This is Georgia from the mayor’s office. She’s helping with the business.”

“You must be Ginny’s mom, right?” Victoria said after a moment, looking the blonde women over.

“I am. Are you two friends?” She asked, her smile growing even bigger and her southern drawl thick.

“Great friends.” The brunette returned the smile, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl on the island before going upstairs, a plan hatching in her head.

Looking in the mirror, Victoria finished touching up her hair, her hand knocking over her drink all over Ginny who had just come over to wash her hands. “I am so sorry!” She gasped, feigning shock. “Here let me help you.” She quickly grabbed paper towels to try and help Ginny even though her efforts were pointless knowing the top will stain.

“Thanks.” She mumbled taking the towels to try and salvage her top.

Victoria leaned against the side, looking over Ginny with a sly grin. “If I was you I’d keep my hands to yourself.” Ginny gave the girl an incredulous look as she made her way to the door. “Same goes for your mom.”

Ginny was speechless, standing alone in the bathroom. She couldn’t believe what had happened, well she could but still. Her friends told her not to retaliate knowing that Victoria will make her life a living hell. What they didn’t know though was that Ginny also had a mean sting in her and never pulls her punches. She was a woman on a mission and made a beeline for Victoria after the final bell rang. That was why her friends followed her and Marcus hung around to see what was going to go.

“Can I help you?” She asked, already bored of the conversation that hadn’t started yet.

“You owe me a new top.” Ginny simply said, her arms crossed to help seem more intimidating.

“I told you it was an accident.” Victoria said innocently.

“Oh, please, you and I both know you did this on purpose.” She scoffed. “Why did you this?”

“Because, as classy as ever your mom has already got her claws into a new man, a recently widowed one at that.”

“You mean your dad, right?” Ginny asked before continuing not waiting for an answer because she already knew. “Because let’s not forget why he is a widow in the first place. You killed her, right? Your mom?”

“Ginny.” Victoria heard Marcus warn her, but she held her hand up.

“No, I wanna hear what she has to say.” She clenched her jaw trying to hide the tears that were threatening to fall.

“You killed your mom because you had enough of all the shit she put you through since your brother’s death which, was also your fault.” The silence that had fallen onto the group was suffocating. Everyone was waiting to see Victoria’s reaction, expecting her to breakdown or something. She didn’t though, the many years of hiding her emotions coming handy.

“You’ve what, been here five minutes and you think you know everything? Well, you don’t so how about you keep that pretty mouth of yours shut and run along unless you want me to destroy you and everything your mom built.” Victoria warned, walking away from the stunned crowd.

Her chest rose and her eyes burned from the tears she was holding back. Victoria ended up in the nearest bathroom, not caring if it was the boy’s or not. Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the sink hard, trying to calm herself down. “What Ginny said isn’t true, you know that, right?” Victoria should’ve known that Marcus would have followed her. She continued to ignore him, staring down at the floor. “Hey, look at me.” He said, gently lift her chin up so she could see him.

“Why are you being nice to me? I pushed you away, remember? I treated you like shit.” Victoria said.

“Because even though you did that I still find my way back to you just like you find your way back to me.” Marcus leaned down, his lips ghosting hers. The same electric feeling coming back from their first kiss.

A/N: if you have any requests for Marcus please send them in

Tag List: @mayaslifeinabox @princess-of-the-fandoms @live--aloud @les-bio-lie @ivvitm1109 @seninjakitey @dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt @genius2050 @tiannawashere

[jollyrancher87]

Punch Drunk

🐸Mando x Fem! Reader🐸

Because we need some serotonin Right NOW!! Please excuse any misspellings I rushed editied this.

Summary: Mando has had a little TOO much fun after capturing a very lucrative bounty.

Rating: soft M, just to be safe, it gets a lil saucy. 18+

Warnings: Fem! Reader, drunk Mando, mentions of saucy intentions, sweet talk, Soft! Mando, a little bit of an emotional drunken Mando, slight breeding kink maybe?

🐸🐸🐸

It had taken you hours, but you had finally gotten the Child settled into bed. He'd been an absolute terror today. Refuseing to eat his meals, he always preferred when Din fed him. He threw a fit when you tried to give him a bath, wailing and climbing up you when you tried to set him into the warm water, Din always knew how to get him in the tub with no problem. Tucking him into bed, forget it. He kept sneaking out whenever you turned your back. You knew why he was so fussy, Din had been gone for two days from the Crest. A bounty was offered to him by Greef Karga, far too lucrative to ignore, he said he'd be back as soon as possible. You knew better than to worry, but still, a twist always formed in your gut when you looked out the hatch and didn't see him makeing his way home on his speeder.

You settled down into the cot, the lights dimmed, a night of restless sleep ahead of you. Nothing but the soft breath of The Child, and the hum of the Crest to keep you company. You almost drifted off to sleep, but the hiss of the hatch opening startled you awake. Your heart jumped to your throat as you reached for the blaster you kept under the cot, ready to face the intruder despite how much you were shaking. The booted footsteps of two people echoed through the hull, men you could only assume, you were ready to scramble over to a hiding spot until you heard the distinct laugh of Karga.

Your shoulders dropped, you felt dizzy as your adrenaline fell, but the relief you felt out weighed any discomfort. You sank onto your knees on the cot, putting the blaster back under the cot.As they made their way into the hull, you suddenly remembered you had stripped down to your thin silken underdress. You wrapped your blanket around yourself to hide the sheer fabric from your guests eyes.

You let out a gasp as they rounded the corner. Greef was struggling to walk as he bared the beskar covered weight of Din. Greef had one of Dins arms braced across his shoulders while he held onto Dins waist. Din's helmet covered head lolling from side to side, his feet practically dragging, his body leaning to the side like he was about to fall over, incoherent mumbling coming through his modulater. Karga laughed and patted his back.

"You've arrived my friend." He noticed you in the bed,"oh, please excuse us, we didn't mean to wake you."

You scrambled from the cot, not careing about how sheer you shift was. You rushed to Din, your hands settling on his helmet, trying to keep his head up.

"Maker! What happened? Is he hurt?" You asked Karga frantically,"Din? Mando? Are you alright?"

"He's fine, he's fine." Karga assured, as he slowy helped Din stand on his own," we were just celebrating! The biggest bounty he's ever acquired, in the shortest time too!" He pat Dins shoulder, the sudden impact makeing Din lean into you. You let out a squeak of suprise from how heavy he was. Karga swore and apologized again as he helped Din stand up right.

"So...he's-"

"Drunk!" Karga laughed,"and he deserves it, that bounty can buy you both a new ship. Hell it could buy you a palace. He'd never have to work again if he wanted. Course we know that won't happen."

"How did he get drunk?" You asked,"He can't drink anything with his helmet on."

"Thats where you're wrong," Mando said, his voice slurred and slow, his head lolling to the side,"I can.....jus need a really....really...really long straw."

"Oh Din." You sigh.

Din suddenly gripped Kargas jacket pulling him up to him.

"L-look at her..." Din slurred through the modulator as he gazed at you," She's so...pretty." he says,"have you ever seen anyone so pretty?" Karga just laughed but was cut off when Din shook him, "Well HAVE YOU?" he snapped.

"No, can't say I have Din." Karga reassured, patting his hand,"You're a very lucky man."

You felt your face grow warm at the complement. You dipped your head and made your way to help take off Dins jetpack.

"I am lucky," he mummered," prettiest girl on the whole galaxy...on my ship...caring for my son." You heard a faint sniffle from him as you set the heavy pack on the ground.

"Its ok,Din." You say softly, placing your hand on his chest plate. He rested his leather clad hand over yours as he looked down at you."Thank you for bringing him back to me in one piece," you said to Karga,"I can take it from here."

Karag nodded and said his good bye, slapping Din on the back before leaving, the hatch shutting with a loud thud.

You looked up to Din, his gaze burning through his visor down to you as he slightly wobbled. Suddenly he lunged forward, his helmet smacked against your face, making it sting. His hands gripping your ass , kneeding it harshly.

"Ow! Din!," you cried, he rubbed his helmet against your face as you gripped his armored shoulders,"what are you doing?" You half laughed.

"Kissing you." He mumbled,"I just wanna kiss you."

You laughed,"Din-"

"Im gonn buy you all the jewels-"

"You know I dont need those-"

"Furs-"

"Din," you coo, carressing his helmet.

"A home."

"That I'd love," you sigh wrapping your arms around his neck as he rests his helmet against your shoulder,"you and me and the Child, in a cozy little home-"

"Gonna fill it with warriors," he mumbled,"a new one..... every year."

You laughed,"thats a lot of babies, Din."

"And I wanna give them to you."

"Alright, you need to sleep." You grin as you try to nudge him off you.

He takes a deep breath and stands up straight.

"I'm going to kiss you." He declared as he wobbled.

"Oh? Where?" You tease as you tried to pull him towards the cot.

"Right here, right now!" He said as if it were a threat.

"No, where do you want to kiss me, Din?"

He raised his hand and tapped his gloves finger against your forehead.

"Here..." he gently gave your cheek a tap,"Here..." he ran his thumb over your lips, "Here." He nearly growled, his chest risieng and falling as his breath got heavier.

He ran his finger over your chin, down your neck,"Here," he sighed, continuing down your chest, makeing his way between your breasts,"Here. Def...definitely here." He shuddered, "I want to kiss you here so bad." He groaned, and ran his large hand smoothly down your stomach,"here." his voice a near shudder as he reached down to your core,"but this...I want to kiss this. I'll take off all my armor, and forsake the Creed, just for the chance to kiss you here."

You took his hand from between your thighs and placed it onto your chest.

"You would?" You smile.

"What?" He snapped,"dont believe me?" He challenged.

You only smiled wider as he ripped his hand away from you.

"I'll do it!"he threatened, you crossed your arms over your chest, brow raised in a challenge. He grabbed his helmet and lifted it off, spiking it onto the soft cot."See! I did it!"

His hair was as unkempt as ever, his deep brown eyes wide and bloodshot as he looked down at you. You stepped forward, and carresed his stubble and scared covered cheeks, and kissed him. Your lips gentle against his as you softly peppered his lips and cheeks with kisses. He was frozen against you, his arms limp at his sides.

"Oh Maker, I just broke the Creed-" he whispered.

You nuzzled against his cheek, running your finger down the bridge of his sharp nose.

"Din...we made our Riduurok four months ago."you whispered. He stumbled back his eyes wide, as he swallowed hard.

"You, you mean...you're my...my..."

"Wow, Din, you are drunk. You need to get into bed." You ordered as you nudged him to the cot making him sit. His mouth hung open as you took off his armor and weapons, genlty setting them to the side.

"You married me?" He nearly wimpered, you placed a kiss to the top of his head.

"Yes Din." You said gently as you took his armor, various weapons and helmet and placed it on a nearby table.

"Really?" He sniffed, you looked back and saw him on the verge of tears.

"Oh, Din," you sigh as you stand between his spread legs, pulling his head to your stomach as you ran your hand through his unkempt hair"yes, really."

"You married me?" He asked as he buried his face into you, his voice muffled,"you're my Riddur?"

You laugh softly," yes, kar'ta."

He sniffed loudly before looking up at you, his eyes brimming with tears. "Really? Like, really really?"

You leaned down and nuzzled his face,"your the only man I'd ever marry my brave, handsome, fiercesome, warrior." You kissed him again.

He stood suddenly, and wiped away a stray tear that slid down his face before a stern look came over him. He cleared his throat.

"I need to give you warriors."

"Cyar-"

He ripped off one of his gloves and tried to undo his flight suit while moving to kneel on the bed,"right now!"

"Baby-"

"Jus- jus lay down, I'll do all the work,"He pulled you down on to the bed as you laughed at his clumsy attempt to disrobe,one arm and half his torso out of his suit.

"Gotta do my duty, fill your belly, with...with my..."he grumbled as he struggled to undo his belt,"seed, DAMN THIS THING!"

You grabbed his hands to stop him, "Din, you've already filled my belly with a warrior, remember, we made our baby after we said the vows."

He slumped down, and blinked, as he sat stunned. You took advantage of his state and nudged him till he layed flat on his back. His eyes staring up at you. He reached up and carresed you're cheek.

"I love you, Mesh'la." He said.

"I know." You sighed,"I love you too my feirce warrior."

"I hope our baby looks like you." He says as you try to roll him onto his side.

"I hope our baby is as brave as you."

"No. You're the brave one," he mumbled into his pillow,"the pretty one, the strong one, with an ass that brings me to ruin."

You had to cover your mouth to keep from busting out laughing. "Go to sleep darling."

"But I wanna look at you." His voice muffled from the pillow.

"You can look at me all you want tomorrow."

"But I wanna look at you now!" He whined.

You sighed and rolled him over to his other side until you were met with his drunk grinning face.

"You're so pretty." He slurred, his still gloved hands grabbing your hip,"c'mere." He urged you down.

You nestled down next to him, his eyes slowly shutting, his hand rubbing your side.

"Look at you," he slurred,"so sweet, so soft...so...so beautiful." His brows furrowd suddenly,"wait..I can't see you! Why can't I see you!?"

"Din open your eyes."

His eyes snapped open, a slap happy grin spreading across his face, "Oh Maker, you're so clever," His hand left your side and landed on your cheek a little harsher than he intended,"how did I find you?"

"I was a bounty remember?"

He was quiet for a moment,"oh yeah....I'm so glad you're a criminal."

"Can you go to sleep for me Din?"

"Can I use your tits as a pillow?"

Before you could respond he was already pushing you onto your back, his face buried into your chest. You sighed and were about to push him off of you but the sound of him snoring stopped you. He was asleep, you were ready to try to drift off into uncomfortable sleep when you heard a coo by your side.

Looking down you were met with the wide sleepy eyes of The Child standing by the bed, his ears perked up with a tiny smile on his face. He climbed up onto the bed and over you, nestling in the small space between you and Din, his little face nuzlleing into your belly.

You groaned, it was going to be a long night.

Thank you for reading xoxo

[sulphuryasecretcloset]

His children

(How did Davarax end up with his troubled children?)

“Davarax. A word.”

Slightly surprised, Davarax glances over as Mardsk walks towards him. The guy is one of the Teachers, one who rarely spoke to the Fighting Corps. Sure, Davarax had been a Teacher once too but that was years ago and most just consider him a Fighter now.

“What can I help you with, ner vod?” Davarax asks, curious.

Mardsk comes to a halt in front of him, seems to struggle for words and gives a big sigh before he just jumps into it. “Paz Vizla.”

Davarax frowns. The heir to the Vizla clan, he's seen the young boy around and knows he will one day be a valuable member of the Fighting Corps, judging by his size and love for battle. “What about him?”

“He's a problem.” Mardsk blurts out. “The boy is a bully. He keeps picking on my Spring Class, beats them up and terrifies them.”

Davarax' frown deepens and he crosses his arms thoughtfully. “Wait. Your Spring Class? Aren't they, what, three or four years older than him?”

“Yeah, so?” Mardsk replies with a slight edge to his voice. “The boy is a bully nonetheless. He's disruptive and constantly challenging my authority, thinking he's above the rules because he's a Vizla.”

“And what do you want me to do about it?” Davarax does not like where this is going.

“You train him.” Mardsk plows on. “You have experience with difficult kids and you know she would approve of us keeping the Vizla clan quiet.”

Not liking Mardsk using his connection to her one bit, Davarax still doesn't reject the request right away. He's always had a weakness for the outcasts. “Let me talk to him...”

And true to his word, later that day, Davarax hunts down the kid. He finds him sitting in one of the study rooms, reading on one of the datapads there.

Paz Vizla is big, Davarax has no trouble seeing how he can take on and defeat children years older than himself, but there is nothing menacing about the young boy right now. He is devouring the information on the datapad, which a quick peek reveals to be Mandalorian history. Interesting.

“Hey.” Davarax gets his attention. “You know who I am?”

Paz looks up at him, slightly curious but completely self-assured. “Yeah. You're Davarax. You're-”

Davarax nods. “That's me. Pleased to meet you, Paz Vizla.”

Now Paz frowns and he sits up a little straighter. “What do you want?” There is a challenge in his words as well as in the insolent stare. He is his father's son, alright.

“I wanted to meet you.” Davarax sits on the desk next to him. “Because they want me to train you.”

“Figures.” Paz scoffs with obvious contempt. “Mardsk is a coward.”

Amused, Davarax tilts his head and scans the kid's body language. It's a wonderful mess of arrogance and insecurity. He's angry, but also clearly hurt by Mardsk's action. Not completely corrupted by his father, then. Good. “He just knows when he's out of his league. That's not a bad thing, ad'ika. It can save your life outside the Covert.” Davarax sees the youngster wobbling between the lingering hurt and the inferred compliment. “So, would you be okay with that? Me training you?”

Paz looks at him, scans him in return and leans back in his chair. “Why would you want to do that? You're on the Fighting Corps. You don't do teacher stuff anymore.”

Davarax shrugs. “I might make an exception for you.”

“For me? Why? Because I'm a Vizla?” Paz drawls, suspicious.

“No.” Davarax says. “Because I think you have a lot of potential and you will do great things for the Covert. I also think that maybe you need someone who understands you a little better to help that happen.”

Paz shifts uneasily on his chair, his gaze flickers and ruins his pretend arrogance. He swallows and makes himself meet Davarax' gaze. “And that's you?”

“That's me.”

“And who is to say you won't just hand me off to some other teacher?”

Davarax shakes his head. “I won't do that.” His words are calm and secure, no doubt whatsoever.

Paz considers it, then turns back to the datapad and shrugs. “Fine. Sure. Whatever.”

And just like that, Davarax had the first of what would be known as the Fearsome Four.

It takes a long time for him to gain Paz' trust and respect, but with a calm and steady approach, not responding to Paz' tantrums but rather making him use his words; the boy's energy is eventually channeled where it is meant to go.

It doesn't mean Paz stops getting into fights, not by a long shot, but now he at least goes after the ones capable of defending themselves and guilty of some kind of offense, and not just some random victim that crosses Paz' path.

Then comes the morning when Davarax hears a knock on the door to his quarters, opens it and finds another teacher standing there with a tight grip on a tiny, skinny boy's neck.

The boy stares sullenly at the floor, curly hair poking up at all angles, the neckline of his shirt pulled a little to the side and showing a prominent collarbone due to his skinniness. His tiny hands are clenched into tight fists. That is how Davarax meets Barthor.

Unlike Paz, Barthor doesn't show much emotion at being 'handed off' to a new teacher, but those eyes speak volumes. He is furious and filled with spite. Being small and skinny in a society that values strength and fighting abilities can't be easy, but he's been getting back at them in inventive and sometimes fire hazardous ways. Davarax could smell the stench of singed hair through his air filter when the teacher had appeared on his doorstep with the little culprit.

Barthor had pulled one stunt after another,a proper troublemaker, but what Davarax admires is the fact that they were never able to prove it was him. Not once. That speaks of intelligence. So he agrees to train him as well.

Where Paz uses anger and brute strength to intimidate, Barthor immediately tries to sneak his way into Davarax' brain and heart, mapping Davarax' mind to manipulate him while trying to act small and helpless to appeal to his protective instinct. Sneaky little thing. He's going to go far in life.

It turns out that once Barthor realizes that Davarax doesn't fall for his tricks, but treats him with respect and actually talks to him and not over him, the little one thaws and becomes his shadow.

It's kind of cute, really.

Paz isn't pleased at first, but decides the runt isn't a threat or a challenge so he ends up mostly ignoring Barthor, who keeps a wary distance in return. They focus on Davarax, not each other.

“Please...” A third teacher pleads some time later. He holds out his arm and pulls up the fabric and shows the painful mark there. “She bit me! I pulled her off a kid she was pummeling and she bit me. She held on for so long I considered prying her jaws open with a stick!” The man lowers his arm and shakes his head. “You gotta help me, Dav. Please!”

Now this one Davarax asks for some time to consider. He has heard a lot about Raga Saxon, have seen her in action, and she might be the one child he's not entirely sure he can help. He has no idea how to deal with that kind of volatile temper. There is fearless and then there is reckless.

Somehow Paz finds out that Raga's teacher has asked to move her to Davarax and the boy instantly starts to hassle him to say yes.

“She's awesome. She really is! You gotta see her fight.” Paz pleads, walking next to Davarax.

“I have seen that very thing. That is what worries me.” Davarax mutters. “There is no discipline to her. She's basically feral, Paz.”

“I know!” Paz' grin is the brightest Davarax has even seen on the boy. “As I said, she's awesome. You got to let her join us. I'll look after her, I promise. You won't even notice she's there. Please?”

Paz rarely asks for anything so Davarax promises him he'll think about it. And the next day, he stays hidden and watches Raga. He sees the energy crackling under her skin, the wild hair and her complete lack of fear. It's the kind of personality that can ruin a mission and get other Mandalorians killed, but then he sees her with Paz and observes, to his surprise, the other side to her. She 'is' capable of team work, she can be still and patient, and for some weird reason it seems like Paz is the one who brings that out in her.

Fine. She deserves a chance as well. She's a tough little fighter, like a Mandalorian should be. They just need to work on her mean streak.

Bringing Raga in changes the dynamics as she instantly goes after Barthor, like a predator sensing prey. Davarax hopes that Paz will put an end to it, but no such luck. The bigger boy just chews on his snacks and watches with lazy amusement. Davarax is on the verge of interfering when Barthor strikes back.

Raga's shrieks of fury echoes through the hallways, Barthor runs for his life, while Paz chews his snacks with lazy amusement, and Davarax struggles not to laugh. Yeah, Barthor is going to be fine. He doesn't need help.

It is almost a year later when he opens a hatch and finds a frightened boy staring up at him. His name is Din.

Davarax reaches out a hand, Din takes it.

When the request comes if Davarax can train Din too, there is a lack of teachers and Din is severely affected by the trauma he's been through, Davarax doesn't hesitate. He found the boy, he feels responsible for him.

And against all odds, Din is the glue that makes them all stick together.

Paz' protective instinct is triggered hard, Raga senses Paz' approval and actually behaves for long enough to realize she likes Din, and Barthor is so happy to no longer be the lone one against the other two that he reaches out a hand in friendship as well. And Din finds safety from his nightmares in their presence.

It shouldn't work. Not at all. But it does.

He even finds them, more than once, sleeping in a pile together.

And as they learn, as they grow, they keep amazing him and there's not a single day that goes by where he doesn't feel proud of them. They are difficult, yes, complicated, definitely, but they are good students and will do good things for the Covert, he knows this.

The others start referring to them as the Fearsome Four, but Davarax calls them his children and he knows in his heart that he will love them until the day he dies.

[donteattheappleshook]

There is a Pirate in the Dungeon

Summary: 

There is a pirate in the dungeon. All the serving girls are too afraid to go down the steps and bring him his meal. All but one.

This fic is based on a beautiful little story from The Starless Sea that just screamed of Captain Swan so strongly that I couldn't resist.

***

Happy Birthday to @elizabeethan​  who supported this fic and is just an all around great friend and writer <3

Thanks to @kmomof4​ and @the-darkdragonfly​ for looking this over!

***

There is a pirate in the dungeon. All of the servants are in a flurry over it, gossip filling the halls of the Evil Queen’s palace. They say it’s him. Him who? You know, him, with the hook. The girl pays little mind to it. There is always someone in the dungeon. It doesn’t take much to upset the queen. One foot out of place, one word out of turn. 

There are always people in the dungeon. Some are former servants, some former friends, some simply people who had the misfortune of crossing her path on a bad day. In fact, this pirate may be one of the few - if not the only - prisoner being held for any real crime. But the girl keeps her head down and goes about her work. No need to get involved. No need to stand out. 

***

The pirate sits in the dungeon. He finds himself bored. It’s a strange emotion to have when facing down one’s inevitable end, but it’s the emotion he feels all the same. He wonders when Death will come. He wonders if this time he will stay, if they’ll meet like old friends, if Death will smile - not in self satisfaction, but in fondness for this game they’ve played so long. It’s only fair. He’s slipped through Death’s fingers so many times, it was bound to be his turn sooner or later. 

A key hangs on the wall, six feet away from his cell, a tease of freedom just out of reach. He appreciates the metaphor. The guard is old, and drunk, and asleep most of the time. In a past life, the pirate may have attempted escape, may have hatched some elaborate ruse to win back his liberty. But he is old now - though he does not look it - and he is tired. And so he sits in his cell, bored, and waiting for death. 

***

The girl does her best to ignore the chatter, but it follows her everywhere. She hears it in the kitchen, ears catching the whisper of a name, or perhaps a title. She hears it in the hallways, a guess at what he’d done to earn his date with the gallows. She hears it in the small bedroom that she shares with another girl, a rumor of his terrifying reputation, of a man more monster than human. But she isn’t afraid. There’s no such thing as monsters. 

***

On the first night of his captivity, a girl comes into the dungeon carrying a tray of food and water. The pirate makes the mistake of standing too close to the bars, of looking over perhaps a tad too suspiciously, too threateningly, and the girl gasps, dropping the plate and running from the dungeon in fear. The guard wakes, and shrugs, and the pirate goes hungry. 

On the second night there is a new serving girl. She makes it halfway across the room before the candlelight gleams off his hook and she stumbles. Half the food and water spill from her hands before she sets it on the floor far enough from the bars that he needs to remove his hook and use it to pull the tray close enough to have what’s left. 

The third night no girl comes at all, though he hears her retreating footsteps at the top of the stairs. By the fourth night, the pirate has resigned himself to dying of starvation. It’s not quite the death he’d always pictured for himself, but he supposes it’s as fitting as any other. 

The guard is asleep again when the girl comes down the stairs on the fifth night, this one also new and more striking than any of the other servants who have fled from him. More striking than most women he’s ever seen and suddenly something that had started to go out in the pirate’s heart begins to stir. 

There’s a wariness about her, a hesitation as she approaches, but there is no fear, and it surprises him. As she approaches the bars, she meets his eyes and he watches in wonder as the doubt melts from her features, making way for confusion, relief, and even, he thinks, disappointment. It makes him laugh and he nearly startles at the sound of his own voice after so many days of silence. The girl, however, does not startle. 

She sets the tray in front of him and he thanks her. That does startle her. He wonders briefly if it’s at seeing manners in a prisoner or from having become accustomed to never being thanked for her work at all. 

The girl studies him, gaze falling over his face and his greatcoat, settling finally on his hook before finding their way back to his eyes. He wonders what she finds there, what she may have been looking for. He takes the chance to study her himself, her long golden hair and bright eyes, the rags she wears unable to disguise a certain dignity with which she carries herself.

He holds her gaze for a long moment, neither compelled to speak as they take each other in and draw their conclusions. Soon, however, his stomach cries for him to eat the bread which she’s brought him and he’s too tired and too hungry to deny it. But as he takes note of the thinness of her cheeks and the smudges below her eyes he feels a certain obligation towards her, a long forgotten sort of duty.

The pirate tears the bread in two and holds one half out through the bars. The surprise returns to her face and he wonders at the fact that it’s kindness that seems to scare her, rather than danger. She watches him, closely, carefully, more curiously than she has yet, and he’s stunned when an older - younger - version of the pirate makes himself known, one he hasn’t seen in years, but that he hopes is still worthy of this girl’s scrutiny, perhaps even of her trust. 

She takes the bread from his hand and neither miss the way his fingers brush across her wrist as she pulls back. But she doesn’t recoil. She doesn’t run. 

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?” the pirate asks, trying to remember the last time his presence wasn’t met with fear or dread. 

She considers him a moment before answering, her voice low so as not to wake the guard. “I’ve met scarier men than you,” she says, and he believes her. 

“I’m sorry,” he tells her, because he is, and because he doesn’t know what else to say. He himself has met few scarier men. 

The girl does not stay to eat her bread. The guard begins to stir and she hurries out of the room before he can ask her name. The pirate cannot chase after her. He would like to, but the bars pose a certain problem. When the guard wakes he finds the pirate with his forehead pressed softly to the iron rods of his prison, a soft, faraway look in his eyes. He does not, the guard notes, look at all like a pirate anymore. 

***

The girl walks swiftly down winding steps that lead from the kitchen, which is on the second floor of the palace, deep underground to the damp, carved out tunnels that serve as a dungeon. She doesn’t pay attention to the strange looks she receives from the other serving girls, or the judgemental ones she receives from the men. She is the first to make this trip twice since the pirate’s arrival and it has earned her the distrust of her coworkers. 

“Aren’t you afraid of him? Haven’t you heard what he’s done?”

“He’s behind bars,” she answers simply whenever this question is posed. But she knows that the bars are irrelevant. She does not fear the pirate. 

She is more concerned with the second question, that of what he has done. The girl, who grew up near the palace and was orphaned near the palace and now works in the palace, has never done anything, not truly, not anything worthwhile or worth remembering. 

She wonders how many places outside this palace the pirate has seen. She wonders how many places outside this kingdom he has visited, or perhaps even, outside this realm. She decides that she’ll ask him to tell her about them. The worst he can say is “no” and then her life will be no different than it was when she woke up this morning. She thinks however that if he says “yes”, it could be a little bit better. 

When the pirate sees her coming down the stairs he looks surprised, and then relieved, and then pleased. A small smile pullis at the corner of his lips and she feels it makes him look even less the terrifying monster those upstairs believe him to be. He looks young, his eyes which yesterday had betrayed an ancientness of one who has lived many lives, perhaps, more lives than they’d have liked, are now bright and anxious like a boy’s. 

The guard is predictably asleep and the girl makes her way to the bars where the pirate waits and hands him his food. He takes it with a thank you, as he had yesterday, and while she’d expected it, she was still not prepared for it and it catches her off guard, her cheeks flushing. Then her cheeks flush at her embarrassment over her cheeks flushing in the first place. 

He is handsome, dark hair and dark lashes framing blue eyes and a soft smile contrasted by a strong jaw. But she has seen handsome men before and paid them little mind. She wonders what it is that is different about this one. Whatever the difference, it makes her lose her nerve, and with no other reason to be here, and no question bold enough to ask, she turns to take her leave. 

“Wait,” the pirate says, and the girl stops, glancing back. “Will you tell me your name?” he asks. When she does not answer, he speaks again. “If I’m to see you again, I’d like to be able to thank you properly for your service. If I’m not, then I’d like a name to associate with the memory of you.” 

The girl is grateful for the darkness in the dungeon, and the distance that hides her stricken expression. “Emma,” she tells him, and he smiles at her in the same youthful way he had before. She offers a clumsy curtsy, and leaves. 

When she returns the following night, the girl has slipped whatever extra treats she could find onto the tray. A roll of bread with honey stolen off a table while serving breakfast, meat leftover from the servant’s dinner, and a small, baked good that the queen had sent back. She imagines the pirate must be hungry. She is only sent to bring him food once a day and there are no other servants making trips to the dungeon.

He looks relieved, and then happy to see her. And then something crosses his expression that she doesn’t recognize. Likely, because no one has ever looked at her like that. She finds that she likes it. She hands him the tray, watching a little too eagerly as he notices the contents. He smiles, one eyebrow jumping up, the pull of his lips lopsided, and it spreads warmth through her belly. 

“Thank you,” he says, adding “Emma” to the end. It’s the first time he’s said her name, and Emma is surprised at how much she likes hearing him say it. 

The guard is asleep, and she imagines he will be for a while, his snores resonating annoyingly through the room. She wonders if the pirate gets much sleep. She imagines it would be hard to sleep with the threat of impending death looming over her. But she imagines it would be even harder to sleep with the guards snores echoing in her ears. Either way, the guard seems unlikely to wake, so she chances stealing a little more time in the pirate’s company. 

He watches her as she makes her decision, and when he offers up some of his meal again to share, she accepts it. She feels guilty, taking his food, but it allows her the excuse to step closer to the bars and to brush her fingers carefully against his as they had last night. 

When their hands have been touching as long as they reasonably can while passing food, perhaps even a little too long at that, the pirate pulls his arm back through the bars. She notices the hook on which he balances the tray. He notices her noticing it, but says nothing. 

After a moment, he sits on the floor, resting the tray against his knee as he picks at it. While he doesn’t ask her to stay, the invitation is clear in both how close he sits to the mouth of his cell and in the way he watches her, waiting. Feeling bold, Emma sits down beside him, shoulders near close enough to touch, were it not for the bars between them. They sit silently, letting the guard’s snores fill the quiet that would be filled by their words. After a long time, Emma speaks. 

“They say you’re a captain,” she tells him, wondering if any of the gossip is true. 

“Aye, that I am,” he answers. “Or… was,” he corrects, acknowledging his current predicament. Can a captain be a captain without a ship? She takes a breath before speaking again. 

“They say you’re a pirate.” 

He smiles, mirthful, his eyebrow ticking up again. “Aye,” he says, “that too.”  Emma only nods and it seems to surprise him. She wonders if he was expecting shock, or fear, or perhaps even fascination. She gives him none of it. 

“Have you been a pirate long?” she asks then, and this time his smile is melancholy as he nods.

“Yes. Too long.” 

Emma draws her knees up, holding them in her arms as she gazes forlornly at the floor. “I can’t imagine you could ever tire of being a pirate. Not when there are so many places to see.” When she says it, she’s thinking of the freedom he must have had, the chance to go wherever he pleased whenever he pleased. But then she feels guilty, remembering where he is now. 

“I suppose you’re right,” he agrees, offering her an accepting nod. 

“And have you?” she asks, breath held in her lungs until he answers. 

“Have I what, love?”

“Been many places.” 

“Aye. More than you could imagine.” She can imagine quite a bit, but she supposes he’s probably right. 

“You must have many stories,” she suggests, and he smiles at her the same way he had when she’d asked him about being a pirate. 

“As many stories as there were places,” he promises. 

“Will you tell me some of them?” She looks at him when she asks and is met with eyes that are both old and young all at once. 

Before he can answer the guard starts to stir and she jumps to her feet. The pirate follows suit, hand reaching out to catch at the sleeve of her dress before she can leave. She turns to him and is shocked at the look in his eyes, she can’t quite place this one either, but if she had to name it, she’d call it... hope. 

“I will,” he promises. “If you come back tomorrow. And I’ll tell you more if you come back the following night, and more after that.” 

Emma meets his eyes and knows he isn’t lying. And the promise of hearing his stories is nearly as powerful as the promise of being able to sit next to him in the dungeon again, with their shoulders just close enough to touch, if not for the bars. She agrees. 

***

When Emma returns the following night, there is more food on his tray. The pirate imagines she must have stolen or kept most of it, sharing her own dinner with him. So it feels only right to share some of his own meal with her. 

He’d tried to hide his excitement at seeing her come down the stairs, though he’s sure it was written all over his face. And she’s quite perceptive, he’s noticed. It feels strange, to have something to look forward to. He never imagined being excited for or anticipating anything while in this dungeon, apart from perhaps death. He prefers it this way. 

“So what would you like to hear?” he asks after he has touched her hand and sat next to her on the dirty floor of his cell. She contemplates his question for a while, putting serious weight to her decision and he smiles. It’s been a long time since someone was so interested in learning anything about him.

“How did you become a pirate?” she asks finally, and his heart settles like a lead weight in his chest. It must show on his face because she begins to apologize. He stops her. He had not expected to have to share such a painful story so quickly, but he tells her anyway. He tells her of his childhood, uncertain why he starts so far back but the more he continues the more he feels it suits the story. 

He tells her of his upbringing on Silver’s ship, of his time in the Navy, of his brother, of everything he was and everything he himself wished to be. He tells her of his brother’s death and her eyes fill with tears, the kind that speak of understanding rather than sympathy. He’d learned long ago to spot the difference, to pick a kindred spirit out of a crowd. Tonight, he picks a twin soul out of a dungeon. 

When he has finished his story he waits for her appraisal, wonders if he did it justice. He embellished in parts, if only to make himself more dashing or the dangers greater. He could read on her face that she knew what he was doing and it only made him smile, even as she rolled her eyes. That made him do it more. 

“I’m sorry,” she says, he imagines in much the same way he had said to her that first night, and he knows then that they understand each other, perhaps in a way nobody has ever understood him before, not really. 

The guard is still asleep but he doubts they have much time left. Nevertheless he offers her another story, if only to keep her here a little longer, to watch her eyes light up with wonder and excitement as he spins his tales. Emma considers again, as carefully as she had the first time. 

“Will you tell me your name?” she asks. 

He smiles. “Killian.” 

***

Killian tells her of Neverland, of evil little boys and fairies and mermaids. He tells her of a land covered in snow, of one where sand reaches as far as the eye can see. He tells her of krakens and monsters and heroes and damsels, of kings and knights and pirate queens over the course of the following nights, each tale more fantastical than the last. But he never lies. She knows he doesn’t. He may embellish but his stories are true, and that makes them all the more unbelievable. She begins to pity the guard, who sleeps through such magical stories, but does not begrudge the privacy it allows them. 

His fingers tangle in her hair through the bars, as they do every night, playing with each stand before letting it slip delicately between his rings. He likes her hair and she likes that he likes it. He’d made a comment when she asked, about pirates being drawn to gold. She’d rolled her eyes and he’d laughed. 

“What tale would you like to hear tonight?” Killian asks, smiling that smile which always makes her stomach warm and her cheeks flush. 

She thinks carefully, as she does every night, wanting to ask the right kind of question to hear the right kind of story. With every tale he reveals more about himself, whether intentionally or not. She knows he is brave but also protective, charming, but also solitary. Dangerous, but kind. He’s seen the whole world, known countless people, but he carries a loneliness that breaks her heart in a way her own never could. 

There is a story she wants to know, one that she’s held off on asking. In part because it feels rude, because she is unaware of the rules around asking such things. But also, because she imagines this is the tale that everyone asks him, and she doesn’t want to be everybody. She hopes she can ask and still be Emma to him. 

“Will you tell me how you lost your hand?” she asks finally and his fingers still in her hair. She fears she’s crossed a line, but when she turns to face him he’s watching her with that same expression he had when he told her the first story. She knows that this will not be a fanciful tale. 

Killian nods and his fingers return their attention to her hair, his eyes fixated as he begins to speak. He tells her of a woman, of a great love and a cruel man. Of adventures and romance and the promise of happily ever after struck down by one monster’s hatred. His eyes water and she wants to ask him to stop, to beg him not to continue if it pains him so much to speak of it, even after all these years. But he finishes his story. Nothing embellished, nothing softened. And when he is finished she’s the one with tears in her eyes. 

He does not look at her, preferring to watch the strands of her hair slip through his fingers as he brushes it over her shoulder and back again. She wonders if he’s awaiting her judgement, disgust or forgiveness. Neither are fitting. There is only empathy, and anger, and a feeling she has not felt before but is certain of regardless - love. 

She reaches through the bars, takes his hook which rests in his lap in her hand and turns so that she can face him. He looks up in surprise as the movement steals the strands from his fingers, and then in greater surprise when she brings his hook to her lips before holding it to her chest, hoping he can read what she cannot say. 

He does. 

***

The following night is the last night. Killian knows this and while he’d always thought he’d leave this world with no regrets, he is left with one. He regrets not meeting her sooner, regrets time, not having enough of it, having wasted too much of it. For the first time in a century he fears death, resents it, because death will steal her from him and he is not ready to let go. But the gallows await him in the morning. 

The guard is, shockingly, awake when Emma arrives, and he flatters himself that the redness around her eyes is because she knows as well, because she will miss him as well. His heart tightens, loathing that their last night will be cut short, impeded by the presence of the guard who will prevent her from staying. But he should have known to expect more of her. 

Emma smiles at the guard, offering him something from the pitcher she carries on the tray. She imagines from his enthusiasm that it is wine or rum and he supposes he was to be offered a last drink on his last night. The guard drinks greedily and Emma continues to smile that lovely smile until he suddenly falls against the table, face colliding painfully with the wood. Killian looks at her in surprise as she comes to meet him. She shrugs.

“He’s not dead,” she dismisses and he smiles, proud and impressed. 

“Perhaps there’s a little pirate in you yet, love.” 

She gives him his food and they share it as they always do, sitting side by side yet too far apart to truly be together. Killian is aware of the metaphor here as well, though he appreciates it less than the keys on the wall. 

Tonight, perhaps because it is their last night, perhaps because she is feeling the finality of it, the grief for all that could have been and what little was, Emma slides her fingers through the bars and takes his hand, letting her fingers slide along and play with his own and his rings as he had her hair. His whole body warms from his hand, rolling through him like a wave, like the sea, like magic. 

“I thought, perhaps,” he starts but then hesitates, fingers tightening against hers. “I thought you might tell me a story,” he suggests. She watches him, eyes still red, thumb stroking along the back of his hand. “I’d quite like to know you before I die,” he admits, his voice more strained than he’d like. He realises it's not death he fears, but never seeing her again, never again touching her hair or holding her hand, never having so much as kissed her. He brings their hands to his lips and kisses her knuckles. It’s a poor substitute, but it’s something. 

She nods, eyes watery and lip caught between her teeth. She tells him of her life, of being born near the palace, of losing her parents young, of being left by them, sent to live in the castle before she even had a chance to know them, of having looked for them but only having been met with dead ends and disappointed hopes. 

She speaks of growing up in the castle, of the queen’s temper and the constant fear and he can see where her strength comes from, though he believes she may have been born with it. She tells him of a man that she believed she loved, one who left when things became too much. All her stories speak of abandonment, of loneliness and perseverance and hope, despite it all, hope. 

When it’s nearly dawn she asks if she can have one final story and he cannot deny her anything so he says yes. She asks him what he did to be imprisoned by the queen. He laughs, because there is nothing else to do. He is not a good man, he has not believed himself to be one for a long time. But he likes to think that his last deed, the one that sent him to the gallows, was. That it was one that Liam could be proud of, and Milah, and Emma. 

“I refused to kill someone for her.” Emma’s eyes widen. Clearly, this was not what she’d expected. “The Queen learned that someone in her castle had been placed there by the former king and queen, the ones she overthrew so many years ago, and that she, a girl - a daughter - had the power to destroy her. She wished me to find and kill the girl for her, as she cannot. I refused. I am many things, but a killer of innocent women, I am not.”

The booming of a drum brings his story to a certain, poetic end. It is followed by another and it is only a moment before they recognize them for what they are. The gallows await. Emma turns to him, fingers tightening against his until her knuckles are white, eyes wild. 

“No,” she says with all the strength and stubbornness he’s grown to love in her. 

“Emma,” he starts, not wanting their last moments to be anger and pain and sadness. But she pulls away, standing and staring at him for what feels like an eternity as she makes up her mind. She lunges for the keys, fingers fumbling as she tries to find the right one, to fit it in the lock. “Emma,” he tries to stop her. “Go,” he warns, fearing what fate awaits her if they catch her trying to help him escape. But she doesn’t listen. He did not expect she would. 

When she finds the key the gate is wrenched open and she stands in the open doorway watching him with frantic, panicked eyes. He is frozen in place, unable to move, shaken by the risk she is taking. For him. She frowns at him then, confusion and just enough disbelief and annoyance to make him want to laugh. 

“Run!” she commands, gesturing towards the stairs. He knows he could make it, he could run now and get out before the guards catch him. He’s gotten out of more dire situations before. But he can’t. She may save him from death but the result will be the same. Either way he will be without her. Being without her when he knows she is somewhere he cannot reach is far worse.  

“What are you waiting for?” Emma demands, voice raising. “Get ou-” 

He strides forward, takes her face in his hand and kisses her. He kisses her as though this may be the last time, because he fears it will be, regardless of whether they catch him or not. But once he’s kissed her he can’t let her go. 

He’s held the whole of his world in his hand and against his lips and he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to let her go. He’s lived a very long time, and been to a great many places, but nothing has felt quite like this. Nothing has felt so much like home. 

“Come with me,” he pleads, knowing that if she says no he’ll wait here for them to come for him, because it won’t matter, not without her. 

The guards burst in, catching them with their faces still only inches apart and it takes them a moment, registering their own shock before they lunge at them, at him. Emma screams and suddenly there is a burst of white light, a light so bright that he has to shield his eyes against it. When he opens them again the guards are on the ground - breathing but unlikely to wake up anytime soon - and Emma is staring at her shaking fingers. 

She looks at him with confusion and fear, helpless he thinks for the first time in her life. He takes one of her trembling hands, kisses it softly, and asks her again.

*** 

They run. They run until they reach the shoreline, Killian gazing out at the sea, and Emma imagines them on any of the ships out there as he attempts to figure out which he could commandeer most easily. She’s quite pleased with how easily she’s taken to piracy. Or perhaps, she’s just taken to pirates. He hasn’t released her hand since they ran from the dungeon and he still won't. She’s not sure she wants him to, for fear that what happened in the dungeon might happen again.

He’s only just picked a ship and started to pull her towards it when they hear the commotion behind them. The guards have caught up to them. The Queen is with them, fury on her face. They stop only a few feet away and Killian steps forward, attempting to stand between them and her. She attempts the same, and so they end up standing side by side, hands clasped tightly, ready to face whatever comes together. 

“Well, Captain,” the Queen says. “I underestimated you. It seems you found her after all.” Emma’s breath catches, putting together the pieces of Killian’s story, of her own. Killian’s fingers only tighten around hers and she realises that he must have put it all together much sooner than she had. 

She calls for her guards and this time Killian does stand before her and the Queen has him on his knees without even taking a step, sick pleasure in her eyes as the man Emma loves gasps for breath. She screams and she cries and she begs but the Queen doesn’t stop. She won’t lose him. It’s not a question or a choice but a fact. She refuses to lose him, not when they’re so close to freedom, not when she’s only just found him. 

She isn’t sure how she does it, but before she has time to question how she does it now, or how she did it then, a light bursts from her fingers and she only just has time to see the fear in the Queen’s eyes before it engulfs them. It flows out of her. Like magic. Like love. And she’s certain that’s what it is, at least, that’s what it feels like. 

She helps Killian to his feet and he takes her hand as he had in the dungeon, thanking her. She asks if he still wants her to come with him, warns him that if she is who they think she is, the Queen will never stop hunting them. He smiles, that same smile from their first night. His fingers find her hair, slipping through the strands from her ear to the ends and letting them fall around her shoulders. 

“I’ve been hunted before,” he says. “And for far less valuable treasure.”

Someday, her parents will find her. Someday they will defeat the queen and they will ask her to come back with them. And she will, for a while. But she will always go back to him, to the adventures that wait for her in far off lands, and to the love that waits for her aboard a ship. But that is only someday. For now, the pirate takes the girl’s hand and asks her to follow him as he will follow her always, to the ends of the earth, or time. 

The End. 

*****

@kmomof4 @snowbellewells @teamhook @resident-of-storybrooke @stahlop @hollyethecurious @artistic-writer @gingerchangeling @bubblegum1425 @jackieorioncat @darkcolinodonorgasm @xhookswenchx @lfh1226-linda @searchingwardrobes @winterbaby89 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @xsajx @thejollyroger-writer @elizabeethan @carpedzem @spartanguard @tiganasummertree @demisexualemmaswan @itsfabianadocarmo @courtorderedcake @yasbio2015 @the-darkdragonfly @klynn-stormz

[hearts-hunger]

aay’han mar’eyce (bittersweet discovery): chapter five || din djarin x reader

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

chapter one || chapter two || chapter three || chapter four

Series Summary: In search of the Jedi you’ve been tasked to find, you and Din wrestle with the bittersweet discovery of your little one’s past and destined future. || Part Three of Jate’kara (Lucky Stars)

Chapter Summary: You and Din struggle with your hurt in the wake of his decision.

Pairings: Din Djarin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff | Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Mentions of canon-typical violence, pregnant reader

A/N: Drumroll please..... it’s the long-awaited angst! Which I have never claimed as my forte, but I think it works for our Struggling™ pair of idiots. They just love each other but they’re so mad at each other, god bless.

You were relieved to see the Crest’s familiar shape emerge through the haze and broken trees. Your feet hurt from walking, your baby was heavy in your arms, and you’d worked yourself into total hopelessness. The sight of your home was welcome and comforting, and you felt yourself breathe easier as you came closer to it.

You lowered the ramp with the remote control on the bracelet Din made you when you first came to live on the Crest, a pretty little thing that he’d modified to control the ship and, later, the baby’s bassinet. You wished you still had that bassinet; it made travelling easier, and there was always a safe place to put Grogu if you and Din had your hands full. You wondered if you’d need two cribs once your new baby came, or if your husband would have already shipped Grogu off by then.

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” you said to yourself, nearly tasting your bitterness. You tucked Grogu into his hammock with intentional gentleness and closed the bunk hatch, wishing you could curl up and sleep too.

You heard the ramp close again over the sound of the refresher tap; the cold water felt good on your skin, and you buried your face in a towel afterwards, hiding from everything for a moment. When you finally looked up, you saw Din in the mirror; you knew him well enough to know he was studying your face in the reflection.

“Cyare,” he said, his tone soft through the modulator.

You whirled around. 

“Don’t cyare me, Din,” you snapped. “I’m not in the mood for it.”

You waited for the flare of frustration and annoyance in his body language; when it didn’t come, you felt a little off-kilter.

“I know you’re angry,” he finally said.

Oh, that did it. Maybe he wasn’t frustrated or annoyed with you, but you were livid with him.

“Angry?” you repeated. You marched over to him, an accusing finger pointed at his chest. “Let’s get one thing straight, Din. Angry doesn’t begin to cover how I feel about this. About you.”

“I know,” he said quickly. “And I’m sorry. But I — ”

“I don’t care,” you said, cutting him off, totally unwilling to listen to his explanation. You were finally, properly angry, and he was going to listen. 

“I’m not sending our son to train with her or with any other Jedi, alright?” you said. “You can make as many deals as you like and come up with a million macho rescue missions to risk your life on. But he’s my son too, and I’m not letting him go with her.”

You realized you were practically yelling at him; while you weren’t concerned about how it would affect him - Din Djarin was made of sterner stuff, and could handle your temper - you didn’t want to risk waking the baby.

“Come up to the cockpit with me,” you said.

His helm gave a questioning tilt. “Why?”

You started up the ladder. “Because I’m not finished yelling at you.”

He followed you up, giving you as much space as he could in the somewhat cramped cockpit. Despite fully intending to keep up your tirade, he was suddenly big, imposing; for the first time in many, many years, you felt intimidated by all that beskar.

“Din,” you said softly.

He reacted immediately to your change in tone, opening his posture towards you. “What is it?”

You shook your head. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been this angry with him, and you certainly couldn’t remember the last time you’d been even the tiniest bit scared of him. All of a sudden, you realized you wanted your husband, not the unreadable Mandalorian standing in front of you.

You worried the hem of your shirt. “Can you please take off your helmet?”

“Yes,” he said quickly, moving to comply without hesitation. He removed his helmet and set it on the dashboard; his face was lined with worry and hurt. “Sorry, cyare.”

His expression crinkled in a wince as he remembered you’d asked him not to call you that. “I mean — sorry. Just — sorry.”

You felt your anger lessen by degrees — not enough to let it go, by any means, but enough that you were more willing to listen to him. Really, you wanted to know why he’d made such a decision; you wanted him to explain it to you, to show you that it really was in your son’s best interest, to convince you that your husband wasn’t suddenly a completely different person.

“It’s ok,” you said tiredly. “I’m not — I just don’t want you sweet talking me, ok? You need to talk to me. Really talk to me, right now.”

He nodded. “I am. I will. You have my full attention, and I will hear you out completely.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. “But you’re not going to change your decision.”

His expression was pained. “No, cyare. I won’t. But I think you know that I can’t. We can’t.”

“We?” you repeated. “I didn’t make this decision, Din. You did, by yourself, and you completely ignored me while you did. Since when do you make decisions about our family by yourself?”

“I didn’t want to,” he said, and it frustrated you how sincere it was. “You have to know that. And I apologize for ignoring you — that’s not the way I wanted this to go, believe me.”

He ran a hand  over his face, his remorse clear as day in his expression. “I had to. I didn’t know what else to do. She was going to leave, and we were going to lose the only Jedi we’ve managed to find.”

You wanted to say that it would have been a good thing, but despite your intentions of bringing him up here to yell at him, you made yourself hold your tongue.

He looked at you with a surprising gentleness.

“It’s not forever,” he said. “It’s only training. Mandalorian children leave for training, too.”

“He’s not going for Mandalorian training, though,” you said. You understood that he was trying to comfort you, but the length of time Grogu would be gone was only a small concern next to the kinds of people he’d be with.

“Didn’t you hear what she said?” you pressed. “I can’t think of anything more different from the Way than — than thinking loving your family is wrong.”

"She didn't say that," he corrected. "She said attachment makes you vulnerable, which is true."

You tried to reconcile his justification with what you knew him to believe, with what he'd lived out since the day you'd met him.

"Vulnerability isn't bad," you said. "You taught me that. And if our son goes trains with the Jedi, he'll be taught that it is. Doesn't that bother you?"

His expression, always so easily readable, flickered with uncertainty.

“It does bother you,” you said, and with the realization came a surprising wave of relief. To know you were at least agreed on that, even if he wouldn’t admit it, was reassuring to you.

His posture stiffened with agitation, and you knew you’d hit a sore spot. You knew he wanted to pace, but there wasn’t room for it; he drummed his fingers on the top of his helmet instead.

“It doesn’t matter if it bothers me,” he said, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself.

You balked. “How can it not matter, Din? You’re his father. Of course it matters.”

He shook his head. “What matters is that I honor the vow I made to him. That we honor that vow.” 

He looked up at you, his expression starting to show the frustration you felt.

“Has that crossed your mind at all?” he asked. “That you made a vow to him? In front of me, in front of the armorer?”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Of course it has. It’s why I don’t want him to go with Ahsoka.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” he snapped. “Our vow was to return him to the Jedi.”

“Our vow was to be his parents,” you corrected. “And I think that overrides the promise to return him to the Jedi. What kind of parents would we be if we watched him grow up thinking that attachment and love were dangerous?”

“We’re not going to watch him grow up at all,” he shot back, bitterness and anger pouring from his tone. “Don’t you get it? He’s older than both of us. Once we’re gone, he’ll be completely alone.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “The Tribe — it’s completely gone, cyare. If there’s anyone left, they’re scattered. I don’t even know where the armorer is. Grogu needs to be raised in a clan, or raised by his own kind. We were never going to be able to keep him forever.”

You knew what he said was true. His rate of aging wasn’t a problem now, when you and Din were both relatively young, but Grogu would live to be much older than either of you. Din was right. If you were a part of a bigger clan, Grogu could be raised as a Mandalorian — it might take a few generations, but he would never be on his own.

“Let’s find another covert, then,” you said. “Or try to find Paz, or the armorer, or anybody from the Tribe who might have survived.”

Din shook his head. “No. There’s no telling where they are, and the covert on Nevarro is the only one I ever knew of. Besides, we have a Jedi right here he can go with. We’re not going to have this kind of chance again.”

“I don’t want him to go with the Jedi,” you said, for what felt like the millionth time. “Are you even listening to me? I don’t want him trained like that.”

“It’s not our choice how to train him,” he argued. “We didn’t vow to return him to the Jedi unless we didn’t like what they teach, and then, hey, I guess we can just do whatever we feel like doing.”

You frowned. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not making fun of you,” he said, exasperated. “I’m just trying to make it clear that our opinions on Jedi training have nothing to do with the decision we need to make.”

“The decision you already made, you mean.”

He scowled. “Yes, and it’s a good thing I did, because you would have let her walk away.”

“Yes, I would have,” you shot back. “And I never would have dreamed you’d do anything different.”

“Then you’re not able to look at this objectively,” he snapped, his frustration rolling off him in waves. “Do you think I like the fact that he'll grow up learning the exact opposite of what I was taught? That I like sending him off to the people I grew up knowing only as the enemy? My father would be rolling in his grave if he knew. But I’m doing this because it’s what’s best for our son. I’m doing it because it’s what I vowed to do.”

Something inside you snapped. 

“Then you care more about the Way than you do about your son’s well-being.”

Din flushed with anger.

“That’s not fair,” he said. “You knew I was bound to the Way when you met me, and you agreed to live by the Way when you married me. I'm not asking you to do anything you didn't already agree to.”

“I didn’t agree to abandon our son.”

“We’re not abandoning him,” he said, and you could tell he was quickly reaching the end of his patience. “You knew when we adopted him we had to return him to the Jedi. It wasn't like the traditional adoption vow. He's supposed to go back to his people, and we're going to honor that vow.”

“What if I won’t?” you said. Your last attempt, your last recourse. “What will you do then?”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, stunned, and your challenge hung in the air between you. You’d never refused to go with him on something before, and he’d never had to answer such a question.

“Cyare,” he said, quiet and numb. The furious, sparking anger was all but gone, replaced by a stony determination and a bone-deep weariness.

“Djarins honor their vows,” he said finally. “As long as you bear my name, you’ll bear that vow.”

You sucked in a breath. “Din — ”

He closed the space between you, pressing a gentle kiss to your brow. “I have to go.”

“Din,” you said again. You put your hand on his arm and held tightly. “Don’t leave.” Not like this.

He gently pried your hand from him. “We need all the daylight we can get, cyare.” He was still for a moment, then drew your hand up to his mouth and kissed your knuckles.

“I love you.”

“I love you too,” you said, without hesitation. “Please don’t go. It’s not your fight.”

The shadow of a rueful smile crossed his face. “I made a vow to help her. I won’t back out on it.”

He held your hand for a moment longer before he let you go. He took his helmet from the dash and put it back on again, masking himself in that armor that had never felt so distant, so unreachable.

“Din,” you said as he opened the cockpit doors. He turned and tilted his head, and the beskar was familiar to you again, just for a moment.

“Come back to me,” you said.

He nodded once, solemn. 

“I’ll always come back to you, cyare. You know that.”

And then he was gone, leaving to risk his life in someone else’s fight, and it took everything in you not to run out and beg him to stay.

pedro pascal character taglist: @punkgeekcryptid​​​​​​, @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl​​​​​, @stardust-galaxies​​​​​, @theorganasolo​​​​​, @qhbr2013​​​​​, @willowtheewisp​​​​​​, @lori-tovar​​, @sarybennett​​ ♡

series taglist: @kyjoraven​​​​​, @sarahjkl82-blog​​​​​, @remmysbounty​​​​​, @bitchin-beskar​​​​​, @cosmicbreathe​​​​​, @prettyboyskywalker​​​​​, @happyxdayxbitch​​​​​, @radiowallet​​​​​​, @marvelous-glims​​ ♡

please send me an ask if you’d like to be added to either taglist! ♡

[beewolfwrites]

And When I am Formulated, Sprawling on a Pin - Chapter Eight: Mad to Live, Mad to Talk

The eighth instalment of my Chishiya x OC/reader fic - you can find it here on AO3 too. 

Thank you to the people who always leave likes and comments, seeing/reading them honestly makes my day :) xx

As for what I mentioned in my last update, I’ll add the references as a chapter at the end of the fic (because some of them will give away spoilers!)

Speaking of spoilers, you guys probably connected some dots (a la hoodie)

Sorry, I'll stop talking - enjoy!

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

The drawl of his voice stretched like a lifeline, pulling me back to myself. Back to the bar.

Chishiya was slouched against the counter, idly watching the scene before him. His eyes dropped to the gun, before rising to meet mine. There was nothing in them, not amusement, not even cruelty. Nothing. They were emptier and darker than they’d ever been. And yet at that moment, I had never been more overjoyed to see him.

‘You should probably put that thing away,’ he said. ‘Hatter won’t be too happy if you start messing with her. He’s got high expectations of her.’

The man pushed the gun further into my skin, sending bursts of anxiety through me. I didn’t want him to pull the trigger accidentally. If he shot me in the stomach, it’d be a slow, painful death.

‘You know Chishiya, I’m pretty sick of you interfering all the time. You should stay out of militant business.’

Chishiya eyed the man with disinterest. ‘Militant business. It’s fascinating what you guys do. You take out the trash and dish out the sentence, but you never check the evidence.’

‘What the hell are you talking about?’ the man snarled. ‘Just shut up and stay out of this.’

‘What I’m saying is that you never bother checking to see if the ‘traitors’ are actually traitors. It’s surprisingly easy to slip a few cards into someone else’s room.’

The tension peaked, and I winced as the fingers around my wrist tightened painfully. Then just as quickly, he released me. He hissed a spew of threats in Chishiya’s face, then stormed off. I hadn’t understood a word, but either way, Chishiya was completely unbothered.

Now that we were alone, he barely even spared me a glance. I half-wondered why he was here. He wouldn’t have come to the bar just to help me. But I also couldn’t picture him as a drunk. As if to answer all the questions floating around in my head, Chishiya signalled to the bartender and said two words.

‘お水をください’ Water, please.

Knowing him, he’d say that alcohol clouds your mind and dulls your rational thinking skills. The bartender set the glass on the counter, but Chishiya didn’t walk away, but sipped his water.

‘Thanks,’ I muttered, although helping me was likely never on his agenda. ‘I’m guessing stuff like that’s pretty common around here.’

‘Well, there are only three rules,’ he said. With one side glance, he zeroed in on the hoodie Kuina had given me. ‘Right now, you’re not allowed to go roaming the city alone because you’re still new, and that makes you a liability. But the next time you’re in a game, you’ll be paired with one of the executives, or someone else with a high rank. If you ask, they’ll go with you to find new clothes.’

I didn’t know how he knew the hoodie wasn’t mine. But I had given up trying to figure out how Chishiya’s mind works.

Before I could ask, he spoke, catching me off guard once again. ‘Come on, Kuina’s waiting for us.’

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

That night, I had found out that Kuina and Chishiya were actually friends. Sort of. It was hard to tell. They hung around together and joked like friends, but instinctively I could tell that Kuina didn’t completely trust him. The days passed quickly, and despite the obvious tension between the militants and the other executives, I found myself actually enjoying it. It was hard not to, with hot water and all.

I spent my days pestering Chishiya to teach me Japanese properly (which he never did). And Kuina and I would chat about the real world. She told me about her mother’s sickness, and how she was desperate to get back to the old world so she could look after her properly. But when she asked about my own life, I filtered a lot of things out. I explained how I was visiting Japan with my brother, and how I had been trying to learn Japanese on and off for a few years just so that I could visit. But when it came to my personal life, I just couldn’t bring myself to talk about it.

‘話せば長くなる,’ I told her. It’s a long story.

The days seemed to dry up under the heat of the sun, and sure enough, my visa was due to expire.

Sitting cross-legged on my bed under the late afternoon rays, I couldn’t help but feel apprehensive after my last game… my first Hearts game… meeting Niragi and Aguni… the laser tag guns… the ball pit… the teenage girl. It had all collected into one big mass, and my throat tightened at the thought of the blood, the darkness.

No, I tried to tell myself. It’s different now. We’ll be put into teams, and I won’t be alone. We’ll clear the games together.

With slightly more resolve than before, I climbed off the bed and quietly left my room, only my stomach dropped when I saw the nasty surprise waiting for me on the other side of the door.

Niragi was leaning against the opposite wall, and the moment I exited, he shot me a grin. I had no idea what he was doing there, probably militant business, so I nodded at him in acknowledgement, then headed down the hall. I knew something was seriously wrong when I heard his footsteps stalking behind me.

‘Niragi,’ I greeted him.

‘Shorty,’ he replied, now walking beside me. ‘You really shouldn’t ignore people, you know. It’s rude as fuck.’

What does he want with me of all people?

‘私を待っているとは知らなかった,’ I told him honestly. I didn’t know you were waiting for me.

‘Ch, as if. I waited there for half an hour. Where the hell are you off to anyway?’

I held out my bandaged arm. ‘これがまだ痛い。だから医療室ではアンに会う.’ This still hurts, so I’m meeting An in the medical room.

Overall, it had healed pretty well. But after the laser tag game, and being kidnapped by militants, the wound had partially re-opened again.

‘I’ll go with you.’

Why??

My gut instinct was telling me to run away, far away.

We turned a corner, stopping in front of the elevators. When the doors pinged open, the group of girls inside immediately stopped talking once they laid eyes on us. They darted out of the elevator, leaving it empty for Niragi and I to enter. I tried not to feel nervous around him. If he wanted me dead, he’d have just shot me already, so it couldn’t be that.

‘どうして待っていた?’ I asked, slowly. How come you were waiting?

Asking Niragi questions felt like a life-or-death situation. Last time I was rude to him he kicked me in the spine. The man was like a loaded gun; he had to be handled with care.

However, he didn’t reply, and the lingered between us until the elevator stopped at the basement floor. We headed down a long, dark hallway, with exposed cables and pipes suspended from the ceiling. This was starting to feel like a really, really bad idea. Seeing the medical room door, I sped up instinctively, but Niragi’s hand grabbed my shoulder, pulling me back and yanking me around. The movement sent shooting pains down through my injured arm.

‘Chishiya,’ Niragi said, eyes glinting with malice. ‘You’ve become pretty chummy with him recently.’

Wait… what?

‘That’s not…’ I hated the way my voice stuttered. ‘そうじゃない.’ That’s not it….

He clearly wasn’t buying it. ‘Tell me what he’s up to. He’s an arrogant little shit and I know he’s up to something.’

Niragi’s grip was too tight, way too tight, and I could barely think straight through the pain. ‘違うよ,’ I insisted. You’re wrong.

‘Am I? I don’t think so, Shorty. You’d better tell me now before I put a bullet in you.’

I didn’t know whether I was scared or annoyed. My heart hammered in my chest, but I was getting pretty sick of his ridiculous questions. I tore away from his hold, inspecting the sleeve for any spots of blood that could’ve seeped through.

‘Stop doing that! クイナのパーカーを���無しにしたくない.’ I don’t want to ruin Kuina’s hoodie.

His brow furrowed a little at this, but I ignored it. Someone like him probably didn’t care about getting blood on his clothes.

I didn’t know how to say what I meant in Japanese, so all I could do was tell him in English. ‘You’re right about one thing. Chishiya’s awful. But you’re wrong about everything else. He can’t stand the sight of me, except when he’s watching me suffer. So even if he did have some kind of plan hatched up, he wouldn’t bother telling me.’

Niragi pulled away and stood up fully. Despite his visible irritation, he was listening all the same.

Perhaps he knows a little bit of the language?

‘And even then,’ I continued, ‘if he was planning something, why would he bother? You know as well as anyone he’s just in this for his own survival and being here at the Beach is his best shot. It wouldn’t make sense.’

A dangerous look worked its way onto his features. I thought right then and there that he’d attack me, kick me with his boot like he’d done before. But he did the exact opposite. With one hand, he twirled his fingers in a strand of my hair, before softly tucking it behind my ear.

I held my breath as he leaned in. ‘Everything you just said,’ he whispered, ‘is complete bullshit.’

Then pulling away quicker than I could flinch, he readjusted his rifle on his shoulder and took off back down the hall. Then he suddenly stopped, as if remembering something, and looked at me over his shoulder.

‘That hoodie you’re wearing… it’s Chishiya’s.’

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

I must’ve looked like I’d seen a ghost, because when I finally entered the medical room, An immediately asked me if I was feeling ill. I tried telling her that I was perfectly fine, but she insisted on taking a bunch of tests to make sure I wasn’t going into septic shock. I couldn’t tell her that it was closer to actual shock.

Even when I finally left the medical room, I still couldn’t shake it off. Except now, the surprise had worn away, leaving sheer humiliation in its place.

Did Kuina steal it from his room?  

When he met me at the bar, he must’ve seen it and wondered where I’d gotten it from. And when he had mentioned asking one of the executives to go shopping with me… he had probably assumed I’d been in his room and taken it.

Oh god…

I wanted to curl up in a ball and cry. I wanted to scream and tell him I’m sorry. I wanted to rip the hoodie off and push it as far away from me as I could. But I couldn’t. I still didn’t feel comfortable being so exposed.

‘It’s fine,’ I tried to convince myself, ‘everything’s fine.’ I got into the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor.

My visa’s due to expire tonight, so I can get a new one for myself. I’ll just explain everything to him. It’s almost game time anyway, so he might be in the lobby.

As the elevator doors opened, I wiped any tears away with my hands, careful not to dirty the sleeves, and headed to the lobby. It was packed with Beach residents, either wishing their friends luck or preparing for the games ahead. I found the little table at the front and took the slip of paper with my name on it.

Group Two.

Then I stepped back, leaning against the wall as my eyes searched the crowds. Sure enough, I spotted a white hood, the thin tendrils of grey-blond hair visible beneath. I waited until he took his slip of paper before I stepped forward.

But there was no need. His eyes locked onto mine from across the room, as if he had clocked onto my presence immediately without showing it. He trudged through the masses, coming to a stop in front of me. I couldn’t help but rub my arms nervously.

‘I’m sorry,’ I blurted out, ‘Kuina gave me this hoodie, and I assumed it was hers and that she was letting me use it. But I just found out from Niragi that it’s actually yours. I didn’t steal it or anything, and I’ve definitely never been in your room. I’m so sorry, I had no idea.’

Chishiya didn’t seem surprised at all, or if he was, he was an expert at hiding it. ‘I know,’ he said, at last. ‘You couldn’t have known where my room was anyway.’

Thinking about it, he had a point. When I started wearing this, I hadn’t even left my own room, so I couldn’t have been in Chishiya’s.

‘I guess you’re right.’

I felt his warmth against my side as he leaned on the wall next to be me. ‘But what I told you at the bar that night still stands,’ he said. ‘Tonight, you’ll get the chance to go looking for any clothes or personal items you want.’

‘Once I get some of my own clothes, I’ll wash this and give it back to you, I promise’ I told him. ‘I just need to find out who the executive in my group is.’

‘It’s me.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Because the executives create the groups,’ he said. ‘And I happen to be supervising you. Normally, when a new member arrives, we do an aptitude test. We observe them in a game to test their abilities, but I’ve already vouched for your abilities, and there were only two executives with an expiring visa.’

‘That’s….’ I trailed off, then something clicked. ‘Wait, who was the other executive?’

Ignoring my question, he went on. ‘Since I’ve already seen your abilities, your only test will be to survive. If you can do that, I’ll go with you to get whatever supplies you need.’

I tried to keep the smile from my face, but I couldn’t hold it back. ‘Sounds like a deal.’

‘Time for the games!’ a voice called out, excitedly, and the whole room erupted into cheers. The masses of Beach members piled through the doors, trying to find their assigned cars and groups.

At the same time, I hadn’t moved at all. I couldn’t keep my eyes from Chishiya’s. He was looking back into mine with that same calculating emptiness. I could see the cogs turning, but I didn’t know what they were turning for.

Then as quickly as it happened, the moment was gone as he left, disappearing into the crowd.

[highonchocolate]

Take Two: The Guardian in Gotham Chapter 3

First   Previous   Next   Ao3

Bruce sat at the head of the long oak dining table and waited for his children to make their way into the room for dinner. They came in as a staggered group; Jason arguing about some novel with Dick while Tim and Damian brought up the back as they discussed their patrol routes for the night. After Alfred and Damian helped serve the food, Bruce cleared his throat pointedly and waited for everyone to pay attention. 

Once everyone had looked up from their discussions he spoke. “Alfred has a friend named Gina; and she had called this evening to see if her granddaughter could stay with us. She lives in Paris; but her classmates were bullying her and her parents thought a change of scenery would do her some good. I have agreed to let her stay with us in the Manor.” Even before he had finished speaking the table erupted with different questions from his children.

“Bruce are you sure this is wise?” Tim questioned over Dick’s ecstatic squealing (“I’ve always wanted a little sister!!!”), and Jason’s grumbling (“Shut the fuck up Dickhead. I don’t know why the fuck B is bringing someone into this house to live with this dysfunctional family.”). Ignoring his siblings; he pressed on “I mean, how are we going to hide Batman and the vigilante stuff from her?” As Bruce paused to answer Damian stood up and scowled. “Tt. This is a moronic decision. Inform me of when this girl is to arrive and inform  her to stay out of my way.” He lifted his chin and crossed his arms before marching out of the room.

After Damian’s outburst, Jason looked over from where he was arguing with Dick and added his input “Timbo’s right, B. How are we going to hide that from her?” 

“We’ll have to make sure at least two of you remain in the manor each night so that she doesn’t get too suspicious.” He answered. “Now, the only reason I agreed to letting her stay here was namely for Alfred, and also because of what her classmates did to her” 

“What do you mean, Bruce?” Dick questioned. “Did they like assault her or something?”

“Or something” He responded grimly before sending the photo to all three of them. 

As they looked at the photo, he observed their reactions to the image. Dick was not smiling for once, and his sunny blue eyes had darkened to an icy frost. His whole body was tense; and his jaw was so clenched his teeth were grinding together. Jason was standing up with two guns locked and loaded in his hands. He had also managed to procure a knife from somewhere, which appeared as he leant forward and asked “What were the names of the people who did this again?” in a completely lethal tone. Tim, already hacking away at his computer responded “Not there yet, but from what I can find out, she goes to College Francois DuPont and she’s fifteen.” He briefly looked up and made eye contact with Bruce before asking “How fast do you think we can get our lawyers onto those kids B?” At the declarations of his children, Bruce closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers. “We can not file any lawsuits yet, not without Marinette’s permission.” He answered, sighing tiredly. “Marinette?” Dick questioned. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” Tim responded instantly. “That’s her name.” 

“She will be coming on Monday, and Alfred will be picking her up from the airport. She is also going to attend GA, so someone please tell Damian.” Bruce said as he stood from the table. “Now hurry up, we have patrol tonight, and there have been rumors about a drug ring near Crime Alley.”

---

After coming back from the hospital and having a sleepover Thursday night, Chloé and Adrien were completely sleep-deprived as they trudged into school the next morning. Settling into her usual seat beside Sabrina, Chloé silently thanked all the Kwami that she didn’t have to sit next to Lila. Halfway though class, Mrs. Bustier suddenly frowned and looked at the back row. “Does anyone know where Marinette is? She still hasn’t arrived yet!”

“Probably still sleeping at home! She’ll come in completely late as usual!” Alya cackled. At her words, Chloé felt her entire body heat up with righteous indignity. She opened her mouth to tell that wannabe tabloid reporter to get her facts straight, but then Adrien caught her eye and shook his head. He then pointed at his phone, and mimed unlocking it before pointing to her. Catching the hint, she checked her messages to see that Marinette had sent them a text.

FashionableBug: Mari said to tell Chloé and Adrien not to do anything to Lila or anyone else that starts making stuff up. (From Luka btw)

You’reUnderAgreste: Me-ouch, My Lady. I would never!

QueenofMean: shut it with the puns, Noir. Maribug, I will only listen to you because you’re injured and I’m not going to go against your wishes.

Putting her phone away, Chloé resigned herself to a miserable school day. 

---

After school, she walked into Marinette’s room and flopped dramatically onto the chaise, before letting out a long groan.

“That bad?” Mari chuckled as she scribbled sketched one-handedly in her design notebook. 

“You have no idea.” Chloé responded. 

Their conversation continued into mundane things, such as everyone’s patrol routes, and various theories on who Hawkmoth was. Totally normal topics for teenagers. As the day drew to a close, they made plans for everyone to come over to start packing the next day before Chloé left the bakery and headed home.

---

Come Saturday, Marinette, Chloé and Luka spent the morning playing board games one handed “to level the playing field” as Luka put it and eating lots of cookies and pastries-provided by Marinette’s parents of course. Adrien and Kagami were attending their various classes until afternoon, so the remaining three spent their time relaxing, and coming up with a list of things to pack for Mari’s stay in Gotham. Two o’ clock rolled around, and the bells over the bakery jingled to announce the arrival of the final members of the packing committee.  

Any plans to begin their assignment of somehow fitting all Marinette’s fabrics into the suitcase were cut short by an Akuma. 

They all transformed, even though Kagami and Luka has been  extremely reluctant to let Mari go even though the suit temporarily healed her injuries. Climbing through her roof hatch, they set out across the rooftops to defeat their latest villain.

---

Five hours later, the teen heroes dropped into her room, and detransformed in various flashes of multicolored lights. They collapsed onto the bed and chairs and silently agreed to just  sleep , and get the packing done the next day.

---

All of Sunday was spent throwing various clothes and accessories into Mari’s pink and black suitcase. There were several sweaters and hoodies (added by Chloé), as well as several leggings and many thick pajama pants (Sabine).

Adrien (with the help of Tom) had somehow managed to pack over ten different pun-covered t-shirts, and by the time they were discovered, they had been buried under piles upon piles of fluffy socks from Kagami. Luka also threw in some scarves before Marinette added some toiletries, her sewing kit, and her computer.

Picking up the backpack she had decided to use as a carry-on, Marinette rifled through it to make sure she had everything in there as well.

Spare change of clothes in case she loses her suitcase? Check. Phone, headphones, and charger? Check. Sketchbook and pencils? Check. Disguised Miracle Box? Check.

She turned to her family (Not her teammates, not her friends, but her family.) and smiled. It was small, and bittersweet, but it was a smile. “Alright guys, I guess I’m all set.” She said, before joining them all in a group hug. They offered her soft, tearful smiles before Tom carried her big suitcase down the stairs. 

That night, Marinette fell asleep surrounded by all the people she loved, and she couldn’t have been happier.

---

The next day, her Papa carried her downstairs and placed her into her wheelchair (since she had a broken foot, and couldn’t use her leg, they had given her a wheelchair) before wheeling her outside and placing her into the car waiting by the street. 

Her friends were all inside, and she gripped Adrien’s hand tightly as they drove to the airport. 

As she stood to board the plane, she turned back to catch one last glimpse of them all. Chloé was leaning into Kagami’s side who was holding her girlfriend’s hand tightly. Adrien was waving wildly, and Luka and her parents all raised one hand in farewell. Her Maman and Papa has some red rimming their eyes, but they smiled at her as she was wheeled into the plane. Next stop: Gotham, New Jersey.

Since her flight left Paris at 10 AM, she was set to arrive in Gotham at around 12 PM/noon. With that in mind, she decided to stay awake for the entire flight so that her body could adjust better. 

As they crossed the Atlantic, Marinette, sitting in first class thanks to Chloé and Adrien’s combined nagging; popped her earbuds in, and began to sketch. 

She stared out the window as she touched down, shocked by all the dog and darkness in the city. As she collected her bags, and wheeled her way outside to look for her host family, she couldn’t help but notice how everyone in this city was much more on edge than most normal people. ‘They act as though they are expecting an attack at any second of the day.’ She mused to herself. Her train of thought was cut off by the sight of an elderly man with a powerful aura standing next to a limo with a sign saying “Marinette Dupain-Cheng”. She wheeled her way over to him and smiled brightly. “Salut! My name is Marinette! What is yours, Monsieur!” She questioned, holding out her hand for a handshake.

“It’s lovely to meet you Miss Marinette, my name is Alfred Pennyworth.” Alfred responded, smiling gently down at her. “Now let’s get you and your bags in the car, shall we?” He reaches out to shake her hand, and the moment their fingers touched her vision was filled with dark blue and red. She laughed and smiled up at him. “It is an honor to meet you, noble Peacock.” She greeted him in the Guardian language, honoring his position as a True Holder. “And it is an honor to meet you as well, Ladybug.” He answered. She grinned and allowed him to help her into the back of the limo before he climbed into the driver's seat and they sped off to Wayne Manor. 

---

When he saw the young girl, Alfred was shocked to say the least. She was roughly 5’ 4” (162.5 cm), and was very petite. Her stature, combined with her wheelchair, wrist brace, and the cast on her leg, all strengthened his resolve to protect the young girl from any further harm. That was only intensified when their auras recognized each other. How could anyone place the responsibility of upholding balance on such a young child? 

As he drove to the Manor, she informed him that the Cat, Bee, Dragon and Snake were active on her team. Before he could ask her what the threat they were battling was, they had arrived at the Manor, and she had immediately tensed and gone silent.

Deciding that it was better to ask more questions later, he got out of the car to retrieve her bags and chair. Master Bruce and three of his children except for Master Damian were waiting in front of the doors to the Manor, and they all waited patiently for her as she exited the car. 

---

Marinette was nervous. Sure, taking to Monsieur Alfred was really fun, and she couldn’t wait to tell him more about Paris, but now she was meeting her actual host family! What if they didn’t like her? What if they decided to send her back?! Then what would she do?? A small cough interrupted her downward spiral, and she looked up from her lap to see Monsieur Alfred waiting in front of the open door with her wheelchair. Grabbing her backpack, she awkwardly maneuvered herself into the chair and allowed herself to be wheeled out in front so she could meet Monsieur Bruce Wayne.

---

Note: Alfred doesn’t know that Marinette is the Guardian. He just knows she’s a Ladybug holder.

[last-operator-standing]

Toll Of The Bell

Chapter 3 - Sonder

> Read on Ao3

> Chapter 1 (tumblr)

> Chapter 2 (tumblr)

> Chapter 4 (tumblr)

Summary: What now? He could roll over and accept the fate thrust upon him and die as Adler intended. Starting a new life away from it all couldn’t be that bad either. Or…

Or he could finish the mission.

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Warning apply this chapter

Words: 1.8k (7.3k total)

A/N: I'm sorry this one took so long asjdfjf I'm awful at keeping any sort of regular schedule- but i'm going to be trying much harder to keep the chapters flowing :') I'd love to hear any thoughts, and thank you all for the support <3 (p.s. Adler will be here v soon- Promise uwu)

"Please stop staring at me."

Bell has no intention of doing so. He's been staring down Lazar from the moment the man stumbled into the kitchen to join him at the table. The sunlight is harsh despite the closed curtains and the coffee fails to stimulate either agent's mind. This certainly isn't Lazar's ideal morning. The silence stretches on, but the uncomfortable feeling of Bell's eyes on him has him sighing loudly.

"Damn, Bell, alright." Lazar gives in. The chair scrapes loudly against the tile floor as he pushes back to stand, disappearing for a moment and returning with a bag. It piques Bell's curiosity; he was too tired to notice it last night.

A folder slaps loudly against the table and slides a few centimeters towards Bell. The Russian, unable to contain himself, surges forward to snatch it. "You're right about your buddy. Definitely a smuggler of sorts."

Bell flips the folder open and begins rooting through the contents. A picture of Kapano Vang is clipped on the inside. The first page has basic information. Name, call sign, date and place of birth. Bell's more interested in the finer details: A few suspected routes, potential cartel members, a list of what they believe is being smuggled. There's a few recurring words that catch his eye. Golden Triangle Cartel is scribbled at the bottom and underlined twice. Beside it, drawn in bold red ink and circled multiple times, Bell reads PERSEUS?

"What did you see yesterday, in those memories of yours?"

Bell gives a small shake of his head. "It was a bar, I think. He was there." He taps the portrait with a finger. "And someone else who knew us but.. I couldn't remember his face," The Russian gives a disappointed click of his tongue. "Or his name."

Lazar tries to offer a reassuring smile. "Hey, don't sweat it. It'll come back to you."

Bell wishes he could share in Lazar's positivity. He really does. But he can't be sure what brought the memories to him in the first place, or why they were so fragmented. After spending much of the night agonizing over any additional detail he might remember about Perseus or Kapano Vang or anyone else he had seen at that bar and coming up short, Bell's hope started to slip. In the end he could only point fingers at Adler and his MK-Ultra project. "So what's next?"

Lazar doesn't answer right away. He looks thoughtful. Even with their revelation on Kapano Vang and his cartel, they are nowhere closer to finding Perseus than they were before. They are back to square one.

"Well, I could try cross-referencing with MI6 again-" he means Park, Bell thinks with a snort "-and see if they have anything new."

Lazar's looking at him intently and Bell realizes he's waiting for a response. "Oh, uh. Yeah." Bell shifts awkwardly in his seat. "Whatever you say."

A week later, the two man team have no progress to show for their efforts. In that time, Bell's gone over the files at least a dozen and a half times and nothing's changed, nor have any new memories resurfaced. Lazar's cross-referencing has yet to unearth anything new either, telling Bell MI6 is just in the dark as they are.

"This isn't working, Laz." Bell slams the paper back against the kitchen table. His irritation is reflected in the other man's face but Lazar does a better job at hiding it. "We just have to keep looking," Lazar sighs. "We have the answer here somewhere."

Bell clicks his tongue in disapproval. "I've been over these files again and again. There's nothing here. We're not going to find Perseus on some piece of paper-" An idea strikes Bell. Something he never considered before now.

"Bell?" Lazar frowns. "You alright?"

"What if we look for that bar?" Excitement shines in Bell's eyes. Lazar's startled by his suggestion.

"I don't know-"

"C'mon, Laz, think about it. There was more than one Perseus agent there, in my memory." A plan was beginning to hatch in Bell's mind. From the way he's looking at him, Lazar doesn't like where he's going with it. "If we find that bar, maybe we can find one of those agents. Maybe even match some of these faces." He looks down at the file of unconfirmed but suspected Perseus soldiers.

"I don't know about this," Lazar repeats slowly, uncertainly. "If someone recognizes us it could cause some trouble. Especially if they recognize you. You helped stop Perseus the first time. No doubt his people are painfully aware of that."

Bell doesn't want to hear it, though. "It's just a risk we'll have to take," he argues. "I'm a spy, Laz. I know how to keep my head down."

After a bit of back and forth it's settled. First, they'll compile a list of bars in areas known or suspected to be frequented by Perseus. Then, while in constant contact, as Lazar insists, Bell will make his way through each alone and hope nobody recognizes him while he searches for the bar from his memory.

It takes two days to assemble a full list and another day and a half to narrow it down and map a route.

"I'm still not happy about this," Lazar grunts as he drops a duffel bag onto the table. Bell eagerly snatches it and begins shuffling inside. "You worry too much, old man."

The first thing Bell pulls from the bag is a change of clothes. They both agreed he needs something casual. And clean. It would make blending in with the crowd much easier. Too excited about the upcoming mission has Bell stripping where he stands. No time for modesty.

"C'mon, Bell, in the kitchen?" Lazar turns with a light pink tinting his face. Bell grins wide but doesn’t reply. The new outfit fits comfortably. He returns to the bag and roots around for his next prize. There’s a knife with a sheath and a small handgun waiting at the bottom. The knife is removed first. Bell carefully slides it free of its sheath. The blade is unusually slim and dark in color, and sports a dangerously sharp tip with partial serration of both sides near the hilt. Bell’s entirely absorbed in admiring the blade, so much so that he misses Lazar’s amused look until he speaks up.

“I thought you’d like that one.”

Bell returns the smile. “Oh, hell yeah. It reminds me of the one I had in-”

“Hey, Sims! You know reading that shit’s gonna make you go blind.”

“Yep! That’s why I want it alll up here.” Sims shot Adler a lazy grin. The commander slapped the book back against Sims’ chest.

“Bell, you’re with Sims. You usually bring out the best in each other.”

“RPGS! BRACE! BRACE!”

Bell watched in horror as a rocket collided with the chopper beside theirs. It careened dangerously before smashing into theirs, sending their own bird into a death spiral.

Everything was in chaos.

“Grab my hand! I gotcha! I got-!”

“We’ve lost power-!”

“We’re going down-!”

“BRACE!”

Bell blinks hard and his smile falls. There’s a knowing look on Lazar’s face and neither agent speaks a word about it. “C’mon,” Lazar gives a pat to Bell’s shoulder. “Showtime.”

The pair ride in silence. Lazar’s behind the wheel, giving Bell some time to think. He tries to keep the mission center focus, but the memories of Vietnam are overwhelming, fresh in his mind as if they just happened. And they’re not even real. I was never in Vietnam.

The car rolls to a stop and breaks Bell from his thoughts. “Alright, remember, coms on at all times.” Bell rolls his eyes and pops the door, deftly sliding from his seat. “I mean it, Bell!” But he slams the door without reply, turning towards the street. The small earpiece is already safely pressed into his ear and hidden behind his hair.

The checkered brick sidewalks stretch wide on either side of the street. There’s a decent amount of people strolling to and fro, some carrying briefcases and dressed in neatly pressed suits, others in casual attire with seemingly no important place to be. Lazar pulls off, leaving Bell to head for the first destination on his list.

The first thing Bell notices as he pushes into the first bar is the pungent mingling of smoke, alcohol, and sweat in the air. The floor beneath his boots is a glossy hardwood and matches the light oaken walls. The occupants chatter noisily, and although the sound is familiar, the atmosphere is not. This is not the right place. Keeping his appearance as casual as possible, Bell slips through the crowd and retreats out the back door. He glances around to confirm he’s alone before mumbling his findings to Lazar.

One down, seven more to go.

The second bar Bell stumbles into is smaller. There are less individuals milling around and the golden walls are all wrong from the dark cedar panels from his memory. The third bar is even less promising, while the fourth and fifth are so far from Bell’s memory that he’s positive he’s working backwards now.

Bell rejoins the thinning herd on the streets with a dejected sigh. This wasn’t working out. There’s two more bars to check and already it was getting dark. He’d hope for something; A clue, a new memory, a familiar face. Lazar keeps up with words of encouragement but Bell doesn’t have the capacity to share the optimism.

The sixth bar Bell checks holds a notable hushed atmosphere. Right away he’s stricken by the dark atmosphere. It felt.. Tense. Insidious. It doesn’t feel right, but for an entirely different reason. While most of the denizens ignore Bell, a few side-eye him dangerously. He steps to the counter and orders a drink, primarily to alleviate any suspicions from both inside and out.

Bell can’t shake the feeling of eyes boring into his back. It’s somehow different from when he first walked in and was certainly making him more uncomfortable. He shifts in his seat and tries his best to nonchalantly turn and find who the hell was staring at him so hard, but when he looks, he finds nothing out of the ordinary.

The feeling of unease doesn’t leave. He grows antsy and finally after paying with money given to him by Lazar, Bell downs the last of his drink and turns back into the streets. This is certainly not going the way Bell had hoped. The seventh bar is quite the walk from the sixth, allowing him some time to breathe and collect his thoughts.

The feeling of unease melts from Bell’s shoulders the longer he walks. Lazar’s quiet so he turns his attention outward and listens curiously to the broken chatter of the dwindling civilians.

“-think he talks about anything else?”

“Well, it’s not like-”

“Timur?”

“That’s not.. Point.. Why else-”

“Timur!”

“I just think you should consider-”

A hand lands heavily on Bell’s shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. He turns in surprise.

“Timur!” A man stands before Bell with a lazy smirk and a gleam to his eyes- as if he recognizes him. His dark hair is cropped close to his head and a pair of lightly tinted shades adorns his face. The accent is certainly not Russian, and it throws Bell off guard. “Hey! Remember me?”

[yandere-sins]

Supernatural prompt 28 and maybe also 10 with Lord Diavolo please! Maybe a loose continuation of the pact one you did before (I've read that three times it's my favorite)?

I am super glad that you enjoyed it so much! :3 Thanks for requesting a continuation!

“Your contract is, by far, my favorite, Dearest.”   &   “I’ve been watching you longer than you realize.”

»»———————— ♡ ————————««  

The ribbons around your wrist, trailing up your arms and to your neck, were, if you had to put it in one word, exquisite.

“Only the finest for you,” Barbatos assured you, casually, as if this was normal. Perhaps, to him or Diavolo, it was. How many poor souls must have suffered like this before you? Not like you wanted to know the exact number. You dreaded the answer to this question, meaning you’d also know how many survived the tortures deal you made.

Tearing a ribbon, you had assumed, must be easy. The fabric was never as tight as a rope or a mere belt, so it should have been child’s play. “Done,” Barbatos' calm voice announced, and you didn’t waste one breath before you pulled your arms away from each other, as if they were rejecting magnets.

That it would quite literally cut off your air supply wasn’t something you calculated in the ‘easy’ plan you hatched just seconds ago.

The amused laugh that resounded from in front of you added the weight of despair on top of your shoulders, your eyes instinctively, yet begrudgingly focusing ahead. “Splendid work, Barbatos,” Diavolo praised his butler, who brought his hand to his chin thoughtfully, nodding slowly as he accepted the compliment.

“The best one I did so far, if I may say so.”

“Absolutely!” More laughter fell of the future King's lips while you pursed your own around the ribbon placed in your mouth, cutting off the words you so much liked to throw around the room. Only then did Diavolo’s eyes find yours directly, no lingering glances around your strapped up body, no polite glances towards Barbatos. His hand lifted, waving dismissively. “You might leave now.”

There was no hesitation, no question, not even a weird look into your direction as Barbatos bowed, moving quickly to disappear from his master’s sight. For as long as you could, did you look after him, frustrated, angry about him seemingly not giving the least amount of concern to what was happening before him. He’d always seem like a nice guy; you couldn’t believe he turned out to be just another bad showcase of a devil too.

Barbatos wasn’t out of the door yet that your and Diavolo’s eyes fell back onto each other, staring each other down as if you had a chance to actually make him see reason by fighting this quiet war. When you still had so much freedom to talk, you had shared your worries with him, asked what exactly this was leading to, but that was impossible now, with you tied up like a freaky birthday present.

“Why are you doing this? That’s what you are thinking, right?”

Were you surprised that he knew what you wanted to ask? No. Did it disappoint you nonetheless? Yes.

“Well, see, “ he sat both feet on the ground again, having previously crossed his left over his right leg, excitedly bobbing the foot in the air. “I’ve been watching you longer than you realize. And the thing is...”

Diavolo stood up. Something inside of you tensed at the sight of his tall body approaching while you were tied to a pole in the middle of what seemed to be his bedroom. Or maybe, his room for all sorts of other fun activities, you weren’t sure if he actually slept in this monstrosity of silk and leather, with the occasional fur laying around and various monster trophy’s on the wall. It was an absurd replica of what you imagined wealthy people liked to decorate with, except, turn it all demonic, and you were good to go.

No matter how much he put on a performance for you, gesturing wildly as he told you his reasoning, you never missed that utterly disgusting, blood-freezing shine in his eyes. A possessive, relived, happy shine that only ever appeared when he looked at you now. “You are such a special, delicate soul! Beings like you are rare, and you would be wasted on just any devil! Your services will have a much more significant reason if you are by my side, and you will only be able to learn about the real Devildom with me. You understand that?”

Shaking your head, he was finally close enough to caress your cheek, your skin smacking into his palm as you only grew more agitated to get rid of the feeling of his touch. “I knew you would~” he cooed, blissfully ignoring the negativity of your gesture in favor of his own thoughts. All you could hear from them were lies, lies, lies, hiding what he actually wanted to say to you.

You’re a new, shiny toy in my eternal boredom to bend and break at my will.

“I did not say that,” Diavolo spluttered firmly, a rare case of being offended in his expression. The realization rained down on you that he wasn’t just guessing your thoughts. He actually could hear them. Only for a moment, your eyes fell to the sigil on your chest as far as you could see it, shining brightly behind the white dress-shirt you had been allowed to wear, presumably, one of his. And as expected, despite it not giving off any feeling at all, it shone brighter than the sun, which was never to be seen in the Devildom, magic imbedded in it that could make everything possible.

“Not everything, but a lot, yes.”

Repulsed by what you just learned, you merely leaned away, even if he tried to make his palm follow your face. You were tempted to think up the worst things you knew about, but his everlasting smile never withered, never changed, while you made yourself even more miserable thinking about gruesome things. It was almost unfair how much he was able to keep his composure while you made yourself sick just from your own memory and imagination.

A pitying sigh rolled off his lips as he hooked his pointer underneath the ribbon strapped over your mouth, pulling it out from its uncomfortable cut-in at the corners of your lips. It took a bit of pulling and tightening around the rest of the ribbon, making your arms come closer together, neck straining to accommodate the pull, before Diavolo made it rest around your throat additionally, everything falling back into a more comfortable hold.

“Your contract is, by far, my favorite, Dearest. I’ll admit that time can be a lonely thing. But when I saw you, I experienced these new emotions, the ones I long lost in the passing of said time, do you understand that?”

“Bullshit, you said you’d make me stronger! You wanted to lend me strength! You’d... you’d help me...” you sputtered. It was hard not to cry from frustration with all of this being your fault, after all. Had you not been lured in with pretty words and empty promises, naive as you were, this wouldn’t have been the result.

“Shh, there’s no use throwing blame back and forth. Even if you can’t see it yet, I am helping you. I am here to help, and you will be thankful for my efforts, you’ll see.”

Diavolo leaned in for - what you assumed was - a kiss that was supposed to bring you two closer together and reassure you. As if he deserved any kind of affection for you after those shallow words. You hadn’t noticed his free hand snaking behind your back, ready to pull at the string that you detested so much for all the pain it caused you with its sharp edges and breathtaking tightness.

No one could blame you for giving in to his first lesson for you to learn, even if the kiss was beyond anything pleasant that you could imagine. The pain and fear of not being able to breathe again simply complied your body to turn to him and accept the caress. But compliance was the most important thing for him, and it also suited Diavolo that he could tug you into submission if he so desired.

Too bad you couldn’t read his thoughts in return, the plans, and the visions he had for you. As per contract, he’d fulfill his promise of making you stronger, but until then, you were his to decide how he was going to do it. If he wanted you to be his toy, you'd be his toy. His pet, you'd be his pet. There was no telling if you could ever be an actual partner, or if you two could ever make this deal anything close to platonic with these raging desires and joy he felt having you at his disposal. But he'd make you work for your contract.

More than you could have ever anticipated.

[kessielrg]

[Kingdom Hearts] Commission Please!

Summary: In which concentrated bits of chaos meet a shy artist. Dedicated to @chibi-mushroom, my Namine-sensei and to whom I’m converting in to a bunny child appreciator. xD

Rating: K

Word Count: 2,210 words

If you liked this story, please reblog!

---

There was always something interesting happening in Disney Town. The colors, the sounds, the smells- it was nearly overwhelming as Namine breathed it all in. The atmosphere of the place always seemed to knock Namine slightly off guard every time she set foot in it. Disney Town was a very alive world, and all the experiences with it flowed through effortlessly. She was always so amazed that every day was different than the last- definitely a stark contrast to how she started out in the world. Today, Disney Town offered something new, something no one had seen before and was quite hard to ignore.

“Where on earth did all these bunny kids come from?!” Lea demanded once they entered town square. They were very hard to ignore. Every foot or so, there was at least one of the small, blue bunnies getting into some sort of trouble.

“Not sure,” Kairi said, just as a bunny kid hopped onto her head, bent down to look her in the eye, happily wave, then bound off of her head. She couldn’t hide her little giggle as she went on to add, “But they sure are cute.”

“Ri-ight.” Lea snorted. He looked down to see a bunny child at his feet. It stuck its tongue out at him before laughing rather maniacally. “They look about as cute as a wart on someone’s toe. Just as persistent too.”

“Lea!” Kairi admonished, gently smacking him with the back of her hand. The taller redhead did nothing to defend himself. Instead he gave them a charming little grin that feigned innocence.

Namine let out a little chuckle as well. Lea turned to her with the most hurt expression one could offer.

“Not you too, Namine!” he whined. “I thought we had amnesty once we became Somebodies. We’re good now!”

“Not when you’re still being cruel to innocent children.” Namine teased.

“I didn’t even touch them!”

Namine and Kairi looked at each other before dissolving into a round of giggles. Lea deflated, knowing that he was never going to win this argument. Their moment of fun was broken when a loud drum march started to play. The three looked up to find the source of the noise. Sure enough, there was a small group of bunny children with drums and leading a small parade filled with nothing but other blue bunny children. One of the bunnies in front was holding a banner reading ‘Lunch Time 4 Us!’ and waving it quite happily.

 In high, squeaky voices, the leading bunny children started to chant; 

“Who’s the leader of the club that’s made for you and me!”

On cue, another round of tiny voices shouted as they joined the parade, “La-de-da la-de-da la-de-da-da-da!”

“Hey there, hi there, ho there! You’re as welcome as can be!”

“La-de-da la-de-da la-de-da-da-da!”

The chant continued as the parade marched their way through the square and into a cafe. 

“Well…” Kairi was the first to muse, “Guess we’re not going to eat in there.”

“Must be lunchtime.” Namine noted with a grin.

“Must be something.” Lea decided as he scratched the back of his head. All the while, the bunny children continued with their march.

“Uncle Mick!”

“Papa too!”

“Uncle Mick!”

“Papa too!”

“Forever let us hold our ice creams high!”

“High, high, high!”

“Come along and sing a song, and join the jamboree!”

“La-de-da la-de-da la-de-da-da-da!”

The bunny children holding up the rear, who hadn’t entered the cafe yet, let out a cheer before slamming the cafe door behind them. The square was suddenly rather quiet without them all making a ruckus.

“I, for one, am glad they’re gone for now.” Lea told the girls. “That is not a song I want to have memorized.”

Kairi gave Namine a wicked glance before turning back to Lea. She didn’t give any warning before she opened her mouth to sing, “Who’s the leader of the club that’s made for you and me?”

Lea suddenly went pale. “Kairi, no!”

“Hey there, hi there, ho there!”

“Kairi! I’m warning you!”

“You’re as welcome as can be!”

“This is your last chance!”

“Come along and sing a song, and join the jamboree!”

“That’s it, get over here so I can teach you a lesson!” Lea hollered as he barrelled at Kairi. Kairi herself let out a little yelp before bolting away. She then let out a joyful laughter as Lea chased her around the square, and out to a different area. Namine considered following them, but decided it was best they get their energy out. There certainly wasn’t any shortage of it in this world.

Instead, Namine made herself comfortable at a nearby bench and simply relaxed. After being accustomed to the energy of the world again, she carefully pulled out her drawing pad, some colored pencils, and did one of the most relaxing hobbies she had yet to replace; drawing.

She started with the square itself. The bench she was on was facing a nice gazebo, which in turn was framed rather well by the entrance to Disney Castle behind it. She wondered for a moment if she had enough colors in her palette to capture the atmosphere just right. If not, maybe it was time to experiment with cross hatching. As she got into her familiar, comfortable groove, Namine started to hum a few bars of the bunny kid’s march. It was a pretty catchy tune. She’d have to ask Riku if he was familiar with it- he came around Disney Town often enough to visit the King, he must have heard it at least once.

Quite some time passed as she drew. Namine didn’t even notice when some of the bunny children started to file out of the cafe. A little pack of four started to play in the gazebo. It looked like a rather fun game of hide and seek. Namine didn’t realize that she had started to draw the bunny children playing until she had finished shading the first blue bunny. She blinked at her page with mild bewilderment. She had heard stories about ‘automatic writers’ and how they would write whole letters by hand while supposedly controlled by some outside force. She didn’t personally believe them until she saw the blue bunnies in her drawing. It was like she didn’t even recognize her own ability.

“Hey fellas!” a high pitched voice said from beside her, succeeding in scaring Namine nearly out of her wits. She quickly looked to her left and saw one of the bunny kids standing next to her. Namine flinched when it whistled to get the other two’s attention.

Its siblings (she assumed they were all siblings, at least) immediately stopped what they were doing. They took a glance at Namine, then at the bunny beside her, then started to bounce on over. They stopped at her feet. Namine was so bewildered at the past minute’s events that she had to take another moment to register what was going on.

“Oh! Hello there.” she finally greeted. “Would you like to see what I drew?”

All four bunny children nodded their heads- the one that had surprised Namine had gone down with the rest of its siblings. There was power in numbers, and she had a feeling those blue bunnies were well aware of it. Despite herself, Namine carefully turned her drawing around for them to see. Her work was immediately accepted with a round of ‘oh’s and ‘aww’s. It made her heart flutter with pride. She felt rather selfish when the four bunnies decided to just up and leave without another word. Namine sighed, hoping that they’d come back, before going back to finish up a few bits on the drawing.

Her wish was granted quite a few minutes after. Just as she was finishing up her drawing, the four bunny children from earlier were coming back to her. At least, she assumed they were the same as before- it was hard to tell when those blue bunnies all looked the same. Regardless, Namine greeted them all with a bright smile.

“Hello again,” she said, “How can I help you?”

The bunny children all stared at the one bunny standing in the back. It was bashfully hiding something as it stepped forward. The other bunnies let out a pleased ‘ta-da!’ while the bashful bunny presented Namine with a flower. It wasn’t anything too special, probably plucked from the caste gardens based on its hue.

“O-oh, thank you.” Namine stammered. “But I don’t need-”

She stopped dead in her tracks- the pitiful, pleading faces of the bunnies made it increasingly hard to say no. After a moment of mental wrestling, Namine offered a smile.

“It’s very lovely.” she said  as she carefully took the flower. “Thank you. I’ll use it as a commission.”

The bunny children suddenly perked up. A new word had been spoken to them- one that they could already tell held the promise for more lovely drawings. They looked back up at her expectantly. Namine didn’t think herself that good at charades, but she could almost gather what they wanted to ask her.

“A commission is when you give something to someone in return for their goods. In this case, the flower is your commission for me drawing your picture earlier. Do you understand now?”

The bunny children looked at each other for a moment. They seemed to have a moment of revelation before turning back to Namine with a wide grin. In unison, the bunnies happily nodded.

“That’s good.” Namine smiled, giving them a happy nod of her own back to them.

Giving a grin that seemed rather mischievous in hindsight, the blue bunny children bounded off in different directions to do whatever it was they planned on next. Namine wasn’t aware that she was going to be a part of this plan. Not yet. For now, she decided to put her drawing things away to go find Lea and Kairi. She hadn’t seen them since they ran out a good hour ago. Not that she expected anything bad to happen to them, but still. You never knew in their world.

Thankfully, both Kairi and Lea were safe when Namine found them. Apparently they had raced each other to the go-kart track, which then proceeded to be an even more heated race between them. Namine had caught them at the end of their sixth round.

“Who won?” Namine curiously asked.

“I did!” Kairi boasted at the same time Lea mumbled, “She did.”

Namine afforded a small laughter. With the three of them together again, they decided that it was likely time to get something to eat. On their way back to the square, a large hoard to bunny children came bounding to the trio. They bunnies were so packed together that it was just a sea of rippling blue. Not sure of what to do, or where the bunnies were even heading, Lea, Namine, and Kairi simply stopped in their tracks.

“I don’t like how they’re in a stampede.” Lea murmured to the girls. “Who do you think they’re going to terrorize? That’s a terrorizing formation if I’ve ever seen it.”

The girls just shrugged, but they got their answer soon enough. The hoard stopped right at Namine’s feet. A fact that didn’t surprise her nearly as much until a few started to stack on top of each other. They continued to stack until the bunny child on top was at about Namine’s eye level.

“Hi!” the top bunny child happily said, giving a wave so energetic that it made the tower wobble a bit. The bunny didn’t give anyone time to react before pulling out a picture of their own. It was rather crudely done, but it was still easy to depict a black cat with a pink shirt and matching little hat. Putting on a wide grin, the bunny child told Namine, “This is our mama.”

“We want to surprise her!” one of the bunny kids in the stack said.

“Please draw us for Mama.” another bunny said.

“Draw us for Mama! Draw us for Mama!” the rest of the hoard chanted.

For the longest time, Namine was speechless. When she did try to say something, it only came out in a strangled, “I…” as she looked to Kairi and Lea. They seemed just as overwhelmed as she was.

The bunny children must have been expecting this because a few others formed a second stack. This time, the bunny on top was holding a rather large sack that, when shook, sounded like munny twinkling inside.

“We’ll commission you.” the bunny at the top of the second stack grinned.

“It’s all our allowance!” the hoard cheered at once. “63,000 munny!”

Lea let out a low whistle. “That’s a LOT of Mega-Potions…”

Indeed it was, and it only caused more conflict inside Namine. Why was it so hard to say no to troublemakers when they were being so earnest? Maybe it’s because the bunny children were still just that- children. They weren’t perfect, but when they put their heart into something, it was all they desired. It was admirable. It was hard to say no to.

“Sure.” Namine then decided, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to take it back later. “Why not?”

The bunny children cheered.