#probably would do noone for purple if i ever did this again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ironychan · 1 year ago

Text

Homecoming

Part One - Arrival

In one universe, Maria Scorfano died when her son was less than two years old. In another, she decided to go back to Portorosso and ask her brother for help. I guess this is for @writer652

---

Maria had her story prepared by the time she got to shore. She'd been telling it to herself all the way from the island, and parts of it even counted as true. She and Giancarlo really had gone to Cannes and then all the way to the teeming metropolis of Marsiglia, him working as a diver and her getting odd jobs wherever she could find them. Then Alberto had come along, and the two had been forced to find a place to settle down for a while, but that lifestyle didn't suit them and they'd soon found they were growing apart.

She wasn't going to admit to her brother that she'd finally just up and left, however – that would lead to a litany of I told you so that Maria did not want to hear. Instead, she was going to tell people that Giancarlo had died by drowning. That would accomplish two things: it would keep Massimo from going to look for him, and it would make him doubt the connection to the sea monster, if indeed he'd ever made it. Maria liked to hope he hadn't.

She brought her battered little boat into the town harbour at around noon. The sky was grey and gloomy that day, and the wind was chilly – it would probably rain later, and that could ruin everything. Alberto had to be kept dry, at least until they got indoors. If Massimo saw that... but Maria couldn't bear to finish that thought. She simply couldn't let it happen.

As the side of the boat bumped against the stone quay below the Pescheria, Maria's baby son was leaning heavily against her with the fingers of his left hand in his mouth, half-asleep. Every time she'd had second thoughts about running away, Maria had to remind herself that Alberto deserved better. She couldn't stay out there on that little island with him and his father, away from the world. This child would need things Giancarlo was clearly unwilling to give him. Maria wasn't sure she could do so, either, but at least she was willing to try.

The threatening weather meant not many people were outside to see her tie the little boat to the quay, and those who were did not look particularly interested in her. She pulled her threadbare shawl closer around herself and her child and climbed out, the damp stones freezing cold on her bare feet.

In her arms, Alberto whined about being woken from his nap, and pulled his fingers out of his mouth. They were damp from being sucked on, and were tipped with claws and purple scales. Maria quickly dried them on her shawl so that they looked human again.

“There you go,” she said, and kissed the top of his head. “Let's go meet Uncle Massimo.”

She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. Even with her story prepared, she knew this was going to be a bloodbath. Massimo had thought Giancarlo was a fool and hadn't been shy of saying so, even to his face. He was never going to let Maria forget that he'd been right, even if he did think Giancarlo was dead, and as Giancarlo himself had repeatedly reminded her, he was going to be livid that she'd run off. Maria was just going to have to brace herself and try to ride it out.

She climbed the steps and opened the Pescheria door – and there she stopped short.

It had used to be Maria's job to mind the shop during the day. With her having been away, she had fully expected to see Massimo himself behind the register, but he was not. Instead, there was a woman with curly red hair, wrapping up fish for Signora Brignole from up the hill.

Of course, Maria realized belatedly. Massimo still had to do the fishing in order to keep the little shop stocked. Obviously he'd had to hire somebody to replace Maria after she disappeared... but she'd known what she was going to say to Massimo. Confronted with this stranger, she didn't know where to start.

“I'll be with you in a moment!” the redhead sang out, putting the fish in a bag for her customer. Signora Brignole looked over her shoulder to see who had come in, and her eyes widened in shock.

“Maria?” the woman asked. “Maria Marcovaldo? Mamma mia! Does Massimo know you're back/”

The red-haired woman looked up sharply and stared at Maria for a moment, taking in her height, her build, her nose. “You're Maria?” she asked. “Massimo's sister?”

Maria opened her mouth, but nothing came out. All she could do was nod.

“Santa Mozzarella!” the woman said, delighted. She came out from behind the counter, moving at a slow waddle as she was heavily pregnant, and offered her hands. “Piacere! I'm Helena Marcovaldo – I'm your sister-in-law!”

That shouldn't have been a shock, either. Massimo was four years older than Maria. If she were running off and getting married, he could, too, and he would consider it his duty to continue the family. And yet... the idea that Massimo's life had just gone on without her left Maria feelinga little ill. Had he even missed her? Or had he not expected anything better of her than to run off with the boyfriend he thought was such a useless fool?

“And who's this?” Helena asked, looking at the baby in Maria's arms. Alberto stared back at her with huge green eyes.

“Oh, what a handsome little man!” Signor Brignole gushed. She elbowed in to tickle Alberto under the chin, but he grabbed the offered finger before she could touch him and stared up at her in turn. He'd never seen a stranger before, Maria realized. The only people Alberto had known in his brief life were his parents – and that reminded her of why she was here.

She found her voice. “This is Alberto,” she said.

“Hello Alberto!” cooed Signora Brignole. “My goodness, what a big boy! How old are you?”

“He's eighteen months,” said Maria.

“So nice to meet you!” the woman said.

Helena rolled her eyes. “Maria, why don't you come on upstairs? I'm sorry, Ottavia, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to close the shop for the afternoon.”

“No, no, that's fine, I quite understand,” said Signora Brignole. “You'll want to catch up, and I've already got what I need. Oh, it's lovely to see you back, dear,” she added to Maria, and kissed her cheek. “And you, little fellow! I look forward to seeing more of you!” She pried her finger out of Alberto's grip and bustled out. Helena shut the door behind her and locked it.

“She'll have told the entire town within half an hour,” Maria said. Another thing she hadn't been counting on. She'd sort of wanted to come back quietly and the disinterest of the people in the piazza had made that, at least, look like a possibility.

“I know!” Helena said. “Come with me.”

She hustled Maria up to the kitchen, or at least came as close to hustling as she could with her swollen abdomen. Once upstairs, Maria set Alberto on the padded bench by the stairs and would have made herself something to eat, but Helena gently took her by the shoulders and escorted her back to sit next to her son.

“I'll fix you something,” she said. “You rest. You look like you've had an awful time.”

“I do?” Maria asked. She didn't feel like she'd been through anything very horrible.

“You... you can't be very warm, in those clothes,” Helena said tactfully.

She was right, wasn't she? Maria was barefoot and dressed in rags, her hair probably looking very much like she'd cut it herself, carrying a baby dressed in a cut-up adult's shirt. She probably looked like she'd spent the past couple of years homeless. Lord knew what the local gossips – liberally fuelled by Signora Brignole – were going to make of her.

It was sort of true, though. She and Giancarlo had never intended to stay on that Island for any great length of time. It was just a place they could come back to if they needed, and be pretty sure nobody would bother them there. Maria wondered what Giancarlo was doing right now. Had he returned yet? Was he angry or sad that Maria had left him? Or relieved that he didn't have to worry about providing for her and Alberto anymore?

Helena put the kettle on to make tea, and pulled a blanket out of a drawer to wrap around Alberto. He'd never been swaddled up so tightly and didn't like it, squirming and whimpering until Maria took pity and set him on the floor. She pulled the blanket around her own shoulders, while Alberto got unsteadily to his feet and began to toddle around the kitchen inspecting things.

“What did Massimo tell you about me?” Maria asked warily.

Helena glanced over her shoulder. “It wasn't anything bad,” she said.

“No, that's not... I'm just curious,” Maria said.

The kettle began to whistle, and Helena took it off the heat and poured the water into the teapot. “He said you ran off with a boy he didn't like very much.”

“Did he say why he didn't like him?”

“Oh, he had all kinds of reasons,” Helena said. “He said the man was a liar and a drunk and probably a thief, that he was good for nothing and would never hold a job and couldn't provide for you. And then he'd get worried,” she added. “He'd say he hoped you were all right, and that your husband was being kind to you, and he wondered if he'd ever see you again.”

It sounded like he hadn't mentioned sea monsters... or maybe that Helena hadn't believed him if he had. That did make Maria feel a little better, though. He would probably be slightly less furious if he didn't know that the sea monster he'd been hunting was also the man Maria had left with.

“What happened?” Helena wanted to know. “I mean you're here, with your son, and this man isn't with you.”

“He died,” said Maria. That was what she'd decided to tell people, but the words popped out and she realized she'd said them too quickly. They hadn't sounded sincere.

Helena was startled, but she rallied. “I'm sorry.”

“No, it's...” Maria took a deep breath, and started from the beginning. It would be good practice, and perhaps this woman could give her some hint of what Massimo's reaction would be. “We went to Cannes. He got a job as a diver, and I picked grapes. We were going to travel, but then Alberto came along and we couldn't.”

“A child changes everything,” Helena said, a hand on her belly.

“Giancarlo drowned. He was diving a wreck and he never came up.” Maria lowered her head as if she were going to cry. She didn't cry easily, but she knew how to pretend. It was a good trick for any young woman to know.

“I'm sorry,” Helena said again. “He was trying to take care of you.”

“I know,” said Maria.

The story hung together: drowning was the most likely way a diver would die, but Maria found herself wanting to squirm. She hadn't expected to feel bad about the lie, mostly because she'd been expecting to tell it to Massimo. She would have told him a lie for the sake of reducing his anger and protecting Giancarlo, but now she had to lie to Helena so that the two wouldn't compare stories and find discrepancies. Maria hadn't thought of that. She hadn't thought about what she would tell everybody else in town. That was going to be something else to deal with.

“Giancarlo,” said Helena. “Massimo never mentioned his name and I didn't ask. It seemed like he really didn't want to talk about it.”

“He probably didn't,” Maria agreed.

Helena put tea and sandwiches on the table, and then excused herself to use the washroom. While she was gone, Alberto toddled back over to his mother and grabbed her skirt, wanting to sit in her lap. She lifted him, and kissed the top of his head.

“What do you think?” she asked. “Did you see her tummy? You're going to have a little cousin soon.”

That made Maria happy, at least. She'd been so worried to think of Alberto growing up on that little island, never meeting his mother's or his father's kind of people. They'd worried at first that he might turn out to be neither human nor sea monster, but something else that both would reject. That didn't seem to have happened, and Maria had started to think about going back to shore, but Giancarlo was still worried. Here, not only would he be among people, he would even have a friend close to his own age.

But there were so many other things to worry about. Maria had thought about how she would hide what Alberto had turned out to be from Massimo – but hiding it from Helena might be more difficult. If the two were both mothers of small children, Helena would probably expect the kids to play in the water or take baths together. Maria would have to think of excuses why not.

While Maria was mulling this over, Alberto found his way to a bucket in the corner of the kitchen and overturned it.

She had been watching his wanderings with one eye and saw the bucket, but had not realized it was full of water and several live lobsters. When she saw the splash she dived to catch it, but she was too late. Alberto squealed in delight as he got soaked and transformed, and the crustaceans made a mad dash for freedom across the wooden floor.

“Cavolo!” Maria exclaimed. She grabbed her soon and looked around in a panic. This could not be happening already. Heaven only knew what Helena would think if she came back into the room and found this little scaly beast wandering around... it might well be worse if Massimo hadn't told her about sea monsters, because then she would have no idea what he was. Maria seized the blanket and wrapped him up, rubbing frantically to dry him off.

“No, no, no!” she told him. “We don't get wet when there's people around!”

Alberto squirmed. He was always harder to hold onto in this form, with his slick scales and thrashing tail.

“We can't let Uncle Massimo and Aunt Helena see!” Maria insisted. She got his face dried off, so that his human features re-emerged and curly hair sprouted where fins had been. Deciding she'd have to be satisfied with that, she hung onto the unhappy toddler with one arm while trying to catch the escaped lobsters with the other. She had one back in the bucket and was reaching under the sink for a second, with Alberto still protesting his treatment, when Helena returned.

At once, Maria stood up, making sure the blanket was tightly around her son. She didn't know if the rest of him had changed back, and didn't dare check. Helena stepped closer, and Maria clutched her wiggling son protectively against her chest.

“What happened?” Helena asked. “I heard him shout, but I can't move fast.”

“Nothing! Nothing!” Maria said hurriedly. “I was distracted and he got into your lobsters.”

“Oh, no!” Helena laughed and held out her arms. “I can't really bend down. Can you grab them? I'll take Alberto.”

Maria held Alberto tighter, and stepped away.

“I can lift him,” Helena assured her, assuming it was her pregnancy that made Maria balk.

“Let me just... rearrange things,” Maria said. She moved Alberto from one arm to the other, pulling the blanket around him to hide his lower half until she could get a look at his feet without Helena seeing. Human – thank goodness! She handed blanket and baby to Helena.

Alberto was astonished to find himself actually being held by a new person. He stared at her for a moment, as if this were positively shattering his young mind, and then reached for her red ringlets.

“Watch his hands. He likes to grab,” said Maria, as she gathered up the lobsters.

“I'm sure he does,” said Helena fondly. “Look at those little talons!”

Maria's head snapped up to check. It wasn't possible, was it? She'd seen his hands and they'd been human... as indeed they still were. Helena was holding Alberto's chubby little fingers in one hand while supporting him with her other arm, and laughing as he grabbed at her shiny wedding ring. She was speaking purely metaphorically.

“There we go,” said Maria, getting the last of the lobsters back in the bucket. She added some water to keep their gills damp, but not too much – she didn't want to risk Alberto tipping it again.

“Thank you.” Helena handed the boy back to her. “Those are a special order, and Massimo would be furious if he had to go find more of them.

Maria shivered a little. Massimo rarely got angry. He bottled it up because he didn't want to be like their father, who would shout and throw things and punch holes in the wall. Giancarlo had used to make him angry, though. He considered it a challenge to tease Massimo almost to the breaking point, even as Maria begged him to stop. She wasn't looking forward to weathering that anger as it was turned on herself. As long as she could keep herself between it and Alberto.

She gave Alberto a bounce. “How was that?” she asked him, as if everything were just fine. “Do you like Auntie Helena?”

Alberto yawned.

“We've turned your old room into a nursery for our baby,” said Helena. “He can nap there if you like.”

“I think that's a good idea,” Maria agreed. “He's had a very exciting day.”

“I'll show you upstairs,” Helena offered.

Maria shook her head. “I know where it is.”

Helena laughed at herself. “Of course you do. Sorry.”

Maria climbed the stairs with Alberto still yawning in her arms. Here was a whole new set of problems, she thought. She'd figured she would come home and, once Massimo was finished shouting at her, it would be as if she'd never left. Indeed, that was one of the things she'd been most afraid of. Her old life had been so boring, with not much scope for improving the situation, and she didn't want to be trapped there until the day she died. It was still not a nice possibility, but she was willing to put up with it, at least for a while, for Alberto's sake.

Now, however, there was this unforeseen complication: Massimo was married and his wife was expecting a child. Once, before Maria had met Giancarlo, she and Massimo had discussed the idea that this house would not be big enough for two families. They'd then agreed that whoever married first got to keep the place and the other would have to move – but then Maria had run off with Giancarlo. The two of them had almost definitely gotten married before Massimo and Helena had, but Maria was pretty sure that her leaving had voided whatever force that agreement might ever had have. The house was still small, and there wasn't going to be space for five. Helena was friendly now, but she might come to resent this intrusion on a space she'd come to think of as her own.

Possibly Maria could at least work at the Pescheria, especially while Massimo and Helena's baby was small enough to need full-time care. Eventually that would probably dry up, though, and they'd need her to go somewhere else. What would she do then?

She would have to live alone. Anybody with her would be somebody she had to hide Alberto's transformations from. That would equally mean she couldn't remarry. She wouldn't be able to depend on anybody else to support her and her child, she would have to do it all herself. That was a deeply daunting task.

The little room where Maria had spent her childhood had been repainted and re-furnished, although much of what was in it was familiar nevertheless. There were toys she recognized, and the cradle that was a family heirloom. Maria set Alberto in it, and covered him with a crocheted blanket that looked new. Perhaps Helena had made it, or somebody else had given it as a gift. Alberto, accustomed to sleeping in the open air, immediately kicked it off.

Maria sighed and sat down in the rocking chair on the other side of the little room. There was just... so much, all at once. It wasn't as bad as she'd felt during the brief half-day when she thought Giancarlo had abandoned her on that little island with a newborn baby, but it was still overwhelming.

But Alberto was curled up in the crib sucking on his fingers again, and his eyes were drifting shut. He, at least, felt safe... maybe just because Mamma was here, but for the moment, that was enough.

Maria let her own eyes close. She'd left in a hurry as soon as Giancarlo was gone, and had barely slept the previous night for wondering and worrying. Maybe she could take a little bit of a nap as well.

She woke up hearing footsteps on the stairs and Alberto whimpering.

“There were both sleeping last time I looked,” said Helena softly.

“No, the baby is awake,” replied Massimo.

Maria's eyes flew open. There was her brother, following Helena into the room. He didn't look angry, but then, he didn't know Maria was awake. Alberto, however, was very much so, and had been standing up in the cradle trying to get his mother's attention. Now that somebody was here, he sat down heavily on his bottom and began putting some real effort into howling as if the world were coming to an end. Maria quickly sat up, and paused to stretch her neck and shoulders. “I'm coming, Alberto,” she said through a yawn. “I'm coming.”

“I think he's wet,” said Helena.

The word sent a jolt of lightning down Maria's back. She leaped to her feet and dashed across to snatch Alberto up and wrap him in the blanket. If his nappy had leaked, she needed to cover any part of him that had transformed. Fortunately, nothing had: the past year and a half had seen Maria get very good at folding and tying nappies. She bounced him and pretended nothing odd had just happened.

“Did Mamma fall asleep and leave you all alone?” she asked, hating herself for cooing the way Signora Brignole had. “Don't worry, I'll take care of it right away.”

She looked up to check what her hosts thought, and met Massimo's eyes. Here it came. She was going to hear about how foolish she was for running off with Giancarlo, how she'd selfishly left Massimo to run the Pescheria all by himself, and possibly how he was determined to spit that sea monster on a harpoon and hang it on the wall of the shop...

Massimo looked at her silently for a moment, then put his arm around her and the baby and pulled them both in for a hug. He held them there until Alberto began to complain loudly. Then, with evident reluctance, he loosed his grip and allowed Maria to step back.

“Helena said your husband is dead,” he said.

“Yes,” said Maria, waiting for him to call her out on it, waiting for him to point out that a sea monster couldn't drown.

“I'm sorry,” he said.

Maria blinked. “You're sorry?”

“I'm sorry I drove you away.”

“You didn't drive me away!” Maria stepped back, shocked. “I left!”

“You left because I didn't approve of him,” said Massimo.

“I left because Giancarlo didn't want to stay here and neither did I!” Maria huffed. “It had nothing to do with you. Now, I need to change the baby.”

“I can do it,” Helena offered. “I need the practice.”

“No,” said Maria firmly. “I'll do it myself. Do you have extra nappies?”

Helena brought her one, and Maria thanked her, then shooed the couple out of the room so she could clean Alberto up. She told them that just because he was only a year old didn't mean he didn't deserve privacy. After they'd left, she did the job as quickly as possible, then scooped Alberto up and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“You're just fine,” she told him. “Everything's going to be just fine.”

She wasn't sure she believe that, but... Massimo wasn't angry? He thought she'd run off because of him? Surely he must realize whose son Alberto was. Maybe he just didn't want to get angry in front of his wife? Or perhaps he wouldn't bother because he figured Maria would leave soon, for all the reasons she'd already thought about it.

“What are we going to do, Alberto?” she asked.

The baby gurgled. Of course, he didn't know – he was counting on her. Maria sighed and straightened her back, and went downstairs to the kitchen.

Massimo was standing by the stove, with pasta boiling, while Helena chopped up potatoes on the counter next to him. Maria managed a nervous smile as she stepped off the last stair, her son still in her arms. “Can I help?” she asked.

“No, we're fine,” said Helena. “You sit down.”

Massimo stirred the pasta, then left it and sat down on the bench, next to where Maria had settled. He offered his hand to Alberto, and the baby reached out and grabbed it in both of his. His eyes were the widest yet as he contemplated the giant shape of his uncle. He grinned with his tiny white teeth, and babbled something nonsensical.

“How old is he?” Massimo asked.

“A year and a half,” said Maria, and braced herself. The boy's age would leave his father's identity in little doubt.

“He has your eyes.”

Maria nodded, closing them. Giancarlo had pointed that out more than once – Alberto had inherited her green eyes. It seemed to be one of the only things he liked about his son. “We'll be out of the house before your child arrives,” she promised.

“This is your home,” said Massimo.

Maria opened her eyes again and stared at him. “We agreed the house wasn't big enough for two families,” she protested.

“We'll figure it out,” said Massimo.

“You can stay as long as you need to,” Helena added.

Maria looked from her brother to his wife and back again. This made no sense. For two years she'd been listening to Giancarlo talk about how furious Massimo would be if he ever saw them again, how he'd shout at Maria and probably skewer Giancarlo on sight... was he really not angry at all? Had Maria really so misunderstood her own brother?

“You aren't angry with me?” she asked.

“No,” he said.

Massimo didn't seem to want to elaborate, so it was Helena who explained. “For a long time he was angry with himself. He thought it was his fault you left.”

“It wasn't,” said Maria. “It was my decision. Giancarlo asked me to go with him, and I went.” Maybe on some level, she felt like she deserved to have people angry with her.

“You thought that would make you happy,” said Helena. “Maybe it was a mistake, but if so, you deserve a place to start over from.”

“This is your home,” Massimo repeated. “We will not turn you out of it.”

“Our baby will have a cousin to play with,” Helena added.

“We could use the help around the place, especially while the baby is small,” Massimo said.

“I don't want to be in the way,” Maria protested

“If you really thought you'd be in the way, you wouldn't have come,” said Helena. “You came for help. We want to help you.”

The pasta began to boil over, and Massimo got up and ran to turn down the heat. “I am making your favourite,” he told Maria. “Trenette al Pesto. With the pignoli.”

For some reason, that was the breaking point. Tears suddenly welled up in Maria's eyes. She felt like the prodigal son from the Bible – she'd expected to be met with anger for running off and wasting part of her life, but instead she'd found only kindness and gratitude. Had the son cried over his father's reaction, she wondered, as the hot drops spilled over.

Alberto had seen his mother cry before, and had always found it distressing. He reached up to wipe at her tears the way she always did at his, and she took his tiny hand and quickly wiped the damp away with her shawl before it could start a transformation. “No, no, darling, I'm not sad,” she promised. “They're happy tears.”

Massimo served out the pasta, and they sat down to eat. Maria hadn't had Trenette al Pesto in months. She'd tried to make it a couple of times, but it had never turned out as well as it did at home, where the basil was fresh and there was a proper stove. This tasted like her childhood. It brought back a hundred meals with their parents, feeding the cats under the table, being the baby of the family instead of having to care for one. The tears almost spilled over again.

This time Alberto didn't notice, because he, sitting in his mother's lap, was focused on the strange stuff on the plate in front of him. He grabbed a handful of noodles and, before Maria could stop him, stuffed it in his mouth.

“Alberto!” she exclaimed, her own mouth still full.

The baby squealed happily through his mouthful, pesto dribbling down his chin. Maria put her fork down and tried to push the dish away, but Alberto grabbed it and pulled it back, spilling it down the front of him. That done, he continued grabbing handfuls to eat.

“He has your taste in pasta, too,” said Massimo. He got up and prepared another plate for her.

Alberto got cheese and basil all over himself and on his mother's arms and skirt, giggling and kicking his fat little feet. At least some of the food seemed to get in his mouth and he evidently enjoyed it, so Maria decided to be happy with that. Helena got up and wet a cloth in the sink, then approached.

“Let's get him cleaned up,” she said.

“No! I'll do it.” Maria snatched the cloth from her and moved Alberto to the bench, where she could keep her body between her child and her relatives as she cleaned food off him. As soon as any scales popped up, or any hint of purple or blue appeared, she would dry the spot on her shawl. “There we go!” she said, lifting him again. “Not quite all clean, but probably as clean as you're going to get for now.” She turned around and smiled at Massimo and Helena, hoping it looked sincere. “Sorry, I'm just used to doing everything by myself.”

Massimo nodded once. “You don't have to anymore,” he said.

He really wasn't angry, was he? Maria decided to take a chance. “I was wondering... did you ever catch that sea monster?”

“No,” said Massimo, sitting down again. “I haven't seen it in years. Maybe I did imagine it after all.”

Maria almost gasped. The angriest she'd ever seen Massimo was when she and Giancarlo had pretended to make fun of him for spotting a sea monster, hoping to throw him off the trail. The idea that he'd given up on that was shocking. Maybe... maybe everything was really going to be okay.

That night, Massimo and Helena made a bed for Maria on the floor of the nursery. She could have put Alberto in the cradle, but after they'd walked in to look at him earlier, she preferred for him to curl up with her. Protecting him was going to be a constant challenge.

But for the moment, he was safe, and so was she. Maria patted his small back and shut her eyes, happy to be home.

#pixar luca #fanfiction #alberto scorfano #alternate universe #massimo marcovaldo #maria scorfano #homecoming

21 notes · View notes

stiles-banshees · 2 years ago

Text

Good Things Come in Threes: Chapter One

Summary: Growing up on the East Coast her whole life, Summer Hastings always longed for more. The niece of Penny Benjamin would often fly out to the West Coast every summer to visit her aunt and cousin. Summer didn't realize how much her life would change that night she called her aunt to book her plane ticket when she was 18 years old when a certain Jake Seresin answered the phone.

Series Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

Warnings: 18+, swearing

Word Count: 2.6k

Summer doesn’t run. Ever. Today, however, appeared to be an exception. Hence, why the twenty-four-year-old woman was urgently changing into a cropped gray tanktop with high-waisted, dark-washed denim shorts. She paired her rushed-look with flip-flops, considering Phoenix sent her an SOS text message five minutes ago. She ran down the stairs brushing her hair out immediately after brushing her teeth, deciding to hurriedly grab the bagel Penny left for her before leaving to go shopping. Summer is just about to pull out of the driveway and speed over to the naval base her friend has called home for the past week when she hears a knock on her window. The girl jumped in her seat, feeling her heart stop for a beat. She looked at the culprit standing on the opposite side of her window and relaxed.

“What the fuck, Phoenix?” Summer gasped once she rolled down her window.

Summer wasn’t one to call her friends by their callsigns unless it was something serious. It was almost like a silent code for them to ensure things were okay. Which is why Phoenix was always Nat, or Rooster was always Bradley. The only person she considered close to her that she actively called by their callsign was Maverick.

“We’re going to the beach for training today. I figured you could come since it’s a public space.” Her friend grinned behind her sunglasses.

“How dare you abuse the SOS protocol?” Summer shook her head, shutting off the car before making her way back into the Benjamin household to grab her beach go-bag from the closet near the front door.

“Which suit do you have in there? Purple or orange?” Nat asked as the two started their five-minute journey to the Hard Deck.

Penny did mention Maverick planning to stop by while she goes over the books.

“Both, but I’m not changing into either. I’ll probably watch whatever you guys do today and help Penny if she needs it.” The woman shrugged, hiking her bag on her shoulder for it to stay.

“Why not? We can go swimming after.” Nat nudged Summer’s shoulder.

“If you have time, sure.” She promised.

The two had been silent for a bit before Summer spoke up again.

“How has training been? I know you can’t tell me much, but you’re okay, right?” She asked quietly.

“It hasn’t been too bad,” The aviator responded. “Hangman and Rooster almost got into a fight. Twice.”

Summer froze in her spot on the sidewalk, “What? About what?”

“Oh, just about their flying tactics,” Phoenix shrugged, tugging her friend along. “Rooster said something about Hangman’s wingman that died, then Hangman mentioned Goose. It was awful.”

Summer was stunned. She couldn’t recall the men saying such vile things when she was around. From what it seems like, the aviators seem to put the work talk on pause when she’s around. Now she’s starting to think that may do more harm than good.

“They’re okay now, right?” She asked quietly.

“As much as I want to tell you they are, there’s a reason why we’re doing a team-building exercise today.” Phoenix rubbed Summer’s back as they made their way around the Hard Deck to get to the beach out back.

Summer made her way over to the table where her aunt was apparently crunching numbers. She was not. Penny looked up when she noticed the shadow looming over her.

“What are you doing here? I figured you’d be sleeping until noon.” Penny laughed.

“Phoenix kidnapped me.” Summer shrugged, her friend’s callsign feeling a bit weird on her tongue.

She had been trying to alternate when to use her friend’s callsigns or their actual names. Remembering the bagel Penny had left for her that morning, she called out to her raven-haired friend, that was being chased down by Rooster. He was trying to throw her into the ocean. The man’s head snapped over to where Summer was standing, and he let Phoenix come back over.

“Split this with me?” Summer offered.

Phoenix took the half her best friend offered and gave her a big hug.

“I knew there was a reason I kept you around.” She sighed, taking a bite.

Summer shook her head, scanning the beach to see it littered with aviators in their little corner.

“No bagel for me, Hastings?” Rooster called over to her.

The girl shrugged, sitting on the deck while her friend bolted off almost immediately after finishing hers. She noticed Hangman and Coyote weren’t around yet, but neither was Maverick.

“When are they supposed to start?” Summer turned to ask Penny.

“Twelve,” Penny said simply.

“It’s ten-thirty.” Summer said out loud.

“I’m guessing they wanted a little fun beforehand. Maybe you should go join them.” Penny winked.

“Did you just wink at me?” Summer narrowed her eyes at her aunt.

Penny looked to her left and smiled when she turned back to her niece.

“Just go get your coffee.” She nodded her head to where she was looking.

Summer turned to see Hangman holding a water bottle and an iced coffee cup, all while sporting a backpack. He had sunglasses like Phoenix, wearing shorts and a white tee shirt before he decided to ditch the shirt entirely.

“I think I’ll stay here, actually. There’s shade.” Summer smiled awkwardly, finally dropping her beach bag next to her.

“You have fun with that. I’m gonna go talk to Mav because I can, like a grownup.” Penny dogeared the page she had been working on in her notebook before stalking off after her boyfriend showed up.

Summer watched her aunt walk off and then noticed the blond aviator start to make his way over to her after dropping his things with Coyote. The coffee cup in his hand is dripping condensation, letting her know it’s still fresh.

“Almost didn’t recognize you without your sundresses, sweetheart.” Hangman chuckled as he sat next to her.

“Yeah, I didn’t really get a chance to wake up this morning. Phoenix kinda ambushed me.” She said, trying not to focus on their thighs touching.

“Which is why I got you this,” He hands her the cold drink. “Penny told me you were helping her late last night, and then I heard Phoenix talking about grabbing you this morning.”

Summer hesitantly sipped, knowing she’d drink it even if she didn’t like it because he’d been so nice to her. To her surprise, the coffee is good and her usual.

“Thanks, Hangman,” She hummed in delight, taking another sip.

“Summer, you can call me Jake.” He reminded her.

“I know, but you’re working. And when you’re working, you’re Hangman.” She shrugged.

He nodded, hearing her words but not really understanding her concept. The two watch the other aviators running around the beach.

“Do you wanna visit base later? We can watch a movie or something in the lounge.” Hangman suggested.

“I’m supposed to have a girl’s night with Phoenix. I think she staked a claim on the lounge for tonight.” Summer smiled lightly, feeling bad for having to turn him down.

“Well…since the lounge is a common space, I could always crash girl’s night.” He smirked.

“Phoenix would kill you.” Summer laughed.

“You’ve only spent time with her and Penny lately.” Hangman knocked his shoulder into hers. The feeling of their skin touching made Summer nervous.

“You guys are here for a mission, Jake.” Her eyes widened once she realized her minor slip-up. “How’d you know my coffee order, anyway?”

“I’ve been waiting six years to get to know you. As far as I know, I’m only here for a few more weeks, so I’m trying to take advantage of the situation.” He explained. “And I texted Penny.”

Summer’s heart fluttered.

“Fine. I’m sure Nat won’t make a huge fuss about it if you show up. Just don’t be annoying and bring some more people to crash. I don’t want anyone third-wheeling.” She huffed.

“Right, we wouldn’t want poor Phoenix to be all alone.” Hangman teased.

“I actually meant you, Lieutenant.” Summer grinned, her straw caught between her teeth.

He shook his head at the girl, moving his sunglasses to sit atop his head. Summer snatched the pair of sunglasses as soon as his hand left them. She put them on while he watched her amusedly.

“How do I look?” She asked, surprised he didn’t take the glasses back.

“As cool as you look with them on, I prefer your face when you’re not hiding your eyes behind a pair of sunglasses.” He answered.

Summer huffed, taking the glasses off and then hooking them on her top by putting one of the arms of the glasses in her shirt.

“Are you trying to steal them?” Hangman asked, not even trying to hide that he just looked at her chest.

“I’ll give them back before Mav has you start whatever he’s planning on.” She shrugged.

Penny walked back over to the two and sat to go over her very empty notebook.

“He’s not bothering you, is he?” Penny asked her niece like Hangman wasn’t there.

“He’s been on his best behavior, actually. He hasn’t even asked to help me apply sunscreen.” Summer laughed.

“Did you put on sunscreen?” Penny gave her a pointed look.

Summer quietly stood, grabbing her bag to retrieve her spray sunscreen. Hangman watched the young woman spray her arms, legs, and midriff. She was about to ask Penny to spray her back before he offered assistance. Summer pulled her hair to the side while Hangman ensured her back got the most coverage possible. He even remembered to get the small of her back. Penny carefully watched the two, ready to scold Hangman if needed. Hangman spun Summer around and plucked his sunglasses from her top.

“Missed a spot, sweetheart.” He grinned cheekily before spraying atop her collarbones.

Summer blushed, and once he was done, she grabbed her face sun cream from her bag. She applied a generous amount to her palm before applying it to herself. When she was done, she squeezed out more and launched herself for Hangman’s face. Penny laughed hard once she realized what was going on.

“Hey! I didn’t signup for this.” He squeezed his eyes shut to avoid getting any sun cream in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Hangman. Did you already put sunscreen on?” Summer asked, knowing very well that he didn’t.

The man grumbled and stopped fussing, allowing the young woman to rub the lotion in. She handed him the spray can once she was done, and he quickly sprayed himself down, only to give the can back so she could spray his back for him.

A few feet away, Phoenix noticed this whole exchange. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her best friend. Phoenix never really trusted anyone that Summer had dated over the years. Knowing that Hangman could be her best friend’s next boyfriend made her sick to her stomach. Phoenix knows Hangman. She knows how cruel and selfish he is. He’s not good enough for a girl like Summer. If Hangman hurt Summer, Phoenix would be the one to swoop in and fix everything. With the help of Rooster, of course. She just hoped her friend would make the right choice.

“Seems like everyone’s here! Why don’t we start training earlier to get it over with?” Maverick asked, his voice raised enough for Hangman to hear him.

“You better cheer for me.” He pointed at Summer before running off, his sunglasses in his hand.

Summer turned to face her aunt after hearing her blow out a whistle.

“What?” Summer asked as she plopped on the bench across from Penny.

“Nothing,” Penny paused. “I never realized applying sunscreen could be so hot.”

Summer nearly gagged, her face turning so red you’d think she was already sunburnt.

“Forgetting about that, what does Maverick have them doing today?” Summer changed the subject.

“I think he said something about dogfight football? They’re supposed to play offense and defense at the same time.” Penny explained, finally writing stuff down in her notebook.

Summer hummed, looking over at the group of huddled aviators. When she locked eyes with Phoenix, she waved excitedly, blowing the other woman a kiss. Phoenix pretended to catch it and blew one back. Summer noticed Rooster making kissy faces at her after her moment with Phoenix and laughed.

“Hastings!” Summer paled when she realized Maverick was the one calling her name.

She looked at Penny for help, and the older woman laughed.

“Chill out. Maverick just wants you to keep score.” She pushed her niece in the direction of the aviators.

Summer grabbed her coffee before making her way over to the big group.

“Think you could keep score, kid?” Maverick asked as she made a makeshift cupholder in the sand.

Summer nodded, pulling her phone out of her back pocket to open up her notes app, and then plopped herself down in the sand. Maverick split the group into two teams, Rooster and Phoenix, lucky enough to be on the same one.

“Since we’re you’re favorites, does that mean our team automatically gets two points?” Rooster joked.

“Not today, Rooster.” Summer wrinkled her nose at him.

“But I’m your best friend!” Phoenix begged her, throwing her hands in the air.

“Rules are rules, Phoenix. Ain’t that right, baby?” Hangman winked at Summer.

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Bagman.” She grinned at him.

Five minutes later, the group of aviators was playing dogfight football. Rooster was the first to score for his team, while Coyote made the first point for his. Ten minutes later, both groups somehow ended up tied already. Twenty minutes later, Hangman scored and dedicated it to Summer. Penny laughed when she saw how red the younger woman’s face looked. Two hours later, the game was over, and surprisingly, Bob was the one to make the winning point for Phoenix’s team. Phoenix ran up to Summer, completely drenched in sweat.

“Swim?” She asked.

“Do you need a suit?” Summer asked.

“I brought one. Let’s go change.” Phoenix grabbed Summer’s hand, dragging her along to get the beach bag.

Most of the aviators started to go back to base, only a few staying to spend time at the beach.

“Rooster, come swim with us!” Summer yelled once she noticed he was about to leave.

Rooster dropped his bag back in the sand before making his way to the two women. Hangman also decided to stay at the beach after he heard about Summer’s plans. Coyote gave him a look when he realized why his friend wanted to stay longer.

“Dude, you just said you needed a nap.” Coyote shook his head.

“And now I wanna go swimming. I can change my mind.” Hangman lightly hit his friend’s shoulder.

“I’m starting to think we should change your callsign to Loverboy.” Coyote laughed.

Hangman glared at his friend and heard Summer, Phoenix, and Rooster running out of the bar. Coyote took this as a way to slip away and started to the base. Summer had changed from her crop top and shorts to her favorite purple bikini. Phoenix was sporting the same one, just in black. Rooster abandoned his sunglasses before chasing after his two friends into the ocean.

Hangman watched the three friends, Phoenix jumping on Summer’s back and Rooster splashing around with them. He dropped his sunglasses into his backpack before approaching the trio.

“You guys have room for one more?” Hangman called out to them.

Summer nearly dropped Phoenix when she heard his voice.

“Sorry, Bagman, you can’t join our throuple.” Phoenix rolled her eyes as she dropped off Summer’s back.

“Nat, don’t be mean.” Summer nudged her friend. “You can join us, Jake.” She offered him a kind smile.

Hangman grinned, happy knowing the pretty girl wouldn’t mind his company.

“Jake? When did that become a thing?” Rooster eyed them suspiciously.

“Seresin has a thing for Hastings.” Nat huffed.

“We’re friends,” Summer crossed her arms.

“Best friends.” Hangman exhaled almost painfully.

“Right, whatever. Do you guys wanna play chicken? We have enough people now.” Rooster changed the subject.

“I call Summer.” The blond grinned.

“Shocker,” Phoenix muttered, walking deeper into the water.

Here is a link to my masterlist if you'd like to read any of my other writings or if you would like to send requests :)

#jake seresin fic #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x oc #hangman top gun #hangman fic #hangman x oc #jake seresin #hangman

41 notes · View notes

zyafics-recs · 12 days ago

Text

reblogging comment review from @zyafics

everytime i read this series i feel like im entering the battlefield 🚬😮‍💨my annotations below hehe ⬇️

It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?

ur writing has such PERSONALITY in it, i swear to god when i read this in beta, i was so in awe

Your first thought had been telling Topper, your only real family left, but he was as much Rafe’s as he was yours, and when it came down to it, he was still his best friend. Loyal to him since they were five, and jesus knows how he’d react if he found out about this. He’d most likely freak the fuck out and tell Rafe everything, thinking he was doing the right thing, or worse, letting it slip to Ruthie.

this parallels perfectly to the first chapter where topper called rafe when reader was leaving, so not only is this paragraph giving us an at-point breakdown, but it's referring evidence that topper would slip and tell rafe

It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.

their lives are so intertwined that reader doesn't know who to turn to when she needs independence 😭 oh curse rafe and his big dick

Today, it was just you, a few kids and teens dotted along the beach with oversized trash bags. It wasn’t even noon, but the sun felt like it was scorching you alive. It was laughable, really, standing under this blistering sun with a cheap trash bag and an endless stretch of sand to clean.

this specific paragraph i wanted to highlight because i thought it was so descriptive and imaginative, but simplistic in a way that didn't feel like it was purple prose.

The kids were watching you again, with that look of curiosity. You couldn’t look them in the eye. It wasn’t their fault. They just didn’t understand that sometimes the grown-ups didn’t know what they were doing either.

the last line EATS BITCH IT EATS

“You should sit down.”

oh suck a dick

It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.

in love to hate omg

Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”

THIS IS SO COLD BUT IT SHOWED HOW THEIR RELATIONSHIP IS SO WELL, HOW INTERTWINED THEY ARE WITH ONE ANOTHER

And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you.You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.

i would crashout

Sofia—the one who looked like she'd been ripped off from some perfect postcard, all wide-eyed sweetness and gentle smiles. She probably never challenged him, snapped back, or made him want to pull his hair out.

hm.

This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.

they're so toxic and dynamic and i love them

Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.”For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here.

that stopped me cold i had to write something in my diary

His fingers stopped as if your words had made an impact, his lips pressed into a thin line. Your vision blurred as he leaned in, his touch hovering as if to wipe away the tear running down your cheek, but he didn’t, instead, he closed his hand into a fist and drew back, his face just inches from yours. A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall. "Yeah? Get in line."

LISTEN LISTEN LISTEN I'M LISTENING TO BAD OMENS BY 5SOS AND IT'S AT THE BEATS AND WHILE I READ THIS, IT FITTED PERFECTLY OHMYGOD

Rafe drove fast, every rev of the engine matching the churning in your stomach perfectly. You sat there, trembling, the dread building with every mile that passed. You gripped the seatbelt so hard it felt like your entire body might go numb, and stared straight ahead, breathing shallow, trying to ignore the sting in your eyes.

i wanted to highlight this specific paragraph because i adore the writing, something about it made me feel every single atom of the scene

“Would you stop?” His voice softened for the first time, as if he was trying to reach some part of you that he thought still cared. “You look like you haven’t slept in days, like you haven’t eaten anything that wasn’t out of a vending machine. I know you don’t want my help, but can you just stop for a second and—”“And what?” you interrupted.“And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.”Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.”Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.”“You’re not coming in."He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”

HE DIDN'T EXPECT THAT SHIT NO NO

“Yeah, I got someone.”

that's right baby tell em

💌 — ugh, something about this part has been so dynamic, in the way it's constructed, the way it flows so naturally, the way the dialogues are so emotionally-charged but bounces off one another seamlessly. it was like i was watching a perfectly-curated film, where the dialogues were performed by seasoned actors. i love love their arguments. i love how intense it always gets, how they have this push-pull against each other, this hate-love, this line they can't even comprehend nor define. and i love how you written it so beautifully, that you communicate the intensity and depth of this relationship but aggression, tension, and hurt.

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - FIVE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mention of pregnancy; abortion; lack of self-care

You’ve had to make a lot of unfortunate decisions in your life.

Choosing a place for your entire family to rest for eternity, picking the caskets, the headstones—it felt like deciding which curtains to buy for the house, except you were burying your entire close family.

After the crash, your parents were gone instantly, just like that—no goodbyes, no warning, just there one moment and gone the next.

But your sister survived. Three days. You thought maybe that was a sign, she’d live despite everything, and you wouldn’t be left alone.

Two weeks later, the doctors told you it was time, but you couldn’t accept it. You held her hand, begging her to stay, telling her every promise you could think of if she opened her eyes.

When the monitors finally went flat, you couldn’t feel anything but desperation. Rafe had to pull you out of there, his arms locked around you while you kicked and screamed, sobbing and begging your sister not to go, not to leave you here.

You fought him with everything you had left, clawing, crying, pleading for just one more second. You were screaming so loud you didn’t even recognize your voice. Everything good had been ripped away from your hands, there was nothing left of the world you’d known.

After that, you remember sitting in some stuffy funeral home office, skimming through catalogs and hardly seeing the pages through your tears. The caskets all looked the same, the types of wood made no difference to you, fabric linings, all of it felt so wrong.

None of it was a choice you should have to make.

It was unthinkable to be contemplating about gravestones. How could you sum up your family in limited words or dates, let alone choose a font for it?

You just picked something neutral and blank, something that didn’t require thought or emotion because, by then, you had nothing left to give.

Now you were trapped again, caught between a rock and a hard place.

Ruthie—no chance you’d involve her. She’d just see this as another fucked up piece of gossip she could hold over your head, another way to judge or control you. She was “friend” only in the loosest sense of the word.

Kelce was the last person you’d consider turning to for something this serious. He has always been there, but you never got close. He was too much of an instigator, always pushing Rafe to do reckless things he’d regret later, peer pressuring him in ways that made you wonder if he even knew what loyalty meant. He had this weird loyalty to Ruthie, defending her comments as if she was some misunderstood angel when really, she was just… mean.

So that left Sarah.

It felt weird, thinking of her as the person you’d call on for something so serious, she was the only one who felt… safe. She wouldn’t judge, wouldn’t pry, she’d seen what the worst kind of family conflict could do, and she’d keep this private, just for you.

It’s then you recognized how small your world was. How few people were truly yours.

You were pretty sure no one in this town would fully understand, they’d just offer their "advice," as if they knew you, seen what you’d been through.

The truth was, they didn’t know shit. They hadn't seen you holding your sister’s hand, begging her to stay alive. They didn’t know what it was like to bury everything that made you feel like a person, like you belonged somewhere, and have to get up the next day like nothing happened.

Nine days, you would be halfway across the country, and you needed someone. You pictured saying it out loud: “I’m pregnant", just those two words, to someone’s face, you had no idea what to say next.

Maybe you’d tell them that it wasn’t about wanting it gone out of spite or shame, but because you couldn’t bring a child into a world where you felt this alone.

Earlier that morning, you’d stared down at your phone, thumb itching to click on Sarah’s name, like just pressing "call" could fix everything. You despised how needy it made you feel—reaching out, when you’d prided yourself on surviving alone.

You didn’t have much time to ponder about it, because you were stuck at the beach cleanup.

Just like every other summer, another "social responsibility" event that your late father’s foundation insisted you smile through. Even back then, when they were alive, your summers were a carousel of charity galas, fundraisers, endless hours of small talk, and impeccably arranged seating charts.

The board members of the foundation probably thought it would “ground” you—remind you of your privilege, of your “responsibility” to give back. As if a couple of hours and a few bags of garbage would somehow balance the scales. They never seemed to understand how much of it was all for show, this shallow idea that if you looked the part, no one would care to learn more.

But, still, you’d show up. You always did. Smile, make just enough small talk to appease the right people.

Kie, who was so genuinely invested in this whole “save the planet” thing it was almost enviable was there too with JJ, who was running around her as usual, wearing his ‘I’m just here for the ride’ expression but enjoying himself. The love between them made you miss having someone who cared in ways that weren’t just calculated moves.

She waved at you from the shoreline, her eyes moving to the trash bag you were barely half-filling.

You weren’t friends, but if Sarah liked her, you did too.

You offered a faint smile back, tired, because between all the shit you’d been thinking about, you'd forgotten to eat, to drink anything, and every time you leaned down to grab another crumpled plastic bottle or a bit of seaweed-laden garbage, you felt like your legs were about to give out on you.

Every now and then, she would throw a quick, appraising glance your way, like she was expecting you to miraculously become invested in the beach’s ecosystem.

You didn’t have it in you to pretend this was enjoyable today. The “effortless” philanthropy your family loved was a lifestyle you’d never bought into. It didn’t matter how many smiling photos of you had ended up on some charity’s social media—you knew you’d rather be anywhere else.

You had to take a break every few minutes, leaning against a pier post, trying to get yourself together as a few of the younger kids gave you wary glances. You could have left—probably should have.

You managed a tight-lipped smile, giving a thumbs-up that said, Just doing great over here, guys!

You were in a long t-shirt, which hung over your bikini and shorts, the fabric slightly oversized, to help hide what was still a small change in your body. Paranoia was your new best friend, always worrying that someone would notice something different, even if you didn’t have a noticeable bump yet.

Bending down to grab another plastic bottle, you felt a stab of nausea hit you hard, rolling up from your stomach, thick and sour, but you ignored it. Not here. Not now.

You straightened up too fast, and your vision blurred slightly, that familiar sense of vertigo hitting you. You took a shallow breath, ignoring the burn at the back of your throat, your hands shaking slightly as you adjusted the bag slung over your shoulder.

One girl looked up at you with these wide eyes kids like to pull, “Are you okay?”

You smiled, brushing it off as if you weren’t about two seconds away from collapsing. “Of course. Just... need a second.”

Just a few more bags of trash and you’d be able to get back to your car, maybe grab some water from the cooler in the trunk, sit down, and think about it.

This used to be easy, you got a weird kind of enjoyment from these cleanups, running around with your sister, making it a competition to see who could pick up the most trash, laughing until your stomachs hurt over stupid jokes about jellyfish and sunscreen. Back then, this was just one of a thousand little family traditions, one of those things that felt effortless.

Now, sweat dripped down the back of your neck, making your skin prickle uncomfortably.

You’d long given up wiping it away, knowing that it would only come back thicker and hotter the next second. Every instinct told you to run off to the parking lot, and sit in the car with the AC blasting until your body remembered it didn’t hate you.

Leaning down for one last bottle wedged in the sand, your legs wobbled and gave way beneath you. Just like that, your vision was spotty, as if someone had turned down the brightness on the entire beach, and you pitched forward.

Just as you felt yourself going down, a hand caught your arm, pulling you back up.

"Whoa, whoa, you okay?" A teenage boy, maybe sixteen, gripped your arm firmly, keeping you upright.

How much longer could they realistically expect you to go on, plastering on that sweet, dutiful smile? How much “grounding” could one person take?

You blinked, trying to clear the haze in your eyes, "I’m fine. Just a little lightheaded, really, it’s fine,” you insisted, but then a shadow loomed beside you.

Your vision was so foggy that it took seconds for you to register it.

You looked up slowly, feeling a familiar drop in your stomach as you realized who it was.

The last time you’d been this close to him, the two of you had been screaming insults across the room, Lily having to physically step in. She’d forced him to leave before you two killed each other. It was a miracle you hadn’t punched him then and there.

“You should sit down.”

It felt like a sidekick to your chest.

The sound of his voice was grinding on your nerves, and just like that you were stuck back in your dream, a real memory, leaning against him, his hand playing with a strand of your hair as he laughed at something you’d said, the two of you carefree under a golden sunset.

Except this was real.

Rafe was shirtless, with his board tucked under one arm, surf wax staining his fingers, and the sun glinting off his damp skin, like he was God’s gift to the Outer Banks. His buzzed hair was dark and wet, droplets trailing down his temples and catching along his jawline. His cheeks were flushed, a little red from the heat.

You looked away, somewhere over his shoulder, anywhere but at him, refusing to let him see you in this fragile state.

“Go away. I’m fine.”

But he didn’t move.

He’d been summoned from your absolute worst memories, catching you at your lowest when you least wanted his help. Typical.

“No,” he refused firmly, with that stupid, stubborn look that made you want to throw something at his head. “I’ve seen you almost fall three times now.”

“Maybe if you stopped looking at me like a creep, you wouldn’t have to see me ‘almost fall.”

“I wasn’t—"

You grounded your teeth, “Just go back to surfing.”

Rafe let out a dry laugh, shaking his head as if you were the one acting crazy. “Yeah, 'cause you look perfectly stable right now.”

He'd always been a master of the passive-aggressive half-sneer, the art of making you feel like everyone else was imposing on his day, no matter the situation.

“Don’t act like you care.” you snapped, voice carrying over the sand, earning a few glances from nearby kids.

He ran a hand over his face, looking around as if he didn’t want to be there any more than you did, mouth pressed into a tight line. You wanted to scream that this was his fault too, that every choice he’d made led to you standing here alone, exhausted, and terrified.

“Water would help, y’know”, his tone just shy of patronizing “You can’t go around dehydrating yourself just to make a point.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Your fingers twitched with the urge to send him stumbling to the other side of the beach, you knew that any sudden movement would make you light-headed again, and the last thing you wanted was to give him more proof of your weakness.

The kid—still standing there, eyes wide and darting between you both—looked like he was watching a reality TV show when Kiara appeared at your side.

“Let’s not do this here,” she begged under her breath, handing you a bottle of water she’d brought over, a kindness you didn’t want but couldn’t reject. “Just sit down for a second, please?”

JJ followed, always with that air of easygoing nonchalance, but his eyes were serious as he glanced from you to Rafe.

“She’s right. Just take a second, yeah?” He looked over at Rafe, “Maybe you should leave,” he said pointedly.

“Maybe you should mind your fuckin’ business Maybank.”

“Look, uh,” the kid stammered, knowing he could get caught in the crossfire. “I’ll… I’ll go see if anyone needs help further down the beach…”

You waved him off, your focus still locked on Rafe as the kid all but bolted away, you didn’t want anyone to think they had to “rescue” you.

You tried to take a step back, but the little strength you had in you disappeared as you felt your knees wobble.

"Jesus," you heard him groan, and then his hands were on your arms, board on the sand, holding you as you stumbled. "I told you to sit down."

You shook his hands off, "Don’t tell me what to do.”

It was hard to believe the two of you had once burned hotter than any bonfire, two people who got under each other’s skin, in love, and in hate.

He let out an exasperated sigh while you took a sip from the water Kiara handed you, ignoring how your hands were still shaking around the bottle.

She spoke again, trying to be the voice of reason, "We’re here to help the community, remember?"

JJ smirked, "Yeah, think the sea turtles are rooting for y’all to work out your issues somewhere else.”

You ignored his joke, keeping your eyes on Rafe, your pride and stubbornness refusing to let him win, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah?”

He looked you over, his gaze fixed to your warm cheeks and the dewy sheen across your temple, “You look real fine, don’t you?” He didn’t even try to cloak his sarcasm.

God, he could be so exasperating.

He couldn’t understand. How could he even think he could look at you now and know anything about who you were? Standing there, with that stupid board and that look, like he couldn’t imagine anything bothering him as much as this seemed to be bothering you.

As if he hadn’t already ruined you in so many ways that felt impossible to get over.

“Don’t you have something better to do?”

“Oh, believe me, I do,” he drawled, his eyes trailing from the waves back to you.

You were tired of this game, of fighting him every time he showed up only to leave you feeling even emptier than before.

Your fists clenched, and you opened your mouth to hurl something back, but the dizziness hit you again. Before you could compose yourself, Rafe’s arm wrapped around your waist, strong and frustratingly secure, holding you upright with an ease that made your skin crawl.

He had seen you at your weakest, had been there at the hospital after the accident, keeping you together when you were certain you’d break.

Yet, here you were, in a sick way, back in his arms, all broken apart.

“That’s it. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“I hate to say it, but he’s right,” JJ chimed in, hand shielding his eyes from the sun.

The world alone had all kinds of alarms going off in your brain. You fought back instinctively, your hands pushing at his chest, freeing your arm.

“I told you, I’m fine.”

He let go, but he didn’t back away.

Instead, he narrowed his eyes, “You think I don’t know what fine looks like? I was there.”

He was there. And you didn’t want to be reminded of it, not in front of other people.

He meant the exhaustion and hunger pains you’d welcomed after your family was gone, embraced even, because it meant you wouldn’t have to feel anything else.

You’d wanted to disappear, and he’d been there—dragging you back, forcing you to drink water and swallow bites of food, even when you pushed him away. He’d seen you at your absolute lowest, where you didn’t care if you made it through the day.

The thought of the hospital, tests, questions, you fought it, but your vision was already blurring.

You couldn’t let him find out about the baby.

Your breathing felt tighter, each shallow breath only making the spinning worse, you could sense your body giving in to the exhaustion

“Shit,” you heard him curse, sounding distant now like he was farther away.

You felt yourself sway as if the ground was opening beneath you, there was a ringing in your ears that made his voice sound muffled but you still felt his arms catching you again, holding you upright before you fell.

Waking up in a moving vehicle was like emerging from a nightmare, except somehow, this was worse, because you were no longer at the beach.

You blinked hard, desperate to wipe the fogginess in your eyes and when it did go away, you realized who was behind the wheel.

Rafe.

Your heart pounded—your desperation to keep the baby a secret, how you almost passed out at the beach, and the fact that now he was most likely driving you to the hospital.

“What the hell are you doing?” you practically screamed, your voice hoarse from the lack of water.

He didn’t spare you a glance, “You passed out, genius. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Your whole body went rigid. “Are you insane?”

“Me?” He scoffed, as he kept his focus on the road. “You practically ate sand back there. You’re not fine.”

“Turn the car around. I’ll call my driver and be fine.” You huffed like he was too dumb to understand. “I don’t need your help.”

He let out a dry laugh, still not looking at you.

“Yeah. You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you out of this car right now.”

“Rafe, I’m not kidding,” you warned, louder this time. “Stop. The. Car.”

He gave you a sideways glance, his grip on the wheel tightening.

“Not happening.”

Your heart hammered as you realized he wasn’t going to back down, you were driven by sheer desperation.

“Fine, then I’ll do it myself." you muttered, reaching for the door handle.

Anything to get out of this suffocating car before he dragged you all the way to the ER and they found out you were pregnant—with his baby, no less.

His eyes widened, finally snapping from the road to your hand on the handle.

“Are you crazy? Get your hand off that, I’m fuckin' serious.”

You yanked at it anyway, twisting the handle and pulling with spiteful defiance, and Rafe’s expression went from annoyed to full-on rage. He swerved the car to the side of the road, tires skidding as he slammed the brakes and practically threw the car into park.

Before he could even stop fully, you flung the door open and stumbled out, sandals sinking into the gravel as you stalked away.

You didn’t get more than a few feet, he was already bolting after you.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, digging your nails into your palms.

How the hell had it come to this? You were stuck here, pregnant with his child, and he played the reluctant hero like you needed him swooping in to save you.

Rafe reached you in two strides, his fingers were digging into his forehead, pointing at it with exasperation imprinted into every corner of his face.

“Are you out of your fuckin' mind?” He sounded like he was talking to some unruly child.

And the worst part? You could see that frustration in his eyes, the same look he used to give you when he’d reached his limit with you.

You wondered if he ever got to that point with Sofia.

What would he do if she was the one almost fainting? Would he still look like she was some colossal burden, or would he soften, maybe even smile as he fussed over her, acting like he wanted to help?

You hated yourself for caring at all.

There was no way he’d look at her like she was a mess, someone he just had to “deal with.” He likely saw her as easy, perfect, all soft and sweet words, everything you weren’t.

This wasn’t who you wanted to be, and yet here you were, stumbling around half-dead and pregnant with his child.

“I’m sorry, am I bothering you?” You spat the words, watching his jaw clench tighter.

He exhaled sharply, rolling his eyes.

“Unbelievable. Only you could take me trying to help and turn it into this.”

You were done. You were done with the memories, with the torment of seeing him be something better for someone else.

“Help?” You laughed bitterly, the anger engulfing you so hard it felt as if it choking you. “You think this is help? That I need you, of all people?”

He took a step back, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I'm trying to help."

You hated how calm he was, how rational he sounded.

It was maddening when all you wanted was for him to get angry, to let that icy surface crack, to give you even a glimpse of something real, something that wasn’t just irritation or sarcasm.

You wanted proof that he still was affected by you, that this was the same guy who used to be everything, who’d promised you everything.

But you swallowed it down, straightening up, because there was no way in hell, you’d let him see even a hint of weakness.

“Trust me,” you shot back, “I’ll be just fine without you.”

He raised an eyebrow, a bitter smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “Get in the car.”

“No,” you said, firm and unyielding, every inch of you screaming that you wouldn’t let him decide anything for you ever again.

“Fine. Have it your way.”

In one swift move, he reached out, his hands gripping your arms with enough pressure to pull you forward, lifting you clean off your feet. Your breath caught in a furious gasp as he practically dragged you back to the car, his fingers warm against your skin, like you were just a mild convenience.

“Put me down!”

You struggled against his hold, jabbing at his chest with what little strength you could muster, but he didn’t even flinch, didn’t so much as hesitate.

“Rafe, I swear—”

He opened the passenger door with one hand, keeping a firm grip on you with the other, before finally setting you down—not gently—onto the seat. Without meaning to, tears began falling as you struggled against his hands. You could feel them wetting your cheeks, your voice was breaking, jumping to distress as you tried to twist out of his hold, feeling so small under his unrelenting strength.

He almost knelt in front of you, reaching for the seat belt with one hand, while his other remained firmly on your shoulder, holding you still. You felt trapped, impresioned as you tried to turn in every direction, hands weakly pushing him back, but he caught them effortlessly.

“Stop!” you meekly choked out, failing to shove him, the words coming out shameful.

You could feel your heart breaking all over again.

You hated that he was seeing you like this, how he dared to act like you needed him—it made your skin crawl. You hated that he could do this, like he had any right like you’d ever wanted him involved in this part of your life, let alone now.

This was a version of you only Rafe could bring out.

You glared up at him, practically shaking with rage as Rafe ignored your protests like you were nothing more than a child throwing a fit.

“Get your hands off me.”

His jaw tightened, ignoring the flailing punches and slaps grazing him, and you couldn’t stop the sob that escaped, loud and ugly.

“I’m not letting you kill yourself out of spite.”

Your chest hurt like you’d been run over a hundred times—it felt suffocating. “I hate you.”

For the first time, you thought he might actually leave you here.

A faint, humorless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as he clicked the seatbelt into place. He made a low humming noise, that thing he did when he was getting ready to make someone feel two inches tall.

"Yeah? Get in line."

Without another word, he pulled back, slamming the door shut, and walking around to the driver’s side.

You wiped at your cheeks, furious that he’d seen you like this, that he had the power to break you down. It was humiliating, sitting here in his car, every part of your body screaming to escape.

He got in, started the engine, neither of you spoke.

You bit back another wave of nausea. Weakness.

You’d already shown him too much.

You didn’t need a lecture from some doctor on how you “should’ve taken better care of yourself", let alone with Rafe there, watching, scrutinizing, acting like this was his business when he’d made it clear long ago that it wasn’t. He was in your space in the worst way, reopening all the wounds.

You were seething. He had no right to do this.

The thought made you want to drop dead—doctor would walk in, casually drop the news about the baby, and you'd be left watching his reaction in real time.

You looked at the entrance to the ER. The vision of anyone running tests, of some well-meaning nurse, coming in and spilling everything about the baby in front of him—no way. You wouldn’t let that happen.

He wasted no time getting out, moving around to your side, while you sat rigidly, staring straight ahead. His hand was already on the door, yanking it open, looking down at you like he was ready to drag you inside if he had to.

You weren’t moving. You knew the second you stepped inside, it would be over.

“C’mon,” Rafe pressed, his hand outstretched, hovering there like he thought he could compel you to listen. “Stop being so stubborn.”

You crossed your arms over your stomach, refusing to meet his eyes.

“I’m not going in.”

Rafe let out a sigh, nearing his limit, and knelt down to your level.

“Look, you passed out. I’m not leaving until you get checked out.”

“You’re gonna be here for a while then.”

“And what?” you interrupted.

“And think! If you don’t get in there, I’ll drag you in myself.”

Your heart raced, “You wouldn’t dare.”

Rafe stepped closer; his jaw set in determination. “Try me.”

“You’re not coming in."

He blinked like the idea hadn’t even occurred to him. “What?”

Maybe he was seeing the protection you’d built up around yourself since he left, how there was no longer any crack left open for him to slip through.

“I don’t need you. I don’t want you in there.”

“Fine.” His tone was clipped, restrained. “But I’ll be right here.”

You slammed the door shut behind you, not letting him your legs still shaking. You’d rather collapse face-first into the concrete than give him the satisfaction of listening to him.

“Yeah, you do that,” you replied, turning and walking toward the entrance, refusing to look back.

Stepping inside, you felt a slight tremor run through you—part relief, part panic. The lights were too bright, almost white. Your heart wobbled, replaying how he’d been such a fucking asshole to you.

You’d forgotten how mean he could be, how easily he could go from angry to something so frigid it made you want to cry yourself to sleep.

“Hi there,” The receptionist greeted, her eyes moving over you with a professional once-over, “What brings you in today?”

You forced a small smile, knowing she wouldn’t buy it.

“Just…got a little dehydrated, that’s all.”

“Okay…let’s just get some basic information.” She clicked into her computer, her fingers poised over the keyboard. “Name?”

You cleared your throat, rattling off your full name, she nodded, typing it in.

“Have you experienced any other symptoms besides dizziness?”

“Nothing serious,” you replied, dismissively. “It’s just the heat, like I said. I just need some water and I’ll be good as new.”

This had to be a fucking nightmare you got sucked in, you could sense your blood pressure spike.

She tapped her screen and glanced back at you.

“Alright, Miss Thornton, it looks like we’ll just need a few quick details here to get you all checked in. Can I start with your insurance provider?”

A chuckle almost slipped out of you. Insurance—God, you were fine with insurance. What you weren’t okay with was everything else. You answered, “Blue Cross.”

She asked for your birthdate, which you gave on autopilot, hoping she’d skip any weird or invasive questions. “Any allergies?”

You shook your head. Please, just let this be over.

“It’s really not a big deal,” You blurted out, giving her a thin smile and forcing calm into your voice. “I just need the IV. You know, standard stuff.”

“Of course, dear. We’ll get things started, it will include routine tests, like bloodwork, just to be safe.”

Bloodwork. Perfect. You were doing everything you could to keep from falling into that spiraling panic mode.

Please, just get me in, get me out, and don’t find anything.

“Just head down to Room 12.”

All you could think was that you wanted this to be over—before the whole town, or worse, he, found out. It made you want to scream. He was the last person who should be outside.

This was his fault. You’d never be here if he hadn’t shown up.

The next hour passed in seconds—questions, forms, an IV drip.

They’d done blood work, too, but you’d sighed in relief when they’d told you the results wouldn’t be ready immediately. As far as they knew, you’d just overdone it, and now, as you lay on a cot in a room that reeked of sick people, all they’d prescribed was rest, hydration, and food.

When the nurse asked if anyone could pick you up, the thought of calling someone, asking them to see you like this, made you delirious. You didn’t need anyone; you were perfectly fine on your own.

But you also didn’t want Rafe and his delusional ass to barge through the doors.

The nurse moved around you awkwardly, eyes still expectant, as if you were just a button away from a reliable “someone” to come running.

You looked at her, controlling the compulsion to yell. Little people ever bothered to check on you, to show up for more than just the drama or gossip.

Out of them, only one face bounced around in your head.

“Yeah, I got someone.”

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron (by @itneverendshere)

2K notes · View notes

no-droids · 4 years ago

Text

Ask Me Again Tomorrow

gif credit @pedros-pascal

Part Sixteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3K

Warnings: SMUTTTTT, following/stalking, some fluffy moments but mostly just a lil action and interaction, I don’t think there’s any other warning besides language and the smut (comm sex WITH A TWIST YALLLLL) but if you happen to find something else that warrants a tag, please let me know and I will do so accordingly!

A/N: The response to this story has grown beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined and I genuinely thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the privilege of writing for you. Hope this one ends up being okay and I’ll get to work on the next chapter soon!

***

Headstart—12:17pm:

The sky is so pretty. There isn’t much to look at on the surface—rolling hills and plains, grassy but with dry bare spots breaking up the green stretches, but the sky. It’s an oil painting above you, pastel swishes of yellows and pinks and purples with an enormous ringed planet taking up half the horizon and another sizable moon hanging high.

You should probably be running. Like, for real sprinting, but you can’t push yourself to go faster than a brisk walk. It’s so… free out here, more hills springing up every time you get to the top of the next, warm air filling your lungs. Even though you know realistically that the beginning will likely be the hardest—where you need to focus most on running and putting distance between you instead of hiding—truth be told, you’re not foreseeing making it more than a full day. You’re going to try, obviously, but in the grand scheme, you wouldn’t be surprised in the least if he finds you tomorrow. So, instead of wasting all your energy going as fast as you physically can right out of the gate, you just decide to stroll and think for a little bit.

You know what your goal is. Obviously, to last as long as you can, but more specifically… well, if Din is going to chase after you, then he’s going to try to think like you. Anticipate your movements, if he can’t already see the tracks you leave plain as day. Very soon, he’ll be walking this same exact pathing, following the footprints you’re leaving behind, but if you’re ever able to shake him or throw him off course, he doesn’t have a tracking fob. He doesn’t have any mechanical device that points him in your direction—if you can lose him with the footprints, then he’ll have to rely solely on predicting you. Which means you need to think… exactly the opposite of yourself if you want to outsmart him.

That’s harder than it sounds though, because… is he going to predict you predicting him? At what point does it stop? You somehow have trouble seeing this as an advantage the way he said it would be—you almost wish you had someone else chasing you, someone you didn’t know and someone who didn’t know you if only so this paradox could end before it begins.

You’re walking for about ten minutes before spotting a dirt road in the distance. There’s a person following it in the direction of the sun—you don’t know this planet’s magnetic field but you do know it’s after noon and the sun would set on Arvala-7 in the west, so that’s what you’ll call it for now. You call out to them as soon as you’re in range, and the stranger turns to you.

“Excuse me!” It’s a woman, you see it as you get closer. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but can you tell me where this road leads?”

She removes a sheer yellow shawl covering her dark hair and gives you a friendly smile. “Hello,” the lady greets, before spinning around and pointing back the way she came. “Osiruu is a few hours that way. There’s not much there, but it will take you to G’ila, a transport hub with many opportunities for drifters, or Nariss, the capital. I’m on my way to Shabeth,” she points in the other direction. “It’s far—a day’s walk, but it’s a holy place and offers quite the view. I would be glad for the company, but I understand its lack of practical appeal.”

So this place is safe enough to be inviting strangers along on your travels, noted. You’re going to have to make the decision right now, then. Which path should you take?

Something deep inside you tells you that you want to see this holy place, and just from a few sentences, you already like this woman and feel safe with her. But then all of a sudden, you remember something.

Last known locations tell you a lot about a quarry, Din’s voice drifts back to you, sounding soft and distant from the dark forests of Naboo. Smart ones go to populated planets, planets like Coruscant, planets that make it nearly impossible to find people. Brave ones go to dangerous planets, suicidal ones try their luck in the Unknown Regions, idiots continue to go about their business on their homeworld without caring. But planets like this—like Naboo… those are the pacifists. The ones that don’t ever put up a fight.

You suppose you should decide what kind of quarry you want to be. Friendly company and a view is something you normally crave—it’s something your soul speaks to after going without it for so long during your previous life. You never pictured yourself as the fighting type. When Din first asked you, you told him you wouldn’t run from him if he was chasing you, and choosing to accompany this kind stranger to her destination is essentially just that. Sacrificing a chase for a pretty view.

“Does Shabeth have a sizable population?” You ask her, and she shakes her head.

“It’s the sight of an annual pilgrimage that happens in a few months, but it’s beautiful there and I like to go whenever I can,” she tells you with a soft smile. “But there’s nothing for miles outside it, I’m afraid.”

Your footprints will lead directly there. He’ll find you easily.

“It sounds very nice, but I need to find somewhere with a lot of people,” you give her an apologetic smile. Truly, you think she would’ve made for a nice friend. “Thank you for your help, though, and good luck with your journey! I hope we meet again.”

“Do you need any food or supplies?” She asks you, and you stop short of passing her by. “I don’t have much with me, but know what it’s like to be a newcomer to Sanctuary II. I’d be glad to help.”

Good Maker, is this how everybody is here or did you just hit the jackpot with this lady? She seems like… you, almost. Her voice is gentle, she looks like she’d give nice hugs. You’re about to politely turn her down, but then you realize the brilliant opportunity that’s presented itself in her image.

“Actually, this might sound like a really strange question, but…” you tell her, before looking down at her feet. “Wanna trade shoes with me?”

***

Headstart—6:12pm:

You don’t think it’ll work, but as you walk into a small settlement a few hours later in a unfamiliar and worn pair of sandals, you decide that you’ll need to do this as often as possible. You can’t come up with anything else that’ll throw him off your physical trail besides constantly switching shoes—is that bad? Are you just an idiot with no hope? You’ve had—you check your watch—like, five hours to think of a game plan, and all you’ve come up with is shoes? You’re screwed.

At least there’s food here. Plenty. There’s vendors stationed along the street, multiple people passing by and going about their business. Osiruu, that nice woman said—not much here, but you think she was wrong. There’s children giggling and jumping rope on the corner, a shopkeeper sweeping her storefront, a graying man with an empty cup plucking an unfamiliar melody on an unfamiliar instrument—and while your tummy growls and you know you should quickly buy supplies and be on your way, you still stop for just a few minutes to listen.

It’s a lovely tune. You drop a few credits in his cup after he finishes and find yourself humming it as you look at the plethora of goods being offered by the vendors. Water, food—you buy enough of everything to sustain you for at least a couple days, not wanting to go hungry but also feeling realistic over optimistic. The cuisine is foreign and you just point to things that look appetizing since you’re not sure about the name or pronunciation, but after paying and taking a bite into a rather large piece of purple fruit, your eyes nearly cross at how sweet and tasty it is. Holy Maker, that might just be the best thing you’ve ever tasted. You ask for two more after you finish the first, tucking one in your backpack next to your blaster and munching on the other as you keep browsing.

Suddenly you see shoes—yes. Fucking shoes, your salvation. You take a good look at all your options, of which, there aren’t many. Generic men's, women's, and children's, all in the same color and design. It’s good in a way—you see most people walking around in the same type of clothing here and you pray there’s not a way for him to track your gait or the whole thing is a bust, but truthfully, what you’re most worried about is the fact that you’ll create a brand new set of footprints wherever your old ones disappear. Unless you trade with someone else, you won’t ever have a back pathing, you know that Din will probably be able to easily spot it.

“Three pairs of these, please,” you point to the correct shoes and tell him your size, but then—“Oh wait, actually, can I actually have one of them that’s the next size up? And another that’s the same but in men's?”

The man behind the counter gives you an odd look but acquiesces, measuring the size of your preferred pair to multiple men’s shoes to find one that looks roughly the same—you doubt he’s ever had a request like this, but you’re also a generous tipper. His smile is grateful when you tell him to keep the change and then you’re stuffing the new shoes into your backpack and moving onward.

Would there be some kind of map here, you wonder? One that shows distance so you won’t waste time trying to reach a place you won’t be able to walk to? That lady said a transport hub and the capital are through this settlement, but she didn’t provide much information beyond that. You don’t want to be in the middle of nowhere when he finally catches up to you, you’ll need some place to hide.

When you stop to ask an elderly gentleman as he passes by, he freely provides you a basic gist. There’s a large forest beyond Osiruu—after it will be a road that passes through a few notable places, with a town called Sijua to the west that leads north to G’ila, and Devain to the east that leads northeast to Nariss. Both are within walking distance, though it may take a couple days to reach your destination.

Alright then. Through the forest, you suppose. You probably should’ve asked which way is east, but he’s already leaving and you don’t have the nerve to ask him to stop again. You have a finger point, that’s all you need. Making sure to use one of the small restrooms near the square before heading out, you eventually decide to make your way towards the direction he said this forest would be.

***

Headstart—6:58pm:

A bus.

You’re not going to take it, of course, but it’s the perfect solution to the problem you’ve been mulling over. It’s at the very edge of the small settlement, and you quickly speed up into a half-jog as soon as you hear its engine running.

“Last call for the seven o’clock!” A large man stationed near the doors yells as you approach. “Last bus to G’ila until tomorrow!”

The sun is setting and you have to extend your hand out in front of you to not be blinded by it. “Hello,” you give him a smile, before grabbing one of the handles on the side and stepping up onto the metal platform.

“Ah!” The man quickly stops you, moving to stand in front of the open doors. He’s as wide as he is tall, big enough that he blocks the entire exit. “That’ll be ten credits, miss.”

“Oh,” you say, patting your empty pockets and pulling your eyebrows inwards, trying not to move too much in case the sizable amount of credits you have stashed in your backpack happen to rattle. “Oh, no. I think I lost my wallet.”

He sighs. “Off the bus then please, miss. Come back tomorrow if you find it.”

You nod, leaning your forearm against the paneling and beginning to take your shoes off. “Will it be parked in the same place exactly?”

The driver looks curiously at you, clearly confused at both the strange question and your strange actions. “I’m sorry? Please—off the bus.”

“One second,” you tell him, now barefoot on the platform and digging into your backpack for the slightly larger sized shoes you bought earlier. The sound of credits clink against your blaster, but you hope he takes your lead in purposefully ignoring them. “Does the bus to G’ila park in this spot every single day?”

“Yes,” the man tells you impatiently, eyeing the way you’re stepping into the new pair with a subtle look of distaste. Everyone is polite here, it seems. “It will arrive back at seven am sharp with passengers from G’ila, in the same exact place. Please get off the bus.”

“Thank you, sir,” you tell him with a smile, watching him step to the side to allow you to drop down into the dirt again and continue on your way.

Brilliant, if you do say so your fucking self. Eliminate the need for a back pathing. All footprints facing this direction are going to be the first footprints, and all of them facing the opposite way are going to be the last; if Din manages to figure out you didn’t take the bus, then he won’t be able to tell which new set are yours and which belong to the other passengers. You pray the helmet can’t track gaits, but while you’re still paying enough attention, you make sure to keep your steps just slightly longer and even try placing more weight on the edges of your feet to make it look like you have a slightly higher arch than you actually do. You’d put a pebble inside of them or something, but you know you’re going to be walking through the night and you don’t want to commit to having your feet hurt more than you already know they’re going to.

Eventually the quaint shops and small houses disappear behind you, and the sun setting over the horizon turns the clouds above turn more dusty green and brown than yellow and pink. You hope Din opened up the ramp after you left. You want him to see the sky.

***

Headstart—9:34pm

The forest here is different from Naboo, too.

Maybe it was because you only saw it while you were in crisis-mode, but that forest seemed much scarier and darker than this one. The vegetation there was thick and overgrowing, but these trees look like they’ve never had leaves on them at all. No twigs or small branches that sprout from the trunks—the branches are all thick and gnarly, criss-crossing with each other with how close they’ve grown together. You bet their roots are practically one at this point, stretching for miles and miles but all sharing the same system.

Because there aren’t any leaves, there's nothing to block the moonlight shining clear and crystalline through the twisting maze of branches. Sanctuary II appears to have a sister moon—Sanctuary I, perhaps?—that’s likely a similar size, because it’s the same one you've seen all day and it’s barely moved a few degrees that you can tell. It must orbit incredibly close and be tidal-locked with this one then. Two massive satellites swinging around each other as they circle a ringed gas giant, but it makes a stunning view and reflects more than enough light to see.

The sky is deep blue and maroon and you’ve been walking in a straight line for hours, using the stationary moon overhead as your guide. The only issue with this plan that you’ve been able to come up with is that there’s no widely traveled path through the trees—even you can see your footprints and the clear trail you’re leaving behind. You’ve been trying for a while to figure out another clever evasion tactic, but it’s harder than it sounds. Can’t just change shoes again, that’ll be a dead giveaway. How do you lose him?

You stop for a second, reaching into your bag to grab some water and stay hydrated. Looking up once more at the beauty of the swirling colors peeking through the branches above you, you find yourself pausing after returning the bottle to your pack. There are… an atrocious number of branches up there, and all of them are long and tangled and thick. Sturdy.

You’ve… never climbed a tree before.

Without thinking much beyond that, you decide to bend your knees and jump, grabbing hold of one of the strong wooden tubes over your head and then swinging your legs up. Ouch—the bark scrapes against your palms and you have to hold on tight with your thighs while you shimmy yourself upwards, but at least the wood is solid as fuck. It takes you a minute or two, but you’re eventually able to shuffle yourself around so you’re straddling the thick branch, and then you look out to see the large collection of them criss-crossing in every direction around you.

Oof, this is dangerous. You know it even before you start. The gaps leading to the ground are bigger and more numerous than your potential pathing forward, but the only thing that gives you reassurance is how thick the wood is—you’re almost certain the branches aren’t going to break as long as you’re careful.

Okay. Shoes, these are too big for the kind of dexterity you’re going to need. You take them off slowly, being extra careful not to drop them, and then exchange them with the better-fitting pair you bought earlier, making a mental note that the sandals and the larger shoes are the two you’ve already worn. If your pursuer manages to catch on to the multiple footprint changes, your most recent ones should ideally just… disappear right there, shouldn’t they?

You grin, before struggling into a low crouch and looking around your wooden cage for a safe way forwards.

***

Headstart—11:37pm:

Water.

A blessing, and not because you’re thirsty. You have clean water in your bag and decades of habits formed in the desert to ensure you’re taking breaks and drinking enough—what you need is a way to disguise your footprints once you get back on the ground again. This was good; scuttling your way along thick and twisting branches for as long as you have was time-consuming and exhausting, but it allowed you to avoid touching the ground for at least a mile or so, which means he’ll have to comb that entire radius to look for your drop.

And it was fun.

You even found yourself giggling as you ducked and scooted, ignoring the bark scraping your skin and your panting breaths, the way your face got sweaty and hot. You had to do some brave maneuvers at tricky spots—jumping, balancing, hugging—but it almost just felt like an exciting little obstacle course for you and you’re honestly having a fucking blast right now.

Water, though. Water is an unexpected beauty, even more than you’ve always considered it to be. Water is an eroder. Not only powerful enough to smooth down the rough edges of strong elements over time, but it will hide your footprints as soon as you create them and leave no indication that you were ever there.

Eventually you see it—a babbling stream cutting a considerably wide line through the trees. You creep forward and hang tight to a branch above you to make sure you won’t fall, wiping the sweat on your brow with your other hand as you study the terrain. The water is… a considerable distance below you, maybe about ten or so feet, and there’s quite a few branches on either side that extend and hang out over it. You could probably find your way to the other side somehow, but something tells you to avoid the road beyond the forest if you can. It leads to multiple places, it would be better to follow the stream until you can eventually merge with it later.

That means you’re… fuck. You’re going to have to jump, aren’t you?

It’s the only way—you can’t leave footprints which means you’re going to need to land in the water. The trees clear too far from the shoreline, so you can’t shimmy down the trunk of one for a shorter fall. You’re going to have to climb out on one of those long branches until you’re suspended over the stream, and then you’re going to have to lower yourself as far as you can and then let go. With your height already accounting for at least half the distance plus the length of your arms as you hang, you should only have to drop two or three feet before reaching water, and then maybe another two feet to the floor under it. It looks forgiving enough—the moonlight shines and the stream is clear and you can mainly just see sand at the bottom, no sharp rocks or other potential dangers to be found. This… this is doable.

Okay. If you pull this off, you’re a badass. If you don’t break any bones or seriously injure yourself in any way, you deserve some kind of commendation. This is probably kiddie shit to Din, who keeps literal rockets strapped to his back and jumps out of ships flying thousands of feet above the ground, but this is a challenge for you and you’re feeling just excited enough to be up to it.

You’re eventually able to climb onto the thickest, sturdiest branch you can see that happens to hang over the water, straddling it and beginning to scoot. Your thighs are killing you at this point but you’re holding deathly tight to the wood, your movements becoming more and more cautious the further away from the trunk you get.

You’re directly above the water now, but you need to go out a little further. Aim for right in the middle so you don’t accidentally leave any tracks or prints on the shoreline if you need to catch yourself. The unfamiliar wood in this forest is admittedly sturdy, but the branch begins to subtly sag with your weight as you keep slowly scooting forward, and you’re just about to the correct spot when—

Day 1–12:00am:

“Sweet girl.”

—You nearly fucking fall.

“Maker,” you gasp, suddenly scrambling to catch yourself on the branch before you can plummet. It creaks and groans under your weight but supports you nonetheless, and when you’re one hundred percent certain it isn’t going to break, you jerk your head down to the communicator and see that it’s midnight, on the dot.

Shit.

Your heart slams against your ribs and your arms shake with adrenaline while you study it for just a moment longer, trying to calm the fuck down.

“Hey,” Din’s voice comes sharply from your wrist, crackling and tinny through the comm, nearly scaring you again. “Answer me.”

You don’t want to sacrifice your grip right now, but you have no doubt he’ll fly the Crest out to you if you don’t respond. So you quickly let go to press a button on the front face and then latch onto the branch tight once more, raising your voice because you can’t risk bringing your wrist up to your mouth to speak. You hope he’ll be able to hear without the microphone picking up the sound of the stream below. “Uh. Ahem. Hello. Yes?”

“You’re too quiet,” Din’s disembodied voice immediately informs you. “Or something on your side is too loud. There’s an earpiece built into the side of the communicator, take it out and use it instead.”

You study the wrist brace without moving, until you finally see what he’s talking about. It’s a small, wireless piece of machinery hidden on the left side of the electronic display, and you quickly pop it out and stuff it into your ear just in time to hear the sound of hydraulics clanging through the speaker as you clutch the branch again. You’d know that sound anywhere, it’s the ramp of the hull closing.

“Are you already on the move?” You ask him incredulously, your thighs starting to go numb with how deathly tight you’ve been squeezing this tree.

“Can’t sleep,” Din murmurs, sounding so much closer and deeper than before. Does he have his earpiece on under the helmet or something? Stars, is that why his voice sounds that good? It’s like it’s coming from inside your own head, bassy and rough. “Ready or not.”

You huff, your tummy going warm. Of course he can’t sleep, of course he’s going to look for you as soon as he’s allowed to. If he waited until morning, you’d probably be slightly offended. You try to slow your heart rate into something acceptable, but being this far above water and hearing his baritone murmur directly in your ear make it difficult. “But I’m… sleepy.”

“You’re always sleepy,” he tells you, and though you can’t actually hear him walking, the sound of his footsteps shake through his voice just slightly as he speaks.

“Hang on,” you huff, ducking your head to drag it against your shoulder, keeping the sweat from your eyes without using your hands, “you’re gonna make me stay up all night just because you do? This isn’t fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules.”

Well. Fair.

Stars, you can’t stay here. You don’t know how long he wants to check-in for, but you’re also not confident with this branch’s ability to hold you for an extended time when you’re this far out from the trunk. You need to get in that stream one way or another, but now that he’s here, you have an extra problem. Din is going to hear you no matter what.

“Um. Can you give me a second?” You ask him, glancing around to make sure there’s no better way of doing this. Nope, you realize very quickly—this is the best idea you’ve got, and you don’t really know what that says about the quality of all your other ideas.

“What?” Din grunts shortly, but you just clear your throat.

“I need to… mute myself. Give me like… five minutes.”

“What are you talking abou—”

“You of all people cannot be upset about asking for five minutes of quiet,” you return testily, looking down at the distance to the stream once more. That’s a long way. You… you can’t swim obviously, but again, the water doesn’t look too deep. Just a couple feet likely, shouldn’t go past your knees.

It’s fitting that he doesn’t say anything, which you eventually take as disgruntled acceptance, so you quickly press the proper button on your wrist to silence the mic and then take a few deep breaths. You have a time limit now, you have to do this.

With incredible patience and precision, you eventually slide until you’re clutching the branch upside down like an only slightly quicker and less coordinated sloth, before slowly dropping your legs and hanging over the water.

It’s… admittedly a bit further down than you anticipated, or maybe that’s just you making things worse than they actually are, but you’re committed at this point and there’s no going back.

You close your eyes, count to three, and then you let go.

The sandy floor meets your feet with considerable force and you make a hell of a splash doing it, nearly falling but just barely managing to keep yourself balanced and upright at the last second. The water is cool and comes up just over your knees, your backpack miraculously didn’t get wet and all your limbs remain shaky but unbroken.

Okay. Okay, fucking success. It feels… thrilling, accomplishing a dangerous feat, and you quickly let out a loud whoop before clearing your throat, trying to sound normal as you press a button on the communicator’s face once more.

“Mando?” You ask, slightly out of breath. “Sorry about that, I’m back.”

Okay, now which way do you go? Downstream seems like the easier path after getting in so much unexpected exercise, so that’s the one you go with. As soon as you lift your foot from the sand bed, you watch your footprint almost immediately disappear through the moonlit water, and you bite your lip at just how well everything turned out for you.

After a moment though, you realize he hasn’t answered you. You look down at the communicator again to make sure you pressed the right thing. “Hello? Shiny?”

“Did you trade shoes with someone?” Din’s voice suddenly comes through the earpiece, sounding absolutely incredulous.

“Shit,” you tell him, trying not to smile. “Hoped that was gonna buy me more time.”

“It… might’ve, if you kept walking in the same direction as they were,” he informs you after a moment. “Your shoes went south, but this other pair got all the way out here just to turn back around again? Good idea, but the execution needs work.”

Maker, he’s smart. It was the first attempt at a footprint change so you weren’t thinking much beyond tricking the tracking mechanism in his helmet, you ignored his logic completely. Essentially, the exact opposite of what he told you to do. You like to think you’re getting better at it by this point, thinking beyond just the original exchange, and you’re hoping you’ll be able to trick him with at least one of the other fifty times you changed shoes today. You’ll have to see tomorrow night, if you can make it that long.

Also, the road you were on apparently goes north-south, that’s important information you make sure to take note of. The man in Osiruu said Devain and Nariss are to the east, and that Sijua and G’ila are westward, right? Remembering that you thought south was west earlier, you do some quick calculating and immediately come to a stop in the moving water as soon as you figure out your positioning, turning around and walking upstream instead.

You want to go to Nariss. The capital, and the biggest city in walking distance. Smart quarry go to populated places, places that make it nearly impossible to find people.

“Alright. Mando: one, Me: zero,” you finally acknowledge, swinging your backpack around and unzipping it to dig inside for another piece of fruit. You’ve been hungry for hours but had to use both hands to stay safe and far above the ground, it’s the perfect time to eat. “How’s the baby? Behaving himself?”

“He kept trying to follow you after you left,” comes Din’s response, and you stop with just your teeth piercing the flesh, wondering if you heard him right. You actually open your jaw and pull the fruit away with just a bite mark in it.

“You’re joking.” No fucking way, not that little demon.

“Wish I was,” he tells you solemnly. “Made a fuss, tried to open the ramp a few times. Didn’t cause any trouble after, just… pouted.”

That’s… that’s exactly how he responded the very first time Din left the kid on the ship with you instead of bringing him along. He threw a fit, tried to ditch you for his dad multiple times, and then ultimately just looked cute and mopey with his limp ears until Din came back. Do you think it’s just him rebelling against change? That has to be it, right?

“He better not be giving you any hints about where I am,” you warn his father. “I’d tell you to put him on but I don’t want the earpiece getting lost forever.”

You hear it. The softest laugh—barely a breath, coming after years of learning to make it just quiet enough not to be registered by the helmet. It gets picked up by the communicator in all its understated beauty when normally it’d be silent, and it’s just jarring enough to make you careless.

On your next step, you accidentally lift your foot too high and make a splash, and you already know you fucked up before he can say a single word.

“What’s that sound?”

You immediately stop moving, allowing the cool water to move as silently as possible past your stationary knees. Shit. “Uh. What sound?”

You think he purposefully doesn’t say anything. Probably because it feels a little like cheating, doesn’t it? It’s to your disadvantage, having him be able to catch hints from your environment when he’s the one who made check-ins mandatory, but then again… how smart do you think he is? Something tells you that he might not need to track you at all—what are the chances he stumbles upon this little stream and just naturally assumes you were clever enough to use it to hide your trail? Did you waste time trying to engineer a vanishing act when it’s not going to matter regardless?

Oh well, too late now. You quickly decide to change the subject.

“You should try the big purple fruit that one vendor sells when you get into Osiruu, by the way,” you tell him pleasantly, taking a big chomp out of it and then letting out an extended hum of delight that only really fucking good food or sex causes a person to make. “I’m eating one right now, it’s so good. Be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“Mm. Doubt it,” immediately comes his low response. Fucking immediately.

“Mando,” you gasp, scandalized and giddy enough that juice dribbles down your chin a bit.

“Are you having fun?” Din asks, instead of pushing the conversation any further in that direction. You don’t know if you’re thankful or disappointed with how quickly he decided to abort, but you take a moment to consider his question while swallowing and wiping your mouth. Not the answer, you know the answer—but why he bothered to ask. Did he know you were going to enjoy yourself as much as you have? Your only possible lament is how you’re talking to him through a communicator instead of having him next to you.

“I am,” you say warmly. “Be… be better if you were here, though.”

“Give me your coordinates,” Din proposes, and his voice is just low and rumbly enough to make you pause.

You’re really, really proud of yourself for only considering it for a few seconds before scoffing. “Psh. Nice try.”

“Was worth a shot,” he sighs through the earpiece, and you smile, taking another bite of fruit.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you offer, grinning at the implication.

“We’ll see,” you hear him return, and though his tone doesn’t really change, you know he’s probably rolling his eyes. He won’t have to ask for your coordinates because he’ll already be there, but it’s nice to pretend for a while longer.

And then you both walk all through the night, sharing casual banter with each other for hours. He never once implies he wants to disconnect, even when you hit him with more nonsensical questions—

“What’s your favorite food?” (“I don’t have one.”)

“Okay, well what about just a food that you like?” (“I don’t like food that much.”)

“What do you mean? Everyone loves food.” (“Not me.”)

“Alright, well um. What’s your favorite color, then?” (“I don’t have one, either.”)

“Come on, you must have some kind of color you like.” (“What’s your favorite color?”)

“…Brown.” (“Then that’s my favorite, too.”)

—until the sun rises and you both say your goodbyes.

***

Day 1–6:15am:

You resolve to waiting until you see another person to allow your feet to touch dry land, figuring the longer you stay untraceable, the better off you’ll be. Your toes are wrinkly and your pantlegs and shoes have been drenched for hours, but then you finally spot a few fishermen standing upstream with their backs to you, speaking to each other in the dawning light. Two look to be full-grown, but there’s a smaller one in the middle, maybe a teenage boy, and you pause for a second, looking at the riverbank next to them. All their valuables—water, food, bait, extra rods, but also… their shoes.

Quietly, you reach into your backpack and remove the pair of men’s shoes you bought earlier. The ones closest to you on the shore seem to be the smallest, so you sneak over as silent as possible and rapidly make an exchange, fitting the new ones on your wet feet before allowing yourself to touch dry land and then speed walking away.

The ones you left him are newer and roughly the same size anyways—yikes, maybe slightly smaller now that you’re thinking about it—but at least you have a back pathing. If that kid decides to take your offering and the shoes fit, Din will follow him, and if he decides to go barefoot instead, he should still follow him, right? You’re not really aiming to trick him outright, mostly you just want him to waste more and more time. This likely wouldn’t work if there wasn’t a time limit attached to this hunt, but you’re going to do everything you can to disappear while he’s still far enough behind you.

***

Day 1–7:06am:

You get to Devain remarkably quickly after finding the correct road. The pit stop is much bigger than Osiruu, big enough to call an actual town instead of just a settlement, but still not large enough to feel concealed. You want a city. This place at least has cars and ships moving about and overhead respectively, but you’re looking for somewhere with lines. Somewhere that feels as cramped and busy as possible.

Still, you find a restroom to use and then decide to grab some more food for your trip, happily spotting your new favorite purple fruit in one of the shop windows. As you’re reaching out to hand the storekeeper the appropriate amount of credits, Din’s gruff voice comes through the earpiece so suddenly that you jump, nearly dropping them all on the counter. “Hey.”

“Holy shit, what?” You gasp, earning a confused look from the lady in front of you. You quickly shake your head at her and mouth an apology while Din grumbles in vexation.

“You were supposed to stay on foot.”

Ah. So he got to the bus, then. Okay.

“Oh,” you answer ambiguously, exchanging the money for your bag of food and giving her a polite smile. Din stays completely mute while you grab your snack, stuffing the rest of the goods in your backpack and then turning to leave—mute for so long that you have to double check you didn’t accidentally do it yourself.

“…Smart girl,” you finally hear him say. Quietly muttered under his breath, half proud of you and half frustrated for making his job more difficult. “Which one of these is yours then?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you announce, before taking a large bite as you leave the establishment and talking with your mouth full. “You really gotta try the purple fruit, it’s great.”

The communicator abruptly clicks to silence on his end without anything else and you laugh so unexpectedly that a few pieces of it fly out of your mouth.

***

Day 1–1:32pm:

Somewhere miles away from you, Din jerks to a halt in the middle of a forest.

He looks around the dirt floor, walks a few paces and hears the kid coo gently from his cradle. Behind the visor, the red footprints he’s circling are the last ones around for hundreds of meters, as far as his display can read.

His helmet slowly tilts upwards, and follows the endless maze of thick branches overhead.

With the beskar hiding his face, no one can see the way he slowly breaks into a beautiful grin.

***

Day 1–9:51pm:

Oh. Oh stars, you’re tired.

You’ve been walking all day without really seeing anything, not having any place to disguise your tracks in the wide open plains. You could’ve stuck to the road, but you started to feel the exhaustion creep in during the early afternoon and you wanted to be far away from other travelers and potential danger if you needed to rest. You knew this would be a long journey when you left Devain earlier—over a day’s walk, a group of children told you—you even tried skipping or jogging a bit to see if that would inspire more energy in you, but it didn’t help much.

The large cup of caf you bought while in town was drained hours ago and it didn’t help much either, probably because your exhaustion is more physical and not necessarily mental. It just felt like a sweet warm drink to sip before you go to sleep, that’s how much the caf helped. Still, you kept walking, kept moving forward even as you squinted in the setting sun, your feet aching from traveling for this long wearing unfamiliar shoes. The last time you changed them was hours ago, pulling another bus maneuver but with an air shuttle instead. Still, you don’t think it’ll be enough. You don’t even know where Din is but you already feel like you’re losing ground just knowing that he’s the one in pursuit.

You feel it—the hair standing up on your neck, the tingles in your hands, the stirring of your tummy—whatever the incessant gogogo that your instincts happen to scream when you’re in first place but you know the person behind you is quickly closing in. It’s day fucking one, it’s day one and you feel him in the wind as it brushes through your hair, you can’t even pause to rest because nobody knows better than you that he’s an absolute fucking machine when he wants to be. The kid may have powers beyond that which can be explained by the laws of nature, but Din is a force all his own. He drives you forward when everything inside you is telling you to stop. He keeps you awake and determined when you just desperately need to rest.

But that only goes so far. You’re bordering on two full days without sleep, and though you’d normally be able to suffer through, the constant movement is just brutal after being confined to a stationary ship for so long.

There’s a lone tree in the distance, you think. It’s hard to see. Not because it’s dark—well it is, just a bit darker tonight compared to last, but mostly because your eyelids have grown heavier and more burdensome than the bag around your shoulders. That looks like a good place to just sit for a second, right? Maybe eat some more food, try and wake yourself up? Yeah, that’s a good idea, you’ll head towards the tree and just… sit…

***

Day 2–12:00am:

Completely dead to the galaxy and sitting on your ass with your back against rough bark, the comm clicks and Din’s voice comes through the earpiece.

“Wake up.”

It startles you enough to make you lurch forward and jerk your head around in a panic, looking for any flash of beskar so you can instantly break opposite to it. You scramble on all fours to look around but you don’t see anything, not even behind the trunk when you crawl, and then you take a deep breath and use the bone of your wrists to rub your eyes vigorously after a moment, knowing your hands are filthy. “Fuck, how’d you—”

“You’re always sleepy,” Din repeats, and you collapse back into the tree with an exhausted groan, not entertained but not even having the energy to get mad about it.

“I… I gotta sleep,” you tell him, already feeling your body let go of its tension and search for the darkness of unconsciousness once more. “Shit. How d’you… mm. Stay awake all the time…”

“Sleep,” Din encourages, you can still hear him walking. “You need rest. I’ll see you soon.”

No—

“No,” you whine like a child, moaning and shoving yourself upright. Maker, you’re trying to focus, but asking that of yourself is almost impossible right now. Everything swims—you were dreaming, you think, but you can’t remember and it’s not important other than to emphasize how woozy you are. Things still feel like a dream, somehow.

You think he can hear your struggling through the comm, because the sound of his footsteps pause. “Go to sleep.”

“You go to sleep,” you tell him bluntly, giving your head a violent shake to try and wake you up. You want to slap your own cheek but you don’t want him to hear it. “I can’t sleep if you don’t.”

“I’ve have at least a couple more days in me before that happens,” Din murmurs, and you bet he knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing to you. You start to slouch, hearing the voice he uses when he’s curled around your body in the darkness of the hull. So warm, so gentle. If you use your imagination, you can feel his fingers drawing slow circles on your back, the vibration of his low voice rumbling against your ear as you lay your head on his chest. “If I hunt you the way I’d hunt a quarry, I’m going to find you before you wake up.”

“Then I’ll jus’ have to… not let tha’ happen,” you slur. Even this close to unconsciousness, you try your best to throw in a misdirect. “Already… paid for the bed an’ everything.”

“Sure you did. You in another tree?”

You immediately frown even as your eyes drop closed, too tired to fight but still managing to sound upset. “You makin’ fun of me?” You ask him with a harumph. Genuinely, you’re not smart enough to figure it out right now.

“Not hardly,” Din sighs, sounding… you don’t know. Is that displeasure or not? It’s not immediately clear. Does it sound that way because you’re just dumb stupid right now? Or because Din can’t actually decide how he feels about it? “Lucky I heard water over the comm last night, I would’ve wasted hours in that forest.”

“Noooo,” you whine in response, trying to push yourself off the tree but tipping sideways in the process, “that’s not fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules,” he repeats himself again and… nope, you don’t even have the energy to snark something back. You just grumble your best imitation of him while you do everything you can to heave yourself upright. It’s pitiful, you lose your balance not even halfway through and just plop on the grass for a second and groan.

“Stop,” Din eventually orders through the earpiece, tired of it. “What’s sixteen times itself?”

You’re loopy to the point where you don’t even question why he decided to ask you that. You just furrow your brows for a second and try to think about it, before suddenly realizing you… don’t know, you can’t remember. Multiplication tables and squares up to twenty are elementary to you, you know them by heart. Sixteen times sixteen. One forty-four. No… no that doesn’t sound right, is that twelv—

You take way too long answering what would’ve been an immediate response two days ago.

“I’ll stop here for tonight,” Din tells you with a resolved sigh. “I won’t move until you wake up. Go to sleep. You’re putting yourself in danger, you can’t even do the basics.”

Later, this moment will come back to you. That problem isn’t basic, not many adults would be able to tell you very quickly that the answer is two fifty-six. You don’t even think Din would. You would, though. On Naboo, you used rapidly applied trigonometry in your head to find his location, and that was barely two minutes after waking up. You should know this. And he knows you.

But for right now, you don’t pay it a single lick of attention.

“You promise?” You ask quietly, voice incredibly small as your head tilts back towards the sky, already feeling yourself beginning to fall back into the darkness again.

“I promise,” he vows in return, gentle but a promise nonetheless. He doesn’t have to do this. You wouldn’t be able to keep going even if he didn’t offer up this temporary truce, but knowing he isn’t currently gaining ground on you makes the idea of sleep so much more welcoming, something you want to seek out instead of fight.

“Will you, um…” your expression furrows. How do you say this? You sigh, giving up before even trying to figure it out. “I’m… not in a bed. I’m outside.”

Din doesn’t say anything when you pause, and even through the haze wanting to take over, you know it’s going to sound needy. You want him to stay. Even in the midst of an adventure, you want him to stay, you want to hear him breathe as you rest, but there’s not really an integrous way to ask.

You don’t need to ask.

“I’ll keep the comm open and wake you when the sun rises,” comes his lulling baritone before you can elaborate anymore, enveloping you in comfort in this dreadfully uncomfortable bed of grass and dirt. “Sleep, sweet girl. I’m right here.”

***

Day 2–5:34am:

The sun shines over the hills and you lift your head up to squint your eyes at it, confused as fuck. Looking down at your wrist to check the time in the warm rays, hands and clothes dirty from laying on the ground that long—you stay groggy and clueless for just a moment longer, before your heart lurches when you remember Din’s promise to you.

You open your mouth to address him but then catch yourself just in time. Wait. Don’t panic. Listen.

Breathing. Slow and relaxed through the earpiece, a rhythm now branded into your memory from months of nights spent in pitch black. He’s… asleep.

Din is asleep? Seriously?

You can count like… twice that this has happened, and one of those was because he got you to touch him just right after closing up a wound on his back, and his body couldn’t handle the strain and passed out. You’re never awake when he’s asleep—you’re just not, it doesn’t happen. Din… sleeps like it’s just a choice for him, he doesn’t ever really need it. Almost like how he used to eat before he started sharing meals with you, he said he doesn’t even like food that much. You think he just severed all of those things long ago, things that are basic fundamentals of survival and operated like a bounty droid that lost its voice box. It’s… nice, feeling like you’re somehow giving back some of the things he lost. Unintentionally encouraging him to find sleep again. Making sure he eats more, listening to him speak.

You struggle to your feet as quietly as possible, hearing him continue to breathe slow and relaxed through the communicator. This isn’t purposeful, you don’t think he actually allowed it. He promised you, and Din doesn’t take shit back. If he tells you he’ll do something and he doesn’t follow through, it’s either out of his control or a mistake, it’s never been purposeful. He didn’t mean to fall asleep.

And, in other circumstances, you most definitely would not find some way to take advantage of this. You’d let him sleep and do other things in the meantime—make some food for you and the kid, find something on the Crest that isn’t spotless and clean until it is, or just… lay there next to him until he woke up. But… these circumstances are their own. You have to capitalize now, this is your chance. You passed out last night around… ten pm, you think it was, and then he promised to stop at midnight. That means you have to walk at least two hours before he wakes up if you want to prevent any loss of ground—you don’t know where he stopped, he could be a few miles back even.

You have to find Nariss—you have to. It’s your only option, if you keep trying to run, it’s just going to make it so much easier for him. Now is the time to hide. You know it hasn’t been long, it’s barely been two days since you first left the Crest but it feels like you’re already in endgame, already making moves in self-defense instead of actually planning your maneuvers ahead of time.

The capital should be half a day’s walk from here, then. As long as you get there, you think you’ll be okay.

***

Day 2–8:28am:

Din’s groan suddenly comes through your ear.

You immediately stop, seeing a busy road in the distance and glad you haven’t quite made it there yet, before trying to disguise your voice as drowsy. “Mm?”

“Shit,” he breathes, and you hear him get up, the sound of beskar moving as he grunts.

“Mpph,” you groan back, squinting your eyes to see if that’ll help sell the act. “I thought you… Mando, fuck, y’said you’d wake me when the sun came up.”

“I… fell asleep,” he admits, voice rough with it, sounding just as confused as you felt earlier.

“You said you had days in you before that happened,” you murmur, taking a deep breath and stretching your arms up above your head. Stars, your back hurts, how does he possibly manage to carry a fucking jet pack around all the time?

“Yeah, I…” He pauses for a moment and you bite your lip, not liking the quiet as soon as you hear it. “How long have you been up?”

Op. Not good. “Wha?”

He’s not falling for it. “How long?”

How in Maker’s name? This is impossible. How can you hope to hide from him when you can’t even manage to hide the smallest fucking truth from him? Can you salvage this somehow? “…Like ten minutes.”

“Least a few hours, then,” he sighs, and you get ready to hit him with the same line he used when you complained about his leg-up, opening your mouth as soon as you hear him speak. “That was smar—”

“Fair wasn’t part of—”

Oh. Well. Apparently you didn’t have a reason to feel shitty about deciding to haul ass while he was passed out even though you kind of ended up doing so anyways. There was no agreement besides that he wouldn’t move until you woke up. Reason is on your side, but it still feels a bit like you fucked him over. Is that valid or are you just so used to being nice that putting yourself first feels like a wrong you’ve committed?

“Don’t feel bad,” Din tells you, and you hear a soft coo in the background. It makes you smile the smallest bit, your shoulders relaxing even as they ache from carrying your pack around. “You should feel bad about stealing that poor kid’s shoes, though. He walked home barefoot.”

You smack your forehead. “It was just….”

“Yeah,” he scoffs when you don’t finish your sentence, and you can’t keep back a giggle. “Alright, I’m up now. See you when you get here.”

And then the communicator clicks, and you’re…

Uh. What the fuck was that?

No. Nope, you’re not going to get played. That was a brilliant attempt at fucking with you, but you’re not falling for it this time. You’ve grown since that night on Canto Bight, you know him, he can’t just say shit to fuck with your head and then smile at your flailing response from under the helmet anymore. You normally would stew in that last comment until it got to you, made you make a mistake most likely, but the more you think about it, the more certain you are that he has nothing. He was just trying to see if you’ll abandon your entire plan just by implying he already knows it. That’s beginner shit, you’re not falling for it. Din wanted to leave the conversation with the upper-hand since you gained at least an hour of extra ground while he slept. You’re certain of it.

***

Day 2–12:35pm:

Nariss is big. Nowhere near the size of Coruscanti sectors of course, where billions of people are packed from surface to exosphere and require oxygen recirculation towers to breathe at the very top, but just slightly bigger than you expected. It’s bustling and you haven’t even made it through the city gates yet—you’re approaching them and the large number of people waiting in line, seeing buildings stretch out for miles in front of you and grinning. Yes, this will work nicely.

As you peek over shoulders in the sizable crowd, you see only two or three people allowing people to enter one at a time… is that a biometric scanner?

Oh. That looks good and it also doesn’t look good at the same time. If Din’s safety meant nothing to you, you’d have no trouble whatsoever getting in line and waiting to do a retinal scan, but you immediately pause and consider the potential consequences.

Your dumb ass almost weighs the option of clicking the communicator on and asking his opinion. You’d give away your location in a heartbeat (if he doesn’t know it already) just because you’re worried he’d… what, exactly? Stand in line for an hour, take his helmet off in front of a crowd of people, have the system ping his scan, and then hang out and wait for New Republic reinforcements to show? You have to stop worrying about him. He’s not a baby, he can handle himself and you need to stop considering the possibility of taking a loss just so he doesn’t have to, even if the self-destructive sentiment feels ingrained in your nature to do so.

So you wait in line, moving at a slow pace but at least moving. While you’re standing there quietly, a man in front of you decides to strike up a conversation. You don’t come from a place with an excess of people, but the ones in your sector were friendly and did this kind of thing often, so perhaps for that reason, you decide to chat.

“Do you have some place to stay?” He asks at one point. So far the conversation has revolved around him—every time he asks about you, you deflect. He doesn’t need to know. “Nariss isn’t kind to drifters.”

This catches your attention, though. This is relevant. “What does that mean?”

“It’s expensive?” He scratches his blonde hair, giving you a soft smile. “Food, housing, all of it is way out of my price-range. I stay with my uncle and work overnights at the eastern docks. It’s not much, but it’s enough to keep a roof over our heads. We used to live in Gibrath, but then we moved to the city because he’s a good architect and they’re always expanding. It’s nice, of course, but really expensive.”

He’s handsome, you think… in kind of a boyish, charming way. Blonde hair, sparkly blue eyes. He doesn’t look much older than you, and maybe in another lifetime you would’ve found him appealing, but… you like darker features, you think. Someone a little less expressive. This guy… talks a lot.

“I thought this moon was a safe world for people displaced by the Empire,” you offer, taking a step forward as the entire crowd shifts.

“Sanctuary II is,” he comments. “The capital is safe, too—what, with all the orangies walking around,” he tilts his head to two jumpsuited guards trying to organize the glob of people so the line can move faster, rolling his eyes as if they’re some kind of joke. “But not… welcoming, not if you’re looking for a place to settle. You would’ve been better off in G’ila.”

“Is there anywhere you know that would take me for free?” You ask. You have quite a few credits left, but you don’t think it’s a good idea to stay in an inn. It’ll be the first place Din checks.

“Are you a virgin?” He returns, and you immediately pull back at the unexpected question, your heart thudding at the possibility of danger. The man’s sandy eyebrows shoot up at your response and he quickly apologizes—“Heavens, I’m so sorry to ask like that! It’s just… the only place I know is the Holy Keja Orphanage on the northern outskirts. Their signs say they only house children and teenagers, but I’ve heard from other girls your age that they’ll accept any woman as long as they’ve stayed pure in the eyes of the Maker.”

“Oh,” you say after a moment, leaning sideways to see just a few people standing in front of him. Good, this is almost over. “Um. Yep. That’s me.”

He smiles at you once more, giving you a nod. “When you get to the city, just go straight through. It’s about a mile outside of the gates, no more than a day’s walk from this side of town.”

Okay, that’s… interesting. You think about it while you thank him and begin to exchange polite goodbyes, moving up another step until he’s next in line. That might actually be a good move. Din could spend a long time in the city without ever finding you. Smart quarry go to populated places, but… smarter quarry defy the expectations placed upon them, right? He knows you’re smart, and even though you’re confident his “See you when you get here” was purely psychological fuckery, that also implies… at the very least, that he’s assuming there is a here to get to. Meaning, he knows you’re not going into the wilderness to evade him. He’s not going to comb the outskirts when there are so many places to hide within the city gates, with an entire perimeter of New Republic guards stationed around it. Even if he does, the signs will say only children and teenagers—categories you do not fall into.

The unnamed man is soon ushered forward but you stop him quickly. “Oh, by the way. I doubt this will happen, but if a man in a big metal suit with a tiny green baby happen to ask you the same thing, please don’t tell him what you just told me.”

He furrows his eyebrows at you and cocks his head, but smiles and agrees nonetheless.

***

Day 2–5:43pm:

You have an idea.

You’ve been working on it all afternoon, but you were hit with it the second you were looking for another pair of shoes to buy and find a clever way of putting on.

The cheapest ones were ridiculously overpriced, blonde dude was right. You blinked down at the tag and asked the salesman where the cheapest shoes in this part of town were, and then he just wrinkled his nose at you and shooed you out of the store. Granted, you slept in dirt and spent two days walking—you bet you reek, but he didn’t have to be like that.

Though, the man’s displeasure with you had an upside. You were holding a possible pair of pants and a shirt to buy when he threw you out, not yet having checked the atrocious pricetag on them, but it appeared as if he’d rather let you have them for free than rip them from your… admittedly, pretty filthy arms. Oh well, you weren’t complaining. Fancy clothes for free, score.

But now you’re here, and you have the best idea. You don’t need to change shoes, not yet. Why? Because you’ve figured out how to turn your incessant detriment into an advantage.

You’re in the middle of downtown, you think, maybe just some random crowded square, and there’s an inn in front of you. It’s fucking enormous, and you already know it’s gotta be incredibly expensive just looking at the sheer number of stories. It’s an eyesore, it sticks out. But that’s okay, because you’re only planning on staying for a night.

It’s also… right next to New Republic headquarters. Or fuck, at least a station of some sort, because they’re swarming in and out of the constant crowd, passing by the valet doors.

At first you naturally wanted to steer away from the jumpsuits, since you know they’re bad news for Din, but then you remember what he said before you left. I’m only telling you so that you’ll know your advantage and find a way to exploit it. I can’t be seen by any officers, or they might arrest me.

It’s to your advantage, he said so himself. Everything lines up perfectly—the street is bustling, the inn is well protected, it’s nice—it’s everything you’re looking for.

And there’s another upside, see. An omnipresent, omniscient ghost in the form of a communicator clipped to your wrist right now. If Din is always going to be able to predict you, he’s always going to know when you’re lying, always be able to read you… then you’ll just have to let him.

Let him know. Let him know exactly where you are. Right in the middle of the most populated street you’ve seen thus far, a constant barrage of people walking by and New Republic officers patrolling. If you were planning on staying in the city, this would probably be your best option to hide. He could waste days here if you’re smart about it.

The concierge doesn’t appear too pleased with your lack of cleanliness and neither do you, honestly, but at least he allows you to book a suite for the night. It’s… not as bad as you were originally assuming, credits-wise, but it’s worth more than half your stash and you’re going to have to conserve from this point on. It shouldn’t be too bad—your destination is a holy orphanage, you’re sure they’ll have some extra food and a bed for you even if it won’t be ideal. Still, you think you’re going to enjoy some lavish experiences for once in your life before you go.

***

Day 2–11:54pm:

Alright, so this was the best idea ever. This is the shit.

You’re leaning back against a fluffy stack of pillows, squeaky clean from an absolutely glorious bath and watching the flickering drama on the large holonet display in front of you. You don’t have any idea what’s going on, as it’s being broadcast in Rodian, but you haven’t been able to change the frequency because it’s so fucking intense—somebody’s sister is their mother, you think? No, that must be a mistranslation, right?

You’re also in a robe. Yes, there is a motherfucking robe in here. And… and slippers, it’s like a dream. Do people normally wear slippers in bed? You do. Hell, maybe you should stay here, screw the credits and the chase. This mattress is even better than the one on Naboo and you’re basking in the luxury after being outdoors for so long.

The lights are off other than that and you’ve opened the drapes wide, knowing you’re on something like the fifteenth floor and nobody would be able to see you anyways. You just like being able to turn your head and look out at the sky. Violent and periwinkle tonight. You wonder if he’s looking, too.

Luckily, you snap yourself back out of it and glance down at the time on your communicator, quickly pressing a button on the remote to mute the Rodian show and then opening the line the moment the hour changes.

Day 3–12:00am:

“Hiya, Shiny,” you say before anything else, laying back and running a few fingers through your damp hair. Your eyes close against the flickering light, taking a slow, relaxed breath. Maker, this feels nice.

“You sound happy,” Din comments. Astute, you feel happy. Well… you’d obviously feel happier if he was here. Your eyes flick over to the open bathroom door, still steamy from your bubble bath earlier, imagining him walking through it completely naked and then climbing over you on the covers. You can only really picture it from the neck down—no, hang on… you can see his shaggy brown curls, that one spot on his forehead you know, how his facial hair would be dark and frame his mouth. No face, though. Missing just one fraction of him from your imagination, feeling incomplete but also somehow… complete in a way.

“I feel better after sleeping last night,” you tell him, purposefully leaving out the softness of the sheets underneath you, the sheer comfort of all this extravagance. You don’t need it, you’ll never need it, but it feels nice to have for once.

“I do, too,” he replies quietly, and your eyes flutter closed. You… miss him. This mattress would feel softer with him next to you. He’d probably be able to translate this show for you, even though you already know he’d fucking hate it. You can imagine it—you with your eyes closed, him propped up on an elbow next to you and grumbling vague descriptions of the nonsense happening on screen just to hear your chuckles. Adventures are great, but maybe they aren’t as great by yourself, you think.

“You should sleep tonight, too,” you encourage, but he scoffs.

“Not a chance,” Din mutters. “Oh, before I forget, we need to charge the communicators today.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” You ask him, glancing at all the multiple wireless charging outlets stationed around you. “I’m in the middle of nowhere.”

He doesn’t even take a fucking second before responding. “Good one.”

You grin up at the ceiling, warmth flooding you. You love him. Literally every single time, he just knows. Your curiosity is too overwhelming after this happening so often. Your plan to distract him relies on him being able to read you, but that doesn’t prevent you from wondering how he does it so accurately, time and time again. “How do you know?”

“You slept outside last night,” he immediately tells you, like that should mean anything to you.

Does he… does he truly know you well enough to know how much your back and shoulders hurt today? How much you were aching for a shower and clean clothes? A bed to sleep on that isn’t dirt or metal? You give into the accurate prediction with shameless honesty, not caring if he knows it’s the truth.

“This bed is soft,” you murmur gently, dragging your hand across the mattress next to you. “You should be here. I’d make you feel good.”

Admittedly, your comfort is making you a bit drowsy and you said it in the easiest way possible, but you didn’t necessarily mean it sexually. Well… you sort of did—you’d make him feel so good in this bed—but what you meant was more… comforting. He could take a bath, or a shower, and get all the grime off him. He could feel clean and unburdened, take a break instead of constantly moving around. The baby could have a whole bed to himself if he wanted, though you know he’d probably want to be on this one instead. You could all look at the sky together.

Din is quiet for a little bit, before his voice comes back through the earpiece. “Are you in an inn?”

“No,” you say, a little too quickly. Perfect, that sounded just right for a lie. You are lying, you absolutely are in an inn, the only difference is that you want him to catch on that it’s a lie, so… why does he take way too long before responding?

“Hm.”

What the fuck—why… how is it even physically possible? He read you that deeply from one single word? You’re not sure if he’s somehow psychic and figured the whole fucking thing out or if he just knows there’s something off, but it’s still enough to blow you away.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” You blurt without thinking.

“Doing what?” He grunts, sounding like he’s stepping over something, his breath changing intensity as he walks.

“If I look out this window right now, am I gonna see you standing out there just messing with me?” You don’t even know what to believe anymore. How do you beat this? If you don’t want him to know the truth, he’ll figure it out, and if you do want him to know the truth, he’ll still figure it out. His perception is unbelievable.

After a moment of silence, he murmurs gently through the comm. “I thought you said you were in the middle of nowhere.” It sounds like he’s smiling.

“I…” your eyes shift around awkwardly, “am…”

Din lets out a deep sigh. He’s right, that was bad, even for you. “I found your bed a few hours ago,” he admits. You close your eyes as you listen to him make his way closer to you, step by step. “I’m nowhere near the city yet. You have time to sleep.”

Your expression furrows and you frown. “Why are you helping me?”

“Why do you want me to think you’re in an inn?” He tosses back, and you huff.

“Because I’m trying to outsmart you but you make it really fucking difficult,” you grumble, not happy about him catching on so quick.

“You’ve also gained about four hours on me since we started.” His voice is gruff. You don’t know if he thinks it’s a good thing or a bad thing. “You should give yourself more credit. I thought I would’ve found you by now, never expected you to get all the way to Nariss. It’s… not good for me.”

The honesty creeping in makes you go soft. It makes you want to reciprocate, even if it’s dumb and you haven’t thought it all the way through. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Tell me.” His voice is a bed all its own, deep and gentle and safe.

You say it before you lose the nerve. “I might just turn around and walk back.”

His footsteps stop and you hear a small sound in the background, a quiet little baby noise that suddenly makes your heart ache. You’re comfortable but incredibly aware of how alone you are. People pass by on the streets below, cars and hoverbikes honk in the distance and you’re by yourself. For the first time in over a year, like you have been for years, you’re by yourself.

“Sweet girl,” Din sighs, and all of a sudden… you can feel his arms around you with it. You feel so… known, somehow. Every sentiment you could’ve possibly given in your last sentence, he relays his understanding back with his. He makes you feel loved with it. “Never wants to run.”

You don’t say anything, because you suddenly realize you’re totally fucking whipped, up down and sideways for his metal ass and the little floating grimlin that follows him around, and you would throw away the fifth quarry, adventure, the sky—literally everything if you could be with the both of them right now.

But again. You don’t have to say anything, he already knows. “Give me your coordinates.”

Your eyes pop open and you bite your lip. Oh, stars. You hate that you do genuinely consider it. He could be here, and very soon. With the jet pack, both of them could be here in less than an hour, probably. He could take a shower. Watch these stupid shows with you all night without needing to be on the move, help you build a bed of pillows for the kid on top of this one. You could be with both of them again, even if it’s only for a little while.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you finally whisper, looking down at the soft white fabric of your robe, the way one of your slippers is falling off your foot as the holonet program continues to play on mute.

Din’s footsteps eventually start up again, and you both relax in silence together. You, squinting at the screen because your eyes are getting heavy; him, continuing to travel step by step and gain ground on you. Let him come. You’ll be long gone by the time he even makes it to the gates.

It’s been about ten minutes of shared, quiet existence before you hear him bite into something and chew, and your face suddenly lights up.

“Are you eating the purple fruit?” You ask, your slipper falling off with excitement. You don’t know why, but it’s like… you’re stoked for him. Just as proud of him for doing normal things as he does when you step out of your own comfort zone. You like to think you’re both better that way. Balanced.

“Mm,” Din replies with his mouth full, and you grin down at your bare legs peeking through the robe while he swallows.

“Is it not the best thing you’ve ever tasted?” Your voice goes a little breathless with it, and you hear his footsteps stop once more.

“Close,” Din murmurs lowly, sending a small shudder through you. It suddenly feels a bit warm in here, doesn’t it? This morning was one of the rare times you were awake while he was asleep… it’s almost always the other way around, and just from the implication in his tone, you’re reminded of the thing he likes doing most when you’re resting. Maybe he’ll let you do it to him, next time around. The thought gets you hot enough to warrant the other slipper falling to the floor.

“You’re alone, right?” You whisper, knowing he must’ve pulled the helmet up to take a bite of the fruit. He must still be following your path through the hillside, then, not yet reaching the road.

“The kid is awake,” Din tells you, sounding like he’s trying to stop everything before anything starts. His words are short and clear in their meaning, but…

This has a very small chance of success, you already know. “…Do you want to—”

“No,” he responds quickly, already way ahead of you. “We can’t.”

Something in his voice… you don’t know, there’s just something there that makes you feel just a little reckless. Should you push it? You’re by yourself in this suite, what can go wrong?

“You can’t,” you correct him quietly, shifting around on the bed just a bit and biting your lip. It’s a thrill—being able to tease him without having him in front of you, drive him crazy knowing you’re just out of his reach. “But I can do whatever I want, can’t I?”

There’s a pause, a tense and knowing silence suspended between you before he eventually speaks.

“I’d be real careful,” Din mutters low in warning, but what is he gonna do?

“What are you gonna do?” You whisper to him devilishly. Quiet and breathy, beginning to snake your hand down. Stars, your heart is already pounding. You’d only likely mouth off like this in person just to see how hard he’d fuck you, but this feels extra dangerous for some reason. He’s stuck, he can’t do anything about it right now, and you know it’s playing with fire. “You could hang up if you don’t want to hear me. Or you could find me before I’m finished. Come make me stop.”

Din doesn’t say anything but he very much does not hang up, nor does he come busting into your room like you imagine he’d like to. The sheer fact that your door is still closed and locked tells you for sure that he isn’t just hanging out in the hallway, just letting you have your fun.

You start pressing your fingers against your robe at the apex of your thighs, humming at how nice the pressure feels. You don’t even spread your legs or push the fabric away, you just sigh into it and wiggle your hips a bit, pressing hard against your clit and listening to him breathe.

“Do you want to listen?” You ask quietly after a moment, and Din still doesn’t respond. Likely because there’s not a real answer, both yes and no would imply the wrong thing. “I’ll talk.”

Still, nothing from him. Dead silence through the comm. You’re starting to understand. For two days, you’ve felt like he could read your every thought just by the cadence of your voice. He’s staying quiet so you can’t even attempt to do the same to him—if he doesn’t talk, you can’t find a weakness and pounce on it, you can’t feel any more confident or reassured about your own ability to read him.

You’ll just have to push a little harder, then.

“Hm. If only this fancy communicator could…” you pause to look down at your wrist for a second, studying the menu. You don’t think you’ve ever really looked at it, you never had the time.

Din’s growl is sudden and sharp through the earpiece. “No, don’t even think—”

“Ah,” you smile, tapping the face and immediately finding the correct screen. “Take pictures.”

He’s deadly quiet for a moment, and you bite your lip with excitement. When he does speak, his voice is a pure threat, chilling you to the bone as much as it burns deep in your tummy. “…You wouldn’t.”

Ignoring him, you suddenly locate a menu option that sounds phenomenal right now. “Oh shit, does this holocall? Or is it a video option?”

“Holo,” he says very seriously while you study the lack of complexity of the built-in camera in skepticism, “and the kid is awake, so you can’t—”

“Oh, it’s definitely a video,” you unclip it from your wrist and he curses as you sit up, and then you press a button and wait impatiently for him. “Pick up.”

Din takes forever before responding, and you hear the continuous beeps as it attempts to connect, before his quiet baritone rumbles in your ear. “What if I don’t?”

You feel your mouth pull down at the corners, not so much frowning as you are dubious. He’s going to turn down the opportunity to see you and your surroundings when his whole goal is locating you? Really?

“You sure?” You ask softly, raising an eyebrow. “You’d get to see me, where I am. What I’m…” your eyes dip down to the loose robe riding your curves, your skin glowing against the white fabric, “…wearing.”

The beeps continue on for a few more seconds, until they finally stop. You frown down at the black screen of the communicator, not seeing anything at all. Did he decline the transmission request? No… there’s a little red light next to the small lens that wasn’t there before. Why can’t you see him?

“Why can’t I see you?” You ask. You want to look at him looking at you, you don’t want to always be stuck on the other side of a one-way mirror.

“I… have it linked to my helmet, but it only has a front-facing camera,” Din tells you after a moment, and he sounds… slightly out of breath. “Easier to see, the watch is useless now besides the controls.”

Wait, does that mean you’re… being shown on the inner-display of his helmet instead of his wrist? Right in front of his eyes, as if he were actually here with you?

“Nobody can see me but you?” You clarify, and when he doesn’t respond, you bite your lip and lean back into the pillows. You lift the watch up slightly, extending your arm out until you can get the angle as wide as possible. “Can you see… this?” You ask softly, before hooking your fingers in the collar of your white robe and slowly pulling it open for him.

“Where are you?” Din asks instead, and you hear his footsteps through the earpiece, as if he’s walking away from something very quickly.

You don’t answer him, parting the soft fabric until your breasts are completely exposed and you sigh, closing your eyes and snuggling back into the pillows once more. “I’ll tell you where I am if you keep watching me.”

“Why?” Din grits in frustration, coming back around to the same dangerous question he had earlier. “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know.” You slowly tilt the camera down until you can spread your legs and the robe falls open with the movement, letting him see your pussy peeking through in the flickering light of the muted screen in front of your bed. “Can you see that?”

“Yeah,” he says shakily on the end of a breath, and you feel yourself get wet. Fuck, he sounds so fucking tempted, the sight making his voice come without any of the self-assuredness as it usually has, but… he could also just be saying that. How do you know he’s telling you the truth?

“What am I doing?” You test him, lifting your knee just the slightest bit so you really give him something to look at.

“Spreading your legs for a camera,” Din responds without hesitation, voice scraping against your ear, making you shiver and your nipples harden. Fuck, the way he says it, like it’s wrong and bad even though he’s the only one who can see or hear you do it… it makes you feel even more naughty and emboldened.

You bite your lip and reach your hand down to spread your lips for him, too, hearing his breath immediately catch on the other end. Already your pussy makes your fingers slick against your soft skin, the sash of your robe still holding the fabric together on your body but also loose enough to allow it to part in the right places and reveal everything you want him to see.

“I am in an inn,” you whisper teasingly, letting your finger drop to brush against your clit and then sighing in soft delight. Oh stars, that feels nice, it feels so good to treat yourself after being completely nomadic for two days, getting to be clean and soft and comfortable while you feel this pleasure, and Din’s voice growls through your communicator like you’re doing something painful to him.

“Fuck,” his breathing picks up while you begin circling your clit. “Where?”

“Nariss,” comes your quiet moan, turning your head on the pillow to blink slowly at the camera. Wanting him to see your eyes as well as your finger slowly dip into where you’re the hottest, caressing the sensitive skin there knowing he’s watching.

“Where in Nariss?” Din’s voice is as pleading as it is sharp, desperately trying to keep either you or himself on track.

“I don’t know,” you say again. Truthfully, you don’t—you don’t know the cross streets, you don’t know the part of town, you don’t know much of anything at all besides physical descriptors. You quickly move the camera to the side as far as you can hold it and let him see you from a different angle with the window as a backdrop. “But the window is open. And there are lots of people outside.”

“Can they see you?” Din immediately challenges. Of course they can’t, you’re fifteen stories up and the room is darker than it is outside with all the city lights and swirling colors of the sky, but you suppose he doesn’t know that. You think he just needs to relax—if this is what he’s always like during hunts, you now know exactly why he comes back to you all riled up and tense.

“I don’t know,” you murmur back, starting to rub your clit a little faster, trying to make it feel like him. It doesn’t—your fingers aren’t large or strong enough to give you those perfect circles; you just feel like you’re meandering yourself towards ecstasy instead of picking you up and hauling your ass there like he does, but it’s okay. Hearing Din’s rough breathing come through the earpiece, knowing his hands are probably clenched tight into fists, wondering if he’s hard yet… all of it culminates into a power trip unlike any you’ve experienced recently. It makes you bold, tells you to open your mouth. “Does it matter? I’d still let you fuck me against it if you were here.”

“Stop it,” comes his growl, but what is he gonna do?

Your leg lifts a little wider so you can slowly slide your fingers down and push two of them inside yourself, and Din swears as you moan, “Come find me.”

“Give me your coordinates—”

“Are you giving up?” You offer breathlessly, lifting your eyebrows and your hips up slightly at the question, but you’re… not expecting the extended silence following. You assumed a growled no would immediately come next, or just another empty threat said with enough force to make you tremble with excitement, but not… nothing.

The response makes you pause just for a second, easing your fingers out and dragging them across your thigh to clean some of the wetness off before extending your arm out towards the communicator. Din stays quiet while you navigate through the menu with trembling fingers, eventually finding your coordinates and hovering over the unchecked share location box.

You wait with your lip bit, confident he knows what you’re doing and you don’t have to narrate or repeat yourself. Fuck, you knew you were considering abandoning this entire adventure just to be next to him again, but you had no idea. No fucking idea that it could ever be a thought in his own mind as well. You… assumed he likes this, hunting is what he does for a living and he’s the one who conceived of the idea in the first place. Is he just that aroused by you? Or is there something more?

“No,” Din eventually murmurs, and you immediately navigate out of the menu so you don’t accidentally press anything catastrophic, before pulling your hand away from the communicator with a resolved hum and settling back into the pillows again. Making sure to look directly into the lens even if your eyelids are heavy with heat and desire, you slowly lick your fingers and then reach down once more.

His deep, shaky breath is so telling. Exhausted after all this, but still not hanging up, still doing his hardest to tough it out when he’s only miles away from you and has jets attached to his back. You don’t want to drag it out but you also do, you want to be kind but something about Din makes you also want to be as formidable as possible. You’ll never be able to threaten like he does, you’ll never have anyone cower just because you walked into the room, you’ll never be as powerful or strong as he is, but you can still put up a fucking fight against him in your own way.

You whimper softly, your breathing beginning to find a quicker pace as surely as your fingers do. It begins to spark and build, a red hot flame being kindled by the knowledge that he’s as close as possible without actually being close, right here with you when he always seems so far away.

“Mando,” you whisper, though your expression pulls inwards just slightly because it… in a scenario as sensual and intimate as this, it almost doesn’t sound righ—

“Din,” he whispers back, so quiet you almost don’t hear it, like he almost doesn’t want to but has to anyways, and then you just start to fucking burn.

“D-Din,” you whisper instead, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible through the rising swell. He’ll be able to see it, you think. The way your tummy and chest start to heave, how your body begins to brace for it—and yeah, Maker, he sees it, because his voice suddenly changes.

“Stop,” Din growls roughly, knowing exactly how you cum—knowing exactly what it looks like, the way it sounds in your breathing, what it tastes like, how it feels on the inside. It’s been so long since you’ve touched bliss without him, months and months since you brought yourself to completion on the floor of the Crest by yourself, and though he’s rarely ever denied you, your own high on newfound control causes it to slip. He barks your name and tells you to stop once more, but it’s too late.

“I’m gonna cum, Din,” you breathe out—

“Don’t—”

It tears through you, rapid and surging, and he snarls a curse, something loud snapping and thudding and… did he just punch something? You can’t think, it’s delicious and hard as fuck and everything you needed after two days of near constant movement and thought with little rest, and you bite your lip to keep quiet but a pained whimper still shoves its way out of your tense vocal cords regardless. It sounds like it hurts because it does hurt; the orgasm shatters your body into pieces and you’re left trembling by yourself on this soft bed, wishing he was with you on a metal one.

You sink into the mattress in the moments following, sluggish and exhausted and just conscious enough to keep the watch facing you. You bet the camerawork was terrible, shaky at best, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now. You just lay there and listen to his harsh breathing while you work to slow your heart rate, reveling in the filthy little show you just gave him and wanting to finish it out properly.

“Come find me,” you breathe out once more, lazing soft and naked for him, blinking dazedly at the watch as you pan it over you. Your thighs are still twitching and there’s a thin sheen of sweat clinging to you, but you drag a finger through your swollen lips and carefully wipe the wetness across one of your nipples. “Clean me up.”

“Fuck,” Din suddenly spits through the earpiece, furious. “You think—y-you think—”

“What?” You hum, basking in the afterglow and so, so curious. Truly, you’re dumb as fuck, you have no clue what you’re thinking, but if anybody would be able to tell you, it’s him.

There’s a moment where his breathing stops. It’s completely silent on the line, before you hear another few heavy footsteps on his end pick up and then halt just as quickly.

“You think you can taunt me?” He murmurs, dangerous and deadly quiet. “Show me exactly where you are, disappear and then make me waste forever trying to get there? You think that’s gonna work?”

Your eyebrow lifts, considering. He… may or may not have predicted your strategy perfectly, but his insight has stopped surprising you by now. “Maybe…”

“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”

Ooh. That one sends goosebumps down your arms, but you’ve gained four hours on top of a twelve hour headstart. He can’t scare you with that tone, not when you’re still woozy with pleasure and he isn’t right in front of you. Instead of wilting beneath the hard threat, you just blink gently at the communicator, finding strength in being the only one to get him this mad when he’s always so composed, this talkative when he barely says a word. “Maybe I’ll just stay here then?”

“Maybe you wanted me to know you’re in an inn because you already found someplace to hide that isn’t one,” Din reasons very, very adeptly. Stars, your heart subtly begins to pick up, your legs continuing to tremble as the small red light next to the lens stares you down. “Can’t be planning to stay with someone you just met because you’d already be there, can’t be going to a hostel because you found the one city on this moon built for commerce and not aid. Not staying in another inn, you can’t afford it—the view looks high up, that robe is expensive, and you already bought food and at least five pairs of shoes in two days. I don’t think the place you found is even in Nariss. You think you can outsmart me, sweet girl?”

The chill down your spine doesn’t reach your eyes, you won’t let it. You just feel yourself smile, tilting your head at him and licking your lips while your finger brushes one of your nipples, but Din doesn’t accept your silence the way you’ve always accepted his. He wants an answer from you, right now, and it’s clear in the dark rumble of his voice, the danger slowly brewing beyond what you originally planned for.

“Tell me,” he orders, unamused and leaving no room to disobey. “How long do you think you can keep running?”

Your eyelashes flutter, suddenly deciding… why not? What have you got to lose? Nothing that you didn’t already go into this situation completely expecting to lose anyways. What’s the worst he can do? Find you?

You close your eyes, pinching one of your nipples and wondering if you might just go for another one since he’s still here. “Ask me again tomorrow.”

But then, instead of immediately responding, you just hear Din’s footsteps suddenly pick up, faster than any pace you’ve been able to keep over the past few days. You don’t think it sounds like a run necessarily, but you know that his legs and strides are far longer than yours and it’s probably pretty much equivalent to a run for you. You hear the rhythm of your demise speeding up, coming closer and closer, and everything in you both fears it and welcomes it.

“We’ll see,” he tells you, and then the red light vanishes and your earpiece clicks to silence.

***

Day 3—2:23am:

Even though it takes you much longer to do so than it normally would on a bed so large and comfortable, after such an exciting interaction and not being used to flickering light when you try to sleep but wanting to experience the rarity anyways, you’re eventually able to pass out.

But, not even a few minutes into a restless dream, you turn over and accidentally knock your communicator off the wireless charging station on the side table. It blinks with four percent battery life.

***

To be continued!!

#the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian #smut #reader insert #fanfic #rough day #no-droids #tw: stalking

6K notes · View notes

joshslater · 3 years ago

Text

Dionysus

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

I was very hesitant when he picked me up at the nightclub. I could feel the disappointment and outright hostility from all the women and a lot of the men as the God walked up to me, started to make out, and then asked if I was up for some fun. That's what you get away with when no one ever says "no" I thought. With his incredibly handsome face, black hair, and athletic build that was probably not a word he was used to hearing. It would be impossible for him to know I was into guys, and coming on so strong could land you in hot water or rather knocked cold on the floor. Turns out he could know, and there was more to him than just utter handsomeness and unparalleled confidence. Way more.

It was back at his place he asked me if I could look like someone else, who would I pick? That's a game I've played many times before, so I instantly knew to answer Marco Albieri, the soccer player. He raised an eyebrow, took a step from me, and asked me why. "I don't know what it is about soccer players, but something about the game makes their bodies stunningly handsome. And Marco is just a step above the rest." He smiled a bright smile, made a dramatic gesture, and I was Marco. Looked exactly like him at least. It took me a moment to even realize what had just happened, but I could see myself in the full-length mirror. Or I couldn't, I should say. I saw Marco Albieri in full Paris Saint-Germain F.C. game kit. Mesmerized I took a step closer to the mirror, and Marco on the other side of the glass stepped closer as well. I looked just like him, my wettest, wankiest dream. I'd come so many times to exactly this fantasy. There was even a sheen of post-game sweat making all the skin glistening in his hallway designer lights.

He approached me from behind, still handsome but now by a much narrower margin. "You ready to fuck?" I didn't even answer but just turned around and kissed him. He wasn't shy in grouping me back. What followed was the longest fuck fest I've ever been part of. We went from room to room. It was like this body had limitless stamina, though it was the body of Marco after all, but an insatiable horny lust as well. Perhaps he had that too. It wasn't until early morning I fell asleep next to him, exhausted.

It was almost noon when I woke up, disoriented by everything. It was like it wasn't until now the craziness and impossibility of last night hit me. I could see Marco Albieri in the mirror at the other side of the bedroom, without shirt, and the most unkempt hair I had ever seen him with. I knew for a fact the secret hairstyling trick was body fluids. I suddenly felt very uneasy and exposed. Vulnerable even. I was here on vacation. How could I leave if I didn't look like my passport? How could I leave this building looking like Marco? There would be fans stopping me instantly. What the fuck am I thinking about? I'm erased from the world. No one I know, no one in my family would recognize me. Could I convince them I'm me and not a millionaire soccer player? Perhaps. But my life would be so complicated.

That's when he lazily strolled into the bedroom, completely naked showing off his chiseled body, one mug in each hand.

"You did this! How the fuck did you do this? You can't leave me like this!" "Morning!"

He handed me one of the mugs. On reflex I took a large sip of coffee only to discover it was red wine. It took me by surprise and I almost sprayed his white sheets with red mist of wine, but instead got some down my lungs and started to cough.

"Is this really the best you can think of?" he said. At first I had no idea what he meant. Then, still coughing, I realized it was my body again. The one I used to fly here, check into the hotel, and go out to nightclubs with.

"I... It's awfully inconvenient if I tried to leave with a different body." "That's it? That's the only reason?"

I felt stupid and unsure what to say. I liked my body, so why was it so hard to defend it? He took a large sip from his coffee mug of wine and climbed into bed next to me, but standing on his knees looking down on me.

"When's your flight back?" "Eh, in... On Sunday." "Plenty of time to let loose. How about going to the beach like this?"

This time I noticed the shift. The bed sagged down a bit under the extra load and I didn't even have to look in the mirror to see the freakish muscles. Two huge chest muscles peeked into my field of vision, and moving my arm I could see it was thicker than what my legs used to be.

I felt light-headed as we walked down to the beach. Probably the wine. He was subtle and classy, black Nike sneakers, black boardshorts, and a white T-shirt. I was anything but subtle. Probably twice his mass, annoying flip flops that flipped and flopped every step, white compression shorts that looked blindingly bright against my deep tan, a purple thong that peeked up over the rim of the shorts by the hips, visible because the neon yellow tank top was cropped above the belly button to show off the abs. The stringer waved for every step as my obscene pecs push out the yellow fabric like a hanging flag. It touched my body in surprisingly few places. Top of the traps and the nipples more or less.

After spending a few hours getting everyone passing by on the beach to turn their heads to observe the freak show he asked me to play floatation device for him. We went out in the water and did our best to have sex just outside where the waves broke. I think anyone who paid close attention could tell what we did, but no one could be really sure. He didn't appear to care.

"I made you something," he whispered. "What?" "A surfer," he said and begun walking towards the beach. As I wiped my long hair out of my face I understood he changed me again. No more shaved head, no more enormous meat slab. I still had a six-pack, I was still 6'-something, and my skin was deeply tanned, but that's about where the similarities ended. "Why?" I asked as I lied down on the beach towel next to his. "First dive bar opens soon, and I thought this would play better to the crowd." I was feeling woozy. "We want to play to the crowd?" He reached over and squeezed the pec closest to him. "Well, make them jealous at least."

There was something nagging at the edge of my thoughts. Some question I felt I needed to ask. I just couldn't quite put it into coherent thought.

"Did you drug me?" He made a high-pitched "Mmmm" sound. "Just a bit. To fit with the rest. Just go with it."

I shut my eyes, relaxed, and let his hand stroke me. I don't know how long we lied like that. Not too long, because the sun hadn't moved that much, but I sure did dozed off.

"Come on!" he said, like it was asking me to hurry up for the third time. A bit confused I got up from the beach towel. I wore a pair of eye-popping turquoise board shorts with black pattern and trim. Neon turquoise, if such a color was a thing. I knew it had a real trade name, but somehow it kept slipping my mind. They had a good fit, not loose, not tight, but rode low on my lithe body. Fuzzy pubes peeked out over the waistband, like a little forest edge where the treasure trail from the belly button ended. I looked around for a shirt or something to put on, but there was nothing except for a pair of flip-flops. These didn't look as cheap and fit much better than the previous pair though.

"Is that it?" I asked incredulously. "What more do you need?" he said, and looked at me like he wanted me for dinner. "Come!"

The bar wasn't far away and already busy when we arrived. He almost danced in, basically dragging me in, holding my hand. I was woozy from whatever I was drugged with, but in a way that made everything look amazing to me. In any direction I looked I was delighted by what I saw, no matter how mundane. The bar was not even half full and everyone looked as relaxed as you would expect from a bar half a block from the beach, though no one else was bare-chested. The decor was a random mix of styles, as expected by a dive bar. Tables for two or four were lined up in front of the bar at the back of the room. From a backroom somewhere behind it pumped music. I looked at my watch to see if it was already dance time, but I was only wearing a red nylon cord as a bracelet.

"You must be thirsty after a day in the sun," he said and handed me an Aperol Spritz. I could have sworn he hadn't left me for the bar, but then I didn't really trust my senses. We took a table for four and sat next to each other, facing the rest of the room. "So, tell me about your day," he continued, as if he hadn't been there for all of it.

For whatever reason I found it hard to figure out where to start, like it was all jumbled together despite nothing of consequence had happened. I began to describe how I had woken up in bed and how he surprised me with breakfast. How I had mistaken the red wine for coffee. I could feel his hand moving down my abs and into my board shorts. As he pulled out my erect cock from the shorts my immediate thought was of surprise. I hadn't realized I was hard. I continued to talk about how we went to the beach, while he was jerking me off with one hand under the table. It then hit me that I had no idea what my dick looked like, if it was big or small. I had never seen it. He had transformed me somehow into this surfer. How could I have forgotten something so monumental.

At that point I shot my load under the table. Four or five large pumps. I was suddenly aware again that there were people around us, and looking around tried to figure out if any of them could see I had my dick out. At the same time I was still feeling high or whatever it was. "I'll get a refill," he said, stood up and headed for the bar. I decided to put my dick back into the shorts.

"Hey, dude. Is he like your boyfriend?" someone standing next to me asked. How long had he been there? He was handsome, not quite as tall as I was now, but more muscled. The tight billabong shirt didn't hide much. "Him? No. We just..." I was trying to think of a good word. I wasn't sure what he was, or what was happening at all really. "Wanna check out the dance floor?" "Yeah... Yeah, I would."

I followed him towards the bar, and away to the side into the dance room. It was far from packed, but we were not alone at least. Immediately I regretted following him there, even before he started moving to the music. Once he did I knew I would look silly. I started to mimic his moves best I could. He smiled a crooked smile, though not an unkind one, when he saw what I was doing. He leaned forward and barely audible over the music asked "Are you up for a second round?"

"What do you mean?" I asked back. "I saw what that other dude did to you. I live nearby, if you want to try something that isn't over in minutes."

In the door opening I see him standing with two large drinks in his hands. He looks emotionless, which in itself was a scary contrast to how he looked before. He then drinks one of the drinks in one go, then immediately empties the other one as well. No sooner has he turned away with two empty glasses when I feel a desperate need to take a piss. He's fucking with me.

"Don't go anywhere," I say and dash towards to men's room.

It's empty. I go to the lone urinal and yank my dick out of the white thong. I'm confused, but happy I got there in time to relieve myself. Why am I wearing only a white thong to a bar? As the piss is streaming for longer than I can ever recall I look down my bare smooth legs and find a pair of eye-catching red hightops. When I'm finally done I have a look at myself in the mirror. Cute, young Latino boy with a red baseball cap on his unkempt hair, and a grey shirt. The shirt in a way makes the thong stand out even more and look intentionally inappropriate. Perfect!

I return to the dance floor and find the guy waiting. "There you are. Let's go!" he says, almost demanding. He doesn't say anything on the way to his apartment two blocks away. I keep looking his way, and it feels like my dick is growing bigger every time I look at those muscled arms. His pace is brisk without being conspicuous, he clearly wants us to get to his place as quickly as possible without being seen. In through an unlocked entrance, up two flights of stairs, and in through his apartment door.

As soon as he whisked me in and closed the door behind us he grabs me, shoves me into the wall next to us, and forcefully kisses me on my mouth. "You fucking whore! I'm so fucking horny you better know what you're doing."

He snores loudly again. I had tried to ignore it to spend a few more hours in the bed, but it's getting pointless to try to sleep any more. I carefully get up and get dressed. No need for a shower, now that everything dried. I make a final check I got everything with me that I brought in. There is that nagging feeling that I'm missing something. Well, whatever it was it can't be important. Quietly I exit his apartment and make my way out of the building. I feel restless being so quiet and calm, like it is unnatural for me to be that way. I basically explode in emotions as I exit the building and literally dance down the last few steps.

I try to think what to do next. My mind is like a spinning punch bowl of thoughts and I'm only able to fish out simple verbs. Party! Drink! Dance! Fuck! The sun is barely up, but perhaps I can find some nightclub still open.

406 notes · View notes

xxxsweetdreamzxxx · 3 years ago

Text

warnings/tags: dom!Jaehyun sub!reader, fanfic, smut; cursing, hook up, fingering, cunninilingus, unprotected sex, cream pie

summary: a chance meeting while shopping for bathing suits turns your summer vacation a little hotter

word count: 4.4k (help)

===============================

this was interesting to write as the beginning and ending are based off of separate dreams this time, so hopefully I was able to link them in a way that made sense. please enjoy!!

===============================

"How does this look?" You asked your friend Jamie, holding a skimpy neon bikini set to your body.

It was the first full day of your annual summer beach trip with your bestie, and you'd arrived in the seaside town you always traveled to late last night. After eating a mediocre breakfast provided by your hotel, the two of you had headed to a nearby mall to buy new swimsuits. She'd had luck finding one relatively quickly. But the reason you were still there, on the second story of a large department store several hours later, was because you had yet to.

She made a face. "No offence, but it's not really your style..."

Sighing, you put it back on the rack. "I know."

Rounding the stand that contained the bikini you'd just put back, you briefly glanced over at the neighboring section, which had swim trunks. Movement had caught your eye, caused by three guys walking through. You barely even paid attention to them at first glance, but the one in the back caught your eye, and you did a double take.

At this second glance, you saw they were all young, probably close to your age, and very attractive. 'Are they models?' You wondered. But again, it was the one behind the first two that really made you look on in awe. He had muted fluffy purple hair that covered his forehead, and dark eyes that shone like diamonds even from this distance. His soft features and perfect skin made you wonder if he was an angel. His thin white shirt hugged what was probably toned muscle underneath. When the taller of his two friends said something funny, he smiled and oh my God, he had the cutest dimples.

At that moment, he shifted his eyes up and saw you standing there, staring. Like a deer caught in headlights you froze, embarrassed as fuck you'd been caught. But his smile only widened, and he gave you a slight nod in greeting.

Ripping your gaze away, you acted like nothing had happened and tried to return to shopping.

"Oh wow y/n, you saw those guys right?" Jamie exclaimed, following you. "Now that's what I'd call eye can-"

You interrupted her, face flushed, by holding up a pale blue gingham bikini. "What about this?"

Before she could answer, her eyes focused on something behind you, mouth falling open slightly. A deep voice then responded to your question. "I think it looks cute."

You whipped around, only to come face to face with the man you couldn't keep from staring at. Your eyes widened and you gulped, startled. Up close, he was simply breathtaking. Literally; you felt your breathing become strained as your heart pounded in your chest.

"Th- Thank you, um..?" You stuttered before taking a deep breath.

"Jaehyun." He answered.

"Ah, Jaehyun." Damn, even his name was cute. You gave him a shaky smile. "So I should get it?"

"Definitely." He encouraged. He then looked to Jamie, who'd been speechlessly watching the exchange. "What do you think?"

Turning around, you waited to see her response. After looking between the two of you for a couple of seconds, she grinned and gave a thumbs up. You weren't sure if she was approving of the bathing suit or...

"Hey, what are you guys doing the rest of today?" Jaehyun asked.

"Oh, not much." You replied quickly, not planning to elaborate.

"We'll just be at the beach!" Jamie said louder and at the same time, speaking over you. "Wanna come with?"

You gave her a look, trying to shut her up. She looked back at you as if to say 'what?'

He smiled. "Sure. Let me ask the boys if it's okay with them."

He beckoned the two of them over, who didn't hesitate to comply. Jamie introduced you and her to the group, as you were still majorly distracted by the million thoughts running through your head. The tallest of the three then introduced himself as Johnny, a friendly guy with a round face and sculpted arms that were on full display thanks to the tank he wore. The other was Mark, who shyly said hi to you and Jamie. He had a boyish and youthful aura about him that made you immediately assume he was the youngest. They both readily agreed to head to the beach.

Still not fully registering what had just happened, you walked to the check out in a near trance and bought your swimsuits. Then you exited the mall, and made your way to the parking lot. Jaehyun went to get his car while the rest of you waited at Jamie's. When he pulled up, the guys got in. After quickly entering her car with her, Jamie pulled out of the parking lot and followed them as they lead the way to the beach.

"Y/n, you okay?" She asked, taking her eyes off the road for a split second to glance at your face. Your prolonged silence had prompted her to speak.

You removed yourself from your racing thoughts. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just surprised."

She grinned. "Well, today's not gonna be boring, that's for sure. It'll be a lot more eventful than if we'd hung out at the beach by ourselves."

You nodded in agreement. You knew there wasn't much harm in doing this - there would be plenty of people on the beach around you - they couldn't try anything. And besides, you didn't even get those vibes from them. That wasn't what made you uneasy. It was the thought of spending a day at the beach with such attractive guys that made the tips of your ears turn pink and your heart rate increase. You just prayed you wouldn't say or do something utterly embarrassing.

Jamie drove into the public beach parking behind their car, parking a few spaces away from them. Exiting the car, you and her first made your way to the bathrooms to change. This beach was well maintained, a stone walkway lead to them and then continued on and up to a wide bridge that arched over the barrier dunes and then down onto the sand. Palm trees provided shade, which was made good use of as it seemed wherever a tree cast a shadow there was a cool bench to sit.

Locking yourself into a stall in the women's bathroom, you undressed and then pulled on your brand new swimsuit. Thankfully, despite not being able to try it on in the store, it fit extremely well. The gingham pattern, pale blue color, and small ruffles on the waistband and straps made you conclude this was the cutest bikini you'd ever seen. Exiting the stall, you briefly peered into the mirror above the sinks to pull your hair into two low pigtails.

Turning back around, you found Jamie standing there in her new suit, smiling at you.

"Ready y/n?" She asked.

You took a breath before replying. "Yep."

Arm in arm, you walked out to meet the boys, who'd already changed and were standing there waiting, beach bags in hand. Johnny got excited as he spotted you both and practically ran towards beach, Mark trying to keep up with him. Jaehyun looked unbothered as he stayed behind to walk at a normal pace with you. By the time you'd crossed over the sand dunes and strolled onto the beach, Mark and Johnny had already found a good place a little ways away to set up. They'd brought two large towels, big enough for multiple people to sit on, and had spread them out over the sand.

Jaehyun sat down on one, then patted the ground next to him, motioning for you to sit next to him. After a few seconds of contemplation you complied, folding your legs to the side as you still kept a couple feet of distance from him. Jamie sat down with Johnny and Mark on the other towel.

For the next hour or so, the five of you talked about various topics in an effort to learn more about each other. Gradually, you loosened up as you got used to their company. Johnny and Mark were college friends of Jaehyun's, who'd came into town a few days before you to visit him where he now lived on the coast. Funnily enough, the two boys were staying in the same hotel as you and Jamie while they did so - it was the closest to Jaehyun's apartment.

Noon came and went, and the air continued to heat up around you until it was unbearable. You looked out at the ocean water longingly, but didn't want to leave by yourself, and the others seemed to be having such a great time...

Glancing over at you, Jaehyun made a suggestion. "Who's up for the water?"

Despite your assumptions, the agreement was unanimous. As one, you all rose and ran towards the rolling sea, chasing each other. Diving into the waves, you ran out until the water was up to your waist. Johnny swam out farther than any of you, while Jamie and Mark stayed in slightly shallower water.

You heard the sound of someone sloshing around in the water directly behind you. Spinning around, you were met with his chest - his white shirt was now wet and you could see some of the muscles through it - as your eyes widened and you looked up into Jae's eyes. He smiled down at your face, less than a foot away, dimples on full display.

"Hi." He said in a way that made your heart melt. Then: "Feel better?"

"Y- yeah, it was really hot before." Your words betrayed your body - being in the water wasn't cooling you off at all anymore.

You stood there for a few awkward moments in silence, not knowing what to say.

"Um-" You began.

"Woah y/n look out!" He cut you off, sudden panic on his face as he closed the small distance between the two of you.

Suddenly, a large wave crashed into your back. It pushed you straight into the only thing that would keep you standing - his body. Instinctively, you gripped onto his shirt tightly so you didn't fall, tugging it towards you. He didn't hesitate to wrap his strong arms around your waist to steady you. Only after the wave had passed did you realize what you'd done, quickly releasing the fabric from your hands. But he didn't let go.

"Are you okay?" He asked, worry in his tone.

You nodded, heart pounding loudly in your ears. However, you were shaking slightly.

He began leading you back towards the shore, not convinced. Stumbling onto the hot sand, he guided you back to the towels, sitting you down once you got there. Getting a smaller towel, he wrapped it around you so you could dry off, then he sat down next to you.

You looked at him, embarrassed. "You can go back if you want, I'll be fine here."

"No, I'm good." He leaned back a bit. "I'm not much of a swimmer anyways."

He then lifted his arm and ran his fingers through his damp hair, brushing it back off his forehead. You gulped, incredibly bothered by the motion.

He looked at you with a slight smirk. "Thirsty?"

"Yeah." You replied.

Smirk widening, he handed you an unopened water bottle. You drank, trying desperately to calm down.

Jamie ran up to you, Mark following close behind. "Y/n are you okay?" She asked, confused and concerned. "What happened?"

You explained without including the details that made you blush when you thought of them. She sat on the towel next to you, deciding not to go back out. Mark followed suit and shortly after Johnny joined you again when he realized everyone was out of the water.

After a bit, you began to get hungry and got up to try and find some food. Luckily, there was a food truck nearby with some cheap lunch. Returning to the towels, you ate in relative silence as the sun moved slowly west overhead. The rest of the afternoon was spent walking, playing with a frisbee, and sunbathing. You noticed Jaehyun seemed to be keeping you within a few feet of him the entire time, never leaving you alone or with the others. Even when you went back out with Jamie into the shallow water, he followed - even though he tried to appear like he wasn't.

.•°•. ♡ .•°•. ♡ .•°•. ♡ .•°•.

Once the sun went down, everything was packed up and taken back to the cars. You threw back on your shorts from earlier before heading to a nearby bar, open to the sea and cool night air. It was already crowded with many tourists, and once you entered you quickly lost sight of the others, later catching a glimpse of Jamie talking to Johnny off to the side with a drink in hand.

Seeing the bar, you made your way over to it by yourself and sat on one of the barstools. You beckoned the bartender over to order your drink.

"What can I get for you?" She asked, polishing a glass.

"A margarita please." you answered.

She then looked at the seat next to you. "And you sir?"

"A margarita for me too, thanks." A familiar voice answered.

You turned around in your seat to face Jaehyun, blinking at him.

He smiled and nodded in greeting, those adorable dimples reappearing on the corners of his mouth. Feeling your face heat up, you quickly turned to look at the bartender as she made your identical drinks.

You cleared your throat a little. "So... you like margaritas too?"

He chuckled softly at your attempt to break the awkwardness. "Truthfully, I've never tried one. Thought tonight was good first time."

You could feel his eyes on you, boring into your soul in an attempt to get your attention. When you couldn't take it any longer and tilted your head to look at him, his eyes immediately met yours. A slight smirk spread across his lips.

When your drinks were served, he was the first to take a sip, eyes not leaving you for a millisecond. You drank and shifted in your seat, fully aware of how he was checking you out as his eyes began to roam. You wondered if maybe you should've put on a shirt over your bikini top to cover yourself better. But that thought was quickly dismissed as a new one took its place. You liked it - the way his attention was focused on no one but you. There were plenty of other hot girls there that night, but he paid them no mind.

The hours drifted by as those around you melted away and it felt like you and Jae were the only two in the entire world. The music and voices of patrons were only a buzz in the distant background as you focused on his soft words. You found you enjoyed each others company - he made you comfortable with the idea of spending as much time in it as possible.

When the clock struck ten, you could feel the beginnings of fatigue creeping into your mind. An incoming text made his phone buzz. He checked it, relaying the message to you after briefly lifting up his eyebrows in surprise.

"Your friend's heading back to the hotel with Johnny and Mark, she's driving them there."

"Oh!" You replied in surprise, glancing around the bar but finding them already gone. You knew what was probably going to happen to Jamie, but you didn't voice it.

He looked at you for about a minute before speaking again, slowly. "Do you.. wanna come to my place?"

You met his eyes again, heart and mind racing at his invitation. The implications of his question didn't slip by you, they were fully realized. Still, it didn't take you long to make up your mind - in fact, you'd already made it before he'd asked.

"Yes." You replied.

He smiled wide and grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. You quickly slid off your barstool and exited the bar, making for the car. You giggled as he pulled you along. The moon shone down on you from high overhead, lighting the way. Once reaching the car, he opened the passenger door for you and you hopped inside as he then closed it and rounded the car to his seat. Getting in, he started the car and drove out onto the road towards his apartment.

Your mind raced as you made the silent drive to his apartment, listening to the low sounds of the radio coming through the speakers. It only took a few minutes before he was parking, getting out, and coming around to help you out of the car. Grasping your hand tightly again, he lead you into the building. The lobby of his apartment had only dim lights on at this time to illuminate the room. No one was around. Jaehyun took a left after guiding you through the main doors.

"This way." He practically whispered, taking you into the elevator.

He hit the three and the doors closed, leaving you alone in the small space with him for a few moments. He didn't waste any time in turning you around to face him, closing the gap between you. Locking his lips with yours in a heated first kiss, he backed you up into the elevator wall, driving you up it slightly with his strong arms. You instinctively wrapped your limbs around his body to steady yourself and kissed him back. You could taste both him and the drink he'd had at the bar - the mixture was heavenly.

A ding signified your arrival at his floor, forcing you to part. Thankfully for the both of you, his door wasn't too far away. Pulling you down the hall quickly, Jae stopped at his door and took out his keys, fumbling with them for a few seconds as he tried to rush. When the door was unlocked, he pushed it open, letting you both walk through before harshly closing it again.

For the few seconds it took for him to throw the keys on a small table next to the door you glanced around the dark apartment. Through a cracked door to your left you could make out a bathroom. A small kitchen stretched across most of the right wall from the door, a long bar separating it from the rest of the room. In this main room was both his living area and bedroom. His bed was pushed up against the farthest wall, which was taken up entirely by two giant windows. The moonlight shone through them, illuminating a balcony on the other side that looked out into the night and the street below, where palm trees waved back and forth in a light breeze.

The sudden grip of his large hand on your waist from behind made you jump. He spun you around, and gave you that soul piercing stare that made all your self-control fade away. You leaned in this time, seeing a smirk spread across his face right before you closed your eyes. As soon as your lips brushed against his again, he picked up were you'd left off, kissing you relentlessly and leaving you breathless. Slowly, he backed you up further into the apartment until the backs of your legs bumped up against the edge of the bed as you struggled to bring air to your lungs.

He lifted you just enough to clear the mattress and sit you down on top of it. Climbing onto it himself, he gently laid you down onto the sheets underneath him. He kept himself up with his knees, one on each side of you as he started to move his plush lips down to your neck. He proceeded to mark you, painting several dark spots onto your skin that would surely be there the next day.

"Ah, Jae." You moaned out for the first time, when the tenseness that had been building between your legs became too much to stay silent.

He paused. "What is it princess?"

"I need..." You began, heating up at the petname.

"Yes?" He asked patiently, waiting for your commanding words. He smiled down at you, raising a hand to your cheek to stroke it soothingly.

"You." You finished, meeting his gaze. "I need you."

He smiled wider. "Sure thing."

Removing his hand from your face, he moved it down to the waistband of your shorts. Unbuttoning them with both hands, he slipped them off and down your ankles with ease. Placing his strong hand on your upper thigh, he spread it away from the other and began moving his fingers closer to your heat. Shivering at his touch, you sunk deeper into the bedsheets. He let his fingertips get to the edge of your bikini bottoms, but stopped there, teasing you.

"Hey-" You breathed, scolding him when you realized what he was doing.

He looked down at you, hair messily splayed around your head as your chest rose and fell beneath him. Your skin was beginning to glisten with perspiration, your eyelashes fluttering slightly every time you blinked your half-closed eyes. "Hm?"

You took a moment to respond. "Touch me Jae."

He smiled a dark smile as he brushed your bikini bottoms to the side. The first touch of his fingertips against your slick clit had you lifting your hips up off the bed, curses falling from your lips. He forced them back down, pinning you to the bed with his body. He quickly resumed his actions, running his fingers back and forth over your folds as you moaned at the pleasure. He then suddenly inserted a finger into your dripping core.

"Ah-" You gasped in surprise as he continued, using his thumb to trace circles across your clit. It was all too much for you to handle. He watched as you gradually lost control beneath him, writhing about in pleasure. The dangerous combination of things he was doing to you quickly brought your first high like a rising wave that crashed into the beach before it.

You didn't have time to warn him before your walls clamped down on his finger and your juices spilled out onto his hand, sheets, and down your legs. He let you ride out your orgasm and calm all the way down before removing his finger and sitting up, licking every last bit of you from his fingers. You peered down the bed at him, watching in fascination as he lapped it up like a man starved.

"Shit, you taste good." He complimented, making your face feel flushed.

When his hand was clean, he bent down and stuck his head between your legs. A second later, you felt the flick of his tongue on your inner thigh. He left a trail of wet kisses up it, making his way back up to your heat. Without warning, you felt his lips brush against your folds as he proceeded to use his tongue to clean you up as best he could. His hot breath against your pussy made you squirm and draw your legs up closer to your chest. Once satisfied he sat up again, licking the last of you from his lips.

He then repositioned himself above you. Removing his swim trunks, his hard member sprung free and stood erect, precum trickling from its pink tip. Slipping a couple of fingers into the waistband of your bikini bottoms, he pulled then down your legs, leaving them with your shorts at your ankles. Lining up with your entrance, he held himself up with his strong arms, caging you in. You looked up at him, his faded purple hair messy across his face. He gave you a reassuring smile - dimples and all - before pushing into you with ease and rolling his hips down onto yours. Matching the pace he set, you pulled his face back down to yours to kiss him again, softer this time. He complied, kissing you deeper and slower as he pushed further into you with each thrust.

When he bottomed out, he speed up the movement of his hips, gripping yours to bring them closer to his. The lewd sounds of sex filled the apartment, combined with both of your increasingly loud moans.

"Jae." You moaned out, breaking your kisses. You felt the tenseness building in your abdomen again.

He groaned as you felt him twitch inside you. "Fuck, you sound so hot saying my name like that."

He then hit your g-spot with the tip of his cock, pushing you over the edge. You came undone all at once, flexing your walls around him, gasping for air. Seconds later, hot strings of his cum shot through you, spilling out onto the bed along with your own. Riding out your orgasms simultaneously, your heavy breathing gradually quieted until he pulled out and sat up on the bed beside you. Watching him slide off the edge and stand up, your eyes followed him as he made his way to the bathroom entrance, ducking in for a second and returning with a towel.

Climbing back onto the bed, he leaned over you and gently cleaned you up with the towel, being extra careful around your sore clit. When most of it was wiped up, he discarded the towel onto the floor and laid down next to you. You rolled onto your side to look at him in the moonlight.

His skin had a visible sheen to it and his hair was a fucking mess - it stuck partially to his damp skin. But that only made his perfectly sculpted features more beautiful. You felt him wrap his arm around your naked waist, holding you to his body. Brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face, he spoke for the first time in minutes.

"Let's do this again tomorrow."

In your fucked out state, you couldn't respond with much else than an excited nod as you snuggled up to him. He gently kissed your swollen lips, happy.

Brushing your nose with his, he whispered: "Night y/n."

You replied by kissing him back, closing your eyes, and drifting off to sleep in his arms.

343 notes · View notes

ms-starflower · 3 years ago

Text

Young Survivors — Maribat

It’s almost four am here, I just finished writing this and am just tired enough to actually go through and post it. And this title is the only thing my tired brain could come up with. Anyway. I haven't posted something I wrote in years, but all the Maribat I’ve read recently made me want to write something for it.

I don’t know if I’m ever going to write a 2 part, but if I do it’s definitely going to be Timari and contain a couple of typical Maribat tropes. And a pinch of salt.

Also, disclaimer: I haven't watched Miraculous in years and most of my DC knowlege come from fanfic or tumblr so... sorry not sorry.

Now with a part 2!

Next >

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mei Leyton’s oldest memories were of her mother, dolled up in pretty dresses and elegant makeup. In her daughter‘s eyes, Margaret Leyton was the most beautiful woman on earth.

For as long as she could remember, Mei would sit on the bed and watch as her mom would get ready to head to work. She had always loved those moments with her mom.

(How do I look, my little flower,” she said, twirling around Mei with a grin, making her laugh. It was Margaret’s favorite dress, a vintage halter blue dress with white accents and a white bow around the waist.

“Like a princess, mommy! The prettiest princess ever!”

“Oh no, no no no. You are the prettiest princess ever, my little flower.”)

She was four when her mother let her help for the first time, letting her pass along brushes and products. It’s then that she understood what were the purple marks on her mother that she covered with her makeup.

(“Life is not fair to us, my little flower,” she had said when Mei asked about it for the first time. “Being an orphan and pretty little girl in Gotham isn’t safe, and it doesn’t give much choice when it comes to survival.”

Mei didn’t understand then, but it didn’t matter anyway, life would make her understand soon enough.)

When Mei was seven, the GCPD found her mother’s body.

When she didn’t see her that morning, Mei hadn’t been worried; it wasn’t the first time. Mom would be home by noon, she always was. Until that day.

(The investigation wouldn’t get very far, it was just another prostitute of Camellia street, nobody cared about them. They were just there until they weren’t anymore.

Another girl would take her place in a couple of days. It was how those kinds of things worked in Gotham.)

That day was kind of blurry in her memory. She remembers being pulled out of class in the morning, and that the cop that told her about her mother’s death was very rude.

(“Your mom is dead, kid. A lad found her body in a dumpster this morning,” the guy had said as soon as she had sat down in the headmistress’ office. “Do you know who she worked for? Or on what side of the Camellia she stayed?” He had asked, halfheartedly.

Mei had shaken her head, even though she did; you don’t talk to cops in Gotham, mom always says said that it was the easiest way to get yourself killed, for people like them.

“Alright,” he had said, not surprised. “A social worker is going to pick you up in a bit to take you to your new home, kid.”

With that he had walked out of the office, not looking back. As if where she would end up was going to be home.)

She remembers that the social worker from CPS was a brunette with tan skin, and looked really overworked, but had a kind smile.

By the end of the day, she was taken to Elliot's Hall for Children, an overcrowded, understaffed orphanage with more kids than they could realistically care for.

(They don’t care for the children, they just put them there for a while and act as they do. Most children leave after a couple of days, and if they don’t, they get taken anyway.

Some come back with a police escort, some manage to survive in the streets, and nobody talks about the ones that are never seen again.

You don’t work there because you love children, and if you do, you don’t last for very long.)

Mei wasn’t stupid, her mother told her stories about those kinds of places. She came from those kinds of places, and Mei saw how the man in charge here had looked at her when the social worker dropped her off.

She wasn’t going to just stand here and wait for him to sell her back in Camellia street. Or worse, to the Candy Dealers.

Taking with her what she absolutely couldn’t leave behind, Mei made a choice her mother hadn’t been able to and took her chance with the streets.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mei was a Camellia kid and, as such, took to the streets easier than most newcomers. She had picked up a few tricks from her aunties and her mom, and it helped her to survive out here.

The only (glaring) differences were the absence of her mother, the lack of a permanent roof above her head, and the fact that she had to provide food and money herself now.

(One of her favorite places to pick up wallets was Gotham Academy, where Gotham’s rich send their children. The kids always had money on them, and it’s not like they would miss it.

Though she couldn’t go too many times in a row, not without risking being spotted and remembered.)

She had been on the streets for two months when she met Jason Todd; the boy who would become her family.

She heard him before she saw him, to be honest. It was an awful crashing noise coming from around the corner, and it made her look.

He was running like the devil was after him, and judging by how the cops running behind him were clutching their batons, she wasn’t that far from the truth.

The noises were because of a couple of trash cans the boy had spilled in their way to slow them down.

And he was coming her way.

Against her better judgment, she grabbed his arm when he passed in front of her, and pulled him behind her into her hideout. Quickly getting the plank of wood back in place, she put her hand on his mouth before he could say anything. With the dumpster in the alley, the entry was almost invisible from outside.

They stayed there as they heard the men pass in front of their hiding place, listening as they argued about where the boy could have disappeared before their voices faded completely.

They waited another couple of minutes before he removed the hand she still had on his mouth and crawled out of there.

“Thanks,” he muttered with a scowl. “I woulda’ve been just fine without help but… yeah, anyway.” Then he had started to walk in the direction he came from.

“Hey! Wait!” She said before she could think about it. “Are ya just gonna, like, go? Just like that?”

“Huh, yeah? What do ya want me to do?” He asked, looking back at her from above his shoulder without stopping his walk. “Stay to drink a cup of tea and talk about the weather?”

“Well.. no. But I just… I just wanna talk a bit, ya know?” She couldn’t really explain why she didn’t want him to leave yet, it’s not like he was the first street kid she had helped out. He just felt different, and somehow she knew he could become important to her.

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed before turning his head back to look forward. “The streets are not some daycare for princesses who want to make friends, kid.”

“Kid— hey, dumbass, you’re, like, ten years old! You’re a kid too! And I’m not a princess, I can survive alone just fine!” Before she knew it, she was walking behind him, the weird feeling forgotten for the offence his comment created. He looked back at her with a frown, before choosing to ignore her. Not letting that deter her, she rambled at him about all the ways why she wasn’t a kid any more than him.

“I thought you could survive alone?” He said, talking over her, when he realized that she wasn’t going to let him be.

“I can.”

“So why are ya following me? Tryin’ to drive me crazy?”

“Well, no. It’s just... that I can do it doesn't mean I want to.”

“Look, kid,” he said, ignoring her protest and talking over her, again. “You should just go back to whatever orphanage you came from, there is probably some nice little family who's gonna pick you up. Then you could make all the friends you want.”

“Like people actually adopt kids in this city. This is Gotham, you dummy, not ‘Annie’. Some rich white guy isn’t going to come and pick up children from the streets to make them live the Grand life.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever,” he growled out without pausing in his steps. “Still, you’re pretty enough, I’m sure some nice people would adopt you in a second if you let them.”

“Yeah, sure. Mom thought the same when she was a kid, and guess what? She started working on Camellia street when she was fourteen, but nobody asked her if she wanted to. Because she was pretty enough,” the little seven years old spat with venom, her eyes narrowed. The boy stopped walking, turning toward her with eyes wide, like a deer caught in headlights. “Her best friend wasn’t, but mom said that she had the prettiest green eyes ever. When they found her body, she didn’t have eyes anymore, because some rich person paid to have pretty green eyes.”

“I— I didn’t—” he stuttered, eyes wide. With his scowl gone he looked so much younger, and Mei’s anger subdued. He wasn’t that much older than her, just a couple of years, maybe three or four, after all.

“It’s… okay, I guess. It’s Gotham. I just thought we both would have more chances to survive if we helped each other out. And, ya know, the company wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, but when they resumed walking he slowed down enough to let her walk beside him without almost-running.

“Great! So, Annie, where are we going now?” She said with a beaming smile, bursting into laughter at his indignation and protest against the nickname.

(“Can’t you stop calling me Annie already?! I told you my name’s Jason!”

“Nope, Annie.”

“Well, then, that makes you Sandy, doesn't it? Ya do follow me around like a stray puppy.”

“I’m not a dog— wait, hold on a minute! I knew you saw the movie! You liar!”)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was ten when her life was put upside down once again, in the worst of ways.

It took practically no time before Jason “Annie” Todd became her brother in all but blood, it took longer for Jason to admit it, and they spend almost three years surviving together, barring the occasional trip back to the Children's Houses.

Though, they always found each other a couple of days after they escaped from those places.

Sometimes, Jason would plan something that he needed to do alone. Because of course, he did.

(“It’s the best job, my plan is perfect. Don’t worry, it’s gonna be great Sandy!”

“Yeah, and why can’t I come?”

“It’s too dangerous! Plus, you need to stay here and keep our things safe!”

“Yeah, if you say so, Annie.”)

That day was one of those days.

He was gone for less than an hour when they found her.

The Candy Dealers.

Mei paled when she saw them, wearing their nice suits and overly sweet smile. They told her they were social workers, specializing in homeless children, and offered her a lollipop. Social workers in Gotham don’t give candy to the kids, even the nice ones, and she knew from her time in Camellia street that the lollipop was drugged.

(“Never, ever, take candy from a Candy Dealer, Mei. Do you understand me? Never,” her mother told her gravely. “They put bad stuff in them, and if you put it in your mouth, they will take you away from me. I couldn’t live without you in my life, my little flower.”)

She tried to run, even before the first one got his hand totally outstretched toward her. But her panic made her stumble, and she was no match for them.

She tried to kick, and scream, and bite, but soon she felt a pinch in her neck, and everything was black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next period of her life was one she tried very hard to forget. For months she was moved, her and dozens of other people, from containers to containers, warehouse to warehouse. Twice they were put in a boat, the containers staying closed for so long, the next time she saw the moonlight, it burned her eyes.

She quickly learned that it was pointless to try to escape (and that Jason wouldn’t come and save her).

Then, one night, the place they were at was illuminated with blue and red lights and the police sirens were so loud, they drowned everything else.

She didn’t let herself hope, though. (She did, she hoped so hard her chest hurt.)

They (probably) weren’t in Gotham anymore, but her childhood didn’t instill her much trust in the police.

They did get them out. And she learned that they were in Paris now. In France. (That was a long way from Gotham.)

There were twenty-seven other people with her in the container. Four of which were kids, and only one other was also an orphan. They weren’t placed together, though. Because the kid had family back where he came from. Unlike her. (She had Jason. He was her family, but they didn’t listen.)

The French social workers took a while to know what to do with her exactly, but they didn’t want to send her back to Gotham (why not? She wanted to go back and find Jason!). So, in the meantime, they placed her in a foster family—one without any other kid, as per her therapist's advice. (The therapist didn’t know anything. She said Gotham wasn’t good for her, but Jason was in Gotham.)

Funnily enough, it ended up being a more permanent solution than previously considered, because the foster parents, Tom and Sabine, quickly fell in love with the little girl.

Not before long, Mei Leyton became Marinette Dupain-Cheng. (They changed her name to give her a ‘new beginning’ because her therapist thought it would be good for her. She didn’t want to have a ‘new beginning', she wanted to go back, to find Jason, to be the Sandy to his Annie. She was Mei, the Camellia’s kid, Sandy, the street’s kid and it was enough for her. She didn’t want to be Marinette, the bakers’ kid.)

So, when Mei was first put into the care of the Dupain-Cheng household, she regularly tried to run away. It was unsurprisingly harder than in Gotham, though. Tom and Sabine were way more attentive than Elliot Hall’s staff ever was, and more than a third of her tentatives were folded even before she was past the front door.

It took her three months (and forty-three unsuccessful tentatives) before she finally accepted that there would be no way for her to go back to Gotham. (Not that she had known how she would manage to do that before, her plan never got that far.) It took another six months before Tom and Sabine trusted her enough to let her wander the neighborhood alone.

The first thing she did the day her ‘new parents’ let her go to the library alone was to get to a public computer, and look Jason up. She didn’t really think she would find anything when she typed Jason Todd and Gotham in Google that day (maybe an obituary). She definitely didn't think she would find her best friend (brother) on the covers of so many tabloids declaring that he was Bruce Wayne’s ward.

She didn’t know how she should feel about the fact that he proved her wrong and became some real-life Annie. She wanted to feel angry, or hurt. Even more so when she realised that Wayne adopted him not even a full week after her (kidnapping) departure from Gotham, but…

But seeing Jason in the pictures… He looked so angry. Angrier than she ever saw him. And hurt. There was hurt hidden in his expression. It was well hidden but she could see it. (She did that, she was the one that hurted him. He probably thought she left him. That she wasn’t any better than his deadbeat of a father and abandoned him. What if he hates her now, because she was gone for so long?)

She needed to go back to Gotham, find him, and explain everything. She needed to tell him she didn’t want to leave him behind, that he was her family, and that it would never change. But Tom and Sabine didn’t want to take her back there, not before she was older, because she wasn’t ready yet, they said.

She didn’t care, though. No matter how long it would take her, she was going to go back. So, she slowly started to act like the perfect little girl. She didn’t really change, she just stopped bringing up Gotham so much, started to help more often in the house and at the bakery, and started to call Tom and Sabine Papa and Maman. (It wasn’t real, at first. But then, they just crawled into her heart against her will and became family. They didn’t replace her Mom or Jason, though. Nobody ever will.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

She started to heal. Slowly, without even realising. She opened up to a couple of children at her school, made friends with Nino, and sort of Frenemies (more enemy than friend, though) with Chloé Bourgeois. She picked up hobbies like sewing and designing, baking with Tom, or learning various martial arts with Sabine.

But she didn’t forget, going back to Gotham was still her ultimate goal. Until the news reached her, when she was twelve.

Jason Todd was dead.

Her best friend, her brother in everything but blood, her Annie. Dead. Jason was dead.

She felt like a part of her died with him, reading the words but not really processing. She let herself drown in her grief, closing up to everyone around her. Surprisingly, Chloé was the one that made her react. Literally slapping her to make her come back from the dead. (Not entirely, though. Mei, the Gothamite part of her, stayed dead with Jason. Only Marinette, the nice little parisian, came back.)

“I don’t really know what’s up with you, Dupain-Cheng,” she had said while Marinette cradled her sore cheek, her faux-contempt badly hiding her worry. “But you need to put yourself together. Tormenting you is no fun if you don’t react to it, and people are too worried for you to be afraid of me. Don’t make me call daddy on you.”

“I…” She had started, only to stop herself. She had looked back at Nino and Kim, both of whom were looking at her with poorly concealed worry. “Yeah, sorry Chloé.”

She pulled herself out of the worst of it after that, at the obvious relief of the people around her. None of which even knew why she was in this state. She still cried herself to sleep most nights, and sometimes felt like someone gouged out her heart with their bare hands, but she also started to let herself think of the good times. Started to let herself feel the good things happening around her, in the present.

Then, she saved the life of an old man, found magic earrings and a bug-mouse-kwami in her room that told her that she needed to become a hero and save Paris.

She thought of her big brother, of how he would always protect her when someone tried to rob them. Hide her, before even thinking of himself, when the cops would chase them down, trying to bring them back to Elliot's Hall. Give her all the food when they couldn’t get enough for the both of them. How he was a hero. Her Hero. And, really, there was only one thing she could say to that.

“Tikki, spots on!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

So. That's it. That was fun. I'm going to sleep now, goodnight.

Btw, Jason's super plan that day was totaly to steal the Batmobile's tires.

#maribat #mlb x dc #gothamite marinette #street kid marinette #platonic jasonette #probably a timari btw #timinette if that's how you call it #4am me decided to post it #2pm me could decide to delete it tho

207 notes · View notes

takamishinko · 4 years ago

Note

could I pls request the bakusquad with a close FTM friend . their friend is pretty insecure about his chest . he’s also insecure about what people would think of him being trans . how would the bakusquad react if someone Mineta said something nasty to him ? if you’re uncomfortable w/ this request , feel free to ignore it , I don’t want to make you uncomfortable

have a wonderful day / noon / night 💞

sure u can! hope u have a wonderful day/noon/night too :)

perfect

a/n: this is my writing content for ftm readers i hope i don't offend anyone!

pronouns: he/him, ftm!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of pre-transition, transphobic phrases, sexual harassment, and mineta

_____

you were pretty close friends with the whole bakusquad, close enough to the point where they would not hesitate to throw hands if someone messed with you. they know about your situation and they completely accept you for it.

they all took the news better than you expected. mina was super excited when you first came out to her and even though she had a big mouth she kept yours a secret because she knew how important this was to you, plus you might have not been comfortable about others knowing about it yet. sero was super chill about it and kirishima called you manly right after you came out to him. kaminari on the other hand was having an internal war with himself since he thought you were both pretty and handsome before and after. last but not least, bakugou hit you with a "ha? i don’t care as long as you’re still strong." after you told him.

all the reassuring comments your friends gave you made you feel a lot better about yourself. you had also told some of your other friends in the class like midoriya, uraraka, iida, and asui. they all supported you and since class 1A is pretty open about subjects like this you had nothing to worry about.

however, just because most people have reassured it didn’t mean that you’d just suddenly feel better right away. in a way you still felt different. you were still insecure about what other people around you would think about you, especially your chest area since your hero costume made them very obvious that they've gone through transition before. harsh comments from insensitive bastards still scar your mind deeply. their hurtful words pierced through your heart and mind.

"you'll never be a real boy."

"you're not normal."

words like this break you down bit by bit and destroy your self esteem until you're left feeling worthless and defeated. people like this played a big role in why you never confided anyone in your secret. you feared that they would repeat these words, especially your dear classmates.

after school, sero, kaminari, kirishima, and bakugou had left to do some training while you, mina, and some other people had stayed behind to help clean up and chill in the classroom. it was a nice way to ease yourself. mina was cheerful and funny teasing uraraka about deku, while you and tsuyu were chattering about the test that you took and guessing what mark you both received.

you decided to stay behind a little in class after everyone returned to the dorms. you hummed while watching the sunset. it was a good environment to do some studying in, quiet and peaceful, seeing as there was an important test coming up.

you were just about to start packing up after finishing the last question on the review page until you saw a short purple figure pop up next to the door. it was mineta, the class pervert that everyone tried to stay away from. you didn't like mineta obviously, no one did. you didn’t exactly want to talk to him but you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and assumed he wasn’t here to be grotesque.

why was he just standing there eyeing you up and down? an uncomfortable pricking sensation washed over you so while packing up, you decided to speak to break the awkward silence. "hello mineta, can i help you?"

mineta wore a smug look before the corner of his lips lifted into a snide grin.

"hey~ d/nnn." he mocked, holding the last letter of your previous name.

what..?

your heart fell into your stomach at his words. why the hell was he bringing up your deadname? you balled your shaking fists and tried to calm down before you mauled the smug grape with your quirk.

"it's y/n, and if you don't have anything to say i wanna go back to the dorms." you speak with feigned courtesy as you finished backing up, scooting out of your chair.

"alright alright y/n whatever. say~ what are you doing by yourself all alone in the classroom at this time. perhaps you were waiting for someone?" mineta sing-songed while walking closer to you.

"i was just trying to get some homework finished,” you grit out. “do you mind moving? i would like to leave-"

before you could even finish your sentence you see drool coming out of minetas mouth and his hands doing the signature grabby grabby while his eyes practically drowned in your chest area.

"you’ve probably got a nice pair of boobs huh? even if they’re flat."

mineta mentioning that certain body part broke you. the tears immediately started to accumulate under your eyes, on the edge of spilling. you could've easily pushed mineta away due to how much smaller he was than you, but you didn't have the strength to. you felt even weaker than him and didn't have the will to fight back, your limbs being reduced to jelly. you felt helpless.

mineta on the other hand felt powerful, someone like you with a strong quirk being reduced to something akin to a quivering rabbit gave him a sick sense of pleasure. just when mineta was about to place his hands on you a certain spiky haired blonde rushed into the room and lifted mineta away from you.

"OI SMALL FRY! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOUR HANDS GOING HUH??" bakugou snarled at the midget followed with a strong blast.

kirishima, kaminari, and sero quickly ran into the room. mr. aizawa followed up upon hearing the commotion. his eyes scanned over your distressed form before looking over at a shaken mineta. he assessed the situation and let out a sigh, hands pinching the bridge of his nose.

"mineta, my office, right now." he spoke, voice lacking any sort of amusement.

"b-but" mineta stuttered out.

"now."

mineta froze at the tone of mr. aizawa's voice and left the room with him, his head down. before aizawa left he gave you an apologetic look and told you he'd come back later to talk to you. kaminari followed them out to listen in.

kirishima grabbed your arm gently and sat you down on the chair. "y/n you okay man? he didn't touch you anywhere right?" he questioned worriedly.

"i’m gonna turn that guy into a cocoon, i swear." sero followed up.

you were incredibly surprised at what just almost happened. you almost got harassed by a midget grape but thank goodness your friends were there to save you from him.

"thanks guys." you muttered out while wiping away stray tears.

"of course man! we're always here for you, bakugou heard mineta all the way from across the hall when we came back to grab our stuff and immediately rushed over! you should've seen him, it was like he was running for his life!" kirishima said, chuckling.

bakugou rolled his eyes. "shut up shitty hair, he's in need, of course i’m gonna sprint over. if he ever says that shit to you again, i’ll beat that little fucker up again.

"well you won't have to worry about that anymore because i went to eavesdrop and mr. aizawa said he’s under house arrest for a long time for attempting to sexually harass a classmate." denki’s cheery voice rings out as he walks into the classroom while pointing finger guns at all of you.

your eyes lit up from hearing the good news.

"hey y/n if anyone messes with you be sure to let us know ok?" sero smiles as he puts a hand on your shoulder.

"you're like a brother to us and we won't hesitate to fight anyone who dares to do something like what mineta just did." kirishima spoke, grinning.

"you're perfect just the way you are y/n, and we love you for that! who the hell cares about what others think of you. just be yourself and everyone else will love ya." denki followed up with a smirk.

"dunce face is right, don't worry ‘bout anyone else, not even us if you don't want to. if you're still feeling down i can blast dunce face if you want." bakugou said while chuckling evilly.

the room filled with laughter at kaminari’s protests. thanked your friends for being there for you. you couldn't have asked for a better friend group than them. after a while, the five of you walk back to the dorms. you smile to yourself while the other four bicker and laugh, you wished to live in this moment forever.

#bnha #bnha headcanons #:bnha comfort #bnha x trans reader #bnha x reader #bnha x male reader #bnha x m!reader #bnha x ftm reader #boku no hero comfort #boku no hero x trans reader #boku no hero x reader #boku no hero headcanons #boku no hero x male reader #boku no hero x m!reader #boku no hero acadamia #baku squad #baku squad comfort #baku squad x reader

504 notes · View notes

chaeinedup · 3 years ago

Text

On the other side of the field

pairing: Sim Jaeyun x reader

summary: college was paradise in disguise and the devil somehow made it in.

content warning: Suggestive dialogue and actions

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

Everyone talks about college like it’s a life changing experience and it’s awakening and important to go through at least once, but the only thing I’ve gained from this was a big amount of anxiety and probably depression. It’s all fun and games until you actually get to university and realise its nothing like the movies we’ve all watched growing up.

But not everything is bad I’ve made great friends so far and they do help me in everything I need more specifically when it’s about going out. Because I’m so scared of missing deadlines I almost always end up not going out at night to bars or house parties. No way I’m about to risk my education like that but I do regret it everytime, I want to go but i just can’t. So today my roomate did everything and anything in her power to stop me from staying home.

Roommate: C’mon you stay in all the time, how are you still sane after all the work you do?

Y/N: Who told you I was sane to begin with?!

Roommate: Fair! But you know what I meant. I’ll beg if I have to!!

They kneeled on the ground and put their hands together, I immediately stood up and pulled them upwards.

Y/N: Don’t ever do that again please. And also I have my English paper to turn in next month. I can’t afford any wasted time.

Roommate: Well too bad for you I hid your computer while you were showering.

Y/N: YOU WHAT NOW??!!!

Rommate: HEY no need to yell it’ll be back in your safe hands by noon tomorrow. But only if you go out tonight!!

Y/n: What do you mean ONLY? If I don’t go you can’t keep it forever!!

Roommate: You want to try it out?

Y/N: Where are you guys going anyways? this is important if you want me to leave this room so please don’t tell me it’s some asshole on the football team that’s throwing a party. That’s not the side of the field I want to be in.

Roommate: What if i don’t want to answer that?

Y/N: You only ever say that when its a “yes” because you can’t lie. And you were hoping for me to willingly go?

Roommate: Dumbass why do you think I took your laptop?

Y/N: Touché. But I have nothing to wear so no deal.

Roommate: Not so fast! I prepared an outfit in advance it’s on your first drawer. You.have.no.excuse.MOVE GET DRESSED.

Y/N: How come you’re more prepared for me not wanting to go out than any test we’ve ever taken??

Roommate: Well I guess we’ll never know. NOW GET READY.

I entered the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I really have no saying in this so why even bother to fight it. I started getting ready and I was really impressed with what my roommate picked out for me I guess the love for corsets in this living space isn’t just on my part. Once I was ready i came out and received a ton of compliments from my beloved friends who were all waiting for me already. We decided to walk since the house was just a few minutes away. Part of me is excited about this party but then I remember most of the people that are going to show up love breaking the record of how fast they can blackout, challenge which I never partake in.

We got there and instantly we were welcomed with a big sea of people and the purple led lights on the ceilings and ground.

Y/N: Whose house is this? Cause they really went all out.

Roommate: Oh it’s Jay’s.

Y/N: Jay’s?? as in Park Jongseong?

Roommate: Yes him. I know how you feel about him and his little crew but I’ve met them and they’re all so nice.

Y/N: You met them when?? And it’s not like I don’t like them.

Roommate: If you left your laptop alone for a few nights you would have met them too. But here’s your chance now.

Y/N: Who ever told you I wanted a chance?

Roommate: Sometimes you act like you don’t talk about Jake all the time.

I punched them in the arm.

Y/N: You saying that makes it seem like I’m some kind of weirdo I don’t like that.

Roommate:Sorry it wasn’t my intention buuuut just know i told Jay about it. NOW before you freak out he loved the idea of playing matchmaker and I didn’t even have to mention it.

Y/N: Not you playing matchmaker for me with the sole possibilty of you and Jay hitting it off, you’re unbelievable.

Roommate: Less complaints more dancing come on.

They dragged me to the living room where the so called dance floor was situated and we started dancing along side our other friends. I’m not going to lie I love going out these are my highs of universiy life, too bad they don’t happen often. After a few moments of dancing one of my friends asked for me to go to the bathroom with them and so I did specially because they were already tipsy and the fear of them getting locked in the bathroom by accident was very real since it wouldn’t be the first time.

Once we made it through a huge amount of people and went up the stairs I decided to wait outside so they didnt need to lock anything. Smart decision but it couldn’t have been at a worse time. The bathroom was right next to someone’s bedroom and I wasn’t prepared for who was going to come out of it. Jake Sim, THE Sim Jaeyun. I held the door knob behind me way too tight after locking eyes with him, don’t get me wrong I wasn’t intimidated if anything I was thrilled that he even looked my way, Unfortunetly I had to push all thoughts about him aside because of my friend leaving the bathroom faster than I could process that the door opening.

After getting back downstairs I walked to the kitchen to get myself a drink, as I was pouring liquor onto my cup someone came up behind me and spoke.

???: So what special occasion got you to be here tonight?

I turned around to face the owner of the most beautiful voice I could ever imagine to come out of someone.

Y/N: Who’s asking?

I smirked as I was putting the plastic cup on my lips.

???: Do we really need introductions? Alright I’ll go first. Sir Sim jaeyun, mademoiselle.

He grabbed my hand and kissed the top of it. I can’t believe this is happening not because im flustered but what the fuck is this dude doing.

Y/N: Well Jake I’m Y/N it’s nice meeting you, didn’t know you were french or into old greetings.

Jake: Too taky? Just wanted to impress the english major that’s standing in front of me.

Y/N: Yeah no definetly stick with the sciences, either way A for effort I’ll definetly remember you after this.

As I walked away I could feel his eyes in the back of my head. I was more than happy to be here and so far Jake was showing exactly why I’m into him, A jock who is smarter than anyone in our campus, born with beautiful visuals and as polite as a boy could get. Not to hype myself up but I do have amazing taste.

I went back to the group of people i was with on the dance floor which happened to be right infront of the kitchen so he had clear visions of me and vice versa. I won’t lie knowing he was staring made my ego grow and grow, after all what’s more attracctive than being yourself? Being yourself with intentions. Sure I was having fun but it’s even more fun knowing someone is enjoying it as much as you. As the last chorus of the song dropped we once again locked eyes and i couldn’t help but smirk to him. It’s not fair if he doesn’t know I’m loving the attention. I think that was the last drop because after that he came up to me.

Jake: You know it’s not polite to leave someone talking alone.

Y/N: My apologies monsiour I never intented to hurt your feelings.

Jake: I think you should make it up to me perhaps.

Y/N: I see thinking isn’t your strong point, there had to be a reason why you’re on the football team afterall.

Jake: Oh you’re good at this.

Y/N: Other things too.

Jake: May I have the honours to know what?

Y/N: Play your cards right and you might see it. Now if you excuse me I shall use the restroom sir.

Once I entered the bathroom I locked the door so no one else entered by mistake, or not. After doing what I had to do and fixing myself in front of the mirror a took a big deep breath before unlocking the door and letting someone else use the room. When i was about to go back to the core of the party someone pulled me back and and dragged me to a dark room. Right when I was about to yell the reason why I was here turned on the lights. And to my surprise it wasn’t who I was expecting it to be.

Y/N: Are you crazy??? I was about to scream. I told you to play your cards right, not kidnapp me.

Jake: I’m sorry I just saw my chance and I took it.

Y/N: Listen if you wanted to be punched by me you could’ve just said so.

Jake: Oh so you’re good with your hands? Good to know.

I knew exactly where this was going and I’m more than okay with it.

Y/N: You wanted to know it that bad? Is that why you brought me here?

Jake: Sort of, I was hoping you could show me instead.

He got closer to me until my back was facing the door, God his smirk and scent combined is a recipe for disaster.

Y/N: I don’t know about that but I can counter-offer right?

Jake: A business woman, I see go ahead.

After my desired green light I pushed him onto the bed next to us and sat myself on top of him, wasting no time in connecting our lips. With all the tension that’s been building up through out the night it’s like our bodies are more relaxed than ever just soaking each others touch. The faint sound of the music downstairs and the deseperate moans we’re both letting out mixed with the hold we have on one another is possibly my favourite equation and I can’t even do those. But I can do this, any time, I want to do this whenever I see him. Each time i see him my mind wonders, so many scenarios, so many outcomes and yet somehow I made the best decisions in this game cause it seems like I’m winning.

Every now and then we stop kissing to catch our breaths and the way he looks at me I could swear it was more than lust and desire, behind those beautiful brown eyes I could feel something, something I want to stick around and figure out. But my wishes were cut short when Jay entered the room.

Jay: Okay, sorry I didn’t mean to interrupt specially since i betted on this with your rommate but they need your help.

Y/N: Me?? What happened??

Jay: Well how do I put this... they’re drunk not like puking drunk but dancing on the table drunk and I can’r get them to calm down or go to campus. so could you help.

Y/N: Alright I’ll be right there just give me a minute.

As Jay closed the door I let my body fall on top of Jake’s.

Y/N: I keep forgetting being sober somewhat has disadvantages.

Jake: Hey it’s not that bad, now I know for a fact that you won’t forget me.

Y/N: Is there something you can’t do? You need to stop being charming like that or I won’t be the only girl that doesn’t want to forget you.

Jake: Who said I was like this to other girls, it’s actually my first time kidanapping one. Surprising I know.

Y/N: If I stay here longer I’m gonna commit some sins and I have responsabilities so it’s a shame I can’t go through with them.

I got up and fixed my clothes and hair so no one would make more questions than they’re already going to make. I opened the door and before I could step out Jake pulled me back to his embrace.

Jake: Don’t I get a goodbye kiss?

Y/N: This isn’t a “goodbye” this is a “see you later” and so I want you to really get excited for it.

Jake: You might just beat me in this game.

Y/N: I have a pretty good feeling I will.

I stepped out of the room and before going down the stairs I stared back at him and smiled. Maybe this side of the field wasn’t so bad.

masterlist

#enhypen #enhypen hyung line #enhypen scenarios #enhypen oneshots #jake sim #sim jaeyun #jake #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #jake x reader #jake x you #jake smut #jake fluff #enhypen imagines #jake oneshots #jake imagines #jake scenarios

59 notes · View notes

anemo-writes · 4 years ago

Text

hello travelers! again, thank you for putting up with my inactivity, it’s been hard to write lately haha. anyways, i thought this would be something fun to post and for everyone to enjoy, whether you celebrate Valentine’s Day or not :) (note: this will probably be more fanon than canon so please bear with me, i’ll make it as canon as it can be :’) i also kept this pretty short, so hopefully that’s okay too,, and sorry for this being late haha—i wrote this very late at night so don’t mind any typos you find please)

much love,

~ anemo-chan <3

(The Playable) Genshin Impact Characters on Valentine’s Day (Romantically)

super romantic; gifts you a bouquet of flowers and takes you out to eat at a fancy restaurant/cooks for you.

Diluc

He is nervous. He’s never paid close attention to the countless amount of people who have lined outside the tavern to ask him to be their Valentine, only to be rejected. There was absolutely no way that he would turn to Kaeya for advice, so unfortunately this was something he would have to figure out for himself. He figures that it wouldn’t hurt to go traditional, so that’s what he does; he buys a large bouquet of roses (which he had to get from Donna, seeing that at the hours that he ended work were very late and Flora’s shop was not open at the time—yeah, that was not fun) and presents himself outside your doorway, to which he invites you to join him for a late dinner—which he makes!

Lisa

She leaves a letter on top of your nightstand, paired along with a singular rose. The letter states for you to meet her outside of Good Hunter, where you find her sitting at a table with a candle dimly-lighting up the surroundings. She greets you with a warm smile, gesturing for you to sit down—the two of you enjoy a candle-lit dinner as well as bolognese she specially requested for Sara to make for the two of you to enjoy together why does this remind me so much of Lady and the Tramp,,

Tartaglia

Oh boy. It’s always a fun time spending a holiday with him, seeing that it could go two ways; one, he would be too busy to celebrate it with you on the day of, and he would take you out the day after, or two—have a store’s entire line of merchandise presented to you outside your doorstep, in which a very, very smiley Tartaglia hidden within the pile (after all, he was the best present!) After you’re done moving all of the gifts into your house (it took up the space of your entire living room), he tells you to cover your eyes and follow him. He takes you to one of the most well-known restaurants in Liyue (which currently doesn’t have a name because it is very late here!), and insists that you order whatever you want, and however much you want.

Zhongli

Over the years, he’s witnessed many, many couples celebrate this holiday and every year he’s wished to do the same. He finds the perfect opportunity to do so when Valentine’s Day is around the corner, and boy does he plan it out for the two of you. He’s even made sure to have his wallet on him at all times—it would be extremely rude for you to have to pay if he happened to forget his wallet. He makes sure to stop by to pick up a bouquet of flowers, as well as a bottle of perfume (not in a bad way, just to clarify) from Ying’er’s shop that he recalled you liked. He makes sure to pick you up early from your work place to make sure you made it to your appointment on time; after all, being late to an appointment was similar to breaking a contract, no?

surprises you with homemade sweets.

Fischl

Oh, she is so nervous—of course, she doesn’t show this. The entire week, she spent researching recipes to create a special batch of chocolate-dipped strawberries just for you—she even sent Oz to the nearby farms to “borrow” the freshest strawberries for the treat (the farmers were too scared to confront the talking bird who “borrowed” their strawberries, so luckily they got away with it). She dips them in a purple-colored chocolate (because what other color would she use, really?) and drizzles on a dark-chocolate syrup to top it off. She’s too shy to actually give it to you herself though, so she has Oz drop it off for her.

Ganyu

Even though she’s quite busy, she’s somehow found time to whip up a special batch of chocolate just for you! She shapes them into Glaze Lilies (which she found quite hard, which is why there are so few of them) and presents them to you in a neatly-sealed box. She’s quite modest when your eyes widen and tell her it’s the best chocolate you have ever eaten, claiming that she only followed a recipe, when she really made it from scratch.

Keqing

Like Ganyu, you have no idea how she finds time to create a perfect array of chocolates, which she made herself! However, with her tightly-packed schedule, she has to drop it off at your house in advance, to which you accept happily. She tried to decorate them with designs of cartoon-versions of your faces, but they’re a bit...messy. Nonetheless, they’re tasty, and to her relief, you enjoy them.

Mona

Somehow, she’s managed to scrape up enough mora to buy you a necklace; yes, a necklace, and a real one at that—none of that fake, costume jewelry stuff! She even added a pendant shaped like star, just so you could be reminded of her whenever you fiddled with it or even glanced at it. She’s quite flustered when she gives it to you, ignoring the way you ask how she managed to save this much mora to be able to buy something like this, changing the subject on how you should never-ever take it off (because it looks great on you.)

Noelle

One word: pancakes. (Have you seen the ones she makes for her special dishes? They’re frigging amazing) As a dutiful maid should, she wakes up especially early to prepare a homemade breakfast just for you, to which she serves to you just as your wake up in bed. The fluffy stack of pancakes are decorated with fruits cut up in heart-shapes, as well the words, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N”, written neatly with chocolate syrup—it’s quite a sight to see, to be honest, and utterly delicious. Lucky you!

Xiangling

The day before, she tells you to meet her at the restaurant around noon. When you arrive, the restaurant is adorned with Valentine decorations, as well as a terrifying amount of food; she insists that she only made it for you, so you better eat up! Before she can show you the other dishes, the restaurant is suddenly filled with a strong, bitter smell—something burning. With a yelp, she runs into the kitchen, coming out a few minutes later with a tray of half-scorched cupcakes, their Gouba-shapes adorned with...a lot of burn marks. Oh well, it’s the thought that counts, doesn’t it?

buys/makes a present for you.

Albedo

Without your knowledge, Albedo has been creating a collection of artworks throughout all the time you had spent together. The pieces include portraits of you, portraits of you and him (sucrose helped with this), as well as just random sketches of the little things that remind him of you, such as the bare, snowy-white terrain where the two of you first met, as well as its flora and fauna. If you request it, he’ll even make the painting come alive (literally), and the two of you run to Sucrose’s dwelling, who is very shocked to see the pair of you running from a Frosted Lawachurl when she peered out her window to see if she could pinpoint the sounds of distant screaming.

Amber

Is there anything better than a matching set of wind gliders? Not only that—they were homemade! She spent the last couple of weeks putting together a pair of gliders for the two of you, customizing them to your tastes (which she nailed!) She quite literally drags you to the nearest hill to test them out, and the two of you end up challenging each other on who can get back to the Knights of Farvonius Headquarters the fastest—spoiler alert: she did.

Barbara

Oh, she would make the cutest card for you—the envelope is decorated with cute stickers (some of them even had her face on it; there’s nothing like promoting merchandise, am i right? jkjks) She also pairs it off with a box of chocolates that she bought from Sara—however, what she didn’t know was that in the box was a special-edition spicy chocolate truffle. With your luck, that was the first one you chose—and boy, were you met a surprise (it was so bad that you were begging Barbara to use her Vision on you, which she refused of course). Fun times.

Chongyun

He’s real sweet. After his expeditions and commissions, he opens the freezer (yes he keeps them in there, don’t judge him) to an array of ice sculptures, shapes varying from flowers, hearts, and such—although it’s quite the simple gift, he’s put a lot of effort into them, even putting in the extra effort to cast a spell to make sure they would not melt; it’s all worth though, when he sees the absolutely giddy expression on your face, and the look of pure awe as you pick one up and study it closely, admiring all of the details and work that’s he put in.

Ningguang

She sends out informants to find out what you like, whether it be something that your gaze settled on for too long or something you’ve mentioned while talking to her—on the day of, you open your door to a mountain of gifts, with Ningguang herself peering out from behind it with a calm smile and a wave (which was the opposite of your reaction, because who has that much mora to purchase all of these gifts?!?)

Razor

He doesn’t have a clue on what the holiday until Lisa asks him if he’s planned something for the two of you during one of his lessons. When he shakes his head no, Lisa suggests that he make you something, to which he sets out on an adventure to do, looking for flowers and flower stems to weave into a pair of matching bracelets—they’re not the prettiest, but he is pretty proud of it; after all, it was his first time making something like that. He’s quite nervous to present it to you, afraid that you might not like it, but all feelings of worry melt away when you slide it on with a huge smile on your face, insisting that he wears his too.

Sucrose

At first, she considers gifting you a present that she created herself; of course, with her work being alchemy, she isn’t sure if that would be the safest option, despite being talented herself. And so, she resorts to buying a present for you—she is very picky with the present though, insisting that it should be perfect since she could not make one herself. She even consults Albedo when selecting some of the presents (he doesn’t help her unfortunately; he believes that she should figure it out herself haha). Like Razor, she’s quite nervous to give it to you, but lets out a huge sigh of relief as you thank her happily for the gift, wiping a bead of sweat from across her forehead (sucrose bby anything you give us would be perfect,,)

whisks you away somewhere sentimental, where the two of you can enjoy a special date.

Beidou

It’s ungodly early in the morning when Beidou presents herself in front of your doorstep, announcing that you’ll be joining her and the crew on a special ride. She tugs you along beside her until you reach the harbor, where you are met with the sight of her ship adorned with streamers and banners, varying between shades of pink and red. Onboard, there is a table filled with goodies the crew collected and made, and boy do they look delicious. The group sets out to sea, and you take your place next to the captain, who even lets you steer the boat (momentarily, at least.)

Bennett

He takes you to meet his dads; yes, yes—he knows that it’s not the most romantic thing to do on a day dedicated to lovers, but he figures it’s just as important. Besides, they’ve been asking about you for quite a while—they even set up a small party within the Adventurer’s Guild, with the help of Bennett, of course. You spend the day listening to their old adventuring stories, as well as bits from Bennett’s childhood (poor boy is flustered from all the information his dads are spilling, but he’s still happy either way; after all, he’s with the most important people to him.)

Kaeya

He quite literally kidnaps you; one second you’re walking in the streets of Mondstadt on your way to work when suddenly someone grabs you by the waist and pulls you into an alley way (that sounds so creepy but i swear he means it in a good way). He only chuckles and shields himself with his arms as you punch him lightly, retorting that he scared you. He doesn’t care that the two of you have an overwhelming amount of work to do—after all, Valentine’s Day only comes once a year, right? Surprisingly, he doesn’t take you the tavern, but instead...Dawn Winery! Diluc received quite the surprise when he is met with the two of you standing outside his gates, with Kaeya requesting a wine/grape juice taste-testing. Yeah...you guys didn’t get any of that, but you did manage to snag a couple of grapes on your way out! Good for you!

Venti

You wake up in your bed, opening your eyes to see a very-smiley Venti laying beside you, chin propped up against his hand as he watches you yawn sleepily as you force yourself out of bed. You’re then presented with a handpicked-bouquet of Ceceilias, the freshest of the bunch, if he may add. You barely have time to thank him before he hoists you up in his arms and out of your dwelling, gliding over the city of Mondstadt as he whisks you away to Starsnatch Cliff, where he’s prepared a special performance just for you (and no, you don’t need to pay.)

Xingqiu

While he’s not the most romantic, he does have a clue on what people look for on Valentine’s Day; after all, that’s what cheesy-romance novels were for, right? Unbeknownst to you, he takes you on a date very similar to the one the main characters in his favorite novels partook in—and you don’t find out until you catch him peeking into the pages while you weren’t (you were) looking. Again, it’s the thought that counts—

doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.

Jean

Sadly, she probably forgets about the holiday. She’s too busy holed-up in her office to notice the couples gathered up in the courtyard, sharing moments with their lover. It’s not until she walks out to take a breather that she notices the commotion—she immediately calls you over, apologizing frantically. Of course, to this you respond that’s it’s okay, but that you would much rather her take the rest of the day off to spend time together, to which she reluctantly agrees.

Xiao

“I do not have time to celebrate silly human traditions like that.” He would say as you bound up to him, exclaiming that it’s Valentine’s Day, the day where you can give sweets to your loved ones, and asking if he had someone special in mind to spend it with. He’s irked when your gaze falters and the grip on the object you’re hiding behind your back tightens—he only grows more irked as you mutter to yourself how you’ll give the chocolates you made to someone else. He scoffs loudly, avoiding your gaze as he lays out his hand in front of you to accept the chocolates (just because he doesn’t celebrate the holiday doesn’t mean he can’t get jealous!)

#anemo-writes #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact imagines #THE WAY THIS IS A DAY LATE #can you tell that i’ve never written for zhongli before :’)#bennett’s is my favorite i almost cried while writing it because it was so wholesome #diluc x reader #Childe x reader #zhongli x reader #chongyun x reader #razor x reader

582 notes · View notes

weirdthinkingdragon · 4 years ago

Text

Welcome To The Family (6/???)

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / here

Yandere EraserMic household x reader

Fun fact- Tadao was a sudden decision I made up on the spot after chapter 3 and wasn’t expecting to really make him a character other than a mentioned person with a mold/fungus quirk. I did though, and already love him as an OC more than I should. Oops.

It might be a long while before the next chapter. I think I may have drained myself a bit from focusing on this story so much.

Warnings- swearing, slight coercion I think? Not really sure but better safe than sorry.

I promise the darker stuff is coming soon.

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

I wake up to someone calling me. Hitoshi? Why is he calling me at… 9 in the morning? Come on dude, I want to sleep more for dinner tonight. My fault for hanging out with Tadao a bit later last night than usual. He’s started walking with me to our apartment for the past few days. I wonder why we haven’t hung out until now. Meanwhile, Ryo and I seemed to drift apart. They refuse to even look at me now when I saw them last night.

Ugh, might as well answer it. “Hey, Hitoshi. You need something?” I tiredly slur from just waking up.

“Sorry for waking you…” Apologized the familiar voice of Eri. Wait, Eri? Why does she have Hitoshi’s phone? The wonder why she has his phone wakes me up a bit more.

“Oh, hey, Eri. Is something wrong?” A slight panic enters me in the possibility something bad could have happened to one of the guys. “Wait, is everyone okay?”

“We’re good. Just wanted to talk a bit with you before tonight.” Pipes up the familiar voice of Hitoshi in the background.

Relief floods me. “That’s good. What about?”

“Our dads!” Eri cheerfully informs.

My eyes narrow in confusion. “What about them?”

“What do you think of them?” Hitoshi asks. Huh? Why does this need to be talked about now? Maybe because more likely than not the two adults are asleep, and won’t hear the conversation?

I’m too tired to be filtered right now, so whatever comes to mind is whatever is going to be said. “They’re… An interesting two, to say the least. Hizashi seems like someone I can rely on to cheer me up pretty easily if I’m ever down, and after that day Shouta was sick, I realize Shouta’s secretly a lot more caring than he lets on. Still wouldn’t want to pi- anger him.” Ugh, it’s too early. I nearly just swore with Eri there! Well, saying “piss him off” wouldn’t have been that bad, but she needs to keep that innocence at least for a while yet.

Hitoshi laughs, probably catching on with what I almost said. “Seen it first-hand with his class. Can’t say I recommend it either.”

“What about looks?” Eri suddenly asks, catching me off-guard. What do their looks have to do with anything? They’re also a married couple, so whatever I think is invalid anyways.

“Well, had this weird thought of wondering what Hizashi would look like with his hair fully down when we went to the festival, but that’s really not something that I need to tell him. It’s something I probably shouldn’t be wondering in the first place.”

“What’s the problem in wondering that? It’s just hair.”

“Says the one who always looks like he stuck his head out a car window and hair decided to stay that way.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

I go back onto the topic. “Otherwise, I’m not really sure what to talk about with them. It’s their choices of what they wear. Though it IS pretty funny imagining Hizashi forcing Shouta to wear something he normally wouldn’t.”

“It’s happened more than once before.”

I tiredly let out a laugh. “I believe it.”

“Daddy made him wear a dress!”

An almost inhuman sound comes out of me at the thought of Shouta deeply frowning with a strapless hot pink dress forced onto him, and the only reason he does it is Hizashi would probably keep pestering him otherwise.

“Maybe sometime we could get him to do it again with you here. It’s quite a thing to see.”

“Oh, really? How did he not kill you for laughing?”

“He almost did,” he replies jokingly.

“If he tries to attack me when I’m there, you’re taking the blow.” I joke back.

He goes silent for a moment. “He wouldn’t dare. If he did, he’d have an angry little girl scolding him.”

“Toooshiiii!”

“What? You know I’m right.”

“Hmph.”

“Anyway, want to tell them what you’ll wear?”

“No! It’s a surprise!”

“Right back at you two,” I inform the slightly bickering duo.

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

We both hung up after a bit more of talking about tonight. I could swear there was someone talking in the background for a second, but I brushed it off as the T.V. Eri was probably watching something earlier and forgot to lower the volume.

After playing on my computer for a while since it’s close to my bed, I decided to just get up and get ready. There are not many fancy things I have, so it’s quite limited on what to wear. Hopefully, they don’t mind if it’s a bit more casual than fancy. There’s plenty of time to shop for something, but I’m honestly too lazy to go anywhere. Just something of my favorite color and slightly more fancy than my daily clothes should work.

I have to dig much deeper into my closet to find said clothing from not wearing it too often.

One of my favorite color is grabbed. Nope, that’s not it.

I move a few more. Wait, there it is! I move a few more pieces of clothing and grab it, pulling it out. Hopefully, it still fits. Welp, time to try. I take off my pajamas.

Like a glove. Perfect!

Just to make sure there are no new forgotten holes or something, I look at myself in my body mirror. Huh, I actually look pretty good in this! I might have to wear it more often. Something feels like it’s missing though. Maybe a ring or something would help?

I look over to the select few rings I have, including the forgotten one Ryo gave me. My heart slightly twinges at remembering they gave it as a best friends type of ring years ago. A ring with real blue topaz fitting my middle finger.

Might as well wear it. I slip it on and decide to leave my room, though they won’t be here for a while yet. Maybe Tadao will be around.

My body instinctively starts looking around for the familiar- oh, not again. Does he LIKE sleeping on the floor in the hall or something? I walk up to his sleeping form. I gently nudge him to move with my foot.

He groans, and curls his head deeper onto his arm, also bringing his legs up so he’s a ball. “Come on dude, I know your quirk is related to mold and all, but you’re not supposed to BECOME it.”

“I am one with the floor… I shall be the floor…” He mumbles, probably sleep talking.

I nudge him harder, making him open his eyes to look up at me. “Heyyy Y/N. What time is it?” He sluggishly asks.

I check my phone. “Already half-past noon.”

That got his attention. Both of his eyes snapped open as he shot to sit up. He grabs his rather cracked phone and looks at it. There are a few messages on the screen without him unlocking it. They’re impossible to read as he seems frantic after looking at them. “Already!? Man, I gotta get ready! I’ll be late for work!”

I don’t even get the chance to ask him anything since he gets to his feet and sprints off past my door, probably to his.

Glancing at Ryo’s door, the thought of checking on them arises. No, they’re deciding on acting out like this. Crawling to them could only continue this childish way again at some point. Ugh, what to do now though? It will be boring to just sit around for the next few hours. The park could be good for a few hours.

The villains around though? Nah. Welp, more computer time.

Familiar brown hair in the corner of my eye catches my attention before returning to my door. It’s the woman that glared at me with Hizashi at the studio. What’s she doing around here? Never saw her around before, and she doesn’t exactly strike me as the type to like parties. Funny if she’s attracted to Hizashi like he told me.

She keeps her glare on me as she… Knocks on Ryo’s door? Oh hell no. There’s no way Ryo is hanging out with someone like that. I’m proven wrong though as Ryo opens the door and pulls them in without looking at me.

I- What? What’s going on lately?

Also, okay, what the ever-loving fuck Ryo!?

Calm down, give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the woman hasn’t told Ryo anything about my work, and maybe it can just be a sudden meeting they did at one point, and it��s an opposites attract type of friendship. After all, I haven’t really been around. They were bound to try to find someone else to hang out with I suppose. Should this be a concern to bring up with Hizashi and Shouta though?

I stand there still staring at Ryo’s door and blink confusedly. They couldn’t have found anyone better to hang out with? Even a villain would have been better than her in my opinion. Sure, more trouble from me being around two- basically three- heroes could arise, but I’d be willing to keep that kind of secret for them. But this? This gives me a bad feeling.

What if she’s the reason Ryo is acting so odd?

Next Sunday will be the day to get some answers from them. If they will talk to me, that is.

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

Time seems to slip by while being on my computer. My phone notifies me of a text message. I look at it to see it’s from Hizashi.

“Hitoshi’s coming in to get ya! We’re waiting!” My eyes widen noticing it’s already past six at night.

I try to text him ASAP to not let Hitoshi come in. They won’t be happy with my living place. “That will be fine, call him off. I’ll be out shortly.”

“Too late! Sorry!”

I sigh. He doesn’t even know which one mine is! I put my computer away and quickly left. Looking left and right, there’s familiar purple hair far down on the right. Obviously, it’s Hitoshi. He is staring with great disgust at the peeling walls and ripped-up flooring. Oh boy, it’s probably a disaster with what is about to happen in the vehicle now.

The hallway is rather dimly lit now, making it slightly hard to see, but it’s easy to tell he’s wearing a suit matching his eye color. I’m feeling pretty underdressed now.

“Hey, Hitoshi. You could have waited outside. Uh… You probably should have no offense.”

He glares at a piece of wall that falls off onto the floor. “How do you live in this?”

I shrug. “Eh, you get used to it,” I noticed his frustrated expression. He’s about to ask me why I don’t move or something since I clearly could with my pay. “And before you say anything, I rather like it here. It’s where a lot of my closest friends are.”

His eyes narrow at me. “You could still visit instead of living here.”

Someone jumps upstairs, making the place shake, and a piece of the ceiling on this level chips off and falls next to the wall piece on the floor.

“That’s new,” I comment. It’s true, the ceiling has never fallen before. Makes me wonder when this whole building is going to collapse. Bit worried for my friends here now.

Hitoshi looks at me like I just told him the world is going to end tomorrow.

I start walking to the exit, having Hitoshi follow behind me too closely for my taste. Makes sense if he’s doing it for my protection, but he obviously doesn’t know these people as I do. He almost could be felt against my back. “You mind standing back a bit? You’re rather close.”

He does, but just barely.

It doesn't take long for us to get to the vehicle. Just like before, I get in the center and hug Eri. The slight light in the car makes it hard to see her dress, but I'm pretty sure it's a bright silverish blue. The light wasn't on long enough to notice the two up front.

They do seem to notice Hitoshi in a slightly on edge type of way. For the moment the light was on.

"What's wrong, little hypno-man?"

"Their apartment is not fitting to live in."

"What?" Hizashi's tone almost drastically changes. I'm glad I can't see them right now. I focus on the scenery past Hitoshi to try ignoring the growing unease of him whistleblowing to them.

"It's falling apart. A part of the wall fell to the floor. The inside is much worse than the outside."

"Why are you still living there? You can easily move with the money we give you." Shouta pipes up.

"Because I like living there. It's a walking distance from your place, and all my friends are there."

"You could visit them some other time if you moved. We'd pay a bus for you if needed."

"Exactly! Or I could drive ya to our place! It wouldn't be a problem, and it would give me a little somethin' to do while the grump wakes up in the morning!"

I don't feel comfortable at the thought of having to rely on them like that. They're already so busy themselves, it really wouldn't be fair to them despite what they say.

“Uh… no. Thanks for the offer, but my place is good for now.”

The air is rather tense, telling me that they want to push more on the subject, but decide not to for now.

I decided to bring up what happened earlier. “Remember that bad woman from before?”

“You mean Chiyo?” Shouta spits her name with such hate, someone would think he’d murder her if he could. Hizashi must have told him about our meeting in his studio. Wait, Isn’t that a first name?

As if reading my mind, Hizashi answers for Shouta. “She doesn’t deserve the respect of last name. What about her?”

“I discovered today she might be hanging out with one of my closest friends that doesn’t seem to be too happy with me lately. Isn’t it a bit of a concern she might tell them that I babysit for you guys?”

“That’s confidential information. Like it was said to you before you started, you can’t tell anyone our identities. They can get into serious trouble if they do, and they signed a contract accepting they wouldn’t.” Shouta replies.

“That’s good to know.” I say, sounding relieved. They could be told how Ryo thinks they’re bad parents for me babysitting so often, but that’s something that probably doesn’t need to be brought up. Especially if she can’t tell Ryo about it.

Hizashi pulls up and parks in front of the restaurant we must be dining in. wait- fuck, I’ve heard of this place. It’s one of the most expensive restaurants around here! We exit and enter the restaurant. The first thing I noticed was how well-dressed the two men were. Shouta was wearing a navy blue suit, white undershirt, and a light brown tie. Oddly, he’s also wearing glasses. When did he need glasses?

Hizashi was wearing a cream-colored suit with a dark grey undershirt and a tie matching his eye color. Looking at the four of them and the others around, I am… severely underdressed. Doesn’t feel much better with everyone that stares at me from their tables for a moment.

Wait- Hizashi’s. Hair. Is. Fully. Down. I whip my head towards Hitoshi and glare in betrayal.

He notices with a smirk, and puts his hands in front of himself in mock-defense. “Don’t look at me. He was there then, just didn’t speak.”

My eyes narrow. “So it really WASN’T the T.V.” Seriously though!? That’s so embarrassing! He must have heard everything!

Him and Hizashi chuckle at me, making me feel worse.

A woman comes up from the counter. “Please tell me the name of your reservation.”

“The Aizawa’s.” Um… I’m not exactly a part of this family? Well, it does make sense though I guess just to do a last name. Hizashi smirks at Shouta while he glares in return.

“Right this way please.” She starts to lead the five of us to a table farther in the back. The enormous chandeliers overhead from the really tall ceiling are slightly intimidating if I’m to be honest. Each crystal is taller than Hizashi from the top of his hair in his hero costume to his feet.

The white and gold walls of the place give a surprisingly calming type of effect. It’s rather cool in here as well. Probably to help combat the ones who wear layers of clothes to be more fancy or something.

“You couldn’t have chosen anything else?” Shouta hisses quietly enough for the woman not to hear, but I’m close enough that I can. I’m right between them from behind while Hitoshi and Eri are behind me. I can swear Hitoshi keeps trying to nudge me forward closer to them.

“Aw, don’t worry ‘bout it babe! Besides, you and I both know you’re known much less than me! This way they won’t know us!” He leans even closer to Shouta. “And don’t deny it, you know you like the thought of me bein’ called an Aizawa~”

I can see red start to cover the side of Shouta’s face even though he tries his best to hide and prevent it. Ha! Now he’s the one to be embarrassed!

I let out a chuckle, making Hizashi turn and give me a toothy grin.

We get to a table with booth seats. The color of them is surprisingly similar to Eri’s dress.

I go to sit with Hitoshi and Eri, but like before, Hizashi grabs my wrist and has me sit between him and Shouta. Why do you keep doing this to me dude!? Shouta is on my right by the wall with Hizashi on my left by the opening.

Eri is sitting by the wall with Hitoshi by the opening in front of us. I didn’t notice before, but her dress has some candy apple red jewels the shape of diamonds, adorning the dress even more than it already was. Must be new since it’s never been seen by me before.

… I don’t like the closeness of the two men beside me again. Saying it is uncomfortable is an understatement. A difference than before is the heat of their thighs radiating through their pants onto mine.

The woman hands us menus. “Someone will be here to take your orders shortly.”

I try to brush them off while looking at the menu.

“Hey Y/N, are ya datin’ anyone?”

“Maybe.” They don’t need to know I’m not.

“That’s a yes or no question.” Shouta states with slight annoyance. He must have forgotten I told him I’m not the day he was sick.

“They better not be a villain. We’d hate to have to do something to you and them. Better be honest, you’re not looking the best right now.” Hitoshi accuses.

What the heck Hitoshi!? You’re just going to turn on me like this!? Why I ought to come over there and smack the back of your head myself!

My saving grace as the waiter comes- Tadao!? This is where he works!? He comes up to our table with a notepad in front of him. "Hello, I’m Ito, and I’ll be your waiter for tonight. What can I get you started with?”

“Tadao, you work here?”

His head snaps up from the notepad, and looks at me. “Oh hey, Y/N!” His face becomes a smirk. “What happened to calling me glowstick?”

“Well, you’re not really glowing right now in this light, are you?”

“Ha, you got me there.”

The three men look between us with some look I don’t really understand.

“Ya know each other?”

“You could say we’re close.” Tadao informs. They grow rather deep frowns at the news.

He clears his throat and brings his notepad up. “What drinks could I start you guys with?” We each tell him our drinks and he writes them down. “All right, drinks coming right up!” He leaves to go get them.

“He’s one of the reasons I don’t move out of my apartment. Especially now. We’ve become really close recently.”

“You should stay away from him. He seems like bad news.” Hitoshi informs.

??? huh? “Why, do you know he has a villain record or something?”

“He could be using you. Stay away from him or we might have to make sure he doesn’t do anything.”

Okay, THAT pisses me off. “First of all, you guys can’t tell me who I can and can’t hang out with outside of babysitting hours. Second of all, I’d really appreciate it if you guys could be less judging of him, because he has never done anything even slightly villainous whenever we met.” My slightly edged tone makes them back off the topic. I wanted to add third of all being he walks with me at night to our apartment place, but that seems like a bad idea if their reaction is this so far.

It grows awkwardly silent between us all for a moment. Maybe I should have kept the others to myself too, but damn it, they need to have more respect for my decisions they were never a part of, and have no need to be a part of.

Tadao comes with our drinks. He places them down, and Hizashi immediately takes a big drink of his.

“Here you guys go, and one drink for one special person.” He jokingly winks at me.

I roll my eyes in response. “Sometimes I truly wonder if I hate you.” I tease.

He rolls his eyes in return. “Admit it, you know you love me.”

Hizashi chokes on his drink. I don’t help him from still being a bit upset. He should be fine anyways after a bit.

He does, and is able to manage keeping his quirk down as well.

“Do I?” I question teasingly.

The three men glare at him. Sheesh, what’s their problem?

He seems rather uncomfortable by it and leaves in a rush immediately after taking our orders. After I almost had a heart attack from the beyond insane prices, of course. Even the cheapest thing is over half the money I’m given a day for babysitting.

I’m getting pretty upset with these guys right now. Starting to wonder if they got hit with some odd quirk again or something.

That calms me down a bit since it would kind of make sense that’s why they’re acting odd. How long will it last though? Better not be long. I don’t know if I can handle them like this without losing my mind.

“Hey, Y/N. We have something for you,” Hitoshi pipes up, and nods towards Hizashi.

“Right!” He reaches into one of his pockets and pulls out a… necklace? It has my favorite type of jewel in it, encased behind and around the edges with what looks like real gold. A different shine is on it, like something is covering the gold to prevent it from easily being destroyed by weather or wear. The shape is in a rather large teardrop. It looks custom-made as well. Never seen anything even close to what this looks like before.

“It’s a gift!” Eri cheerfully chimes in.

“That she helped us pick for you.” Shouta informs.

Please don’t tell me it’s authentic. It looks real though. I can’t even begin to imagine the price of what it must have cost to create it if it is real. “I’m sorry, but I can’t accept this! It feels too much like I’m just using you guys if I do!”

The three of them frown. Even Eri seems a bit disappointed.

Eri asking me my favorite jewel kind of makes sense now, but why would they want to give this to me?

“C’mon, let’s put it on ya!” He hands it over to Hitoshi and stands up, pulling me to stand up with him. Hitoshi stands as well.

“Did you guys not hear me? I- I can’t accept it!”

Hizashi shakes his head. “Don’t be so worried, dear little lovesong! We want you to have it! Ya can’t just say no, we spent too much for it to go to waste now!”

Hitoshi goes behind me with the necklace and is able to put it on while I’m still rather reluctant to accept such a gift.

Eri’s eyes almost seem to sparkle when the clasp gets shut on it. “You look amazing!”

I freeze in my tracks to notice everyone is staring at us yet again. This time with slightly different reactions. A couple of them seem to be with envy, making me want to shrivel up and hide in a hole, and others seem to be appreciative I have something more expensive than my clothes now or something.

At least Shouta seems to give me mercy by pulling me back down in the booth and glaring at them all in such a way that they all stop staring. I’m feeling a bit like a ragdoll at this point.

Hitoshi joins him, making sure they truly stop. The glare combined of those two could probably curdle the blood of All Might himself.

The restaurant seems to grow quiet between all of us.

I decide to escape by using the bathroom. Hizashi didn’t have time to sit back down before it was necessary. “Stay here, it won’t take me long.” They still seem reluctant to let me go alone.

Getting to the bathrooms, I didn’t have to go, just wanted to get out of the stares and whispers for a little bit. Despite the men’s glares, of course there was still going to be gossip of someone in here who looks so out of place.

“Hey, Y/N, be careful around them, alright? They’re pretty strange.” Pipes up the familiar voice of Tadao behind me.

I play dumb. He probably shouldn’t know I know they must have been hit with some kind of quirk. “How do you know? They could just be being cautious since their children are with.”

“I admit, I did watch you a bit at the festival. More so the men you were with when they came. Something about them isn’t... “ He seems to be struggling with figuring out how to explain it. “It’s wrong. I just can’t quite put my finger on what it is. Again, just be careful, alright?”

I just nod and enter the bathroom.

A bit after cooling off, I go back to the dinner table, them all still waiting and chatting about school. Well, Shouta being nearly silent as usual. Hizashi quickly stands up to let me sit between them again. Ugh, I really don’t want to.

Yet I do, just to be kind. The least I can do is sit through this since they went through the effort of such a gift, even though to me it seems highly unnecessary.

Tadao comes with our food not much later with a secret frown on his face. He’s smiling, but I’ve learned him well enough by now it’s worry he has instead of a cheerful personality. It slightly drops to reveal his true emotions when he notices the guys glaring at him yet again. He doesn’t say a word, just drops all of the food off and leaves.

This feels like a really ruined dinner, even though this food is incredibly good. The atmosphere has definitely become shit. I seem to be the only one to notice. Hizashi looks over towards me and gives me another grin, not giving much comfort. What’s worse is every time I stop for a moment and rest my hand on my lap, Shouta seems to try to grab it. It led me to just keeping the utensil for my dinner in my hand.

I’ll have to apologize to Tadao for their behavior tomorrow. Easier said than done since I still can’t exactly tell him who they are. Cursed contract.

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

taglist-

@dabi-s-whore, @angelicblackwolf, @fuegy-fuegy

Double fun fact- Did you know slapping someone’s back if they’re choking is actually worse than letting them try to get it out themselves, especially if it’s food? The food can actually get lodged deeper in their throat at the impact. Huh, First Aid is quite interesting.

#Yandere EraserMic household #x reader #yanderes x reader #platonic yandere shinsou x reader #yandere erasermic x reader #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere eraserhead #yandere present mic #welcome to the family #yandere poly x reader

245 notes · View notes

cobaincreates · 4 years ago

Text

touch pt. 3

warnings: swearing, smut, oral (female receiving), 18+

count: 4k+

final part of touch! thank you so much for reading!

— — —

“just get the silver one with the straps. i think the purple is a bit too close on the magenta side.”

“i can wear my heels with this one.” sarah agreed, turning her hips. “do you still have those silver earrings from work? the long, dangly ones?”

“i think so, yeah. i’ll bring them over later.” you nodded at your phone screen, watching sarah fiddle with the dress she had on. the lighting from the fitting room made the dress look darker than it really was in the picture she originally sent you.

“what’s kie trying on?” you asked just as a notification popped up at the top of your screen.

rafe:

meet me on dock @ noon?

your stomach twisted as a smile immediately graced your lips. you quickly swiped out of the facetime session, hoping sarah didn’t see, as you went to reply.

“i think she’s looking for a pair of jeans she saw the last time we came. the ones with the stitched back pockets.” sarah said.

okay :), you sent.

you were met with the ceiling when you went back to facetime, staring at a small orb reflecting from the light.

“hopefully she finds them,” you said and checked the time again as you started to think about changing out of the pajamas you were still in.

you had the day off today, which so far had amounted to you skipping out on a shopping trip with sarah and kiara and settling for being lazy around an empty house. it wasn’t so bad, but you were ready to get a move on, rafe’s text motivating you.

“john b’s calling me. i’ll talk to you later?” sarah’s face suddenly appeared on the screen as she picked her phone up, her shoulders now bare. you held a peace sign above your messy bed-ridden hair and tossed your phone aside when you hung up.

it was impossible not to be smiley and giddy as you scoured your dresser for clothes to wear. who could blame you when you’d spent nearly every night this week staying up late to text back and forth with rafe. it felt like you were dreaming, like you were living in an alternate universe where you actually got something you wanted. a month ago, you never would’ve guessed that you’d be getting ready to meet up with rafe, much less be fooling around with him.

it was difficult to describe how you felt about it. obviously, you were happy and bubbling with excitement, so much so that you thought you were going to throw up anytime you reminisced on the time spent with him. you tried not to dwell on the fact that you were technically sneaking around with him, but it had only been a few times so did it really constitute as such? you knew you had to tell sarah; the only thing stopping you being that you just weren’t sure when a good time would be.

when you had gotten home the other day from the marsh, you quickly closed yourself in your room. there was no reason to hide the grin within the privacy of your own space, so you let it stay there, your cheeks hurting so much by the time you went to sleep. you couldn’t believe you’d finally kissed rafe and you even caught yourself pressing your lips together, trying to trap the sensation of it there, and closing your eyes.

and rafe finally getting a taste of you? fuck, it was perfect.

back in your room, you quickly finished getting ready. as you sprayed some perfume just for the hell of it, you thought about where you were going if he wanted to meet on his dock. you tried to picture him waiting for you. would he smile when you were too far away to see it? would his skin tingle with vibrant energy, just waiting to touch you? you swore you felt that same sensation every time you thought of him.

by the time you pulled up to tannyhill and grew closer to the house, you spotted him patiently waiting on the dock. his dad’s boat was there, rocking ever so slightly in the water. rafe looked up at the sound of your car and you parked it beside his truck, a fast-approaching heat spreading up your neck at his open windows. it was like they were encouraging you to have the thoughts of being in the back seat.

you only brought your keys with you as you got out, your phone sitting in the cup holder along with a few receipts you’d been meaning to throw out. rafe watched you as you walked over the grass and toward the wooden planks of the dock. he squinted an eye shut to watch you and you wanted to tell him that that was what the hat on his head was for, if only he turned it around. instead, you smiled at your feet.

“where is everyone?” you said over the few yards you hadn’t closed yet between you. your feet brushed over the planks, going down the small slope to where rafe was standing at the back of the boat.

“ward is out of town,” rafe said, lifting his chin a bit. “rose is doing whatever rose does with her girlfriends, wheezie is on the computer, but she’s leaving soon.” you came to a stop a couple steps away from him, fiddling with the keys in your hand. “and sarah is with kie today, which i’m sure you already knew,” he smiled at the end, like he was satisfied to have you all to himself.

“mmm,” you hummed humorously. “are you taking me out?” you asked, jutting your chin to the yacht.

rafe looked over, giving you time to run your eyes quickly down his chest and lower half. you adored the blue button up he had on, the sleeves rolled up his forearms. wasn’t he hot?

“we can’t exactly go anywhere since ward would kill me,” he looked back at you, smirking, “but i figured we could hang out here.”

“hang out?” you smiled, biting the inside of your lip slightly and tilting your head.

he nodded, his hand slipping from his pocket and extending out to you. you stared back at him as a familiar feeling pooled in your lower abdomen, one you’d felt many times around him. you never wanted it to go away, and maybe it was ridiculous to think in such a way, but you never wanted to feel it for anyone else.

pushing your keys into one hand, you reached out for his and held on. he held it firmly as he turned and went to the back platform to step onto. you followed all the way inside, feeling the cooler atmosphere in the shade. it didn’t look any different than the last time you’d been on it, just tidied up a bit more.

you set down your keys on the dining table and turned your back to lean against it. rafe was already watching you curiously.

“are you going to come over here?” you weren’t sure where it came from, but you couldn’t help yourself from asking.

he broke out into a smile and stepped closer until his feet were in front of yours. you laughed, almost nervously, and let your eyes trail up his form. stopping at his torso, you put your hand out to touch one of the buttons on his shirt. he touched your waist, causing you to breathe in shakily. he shuffled closer, your hand now pressed against his stomach and spreading a warmth up your arm. you could see his forearms flex for just a split second.

“i’ve been having a lot of fun with you, you know.” he said.

“have you?” you smiled.

you let your eyes resume their trail up his chest, gliding over the hollow of his neck, skimming his jaw. finally, your eyes connected with his.

“yeah, i have.”

“sneaking or fooling around?” you asked, moving your arms to circle around his neck. your chest pressed to his, nearly having you breathe deeper as your shirt exposed a sliver of your stomach. rafe could feel it, his palms warm over your skin.

“mostly the fooling around part.” he said proudly, holding back a smile as if it would scare you.

you had to admit that’s what you’d been enjoying too. fuck, there had been nothing more thrilling than having rafe cameron between your legs, in his truck, with no one around. it wasn’t like you to sneak around, and while it had been fun, you knew sarah needed to know.

you hummed, looking up at his hat and teasingly taking it off to place upon your own head. he brushed his newly disheveled hair then smiled down at you, his head slightly tilting. you wondered if you looked as good as he did in the hat.

“do you think sarah would kill me if she knew?” you asked seriously, not wanting to put a damper on the mood, but it had been something on your mind lately.

“no, she’d probably kill me.” he stated.

you laughed, glancing out the door to the bow of the boat, knowing he had to be right. “i have to tell her,” you sighed, imagining it for a moment. you didn’t want her to be upset.

but you had known sarah for so long that you knew in your heart she wouldn’t be mad at you. she couldn’t. if anything, she might be a little weirded out, but she would embrace it, just like you embraced john b. it had been so weird, but so right for them to get together. maybe she’d feel the exact same way about you and rafe. then again, you and rafe weren’t dating, were you?

“i’m having fun with you too,” you said, quieter this time as if another person might’ve been on the boat with you.

you looked back up at him, searching his eyes. you weren’t sure why you suddenly felt so scared, so anxious for saying that aloud. he had already admitted the same thing, so what was there to be afraid of?

a soft gasp fell from your lips as rafe pulled you closer, his hand slipping over your bottom. his eyes seemed to darken, although you couldn’t exactly tell if it was from his face moving closer. either way, it added to the pooling in your abdomen.

“sucking my dick or me eating you out?” he asked, his voice laced with lust.

you couldn’t help the blush sparking in your cheeks, heating your skin up faster than if you were to sit in front of a fire. you opened your mouth to answer him, instead watching as he disappeared and moved to your jaw. his mouth was warm and slick over your skin. you slipped your eyes closed and tightened your hold around his shoulders. god, you didn’t want him to stop.

“both,” you remembered to say, answering his question.

rafe squeezed at your ass, simultaneously moving your hips closer. you let out a breath when you brushed against him. he moved from your jaw then and found your lips.

“i thought we were just hanging out?” you teased, continuing to kiss him back in between the words. he was insatiable at the moment, never once letting you get too far away.

“we can if that’s what you want.” his breath was hot and growing heavy by the second. you smiled at the double meaning of his reply and pulled away slightly to shake your head. fuck no, you didn’t want to just hang out.

dropping your hands to the table behind you, you lifted yourself up and sat before tugging him in between your legs. you locked him in place with your thighs and reached up to connect your lips again. he obliged, running his tongue along your bottom lip in question. you happily allowed him access, making a small noise as you felt the pooling seep to your undies now.

his hands settled on your thighs for a little, gliding against your skin and sending shivers in each direction. you pushed your chest against his, wanting nothing more than to touch him, to feel him, to have his hands everywhere on your body. you nearly groaned in agony just wanting to ask him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. but it wasn’t long before he brought a hand up your side and rested over your breast. it was so warm and cupped you so nicely that you contemplated just letting it stay there, but your arousal told you differently.

pulling away, you managed to take your shirt off fast enough that you should’ve won the world record. you knocked rafe’s hat off while doing so, hearing it fall to the table behind you.

“fuck,” rafe swooned over your exposed chest.

he slipped an arm around your lower back, pulling you closer to the edge of the table and simultaneously against his bulge. you moaned and arched into his hand on your breast again, his grip gently kneading over your bra. what would his lips feel like there? you almost wish you could’ve found out the other day in the truck, but this…this was better.

feeling rather curious, or just very horny, you decided to rub your hips into rafe’s, feeling how hard he was. you felt the muscles in his back turn to steel, the noise against your lips contradicting it. his hand dropped from your breast to join his other at your lower back and you reveled in the way he gripped you tighter against his own body.

“fuck, i want you rafe, please.” you said, feeling the throbbing in your lips from kissing so much. you felt it just as much behind your shorts, your undies were practically drenched. you were so wet and you didn’t want to wait anymore for him to know it.

“i-i want you too,” he panted, loosening his grip.

he was very reluctant to pull away, to lose touch of you, but he was quick and excited as he pulled his shirt off, ripping some of the buttons. it made you laugh, your chest heaving for breath as you watched. he reached for your shorts next, moving fast and taking them off with your underwear at the same time. you didn’t mind, drawing your lip between your teeth, lifting your hips as you watched him do so. he pushed his bottoms off, fishing in his pocket for a condom he cleverly packed.

you drank in the sight of him, your thighs clenching together at the sight of his arousal and the dark curls surrounding him. for a second it felt like you shouldn’t be looking, that this was too private and not meant for your eyes, but once you looked up at his face and took in the way he was doing the same exact thing to you, you melted.

“you’re fucking pretty, you know that?” he said as he came back in between your legs, pushing your hair out of your eyes, and giving you a firm kiss.

“seems like you tell me a lot.” you answered and reached out to touch him gently. he sucked in a breath as your hand wrapped around him, your fingers registering that lovely vein again.

you could probably stare at your hand all day and revel in that vein, but instead you lifted your head and attached your lips to rafe’s neck. his hands went behind you so he could open the packet and it probably would’ve taken him a shorter amount of time if you weren’t sucking a mark into his skin and slowly rubbing him. he moaned lowly before getting the packet open successfully. you spent a few more seconds on his neck, then licked over the spot and pulled away.

rafe’s hand came over your wrist. he squeezed lightly then pulled your hand to his mouth, pressing a light kiss to your palm. he held your hand for a moment while he leaned in to press a kiss to your mouth. “can i taste you first?”

“o-okay,” you nodded quickly. “yeah.”

you practically reeled as he crouched down to his knees in front of you and brought a leg over his shoulder. you moved to the very edge of the table, having a slight thought of falling completely off, but you had a feeling rafe would catch you or you’d both laugh it off.

those thoughts completely disappeared as rafe put his mouth on you. you pulled a lip between your teeth, watching him as he did.

“fuck, you’re so wet for me.” he noted and gripped your thighs before licking a long stripe up your folds.

one of his hands slipped from your leg and you wondered what he was doing for a second, before you saw the muscles flexing in his shoulder. that got you even hotter, knowing that he was touching himself while having his mouth on you. you nearly couldn’t think straight as he licked you again. he dipped into your entrance and you swallowed a whimper when he decided to leave you like that.

you watched him stand back up and lick his lips as he rolled the condom on, your stomach flipping and rolling in anticipation. you swallowed thickly and looked up at rafe when he was ready, his hand gentle as it appeared on your hip.

“are you ready?” he asked in a deep breath. “if you want to stop, just tell me, okay?”

“okay,” you nodded with a small smile.

you spread your legs wider and looked down at the same time as rafe so you could watch him. you breathed slowly to relax, watching as he guided himself to your entrance and slowly moved inside of you. your mouth fell open as a result, your arms nearly giving out. he opened you up the more he slid in, his palm on your thigh pressing more and more until he was completely inside.

“s-shit,” you panted and let your head fall back for a moment.

you breathed, closed your eyes. you tried to remember everything. you wanted to remember everything about this moment, about what it was like to have rafe inside of you. christ, you’d been in this same spot a week ago, daydreaming about his damn arms and veins and whole entire being. you’d lusted after him, tasted him, had him taste you, and now here you were. how the fuck did you get here?

you took a deep breath and leaned your head up. rafe’s mouth was open, his grip now like a vice on your thigh.

“fuck, you feel so good,” rafe said. “just like i imagined.”

you nearly whined at that and pressed your thighs into his hips to hold him in place. you licked your lips and pulled his mouth to yours, inviting him to move finally. he pulled his hips back slowly, holding onto you before moving back it. he did it a couple times, trying to get you used to him. fuck, he felt amazing.

rafe set a pace, his hand making a home on your lower back while his other held your leg up behind your knee. you couldn’t get enough of his praises each time he pulled away from you.

“god, you’re perfect,” he moaned, slipping his tongue into your mouth. “you fit so nicely around me, baby.”

you also couldn’t get enough of that damn pet name. it sounded even better falling from his lips in this exact moment.

“you’re taking my cock so well.”

with that praise you couldn’t help the way you fluttered around him, squeezing him tightly and causing both of you to moan. he almost lost his rhythm for a moment but got it back as he kissed the corner of your lips down to your jaw. you kept your eyes closed, you found it easier so you could focus on just feeling him.

he pressed kisses down your neck, stopping at a few places to nip. it tickled you and aroused you at the same time, if not more. a minute later, he found his way to your breast, your back arching again to push into his mouth. his tongue appeared, flicking over your nipple.

“rafe,” you moaned louder than before and tightened your legs around him as you felt that coil wind up. “go f-faster.”

he groaned against you, the vibrations traveling all the way down to your core. he picked up the pace and groped you now, giving your breast a squeeze while his tongue flicked again. his teeth skimmed over it before he bit down gently, making your hand fly to his hair to keep his head where it was.

his thumb appeared on your clit and you had a feeling that he was about to completely ruin you. his mouth popped off of you and he leaned in for a kiss, his lips wet and swollen. wrapping an arm around his shoulders, you cried out as he grabbed a tight hold of your hip and picked up the pace, your skin starting to smack. you felt yourself squeeze around him as his tongue played with yours and it was almost too much that you had to pull away from the sensation.

“holy— f-fuck. rafe, i'm s-so close.”

“you gonna come for me?” his breath blew across your face, overly warm and heavy. “come for me. i want to feel you come on my cock, baby.”

his thumb timed up with his hips now, making your eyes prick with tears as you squeezed them shut tightly. you gripped rafe’s shoulder, trying to hold onto something as you felt it coming.

“that’s it, come on. i got you.” he coaxed you through it so gently that it made you want to sob.

instead, you cried out as you reached your climax, feeling yourself pulse and squeeze around rafe as you came over him. your whole body twitched and tensed as rafe kept circling your clit, helping you through it. you moaned lowly from your chest, your head falling backward and your eyes relaxing. you had no idea rafe was so close behind until his forehead fell to yours and his thrusts slowed. he pulled out and thrusted hard, doing that a few times until he came undone too. you felt him pulse inside of you, emptying into the condom in spurts. you wished you could taste it again.

you drew your face into his neck, still gripping his shoulder. your palm was sweating against the table behind you and you wondered how you lasted so long holding yourself up the whole time. your heartbeat gushed less in your ears as the minutes went by and your body relaxed against rafe’s. you still felt so full, wanting to keep him there longer.

pressing a kiss to that hollow between your neck and shoulder, rafe rubbed your back soothingly. “you did so good, baby.”

you hummed into his skin then pulled away to brush his hair and kiss him softly. “thank you,” you said quietly, not exactly for the compliment.

you made a noise close to a whine when rafe moved out of you. you knew he had too, watching as he pulled the condom off and tied it closed. he went to the trash bin in the kitchen to toss it while you reluctantly moved off the table. you slid, looking back to see a small mess you made with rafe on the surface.

just when you were about to ask rafe for something to clean it up with, he came back with a rag already in his hand. he held it out to you and you smiled, knowing he got it for you. you cleaned between your legs than folded the rag a couple times before wiping the table clean.

rafe’s hand came to your sides, caressing softly over your skin. you smiled at his chest, touching his arms and warming up at the thought of what you two had just done. he pulled you closer just to hold you, his hands roaming to your back. it was comforting to have the silence to touch each other, to just be for a few quiet moments.

“as much as i would love to just stand here with you, i'm a little paranoid that someone can easily see in here.” you said after a while, looking right at the open door to the back deck of the boat.

“maybe you should’ve thought about that before we fucked on the table.” rafe said and you could hear the stupid grin on his face.

you nudged him away jokingly as you laughed, but he switched to a serious look when he tugged you back by the hips. you swallowed as you felt him against your thigh, nearly ready to go again. you looked up at rafe, biting your lips together to keep the grin at bay.

“do you want to go inside?” he smiled softly, glancing down at your lips.

“yes,” you nodded.

you pulled away to pull your clothes on. rafe teased you with your undies, holding them out for you to take, then snatching them out of reach. you jabbed him in the side until he gave them to you, a teasing grin on his face.

your shirt settled around you and you looked at rafe just as he caught your wrist and tugged you closer. his lips connected with your cheek and he hugged you against him, warm and solid. it was familiar, something you didn’t think you’d be able to say about him. you looped your arms around his shoulders and hugged him back.

“what?” you asked when you pulled away, finding another dumb smile on his face.

“think we could do this again sometime?” he searched your eyes, glancing down at your lips.

you laughed and rolled your eyes, knowing that’s exactly what you were about to do once you got inside the house. why would he ask such a silly thing?

“of course,” you said anyways before pushing him away to get your keys.

you headed inside with him, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist. you wondered how you looked, walking into tannyhill with him. you knew by the smile on your face that you were happy, and you guessed that he was too by the way he was holding you against him.

“wheezie?” rafe shouted into the house as he closed the door behind you two, his hand clasped tightly around yours.

silence followed his voice as you looked around the entryway, trying your best to hear for wheezie’s movements, or anybody’s voice. coast clear, you wanted to say but rafe beat you to it.

“fuck yes,” he sighed happily and pulled you by the hips to him. you laughed against his lips, kissing him back as you kicked your shoes off.

the next few seconds were filled with stumbling up the stairs like two drunks, pausing every so often just so rafe could kiss you, rafe making grabby hands at you and hardly letting you go. it’s a wonder how you even made it up the stairs. you giggled at him once you got into his room, him quick to toss his shirt to the floor, and closed the door.

—

“hello?”

your head snapped to rafe beside you, who was still working on catching his breath. sarah was home and you immediately panicked as you sat up.

“anybody home?” she called again, sounding so sweet like she was.

“up here!” rafe shouted, bare ass as can be and making your jaw go slack.

you smacked his thigh, the sound cracking sickeningly, before you scrambled off the bed to pull your clothes on.

“stop hitting me,” he laughed and lifted himself up to watch you stumble putting your shorts on.

“fuck off!” you whispered as if you had a chance at avoiding the impending situation. you pulled your shirt on roughly, completely forgetting a bra as you walked out of rafe’s room.

you managed to close his door completely and meet sarah at the top of the stairs. she looked up at you, surprised, carrying a few shopping bags.

“hey?” she greeted. “i could’ve sworn i heard my brother instead.”

oh beautiful, sweet, smart sarah. was there any way out of this?

“i need to tell you something.” you said quickly and bit your lip anxiously.

sarah lifted an eyebrow at you, searching your face. you took an unsteady deep breath in. she won’t be mad, she won’t be mad, she won’t be mad. there was no way you could postpone this. this had to be done now otherwise you’d never forgive yourself. it’s so simple! you just have to say the words, just admit it. sarah, listen, i'm sl—

“you forgot this.” rafe’s voice came from behind you, making your stomach drop and sarah’s eyes completely divert over your shoulder.

turning slowly, you were absolutely mortified to see him holding your bra so comfortably. and he looked so proud too. god, you were going to kill him. that’s it, you were going to kill him. well, it had been nice while it lasted.

“oh my god,” you and sarah said at the same time.

⭐️taglist of beauties & babes!⭐️

@tovvaa @fttayla @dontjinx-it @moniamaybank @drewstarkeygf @cheshirecat107 @jjmaybankzz @obxcunt @honeyyhemmings @dvakat @macey730 @twinklelilstarkey @disrecpectful @prettylilwolf-blog @jjcanloveme @ityagirljay @oopsiedoopsie23 @ohhersheybars @igotmajordaddyissues

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron obx

356 notes · View notes

sqoiler · 4 years ago

Text

On the Thursday of the last week of kindergarten, the DVD that Miss Martinez was going to play turns out to be scratched beyond recognition, and so she gets out construction paper, scissors, markers, and glitter glue.

“Father’s Day isn’t for a few more weeks,” she says. “But why don’t we make some cards, just like we did for Mother’s Day, okay?”

The kids all get to work, reaching for the pile of brightly-colored paper. Stephanie Brown, who will be turning six in August, is the last one to get up. She shifts through the leftover colors--black, a pukey shade of green, blue, white. She picks up the black one and takes it back to her desk. She does not want to make a stupid card for her stupid dad. The other kids at her table are enthusiastically chattering about their dads’ favorite colors and jobs and drawing crayon drawings onto the paper. The girl next to her is cutting a snowflake out with safety scissors.

Steph picks up a white crayon and stares at her blank card. Across the room, Dexter raises his hand.

“What if we don’t have a dad?” he asks. Steph remembers from Mother’s Day that Dexter has two moms.

“Make a card for someone else,” Miss Martinez suggests. “Your grandfather, maybe. Or a neighbor, or a hero.”

A hero?

Steph looks at the black card before her, and her white crayon. She smiles.

And she makes a Father’s Day card for Batman.

-----

On the Monday of the last week of first grade, Mrs. Arnold, the art teacher, sits down her class and passes out white paper.

“Father’s Day cards,” she explains. Stephanie Brown, seven in August, considers making her own father a card. She didn’t get him anything last year but he didn’t seem to notice, and she’s not really that mad at him this year. But he didn’t seem to notice, and when Steph thinks about it, she thinks Robin probably doesn’t make Batman a card. Steph could make another card for her own dad at home, and make one for Batman at school.

Mind made up, she reaches for black markers and gets to work.

-----

On the Tuesday of the last week of second grade, Stephanie Brown, almost eight years old, sits down in art class and carefully draws a black blob with pointy ears, and a red and green and yellow stick figure, next to it, and she tries to remember what Nightwing looks like, and when she can’t remember she just draws Robin again but bigger.

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, she writes in red marker, and she closes the card.

------

On the Wednesday of the last week of third grade, Mrs. Arnold passes out watercolors in art class with pieces of thick paper, and tells them to make presents for their dads. Stephanie Brown, nearly nine, hasn’t seen her dad in almost four months, and she uses up almost all the black water colors at her table painting a picture of Batman.

------

On the last week of fourth grade, nobody sits down their class to have them make Father’s Day cards.

On the Thursday before Father’s Day, Crystal passes Stephanie Brown, age almost-ten, a card bought from the store and tells her that they’ll mail it to Blackgate the next morning. Happy Father’s Day, the card says. You’re the best dad ever! the card says.

Steph stares at it for a long time.

Then she tears out a piece of notebook paper and folds it in half, taking the rainbow gel pens she got in December and picking up the pink one. She squints at it and sees that it’s nearly run out, so she picks up the purple one instead.

When she’s done drawing Batman and Batgirl and Robin and Nightwing, she decides she likes purple, and she folds the notebook paper inside the card her mother gave her, and she doesn’t mail anything to Blackgate the next day.

-----

On the last day of fifth grade, Mr. Robinson turns on The Great Mouse Detective and sets out a stack of colored paper and scissors. He tells the class they can do whatever they want during the movie and even sets up chips and cookies, then he sits in the back of the classroom and maybe falls asleep. Stephanie Brown, ten-going-on-eleven, wants something to do with her hands, so she takes a black piece of paper and cuts out a batsymbol. She learned how to draw them by sticking her head out her window at night and looking at the sky, and she’s proud of her newfound skill. When she’s done cutting it out, she’s not really sure what to do besides maybe tape it to her shirt, but her dad’s been out for a week now and she thinks he’d be mad if he saw that.

Instead, she folds it in half and writes HAPPY FATHERS DAY across the middle using white-out. Skye, the girl who sits next to her, leans over and asks what she’s doing, and Steph pauses. She’s...she’s not really sure why she keeps making these. To prove a point, maybe. She’s not really sure what point, though.

“Do you think Batman ever gets cards?” she asks in a whisper.

“Yes,” Skye says. “Probably every day.”

“Oh,” Steph says. “Well, I probably won’t send it then.”

“Okay,” Skye says, and then she downs half of her dixie cup of orange juice and turns back to the movie. Steph puts purple glitter glue on her batsymbol.

------

On the first week of April, Stephanie Brown, age seventeen, pulls a plastic bin out from under her desk. There’s a cardboard box beside her, and two other cardboard boxes on her empty mattress, full and taped shut. There’s a full duffel bag of clothes next to her, and her posters from her walls have been taken down and rolled up. All she has to do is finish going through her desk, and then she’s done. The rest of her things will be sold or something, she’s not sure.

She pries off the lid of the bin before her and takes out old school binders and ragged notebooks, paper folders falling apart and ancient art projects. She lifts out a collage she probably made in seventh grade and tries to decipher the meaning behind it. There is a cutout of red heels from Kohls on top of a blue betta fish.

Steph decides it will go in the trash pile and sets it aside, lifting out a yellow plastic folder. She opens it, curious, and lifts out a black paper batsymbol. She gasps when she opens it.

Her Father’s Day cards!

Of course, she had never sent them, so she has all--she counts quickly--six of them. She looks them over, laughing at her kindergarten misspellings and looking at the evolution of her drawing ability fondly. This is--she totally forgot about this. Steph closes the folder reverently and puts it on top of her duffel bag. There’s no way she can get rid of this--especially with the purple cape still in the hidden part of her closet. Especially not with where she’s packing up to move to.

----

On the third Sunday in June, Stephanie Brown, age eighteen-in-August, takes up her yellow plastic folder from where she hid it under her new mattress, and she leaves her room, tucking it under her arm. She gets like four steps down the hall before another door opens, and already an accusing voice says, “What’s that?”

Steph whirls around.

“None of your business,” she says. Tim makes a face at her and she makes the same one back, because she is very mature. To prove her maturity, she slides down the banister on her way to the kitchen.

Dick and Cass are in there, doing the dishes. Steph watches them for a second and then says, “Why do you have dishes at this hour?” ‘This hour’, upon checking, turns out to be almost noon, but nobody wakes up early in this house.

“Breakfast for Alfred,” Cass says.

“You can do that?” Steph asks, thinking that Alfred would get offended if someone tried to cook for him.

“You can today,” Dick says, shrugging, and Steph frowns, realizes that they ganged together to make breakfast on Father’s Day for Alfred and didn’t invite her.

It was probably an accident, she reasons, but then she remembers Tim and turns to face him.

“Why didn’t you make breakfast for Alfred?”

“I was sleeping,” he says.

“He’s impossible to wake up so we called it a lost cause,” Dick says. “We have extra pancakes, though, help yourself.”

Steph is still a little affronted, but she knows that she’s the newest person in the house and she’s only staying here until her mom’s done with rehab and whatever, so they probably didn’t think she’d want to be included, even though Alfred is everyone’s grandpa, even Babs’s. She goes to pick up a pair of pancakes and bites into one, deciding syrup can wait, and she leaves before they can rope her into conversation. Besides, she’s a little scared they’ll start referring to whatever plans they have with Bruce, and she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to react.

She heads to Bruce’s study and pushes open the door, glad to find him in there. She thinks if she had to search for him she’d probably lose her nerve and chicken out. Bruce glances up for like half a second and then looks back at the computer, and she takes a deep breath and steps inside fully.

Now or never, she thinks, and so she marches right up to him and slams the yellow folder on the desk.

“What’s this?” Bruce says, and Steph isn’t really sure how to explain, so she says, “It’s, uh, I found it when I was packing my stuff, and it’s...it’s from a while ago, but I thought you might, um…”

She trails off as he picks up the folder and opens it, raising an eyebrow at the contents from inside. She kinda wants to look at his face, but also totally doesn’t want to do that, so instead she looks at the desk, and opens her dumb mouth back up. “They always used to have us do Father’s Day cards at school or whatever and I never wanted to make one for Arthur so I made those instead ‘cause...well I don’t really remember why but whatever I thought you might want to see them.”

“Stephanie,” Bruce says, and she shuts up and bites her lip, looking up at him. “You...made these?”

“Yeah,” she says. He looks back down at the cards in his hands, all spread out--even the one that was intended for Arthur that Steph never sent. He touches the one from kindergarten. “Um. You can keep them.”

Bruce stands up. Steph isn’t really sure at all what he’s thinking, but he steps away from his chair and wraps his arms around her, holds her tight.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“Happy Father’s Day,” she says, and when he squeezes her she closes her eyes, exhales, and squeezes him back.

(based on this post x) (ao3 here x)

#(posts fathers day fic in december)#stephanie brown #bruce wayne #brotp: slap #my writing #long post

473 notes · View notes

parchmentedpetrichor · 3 years ago

Text

➳april’s fool ♡

in which fred weasley is in love with y/n l/n, the girl he happens to tease and insult profusely for her attention.

fred weasley x gryffindor!fem!reader

word count: ±4.3k

tw: food, fireworks, pranking, fred being a bully, tad bits of swearing

drop a follow if you wanna see more of this content!!

my masterlist:D

ft. minnie, dumbledore and severus

yeah, your grandmama probably know me

get more bottles, these bottles are lonely

it's a moment when I show up, got 'em sayin', "wow"

april’s fool

“tomorrow is april fools,” dumbledore sighs.

“you know what that means...?” mcgonagall asks, her voice on edge.

“the twins,” snape replies quickly, not even bothered one bit as he sips his dark coffee.

“and their pranks,” dumbledore dramatically rolls over in his armchair.

“okay and?”

“they’re a hazard, severus!” mcgonagall replies.

“that doesn’t stop them.”

“what will stop them?” dumbledore ponders, eyes faint with interest.

“you still have those weird buzzy fireworks right?” snape asks.

“of course.”

“and minnie, you have the cake mix your grandmother gave you?”

“still in my cupboard next to the biscuits.”

“excellent.”

y/n l/n listens from the other side of the door, grinning. she’s been called to mcgonagall’s lavish office for some business she hopes isn’t trouble, but the conversation the three are deeply invested in piques her interest.

she likes fun. the type of continuous laughter and uncontrollable fits of giggles at noon. that’s why she enjoys the pranks the twins play. they’re bold, sharp and reckless and have the undoubtable trademark of fred and george on them.

one too a many times she’s been on the receiving end of them. one time the twins had charmed the library so that she and other studious students could not find any books that they wanted or needed for a whole week.

another time, her hair had been dyed bright pink. she wasn’t a fan of it, but tried her best to rock it. it worked. y/n had received many compliments on her bubblegum pink locks.

she laughed it off a lot. whenever something quite embarrassing happened, it was usually funny.

even the snide remarks the older twin always cast her way.

including the time he called her a blackhead. well, multiple times.

“oi, l/n, looking like a blackhead.”

george had rolled his eyes at his brother before adding kindly, “at least you have nice hair. your tie’s always shiny too.”

she had just laughed, “at least i’ve got the blackhead looks to pull pink hair off, weasley, you can’t even pull off ginger hair, and thanks, georgie. love ya.”

fred had looked taken aback, but y/n still scowls at the memory. she gets she isn’t pretty, but there is a line you don’t cross when trying to insult someone.

he always calls her the most awful nicknames too; body parts that align with her name and random pieces of rubbish she isn’t bothered to remember.

she shakes herself of her thoughts and draws herself up, knocking thrice on the door lightly.

“come in,” mcgonagall’s calm tone beckons.

“good afternoon professors!” she chirps, smiling at all three.

they smile back. even snape. they’re big fans of the girl, who’s studious but mischievous. albus dumbledore has always thought that y/n’s eyes always look like all she’s seen is a beautiful sunset.

“now you must wonder why i called you here,” mcgonagall starts.

“you see, how have you punished the weasley twins when they play all those pranks on you?” dumbledore eagerly asks.

y/n gives a light laugh, “i just prank them back. i won’t get detention for this, right?” she jokes.

they laugh, “of course you will,” snape jokes back and for a second y/n is surprised that severus snape, the ever so cold potions professor, is cracking jokes. especially to her.

“well then, i guess i can’t tell you how i prank them back then,” she drawls dramatically.

“no, no, do tell, we’re, what do you young people say?” mcgonagall pauses, “ahh yes! we’re all ears!”

y/n bursts out laughing, “okay, i usually do something that’s subtle enough but still very noticeable. they need to be anonymous too, or that’ll start prank wars and i’m only looking for short term pleasure really. one time, i dumped a whole bunch of polyjuice potion in both their little goblets. fred became george and george became fred. they were so confused.”

mcgonagall is impressed.

“can you bake?” dumbledore asks and y/n shakes her head for a long time.

“can’t bake for my sanity.”

“awesome. that is what i thought too,” dumbledore answers and y/n smiles.

a single knock sounds. it’s proper and formal.

“come in!” mcgonagall yells.

draco malfoy in all his glory steps into the room, eyes alight with concern, ever so indifferent.

y/n knows him from quidditch. they’ve become relatively good friends, though she thinks he is very busy with his home life. she also knows that there’s more to him than the facade he has.

“afternoon,” he nods and gives a charming smile.

“now, draco, i understand your mother had enrolled you in baking classes,” snape says.

draco nods.

“you must bake a cake,” mcgonagall hands him the cake mix.

she hands y/n the box of fireworks and winks.

“good day professors! make sure to be at breakfast tomorrow!” y/n shouts, dragging draco with her to the kitchens.

soon draco is laughing with y/n, at her atrocious puns and lightly placed jokes, finding himself very much happy. he’s not interested in her romantically, he simply enjoys her company. he’s even sharing some funny stories of his own too.

“...and i told him, to precisely fuck off.”

“so that’s how you deal with him!”

“oh no, he didn’t stop. he kept bugging me.”

“what did you do then?”

“i cast a muffliato charm on him.”

y/n bursts into laughter as they pass the gryffindor common room, quickly hiding the box of fireworks in her cloak as she spots two red heads quietly snickering by the fat lady.

they notice the unlikely pair scurrying down the stairs.

“hey, google eyes!” fred shouts.

y/n doesn’t know fred well enough to decide if that greeting is dedicated to herself, so she continues upon her way.

“weasley,” draco states.

“huh?” y/n fakes oblivion.

draco jerks his head in the way of the twins, where fred is smirking handsomely, leaning against the wall in a model-like fashion.

george is shaking his head in dismay.

“i said googly eyes!” fred shouts again.

y/n won’t lie, she thinks fred has undoubtedly good looks and his ginger hair is cute. he’s just a terrible person. to her, at least. she knows she’s biased, she’s often seen fred comforting ginny after a bad fight with a boyfriend, and from what she’s heard from alicia and angelina and katie, he’s funny too.

she whips out her glasses and stares deadpan at him, before rolling her eyes and running with draco down the stairs, laughing like madmen.

they finish baking late at night, and waving her wand smartly over the cake, y/n produces a charm that will make the fireworks activate as soon as the cake is cut open.

draco smiles as he pipes purple and orange roses, writing a ‘happy bday fred and george’ in chocolate letters.

they add lots of sprinkles, hoping to seem like avid admirers of the twins.

“does miss l/n and misters malfoy need any assistance?” a house elf asks.

draco just about opens his mouth to snap a ‘no’ when y/n gives him a silencing look.

“thank you rosemarie, but that is not needed, you are welcome to watch and talk with us though,” y/n politely answers, giving her a grin.

the house elf sniffles, “miss l/n is too nice! rosemarie will make some hot chocolate for her! pretty hair!”

y/n laughs, “thank you very much, rosemarie. i think mister malfoy would also like some hot chocolate, with a tiny bit of firewhiskey, if that’s alright with you,” she winks at draco who just scoffs in reply.

when they’re finished with the cake and the hot chocolate, y/n enters the gryffindor common room. angelina takes the cake and wraps it up in a box and nice wrapping paper. she sends it flying to the twins’ usual spot on the gryffindor table.

“thanks angie!” y/n smiles, getting up from the cozy spot near the fire in the common room.

“why are you going? we’re staying up till midnight for the twins’ birthday; wanna join?” angelina asks.

y/n shakes her head, “i’m not too close with them, it seems like a rather intimate ceremony,” she keeps her words fluffy and light. really, she would join any birthday celebration, but she didn’t think she could handle the constant insults and annoying comments fred always made about her. and this would have been completely acceptable if she had done something to any one of the weasleys, but she hadn’t. she even regards ginny weasley as a little sister and was invited to one of ginny’s infamous slumber parties. okay, she might have a little crush on him for his joke-ish nature, but it’s nothing she can’t get over. he’s out of her league, for sure, she thinks. and terribly rude. she doesn’t understand why she still harbours those feelings for him. maybe because that time adrian pucey was mocking her for her ‘blood purity’ he stood up for her. or that time she hurt herself at quidditch and fred stayed up with her bandaging her wound. he cared when it mattered, she guesses.

“i’m sure they would love you there.”

“fat chance,” she scoffs, “have a good night!”

she goes to her own dormitory up the stairs. she’s well known in gryffindor house, but for different reasons than the twins may be. although she’s close with angie and alicia, she’s not close with the twins. mainly because she’s always studying, playing quidditch, and doing prefect things.

being on a quidditch team with fred weasley is bearable. mainly because she’s the captain.

she’s stopped by a large hand on her shoulder. the owner of the hand swivels and suddenly a grinning fred is revealed.

“where’re you going?” fred weasley’s annoying voice pronounces.

“the sahara desert,” she snaps back dryly, “you’re in the way of my world exploration.”

“am i, really?”

“‘course,” she reigns her attitude in, “nice night, isn’t it?”

“for you? never.”

she scowls. fred watches in utter amusement as she takes a deep breath and charmingly smiles.

“dearest freddie, will you please allow me to get to my dorm so i can have some sleep?”

fred’s heart skips a little at the nickname but shakes his head.

“what’s the password?”

y/n sighs. “i don’t know. y/n is a blackhead. googly eyes. whatevers.”

fred lets out a loud laugh. y/n finds herself trying hard not to laugh with him.

she turns around, ready to find her hufflepuff friend that has a spare bed in their dormitory, knowing fred is really stubborn.

“that’s not the password.”

“well, good night.” she walks off, before intensely diving in a style harry potter himself would be proud of, onto the stairs and running up the dorms laughing.

fred stands at the bottom of the stairs, dumbfounded, his jaw hanging open.

“close your mouth, flies will be caught,” he heard the giggling voice of y/n.

“close yours and you’ll look better,” he insults back.

“oh shut up. we know i’m the prettier one. and that’s saying something.”

the next morning, fred and george wake up to presents, a rowdy common room, and a nice cake sitting waiting for them on the gryffindor table.

for the first time, y/n takes a seat opposite them, her eyes alight with the familiar mischief they always held. she steals glances at the professors, who were beaming down with interest, as if they shared an inside joke. draco malfoy has an odd smirk on his pale face.

all eyes are on them as they cut open the cake. with a bang, fireworks come flying out of the cake in all directions, sending crumbs and icing flying in the air and leaving soot on the twin’s faces. their ginger hair is covered neatly with white icing and the fireworks continue for a calamitous five minutes. everyone’s too busy laughing and trying to dodge the flying cake to see that y/n l/n and draco malfoy are laughing quietly in a corner together, both with spells like umbrellas.

fred’s eyes, however, are trained on y/n, who’s rolling over in laughter. he quickly casts a scourgify on himself and george, and strides casually over to her and malfoy, the usual lazy smirk on his face as he hears ‘draco ohmygosh that was the best. your cake decos are on point! d’ya think he’ll ever bully me again?’. that confirms his suspicions. she did play this prank on him. and it makes him feel fuzzy inside.

his face then contorts into a frown. she thinks he bullies her?

“i wouldn’t say he bullies you, y/n.”

he smiles. never mind.

“but it isss! i can assure you, there is absolutely nothing nice ‘bout being called a frame!”

fred snorts at the time y/n had been gushing adorably over a picture frame that was embellished with gold and bronze flowers to angelina. he had went over and in an attempt to catch her attention, said ‘you’re a frame’.

sure, he was good at flirting, but not to the girls he really really liked.

“that’s fucking funny,” malfoy laughs.

“oh shut it draco, your face is funny. but yeah, i should probably ask him to start fresh.”

he decides to interrupt their conversation.

“ask who to start fresh?” he butts in.

y/n doesn’t even look surprised, “in fact, you, fred, because i’m not really sure if i’ve done anything wrong to you or anything, and by my memory i don’t think i have and you keep being rude and stuff. if i have, i’m really sorry for it and i’m sorry that i hurt you and all. if we can y’know, start over, and maybe be friends?” she catches the unreadable look in fred’s eyes and hesitates, “or maybe not, that’s okay, we don’t need to!” she gives a small laugh, “er, sorry for ever bringing it up?”

the earnestness of her tone and the wistful look in her eyes makes fred fall a little harder. ever since he saw her nervously fiddling with her robes in first year, he’s been smitten.

there’s a silence. malfoy has slipped off, the sneaky bastard.

fred simply takes y/n’s hand, giving her a look as if to ask for permission.

she swallows and nods.

they’re in the courtyard, which is sunny and light. flowers are blooming everywhere.

“can i kiss you?” fred asks.

y/n’s eyebrows go up. “what?”

“can i kiss you?” fred repeats patiently.

“as in kiss? k-i-s-s?” y/n asks, eyes wide with suspicion and curiosity.

“yep,” he chuckles, “crazy, aren’t i?”

“yeah, you’re crazy.”

“really? can i kiss you?”

“i’ve never really kissed anyone.”

“i guessed that.”

her eyebrows furrowed in hurt, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i’ll tell you if you let me kiss you.”

“there better be a good reason because i was saving it for someone special.”

“i need a yes, love.”

she huffs, “yes.” she won’t tell him that she has a crush on him, because to be honest, she still isn’t sure if this is a prank or not.

she surprised when fred tilts her head up ever so gently, a smile on his face.

this kiss is short and sweet. he tastes like cinnamon.

when they’ve let go, fred notices the light pink dusted over her cheeks. he smirks.

“you have to tell me why you thought i’ve never kissed anyone,” she said, eyes flashing in deep thought.

“such a beautiful person as you does not deserve kisses from anyone.”

“...”

fred took this as a sign to go on. “the reason i’ve always teased you endlessly is because i want your attention. i didn’t think you’d give it to me any other way. if you haven’t noticed, i’m in love with you. i think you’re absolutely beautiful, both ways. i love it when you frown and get annoyed, even if you rarely do, i love it when you study so hard your face makes this really concentrated look. i love it especially when you laugh and smile and joke and play pranks. even if they’re on me.”

“...” she was studying his movements. inside her brain, a frenzy was going on. part of her brain- the ever so optimistic part, was screaming happily, and the logical part was using body language to analyse whether he was lying or not.

eyes? their honey brown colour was glistening with affection and truth, an expression so dainty on his face.

a quaint little smile was on his lips, a small one, a genuine one. it was different to all the other smiles she’d seen him smile.

he wasn’t acting, she decided. if he was, he should take up a job in broadway.

“y/n?”

her brows were furrowed. she’d never been confessed to as genuinely as this before.

if they started this type of relationship would he still be mean and insult her all the time?

“i-i need time. to figure this out.”

he doesn’t look disappointed, she thinks. instead he looks down at her with... adoration?

“of course, sweetness, anything, i’ll wait for you.”

she smiles, “thank you, freddie.”

☆

it’s been a few days since fred’s confessed to her. she’s still unsure if he was joking or not. why?

at this moment, she’s watching him giggle with angelina johnson. it seems like he’s forgotten everything and anything. he’s gotten closer to her. maybe he’s lost feelings for y/n? she can’t blame angie, she’s a wonderful girl. if he likes her, that’s fine too. suddenly her feelings for him become very clear. she like-likes him. and it’s a bit too late.

but maybe he doesn’t like angie in that way? maybe he’s still into her?

y/n knows molly weasley raises her children with patience. she should trust that fred’s waiting for her.

but then again, she’s never gonna be as special as angie johnson. she’s just a ever so polite and outgoing nerd. someone who’s foolish enough to prank. angie’s smart, confident and funny and terribly patient. and effortlessly beautiful. she’s got the true gryffindor touch. and angie’s been one of fred’s best friends since day one. she’s always gonna be number 1.

that’s ok. she’ll accept it. she likes angie anyway. it was probably a joke anyway.

she couldn’t be jealous, just a bit dismayed that it wasn’t genuine. whatever, she thinks. we can just go back to how we were before. or not.

and it’s relatively easy. they never really saw much of each other anyway. she’ll get over this tiny little liking.

it’ll just be like normal. none of this happened. none of it. she grimaces bitterly, damning fred for his stupid games. should’ve known this was another of his pranks. but his acting though, certainly very good.

she smiles to herself.

“knock it off, y/n, you’re here to learn, not to love.”

and that answer, is satisfactory.

she gets up from her spot on the gryffindor table rather abruptly, saying goodbye to her friends, and makes her way to the kitchens. she knows she won’t be alone, she’ll talk to hansel and gretel, the twins that cook with the house elves every dinner.

they’re cleaning up as she walks in, book in hand.

“hi hans, g!” she calls, as she rolls up the sleeves of her sweater to help them with the dishes.

“y/n!” gretel gives her a hug with soapy arms and y/n giggles.

“how are both of you?” y/n asks.

“good, good, potions though...” hansel trails off and they all laugh.

“potions is always like that,” y/n agrees, “it’s supposed to be really hard for newts, so you can’t really blame the subject.”

“i’m thinking of dropping divination,” gretel says.

“yeah, that’s wise, gretel buns,” hansel teases and gretel scowls.

“divination is an easy subject, gretel, you just need to make random stuff up. i saw this weird bear thing in polly’s tea leaves, it wasn’t in the textbook. i told trelawney it was a symbol that a stranger would come and whip polly off her feet, with a whip the colour of the rarest german emeralds, leaving her absolutely smitten. i got full marks,” y/n laughs.

they laugh too, and soon a light flowing conversation is shared over cups of hot chocolate.

this is repeated for quite a few days and y/n even invites polly, marla and lenox, her best friends, to join. it’s a delicate, nice kind of week, one that suits her current struggles.

when the weekends roll around, hansel and gretel suggest that they all sit at the hufflepuff table. they share jokes and quips over the food, y/n reading a book as she bites happily into apple pie.

“pfft,” her lips upturn ever so slightly at the quote that the character makes.

fred watches her from the gryffindor table, utterly confused. y/n’s been avoiding him. he sees the flashes of hurt that run through her eyes whenever she sees him, and the quick grin that’s far too fake that follows. she’s been reading a lot more and he never sees her anymore.

he wonders what he’s doing wrong. so as he sees her walking with her friends to hogsmeade, he calls for her.

“y/n!”

her friends giggle as they see him, but she gives him a fleeting glance and raises her eyebrows at them, shaking her head, before profusely apologising to each one of them.

she approaches him warily, with all practicality in mind. she leads with her heart, but her head protects her.

fool me once, shame on you.

fool me twice, shame on me.

“you’ve been avoiding me,” he states.

“what would you expect?” she snaps, “isn’t this all a good laugh for you anyway?”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“you know what i mean, this was all a joke, wasn’t it? fooling my poor little heart which you know has a crush on you. my head simply won’t allow it. admit it, and we can both move on with our lives,” her tone is sharp and cold, her eyes burning with fury and hurt, “i may seem gullible, and i am,” she gave a short laugh, “but when i notice, don’t even try to lie.”

“this wasn’t a joke, love.”

“don’t call me that, and you and i both know it is. your acting though, absolutely superb!”

“what makes you think this was a prank, y/n? you were the one who asked for time.”

“yes, and the time made me realise that i had feelings for you despite all the teasing AND the fact you couldn’t possibly be genuine!” y/n says exasperatedly, her fury dissolving quickly, “you looked so in place with angie and everyone that it’s so obviously some sort of fun thing you did to try to get back at me!”

“angie?”

“a-and everyone else.”

“angie?” fred’s eyes were amused.

“you know, angelina, as in johnson.”

“angie?”

y/n shrugs, “you did bring her to the yule ball last year.”

“angie??!!!” fred was full on smirking now, as if trying to receive a real response.

“i think you like her, okay?! are we done here? i’d very much like a good book from f&b,” y/n sighs.

“i’ll accompany you to flourish and botts. why would you think i like her? didn’t i just confess to you?”

“yeah but it seemed kinda...” y/n trails off, not wanting her insecurities to come off as compliment fishing, “kinda far-fetched.”

“meaning?” fred knows exactly what she means.

“you know!”

“oh but i don’t,” he smiles innocently.

“well, you’re you!”

“is that supposed to be an insult?” he asks, faking a look of hurt rather well as y/n looks alarmed.

“no, no, as in, you’re nice to look at, and you’ve always insulted me and been so nice and cool to everyone. are you for real?”

“nice to look at?” a cocky grin is on his face now, much more noticeable than the slight blush that was creeping up his face.

“is that the only thing you could pick up?”

“nice to look at? what’s up with me repeating myself today?”

y/n lets out an agitated sigh. he doesn’t know, he’s blunt and straightforward. she likes cushioning her words.

“y’know, handsome? good looking?”

“my middle names.” another smirk to conceal the blushing.

y/n smiles. “of course, everyone knows it.”

it makes fred uncomfortable. her light tone is a bit menacing too.

“only joking.”

“i’m sure everyone does know it, darling.”

y/n is too busy looking at the dog that passes by to hear him, rambling quietly to herself over the cute scottish terrier.

“sorry, what was that?”

“aren’t i cuter than the dog?”

“nup.”

“really?” fred casually slings an arm over y/n’s shoulders, having to stoop a little lower to reach her.

“i think so.”

“well i’ll tell you something love, i think you’re absolutely stunning.”

“some love potion you’re on.”

“uh huh, the love potion is called love, sweetness.”

“so you’re for real?”

“as real as you and me.”

“you’re cheesy. this isn’t a prank right?”

“not at all, i love you.”

“i-i don’t think i love you just yet, but i think it’s possible,” y/n bites her lip, anxiously awaiting his response.

she tilts her head to look at him.

he’s beaming. he looks more handsome than ever, a sweet smile etched on his face as he looks down at her in utter adoration.

“you have a crush on me!” he pulls her into a hug and giggles like a little girl, kissing the top of her head.

she’s engulfed by the smell of burning wood and cinnamon and immediately feels safe in his strong arms.

“how’d you say we go on a date? so i can show how sorry i am for all the times i called you googly eyes and played pranks on you.”

“i’ll check to see if the girls are okay with it,” y/n replies, turning her head to see her friends. they’re gone.

“they are. i asked them to shoo off before i approached you. is that a yes?”

y/n nods, “of course, freddie.”

“i love you.”

she laughs, “you really are april’s fool.”

“i’m your april’s fool.”

he buries his nose in the crook of her neck to stop her from seeing his blushing red face.

#fredweasley #fred weasley x y/n #frederick weasley #fred weasley x reader #gryffindor #hansel and gretel #fanfic #harry potter #hogwarts #hufflepuff #angelina johnson #alicia spinnet #y/n #harrypotter #hogsmeade

110 notes · View notes