#tis my cross to bear
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thank you OP i got a good grade in tumblr, something that is both normal to want etc.
Hiya tumblr take my uquiz
#i purposefully got the first question wrong because i couldn't resist calling op a coward#i could've done BETTER#tis my cross to bear
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alt look concept for achille because I love playing dress up with him.
#ffxivsnaps#gposers#ffxiv gpose#ffxiv oc#hyur#mygposes.#been spinning him around like a rubik's cube all week long don't mind me#these weren't planned at all. but feast your eyes#this may become a 'achille in his younger years' look#i'm so sad that his cross necklace jewelry doesn't show up with this shirt. it would've tied the whole thing together#i tried changing the metadata and everything. well whatever#accepting that i'll never go full high fantasy with my ocs' outfits wrt his jewelry. gotta have some urban fantasy influences in it#plus cross necklaces + earrings that have no bearing or place in a story are kickass. to me
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why am i having to hold a gun to googles head to show me articles on the long term effects of hormonal birth control on the endocrine system in adult patients who began usage as a teenager
#barks#i just wanna know if having a hormonal iud as a teenager fucked with my shit or not#causeeeeee i switched to copper a few years ago and everything was gucci in the coochie until a bad summer hit#lo and behold i call the gyno and she puts me on nuvaring because my symptoms were a sign of hormonal imbalance#meaning i got my ass fucked up from the first iud. right?#fuck if i know i wish they didnt make it my responsibility and then not actually give a shit as to what really happens#the absolute hell you can go through both on and off of birth control is out fucking rageous#'cool my cramps arent as bad but im a raging bitch i want to rob a bank and i want to kill everyone and then myself'#can you please for more than five fucking seconds think about the actual effects these things have on us that arent 'harder to get pregnant#also never listen to anyone that tells you you cant get your tubes tied and still be able to have children down the line#they always wanna bitch and moan about it but its literally reversible just like a vasectomy. not as easy but still possible!#do we get mad at and blame the kitchen counter when a baby smacks their head against it? no. the baby is at fault#tell me why something i have no control over is the reason i have to bear the cross#instead of the dipshit baby that cause the issue in the first place being at fault?????????????????????#im going to burn this world down i swear to god i hate it more every day#the beauty is evident but the horrors persist#hi if you read all of this
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I want Pedro in ways that are concerning to feminism
me with every bearded middle-aged man i see tbh
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((I'm sorry but when like, someone is a SUPER close friend of mine.. I don't mean someone I occasionally chat to.. it's someone I talk to daily and am super attached to-- I WILL spoil you.. sorry gift giving is my love language.
#Ti speaks#I don't know how to express my love and care for someone so I just buy them things LOL#sometimes it's just little odds and ends#sometimes it can be a fucking video game or something#Bweeb Kitten Tobi and Bear are people I just wanna SPOIL#I talk to them all almost daily except Tobi but he's still my bestie#I have a few other friends I wanna spoil too#I NOW HAVE THE MONEY TO DO SO TOO#But I don't want to cross any boundaries and make someone uncomfortable#so it's why I only offer those three such things cuz I KNOW they're okay with it
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These are a couple doodles from yesterday, Gideon as a younger teen, before the growth spurt, maybe 14? He's discovered he's a vampire, and has a lot of recovery to do, since he's severely blood deficient.
I'm gonna let myself explode about my vampire gideon ideas, under construction, under the cut: (I don't write fanfiction, I just throw up my ideas on a tumblr post, apparently :'D)
This is what I love about tumblr - it's a place where I can throw the doodles (something that isn't finished *artwork*), and let myself be really delusional about fictional characters. So I'm gonna take a moment to ramble about the ideas I have for Gideon as a vampire.
If you're a fellow Gideon Head, HI THERE... anyway, here's my thought process on a potential vampire-gideon backstory???
I've always liked the idea of gideon being a vampire, and also becoming a much better person when he's older. And that got me thinking, maybe those two things are linked. Maybe the vampire thing is somehow tied into his reformation.
But I tend to lean towards building my ideas off canon (as opposed to making an AU). And if gideon was a vampire, and knew this during the events of the show, it would have come to light at some point. So, either he doesn't know he's a vampire, or he becomes one later. Becoming one later works narratively, but he's already so vampiric, with the white hair, pale skin, sunscreen, evil, etc. So I'm like, let's go with that.
So, gideon has gone his whole life without knowing he's a vampire, and without drinking blood. I'm thinking that being a vampire in this case (my gravity falls fan version of what a vampire would be) wouldn't adhere to typical vampire conventions. You don't NEED to drink blood to survive.
Here's the idea I got yesterday: after the events of weirdmageddon, gideons experience motivated him to become a better person. It was the awakening, basically. But in the subsequent years, he's still a little shit. Maybe he's in juvenile detention, or prison again. But now, he has the self awareness to know that what he's doing is wrong. This is where my ideas get a little fuzzy, so bear with me. Bud has his suspicions, and as a last resort, puts gideon on some sort of mission trip type of cross country trip, when he's in his teens. And along the way, maybe at the end, there's this secret group of vampires that open gideons eyes to what he really is.
Basically??? Without blood, gideon is very evil. He's an evil little shit. This may not be how it is for every vampire. Maybe some grow very sickly without blood, just get hungry, etc. The effects of blood deficiency vary from vampire to vampire. But Gideon becomes very unhinged. And he'd essentially been Blood Hangry for his whole life. That being said, some of it was just his personality that he needed to work through, but drinking some blood helped a LOT. Blood isn't food for him, it's more like his medication.
Once he has that discovery, he spends a long while, I'm thinking maybe even a year, just recovering from the deficiency. He's almost always drinking blood to keep up his levels, and he's very rarely seen in public to keep the vampire thing a secret. That's what these drawings were supposed to be, him in his pseudo bedridden state. This period in his life would be one big blur; mostly spent binge watching soap operas and being all cozy. In contrast to his usual suit + tie, he's dressing for max comfort: sweatpants, sweatshirt, a knit hat over his ridiculously big hair, and always wrapped in a blanket. Not sure if somehow he feels cold when drinking blood?? But for some reason, I feel like he'd always be wearing like 10 layers and laying under a heated blanket or something.
Eventually, he'd only need to drink blood about once a month for maintenance.
Character development wise - even as an adult, Gideon isn't sure if he's truly a good person. Is the blood deficient version of himself the true gideon? Or is this well adjusted man who he truly is? And there's an issue of the chicken and the egg, too. Gideon was born a vampire. Did these genes activate because he was predisposed to being evil? Or did the vampire thing happen by coincidence? Does being a vampire make him evil, or is it the other way around? He doesn't know, and he never will.
The one thing I'm not sure I like about this idea: i'm worried that I'd be writing off his villainous personality as an illness that can be cured with a thing. Obviously, it would be better if he faced that head on, and figured out how to be better. So I'm still grappling with that. But for now, this is an idea I'm entertaining. Of course, I think it would be interesting if there was a plot point where his usual source of ethically sourced human blood was compromised for a time, and he had to grapple with his personality going topsy turvy.
It's actually embarrassing how much I just wrote???? If you've made it this far, wow, I applaud you. I guess this was just my idea of having a good sunday night, writing down my silly thoughts on gideon gosh darn gleeful. Let me know your thoughts too!!!! I'd love to know if you have any ideas, or questions, or ways to strengthen this potential backstory.
#gideon gleeful#gideon fanart#gravity falls#gravity falls fanart#gravity falls gideon#gideon#vampire gideon#vampire gideon gleeful#gravity falls headcanons#gravity falls headcanon#sketchbook#traditional drawing#traditional art#pencil drawing#doodles#my doodles#monster falls#sure why not
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ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕕
Pairing: LADS Men (Main 4) x Fem!Reader Prompt: When you're feeling needy 🫦 Words: ~1.8k || 400-500 per LI Genre: Suggestive (Explicit), Established relationship Notice: Mentions of kink, nudity, sexual acts A/N: It's my birth week, and I'd like to give a little something to all of you who have supported me so far! Obviously, I was ovulating when I wrote this.
[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST] || Scorched (When the boys are feeling needy)
⊱ 𝕏𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕣
The sight of Xavier fresh from his workout was… intoxicating. He leaned against the doorway, chest rising and falling with each exhale, face a little flushed from the exercise.
His white, mesh tank top clung to his torso, accentuating every contour of his sculpted abs. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the droplets of perspiration gliding down his defined biceps.
Innocently, he tilted his head. “𝑊ℎ𝑦 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑙𝘰𝘰𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝘵 𝑚𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝘵ℎ𝑎𝘵?”
The wait for him to finish his exercise had been almost unbearable, each passing minute pulling tighter the simmering anticipation that now felt nearly overwhelming.
“𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝘵?”
He took a step closer, the space between you shrinking. “𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑏𝘰𝑢𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝑑𝑒𝜈𝘰𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑒.”
“𝘑𝑢𝑠𝘵… 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝘵𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝘵ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑑 𝑤𝘰𝑟𝑘,” you replied, voice much breathier than intended. Though, the subtle biting of your lip betrayed any pretense of innocence.
A slow smirk formed on his lips. “𝐼’𝑚 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑎𝘵𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑟𝘰𝑠𝑠, 𝘵ℎ𝘰𝑢𝑔ℎ,” he said teasingly.
“𝛮𝘰𝘵 𝑔𝑟𝘰𝑠𝑠.” You felt a blush creep up your neck, breath quickening as heat pooled low in your belly. “𝛢𝑐𝘵𝑢𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦, 𝑖𝘵’𝑠 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝘰𝑓 𝑖𝑟𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑠𝘵𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒.”
Xavier’s knees bumped into yours as he stood tall before you. How he looked down at you made your heart race with every beat.
“𝐼𝑠 𝘵ℎ𝑎𝘵 𝑠𝘰?” His tone was playful, but there was a dangerous edge to it.
The room suddenly felt too small, too warm, as he leaned in, a flicker of something darker crossed his features.
“𝑊ℎ𝑎𝘵’𝑠 𝘰𝑛 𝑦𝘰𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑?” His breath was hot against your ear as he effortlessly shifted you on the sofa.
The faint musk of sweat clouded your senses as you parted your legs, welcoming the solid weight of his body pressing into yours.
Tongue-tied, your thoughts scattered, solely concentrating on the way he began deliberately leaving a map of kisses down the column of your neck.
“𝐼…” The words died in your throat when he lightly bit on the sensitive spot just below your ear, soothing the sting away with his tongue.
“𝐶𝘰𝑚𝑒 𝘰𝑛, 𝑑𝘰𝑛’𝘵 𝑔𝘰 𝑚𝑢𝘵𝑒 𝘰𝑛 𝑚𝑒,” his soft, seductive purr ruined you.
The way your hip involuntarily bucked, desperate to feel every inch of him, sent a ripple of excitement coursing through you as it met his unmistakable bulge.
You swallowed hard. “𝐼—𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛'𝘵 𝑠𝘵𝘰𝑝 𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝘰𝑢𝘵 𝑦𝘰𝑢. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝑦𝘰𝑢’𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑚, 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝘰𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑘𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑠 𝑦𝘰𝑢—”
Before you could finish, Xavier yanked his top off, tossing it aside in a blur.
“𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑙𝑒𝘵 𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝘵ℎ𝑎𝘵 𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑛𝑎𝘵𝑖𝘰𝑛 𝘵𝘰 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒.”
Once you felt one of his hands caressing the inner of your twitching thigh, inching higher to cup your core—that wouldn’t stay clothed for too long—you knew that he would satisfy every craving you had.
⊱ ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕝
A week of waiting for Rafayel to return from his international exhibition felt like hell—especially with his endless teasing, sending you lewd pictures and provocative texts which only made it worse.
The constant reminders of what you couldn’t have gnawed your patience thin.
Like that photo of his glistening chest, fresh from the shower, while bearing a towel low on his hips, displaying the lines of his Apollo’s belt and the hint of what lay beneath.
Or when he sent you that audio message, voice rough and raspy, graphically describing what he wanted to do to you. His laboured breathing and the rustling of sheets hinted at the naughty thing he was doing, likely touching himself.
“𝛭𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑒, 𝑔𝘰𝑟𝑔𝑒𝘰𝑢𝑠?” Rafayel called out from the front door.
You ran to him, unable to contain yourself any longer. As soon as he was within reach, your arms went around his neck, pulling him down into a desperate kiss.
“𝑇ℎ𝑎𝘵 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ, ℎ𝑢ℎ?” he murmured, breath hot against your lips, palms squeezing your ass with a playful touch.
“𝛭𝘰𝑟𝑒 𝘵ℎ𝑎𝑛 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝘰𝑤,” you whispered, fingers tangling in his dusky purple hair. “𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝘰𝑢𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑚𝑛 𝑝𝑖𝑐𝘵𝑢𝑟𝑒𝑠.”
A wicked smile painted his lips. “𝘑𝑢𝑠𝘵 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑒𝑑 𝘵𝘰 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝘵 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔.”
Without another word, he scooped you up and carried you to the bedroom. If it were up to you, though, you would have been fine even on the parlour’s floor.
In a whirlwind of kisses and tangled limbs, he expertly discarded your clothes, laying you bare beneath him.
His eyes drank every inch of you, desire palpable in the way he pressed you into the sheets.
“𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑠𝘰 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ,” you breathed, arching against him as you were finally feeling the warmth of his bare skin again.
“𝐼 𝑘𝑛𝘰𝑤.” His teeth found your ear, tugging at the lobe. “𝐼’𝜈𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑐𝘰𝑢𝑛𝘵𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝘵ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑢𝑛𝘵𝑖𝑙 𝐼 𝑐𝘰𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝘵ℎ 𝑦𝘰𝑢, 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢, 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛.”
His hands were everywhere, and he was a menace, deliberately taking his time in memorising every dip and curve of your body, stopping you from taking things fast.
Rafayel tutted when he felt your trembling hands graze his belt. “𝛮𝘰𝘵 𝑠𝘰 𝑓𝑎𝑠𝘵, ℎ𝘰𝑛𝑒𝑦.” As a punishment, he pinned your wrists above your head, securing them with his belt. Tightly.
The whimpers coming out of your mouth only fueled him more. He chuckled at your impatience, leaving more butterfly kisses down your stomach, before beginning his descent to where you throbbed most intensely.
“𝛦𝑦𝑒𝑠 𝘰𝑛 𝑚𝑒,” he demanded, his voice commanding and gentle all at once.
A smouldering fire lit up in his pretty orbs as your eyes locked with his. “𝛮𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝘵𝘰 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝘰𝑤 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑐𝘰𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑝𝑎𝑟𝘵 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐼 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑔𝑎𝑖𝑛.”
⊱ ℤ𝕒𝕪𝕟𝕖
Your fascination with Zayne’s hands may have to be questioned.
There was something undeniably captivating about them, scars and all—those pale, jagged lines, if anything, only added to their charm.
For all their roughness, there was a grace in his hands. They had saved countless lives. And they also knew how to bring pleasure, especially when those skilled fingers delved into your—
“𝛨𝘰𝑤 𝑚𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑙𝘰𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑔𝘰𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝘵𝘰 𝑠𝘵𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝘵 𝑚𝑦 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠?”
Lost in thought, you didn’t even realise that Zayne had abandoned reading the journals altogether. His attention was now entirely on you.
“𝐼𝑠 𝑖𝘵 𝑎 𝑐𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝘵𝘰 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝘵𝑒 𝘵ℎ𝑒𝑚?”
A knowing smile pulled at the corner of his lips. With a gentle flick to your forehead, he murmured, “𝑌𝘰𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝘰𝜈𝑢𝑙𝑎𝘵𝑖𝑛𝑔.”
Of course, he kept track of your cycle. How he noted your dilated pupils and the rosy hue tinting your cheeks only confirmed what he already knew: your libido was reaching its peak.
Driven by the growing desire, you flung a leg over his thigh, straddling the solid muscle beneath you, seeking the contact you craved.
“𝛢𝑛𝑑?” you challenged, “𝑊ℎ𝑎𝘵 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑔𝘰𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝘵𝘰 𝑑𝘰 𝑎𝑏𝘰𝑢𝘵 𝑖𝘵?”
As he shifted to support your weight, the movement created delicious friction through your thin pyjamas, causing an unbidden mewl to spill out of your lips.
His mouth left a trail of heat along your exposed décolleté, tongue flicking out ever so slightly to taste your skin.
“𝛭𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑠ℎ𝘰𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝘵𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑚𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝘵 𝑦𝘰𝑢’𝜈𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑏𝘰𝑢𝘵.”
Lips brushing over the sensitive hollow between your collarbones, he pressed a deeper kiss right above your heart.
Excited, you whispered in his ear, “𝑅𝑖𝑔ℎ𝘵 𝑛𝘰𝑤, 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑎𝑏𝘰𝑢𝘵 𝑖𝑠 ℎ𝘰𝑤 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝘵 𝑖𝘵 𝑤𝘰𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑏𝑒 𝘵𝘰 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑑𝑒𝑒𝑝 𝑖𝑛𝑠𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑒, 𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑑𝑟𝑜𝑝 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑢𝑚.”
That stopped him in place. You felt a surge of satisfaction as you watched his eyes darken, almost consuming all the greens in his eyes.
“𝑌𝘰𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝘵ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛𝘵𝘰 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝘰𝑢𝑠 𝘵𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑖𝘵𝘰𝑟𝑦.”
Though you typically played it safe, the two of you still indulged in the feeling of raw intimacy every now and then.
Feeling a bold urge, you decided to take it up a notch. “𝐷𝘰𝑛’𝘵 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑚 𝑚𝑒 𝑐𝘰𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝘵𝑒𝑙𝑦, 𝑖𝑛 𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒 𝑝𝘰𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑏𝑙𝑒, 𝑍𝑎𝑦𝑛𝑒?”
The effect was immediate. A low growl was your only warning before he pushed you back against the soft bedding, his masculine body looming over you.
Those hands that you loved so much moved to your hips, fingers digging in with a bruising grip as he put you in a position that highlighted your vulnerability and his dominance.
“𝐷𝘰𝑛’𝘵 𝑠𝑎𝑦 𝘵ℎ𝑎𝘵 𝐼 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛’𝘵 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛 𝑦𝘰𝑢.” His once smooth and controlled voice had turned rough, full of dark promise. “𝑌𝘰𝑢 𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝘰𝑟 𝘵ℎ𝑖𝑠.”
⊱ 𝕊𝕪𝕝𝕦𝕤
Nothing looked better than seeing Sylus a bit roughened up after the end of a long day.
Silver strands had grown unruly, hanging down over his forehead. A new scratch blemished his sharp jawline, though the red mark had already faded to a tender pink as he shucked his suit off.
The midnight black dress shirt he had meticulously buttoned earlier had now popped open, blessing you with a view of his firm pectoral muscles.
“𝑊ℎ𝑎𝘵’𝑠 𝑔𝘰𝘵𝘵𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑛𝘵𝘰 𝑦𝘰𝑢, 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔?” Sylus’s arms snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against his hard body. The towel in your hand slipped from your grasp as he nuzzled into your shoulder like a cat seeking affection.
“𝑊-𝑤ℎ𝑎𝘵?” you stammered.
Goosebumps danced across your skin as he spun you around, trapping you between the cold marble of the shower and the heat radiating from his bare chest.
“𝑌𝘰𝑢’𝜈𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝜈𝑒𝑟𝑦 𝑗𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑦 𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑟 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 ℎ𝘰𝑚𝑒.”
When his rough palm “accidentally” bumped into the hard nubs of your breasts, a sharp gasp broke free from your lips. His other hand had journeyed between your thighs, finding your essence sticking to the fabric of your shorts.
“𝛢ℎ… 𝑠𝘰𝑚𝑒𝘰𝑛𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑛𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝘵𝑦 𝘵𝘰𝑑𝑎𝑦.”
Bashfully, you attempted to slip away, which was stupid as there was no easy way to escape the solid barrier of his broad frame.
“𝐼𝘵’𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑎 𝑙𝘰𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑓𝘰𝑟 𝑦𝘰𝑢, 𝑔𝘰 𝑠ℎ𝘰𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑐𝘰𝑚𝑒 𝘵𝘰 𝑏𝑒𝑑,” you managed to blabber out, cheeks burning at the intensity of his gaze.
Your yelp was loud as the rain shower was suddenly switched on, the cascading water drenching you both in an instant.
“𝘚𝑦𝑙𝑢𝑠!”
His rich laughter echoed through the steamy shower. He dipped his head, tugging your hair slightly before his teeth grazed against your pulse point
“𝐿𝑒𝘵’𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑢𝑝 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝘰𝑟𝑒 𝜤 𝘵𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝘵𝘰 𝑏𝑒𝑑.”
You called out his name in a needy moan, the sound trembling with urgency as he undressed you both. The warm water slicked your skin, and his hands glided over your wet, exposed body with an electrifying touch.
“𝛢𝑟𝑒𝑛’𝘵 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝘵𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑟𝘰𝑚 𝘵𝘰𝑑𝑎𝑦’𝑠 𝑒𝜈𝑒𝑛𝘵?” you gasped.
Despite the concern, you still eagerly welcomed his mouth as it collided with yours. Your lips parted to invite his tongue in, clawing at his shoulders desperately as you struggled to maintain on your tiptoes.
He pulled back slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. “𝛨𝑚𝑚, 𝑚𝑎𝑦𝑏𝑒 𝐼 𝘰𝑢𝑔ℎ𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝑚𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑦𝘰𝑢 𝑤𝘰𝑟𝑘 𝑓𝘰𝑟 𝑖𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝘵.” The teasing lilt in his voice stole your breath. “𝑊ℎ𝑎𝘵 𝑏𝑒𝘵𝘵𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝘵𝘰 𝑟𝑒𝑠𝘵 𝘵ℎ𝑎𝑛 ℎ𝑎𝜈𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑦 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙 𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑒?”
However, as he hoisted you up, his hardness aligning perfectly with your aching need, you knew that he would never let you leave the shower unsatisfied before doing so.
⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST
#ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐱𝐞𝐩𝐡'𝐬 writing nook#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace x y/n#love and deepspace x you#xavier x reader#xavier x y/n#xavier x you#rafayel x reader#rafayel x y/n#rafayel x you#zayne x reader#zayne x y/n#zayne x you#sylus x reader#sylus x y/n#sylus x you#suggestive
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gentle fingers, gentler boy
carmen berzatto x fem!hairdresser!reader
gif by @hotch-girl
word count: 3,589
warnings: swearing, joking mentions of arson, one donna mention, i don’t think anything else??
synopsis: carmy needs a haircut—desperately. or so natalie tells him. she sends him to you, and it’s safe to say carmy never would’ve expected a trim would turn into the best date he’s ever had in his life.
a/n: hello, my loves! don’t even ask my why this fic has taken me so long to write because i couldn’t tell you. but i do imagine it has something to do with the fact that i have the attention span of a goldfish these days. anyhow, i wrote this as a kind of predecessor to this fic, because something about carmy and his hairdresser gf is so special to me. let me know what you think!! happy reading <33
————
“You really do need a haircut, Bear.”
Sugar leans up against the office door frame. Her younger brother is hunched over the desk, an Igor incarnate, flipping through a pile of papers Cicero left for him.
Richie’s voice booms throughout the kitchen. “I been tellin’ him that, Sug! It needs a wash, too. He’s startin’ to look like Jack…Jack…” He snaps his fingers, searching for a name. “The psycho asshole from The Shining!”
“Jack Torrence,” Marcus chirps.
“Jack Torrence!” Richie claps, making Sugar roll her eyes. She moves closer to Carmen, leaning against the corner of the desk. She crosses her arms.
“I told you, Carm, you can go see my girl. She’s never done me wrong.”
That small, gentle smile she has grows on her lips. Natalie gently pushes her brother’s shoulder. “And hey, she stopped me from getting bangs again a few weeks ago.”
Richie’s hands fly upward, pressing together in a prayer pose. “Thank fuck. Bangs were never your look, babe.”
“Shut up, Richie!” Sugar and Carmen’s voices ring out simultaneously, as if they’d rehearsed for this very moment of synchronization.
Carmy’s clogs drag against the tile floor as he braces his palms against the desktop and pushes himself backwards. He scrubs his face with his hands, leaving it tinged red when he finally relents.
He looks up at his sister, a firm wrinkle formed between her brows. Carmen huffs.
“What did you say her name was?” Carmy asks, eyes darting to the clock, searching for the time only to realize no one ever fixed the damn thing. “Hey, Richie! Can you get some fuckin’ batteries in here?”
Sugar’s eyes squeeze shut at the volume Carm’s voice has just reached. But nevertheless, she pinches her nose and says your name.
“She’s like, fifteen minutes down the road. She went to school for it, she respects shy people, and I promise–she’s not gonna cut your ear off.”
Richie rounds the corner at that exact moment, a pile of double A’s shoved in his pocket. He pulls the analog clock off the wall and pries open the back panel. “Oh, you mean like that time Mikey snipped the tip of his ear clean–”
“Oh my god, enough, Richard!” Sugar’s hands fly around in front of her face. Unfortunately it only encourages Richie further, laughing to himself as he snaps four batteries into place. He’s still laughing—clapping his hands together because he’s so tickled—when he walks back toward the front of the house.
Carmen’s fist covers his mouth. He’s tempted to laugh himself, but he at least knows better by now. Natalie sighs loud enough for the people across the street to hear.
“Look, Carm. I’ll even make the appointment for you if that would help, but it’s gotta happen. You look like shit.”
Carmy snorts, standing up from the wonky office chair. “Thanks, Nat.”
Sugar’s phone is already in her hand.
“So that’s a yes? What time would be best? Actually, I’ll just tell you when you’re going. Settled.”
————
“You getting off, Leigh?”
Your coworker ties her hair up in an artfully messy bun. “Yeah, babe. I took a half day because it’s date night tonight.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you, shimmying her way across the floor so she can plant a sweet kiss on your cheek.
“Your mom got the kids?” You ask, laughing to yourself as you rinse the leftover conditioner from your sink.
Leigh claps her hands. “All weekend, girl!”
You toss your gloves in the trash, letting her hug you and bounce up and down in glee. She deserves this. She hasn’t gotten a night out with her husband in months, their three-year-old twins keeping them more than occupied.
“I hope you have fun tonight. Drink something with Irish cream in it for me, will you?”
Leigh’s hands pat your cheeks gently. “Oh, you know I will. Just wish you were getting out there too.”
You wave her away, and she’s quick to hold up her hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. Is Natalie’s brother still coming in today?”
Your eyes dart to the clock over her head. “Should be here in like, five minutes.”
The doorbell chimes.
Both yours and Leigh’s heads snap in that direction.
“Or…now.”
“Oh, fucking Christ.”
Your eyes flick back to each other immediately, having spoken at the exact same time. Leigh is not gonna let your outburst go.
There’s already a devilish grin growing across her face. “You think he’s hot, don’t you?”
You dart around her. “No. Those words never left my mouth.”
She catches you by the belt loop. “You’re right, I believe your exact words were ‘Oh fucking Christ, he could bend me over right here.’” Leigh’s laughter bubbles up and you fear she might keel over.
“That is an exaggeration,” you huff.
Leigh slings her worn out, bright red purse over her shoulder. “Bet you were thinking it though.” She risks a glance over her shoulder. “You’re not wrong though. His arms are huge. And you better go help him before we get a bad Yelp review.”
You start to wave her away. “Yeah, alright.” You follow her towards the front desk. “Have fun tonight,” you shout, “and remember to make sure you have meds for tomorrow’s hangover.”
She fake gasps, pausing just beside where Carmen is standing. “Me? Hungover? Never.” Leigh lowers her sunglasses just slightly and directs her next few words at the man in front of her. “She’ll take real good care of you, youngest Berzatto.”
The doorbell chimes as Leigh makes her way out to her beat up Mustang, leaving you and Carmy alone out front.
He laughs awkwardly, shuffling towards the front counter to meet you.
“Sorry about her,” you say. “She’s full of it. Anyway, Carmen, right? Natalie told me you’d try and come by today.”
Carmy’s cheeks burn with embarrassment from being put on the spot. But also because you’re so…pretty. He manages to pull together a few coherent words.
“She really said try?” he asks, the barest of smiles gracing his lips.
You cross your arms and walk over to your station. “No. It was more of ‘He’ll be there at 4:30 tomorrow or else I’m going to burn down The Bear and keep the insurance money for myself.’”
Carmen scratches at his curls. “Yeah, that I believe.”
You gently pat the back of your leather chair. “You can sit whenever you’re ready. I realize I never really introduced myself.” You say your name, and even if it’s a name Carm has heard a hundred times before, it somehow sounds hypnotizing falling off your lips.
The leather backing is cold through Carmy’s t-shirt. He hopes the shiver that moves down his spine when you thread your fingers through his hair passes off as the coinciding goosebumps.
“So, what are we thinking today, Carmen?”
His big blue eyes blink at you through the mirror. “Carmy,” he says.
“Hm?” you hum, running a wide-toothed comb carefully through his curls so that nothing snags.
“You don’t have to call me Carmen. Makes me feel like I’m in trouble.” A low laugh tumbles over his lips. “Carmy is fine.”
You smile at him. “Okay, Carmy. What would you like me to do with your hair today? Buzz cut? Mohawk?” You walk around to face him head on. “Extensions?”
You notice how nervously he plays with his hands. But you get it. You’re hoping to make him as comfortable as you can, and not just for that good Google review.
Carmy runs a hand over his mouth, hiding the sweet smile that’s growing there. The crinkles by his eyes give it away. You’re so fucking charming he can’t stand it.
He clears his throat. “I was thinking just a trim? It’s kinda long over my eyes, and sometimes it’s good to see things.” You giggle.
Good god, how’s he gonna get through this?
“Maybe a little shorter on the sides, too.”
“Like a mullet?” You quip.
He snorts. “Nah, not a full mullet. Maybe where it’s barely noticeable that it’s shorter there? I’m also shit at taking care of it, so if you could help with that…”
You take your bottom lip between your teeth. Carmy has to clear his throat, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. “How ‘bout this. I’ll take you to the sink and give it a wash, and then we’ll trim it, and I can have you help me style it so it’s easier when you’re at home?”
Carmy nods. “Yeah, that’d be great, thank you.”
Your hand slides across the back of his shoulders as you move away and towards the back room full of head-sized basins. “Come on then, Mr. Berzatto. Let’s wash that pretty head of yours.”
————
“That feels so good,” Carmen says, the words leaving his mouth before he has a moment to think them over. “Wait—is that a weird thing to say?”
You laugh from your place behind him. “No, not at all. That’s why I keep my nails a little longer, because my clients always tell me this is the best part.” Your hands are covered in a lavender-scented shampoo, your fingertips massaging the foam into his scalp. “A good head scratch does wonders for the soul.”
You watch Carmy’s lips lift at the corners. His eyes are closed, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he dozed off. You’re always happy to keep a conversation going with clients, but the silence is just as well.
The sounds of foils getting folded in place by your coworker out front, the air conditioner, the radio—it’s all oddly soothing. The radio station Leigh always sets it on has the oddest selection of music choices for one given channel. Not that you mind that either.
You rinse Carmen’s hair out and apply conditioner to the mids and ends of his curls. You blindly grab a comb, muscle memory putting it in your grasp in seconds.
Carmy swears he’s gonna knock out. He’s trying about as hard as he did in school when he knew he should be paying attention to whatever math lesson but couldn’t keep his eyes open. And when your words reach his ears, he thinks you’ve just read his mind. Sensed the sleep pricking at his eyelids.
“You do have really nice hair, Carmy. Anyone else in your family have curls?”
You watch the way his brows knit together. “I think my mom? You’d never know it though. She’s straightened it every day since I was a teenager, like even when we weren’t leaving the house.”
You focus on your final rinse of his hair, allowing him to continue. “When I was a kid though, if she showered before bed and I needed her, her hair would be all wet and curly. That’s the only time I saw it like that.”
Carmy sits up when you wrap a thin towel around his head, holding it secure as he follows you back to your station.
“Leigh, the woman leaving when you came in? She has lots of clients like that. A lot of people weren’t taught how to take care of their curly hair.”
“Is that a hint?” Carmen quips. It makes you snort.
“Just a gentle one.”
Carmy watches while you cut his hair. Every once in a while your tongue will poke out, or you’ll wiggle your hips to a song on the radio. When you’re almost finished, what Carmen thinks is a Madonna song comes on.
You start humming, and Carmy knows he’s done for. Richie would call him whipped. He probably will tomorrow morning, just by reading Carm’s face.
“Out of the sky, I close my eyes…heaven help me.”
Carmy lets out a little laugh because you’re doing this little dance as you sift through his curls. You hear it, and it only encourages you more.
“Big Madonna fan?” he asks, his hand rubbing over his mouth to hide the boyish grin there. The tattoo on his hand catches your eye.
“She’s good for the soul.”
You crouch in front of him, rummaging through a cabinet for he doesn’t know what. “Your tattoos are pretty, by the way,” you say. It takes him by surprise.
“Oh. Thanks.”
You emerge with two bottles. “Do people not usually compliment them?” You spray his hair down with cool water, getting it to the stage of damp you need for the products to work.
Carmy laughs lowly. Maybe with a little hint of embarrassment. “Nah, they usually ask me what the hell they are or if I was drunk when I got ‘em.”
“Were you?”
He meets your playful gaze. “Only for a few.” Your smile is downright gleeful.
“M’kay, Carm. Let me give you the rundown.” He straightens and you get a glimpse of the chef he left at The Bear to visit you today. “So this is a leave-in conditioner. After you shower, you put just a little of this in your hands—like this—and kinda run it through your hair all over. Just so it’s in there well.”
You demonstrate, and for the first time, Carmy finally understands how people can look at him and question his ability to cook so seamlessly. That’s the way you do hair. Like it’s as easy as breathing for you.
“And this is a gel. It’s super lightweight, so it won’t feel gross or anything, and it’s not expensive either. You wanna use a little more of this, but not by much. You can do the same sort of thing, because your hair takes shape really easily since it’s not damaged any. And once that’s distributed, I want you to scrunch it some, just to get any excess product, but also to help any curls that need encouragement.”
You bite your lip because Carmy is nodding along, giving you his complete attention and it’s fucking adorable.
“And if there’s any curls by your face or anything, you can use your fingers to define them so they look how you want. You think you can do all that?”
Carmy laughs. “Not a chance.” Then you’re both laughing, and it feels so comfortable anyone would think you’d known each other for years.
“It takes practice. I’m gonna give you these to take home and use.” Your hand disappears in your back pocket for just a moment. “But if you want to put your number in my phone, I can always send you instructions if you need help…”
Carmy pauses. Freezes, even. You look at him nervously, afraid that maybe your ability to read the room has evaporated. Luckily, he proves you wrong.
“Wow. That was smooth.”
You exhale and laugh into the back of your hand. “I’m never that smooth, I don’t know how I managed that,” you chuckle. Carmy’s fingers fly over your keyboard.
“Thank you for today, really. I usually avoid the hairdresser at all costs.”
“Sugar did tell me that,” you grin.
“M-maybe I could make you dinner or something, for putting up with me…?”
Your face warms. “I’d like that, yeah.”
Carmy blinks. His phone goes off where you’ve shot him a text with just your name and a smiley face. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He rubs his hands together. “Okay, cool. Alright, yeah. What do you like?”
“I wouldn’t say no to pasta. Pasta is good in all forms.”
————
“You can tell me if you hate it. I won’t be offended.”
“I think you might have a nervous breakdown though, and you’re too pretty for that.”
Carmy blushes, shaking his head at you.
“What?” you laugh. “It’s true.” Your voice has a sing-song lilt to it. Over the past few weeks you’ve gotten to know Carmy a bit better. He’s been busy though, so it’s taken longer than expected to have dinner together.
He made up for it by providing you with pasta and cheesecake for dessert. He’s wearing this thick sweater, your eyes locking on his forearms where he’s rolled up the sleeves.
Sugar was so excited when you texted her after his hair appointment.
Natalie B: How’d it go? Was he a total pain in the ass?
You: it went well! got him all sorted out. he offered me dinner as a thank you (after he paid, of course). would that weird you out??
Natalie B: OMG NO!! He’s got such a giant stick up his ass, maybe your charm pulled it out! Go have fun. Leigh was telling me you hadn’t been on a date in forever last time I was in anyhow.
You: brb blocking both of you shitheads ♥️
You hadn’t expected a haircut to lead to any of this, but sitting here, in Carmy’s sparsely furnished apartment, looking at the soft smile on his face and the nervous way he’s fussing with his fingers as you eat the dinner he made you, you’re grateful.
Not that you’ll tell Natalie that. Or Leigh. They don’t need that ego boost.
You wipe your mouth on a napkin and look up to see that Carmy is gazing at you expectantly. You laugh, his eye contact making you a little nervous.
“It’s good, Carm. Really good. You can eat.”
He swipes his hand down his face, but when it comes down to grab his fork, he lets you see his smile. “I’m glad you like it. Not too much parsley or anything? I didn’t add lemon because Sugar mentioned you saying you didn’t like pasta with too much lemon juice in it.”
Your mouth drops open. That’s such a small, easy to forget thing. Maybe you will have to give Nat a hug.
You reach out to touch his hand. Tentatively, just in case it’s too far. “That’s so sweet, Carmy. It’s perfect, really. And honestly the lemon thing is from one very overpowering pasta experience. Maybe whatever you make me will be better.”
Carmen takes a big bite of pasta and a swig of beer so he has time to collect himself. “Maybe we can fix your lemon-related trauma.”
“As long as there’s a backup snack in case the lemon PTSD can’t be fixed.”
You both burst into a fit of giggles. The rest of dinner goes by, filled with conversation about everything and nothing—Carmy’s lack of knowledge about current television, your love of reading and need for someone to share the plots with.
Carmen is making you a plate to take home with you when he’s finally psyched himself up to ask his question. He says your name and you peer at him from your spot against the counter.
“I-uh…I’ve been trying to do my hair the way you taught me, but I can’t get it right. I was wonderin’ if you’d show me? Maybe? You don’t have to—”
“Of course I can. All you had to do was ask.” You push off the counter and beam at him. “Come on, I’ll help you.”
You’re lucky you already learned the way to his bathroom so that your streak of confidence would continue working so well. And when you squeeze out some of the hair gel into Carmy’s hands, you know he just needed an excuse. He’s got it down pat.
He runs his hands through his hair, scrunching clumps together every now and then, finger-curling the pieces up front and by his ears. Now you’re just waiting to see what he really wanted to say.
You cross your arms, attempting to look serious, but you can’t hold back the grin spreading across your face.
Carmen looks over at you, drying his hands now that they’re free of product. He’s never been great at reading people, but that look in your eye tells him he’s a shit actor.
“So, that didn’t fool you, huh?”
You giggle. “Not at all, Berzatto. You couldn’t even fake how well you’ve learned to do your hair.”
Carmy takes a step closer to you, rubbing his nose self-consciously. “I’m very bad at saying what I’m thinking. Or saying what I want.”
“I can see that.”
He squints at you, his lips ticking up just slightly.
“So what is it you want but are too scared to say?” you start. “Do we need to play hangman?”
That would normally get a laugh out of him, but he’s too on edge. Inhale. Exhale. Oh, just fucking say it, Carm.
“I wanna kiss you.”
Your ears burn. You release your bottom lip from where it was pinned between your teeth. “I was hoping you’d say that. Please do.”
You push up on your tiptoes, suddenly bursting with excitement and hoping that’ll convey to Carmen that he doesn’t need to be nervous because you want this just as bad.
It works.
You put your hands on Carmy’s collarbones the second his fingers slip into your hair. Your nervous system lights on fire, thoughts of how much surface area his palms cover racing through your mind. He kisses you all shy and hesitant at first, like he’s nervous he won’t do what you’re hoping.
His lips are warm, and you can feel the spots where he’s chewed them raw. You can’t help but think that kissing him might be a good way to break that habit. His nose presses into your cheek, tickling you and making you giggle.
Carmen pulls away, smiling at you. “What’s so funny?”
“Your nose was tickilin’ my cheek.”
“Oh? Like this?” He starts dragging his nose across your face and then down to your neck when he feels you start to laugh harder. He thinks he’s finally cracked the code. It seems like pasta and nose tickles are the proper way into your heart.
————
note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!
rb banner from @steph-speaks
#savannah’s fics#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto#carmy berzatto x you#carmy berzatto x fem!reader#carmy berzatto x female reader#carmy berzatto x y/n#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x you#carmen berzatto x female reader#carmen berzatto x fem!reader#carmy berzatto fluff#carmy berzatto fanfiction#carmy berzatto fic#carmen berzatto fic#carmen berzatto fluff#carmy x reader#carmy x you#carmy berzatto imagine#carmy the bear#carmy berzatto one shot
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Chapter 1 episode 5
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(special thanks to @bucket-of-cheese for this episode cover art!, as well as @karkatwaddles @chip-the-dip @scrambledlikeeggs @kairamuwu with editing)
---
Our favourites cross paths
CW: threats made with a weapon, mentions of injuries
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Time passes, though horribly slower in the desert heat.
Grian and Scar both spend their morning groggy and aching from the phantom fight the previous evening. Not to mention the little rest they were able to get during the relatively short night that this planet provides.
Now that they feel rested enough, Grian shoots up high above the canyon with a few strong beats of his wings. Scar watches him from the ground as he makes a few circles in the sky before he dives down back to join him. With a greater bearing on his surroundings, thanks to the high vantage point, Grian picks a direction that seems most prominent to head towards. He returns grumbling about how he could see something in the distance, but it looked like nothing more than a bunch of junk to him. Not much of the optimist it seems, but Scar prides himself on being able to make the most of any situation. He pats Grian's back, giving a small speech about how 'that a bunch of junk was better than nothing after all'. Grian blinks slowly, reluctantly agreeing. They have a destination now!
Grian consistently finds himself needing to catch up with Scar, occasionally mumbling about how the ground is too flat and something about bird feet. It’s obvious by how he’s fidgeting that he’d rather be flying, even though that option means either leaving Scar behind or carrying him there. And as much as Scar wants to ask, he’s also scared he might lose an eye as a result.
He leaves the slightly personal question unasked, the conversation instead being filled with Grian complaining about walking. He hesitates when their passage opens up to the blaring, exposed sun. Holding his hand up to shield himself from the harsh light, he scrunches his face, occasionally wincing when his hot metal limbs hit his skin with his heavy, tired steps.
Scar himself isn’t having much of a fun time either. The leg braces he uses aren’t meant to be put under a lot of strain for such a long time. It’s only a matter of time before they might snap. The grains of sand grating against them are probably hastening the unit's deterioration. He'll have to use Grian as support if they do break.. and go through the laborious task of requesting a new pair from the Vindicators.
Occasionally they have to take a break, with Scar trying to brush as much dust and sand from the joints of the braces, doing the most he can to slow down any decay it might have caused them. On the other hand, Grian uses the opportunity to rest, immediately slumping against the nearest wall and fanning himself with his tail.
Scar has long since taken off his jacket and tied it around his waist, relieved by the fact he'd been wearing a tank top underneath. The lack of sleeves feels like a world of difference in the heat, not that he wouldn't take it off completely if need be, despite his company. Every so often, he catches Grian's lingering looks when he thinks Scar isn't watching, his expression weirdly guarded and lost in thought. One time, when he notices he’s being examined, Scar flexes jokingly in response, receiving a roll of the eyes and quiet mutterings about indecency.
Despite how hot it is and how much his company seems to fidget and scratch at the uncomfortable feathers underneath, Grian seems insistent on keeping his layers on.
Finally, they reenter the shade, and the winged man groans, flinging around his stiff arms.
”What's wrong?” Scar turns around, watching as the strange man shakes out his feathers. Sand rains down as he does as if the sunlight has been caking him in the sand.
"I lost my helmet and, therefore, my visor. It sucks."
“Sucks how?"
"The light hurts my eyes." Grian rubs at his temples, scrunching his eyes closed.
Scar tilts his head in response, confused. It’s bright, not enough to be painful yet, but it’s clearly bothering Grian more somehow.
When he’s met with a lack of a retort, Grian glances up at Scar, quickly taking note of his confused expression. He rolls his eyes like he knows what Scar is thinking.
"I'm a glare," he says so simply, answering the unspoken question.
"Not… glare-leaning? Or an avian?" Scar, not so subtly, looks Grian up and down, the other tensing uncomfortably with a weird look to match.
"No."
"But…" Scar trails off, not quite being sure how to ask respectfully.
"I have wings?" Grian finishes for him, like he’s heard it all before. Tucking his wings behind his back on reflex, he takes in a deep breath, as if psyching himself up for a speech.
A series of looks flash across his face. Scar waits patiently, only for Grian to breathe out a quiet "Yeah," with no further elaboration.
"Glares can have wings?"
"This one can. It's complicated." Grian walks past Scar, losing eye contact deliberately as he strolls ahead. He doesn’t appear upset at least, bored is the closest to how Scar could describe it.
"But… How?" Scar asks cautiously, against his better judgment.
"Family curse from hitting a magical bird with a ship centuries ago." Grian holds his hands out, imitating piloting, before hitting his hands together with a metal clank. "BAM! Wings for all your firstborns."
"Wait, really?" Scar exclaims. Genuinely believing Grian’s story. He catches up to him with a quick jog, looking to the glare in an attempt to get a read of his face only to be met with a smirk. Oh.
"Nah-" Grian chuckles to himself, patting Scar on the shoulder.
Scar watches as he continues up ahead, looking at the feathered tail with a new perspective. A glare. That explains why his feathers look so real — they’re a feature all Glares possess to varying degrees – and his deep inky eyes that never seem to shrink, even in the harsh light. Maybe the wings are just artificial add-ons, but that doesn’t feel right — they’re far too realistic and fluid. He shakes the thought out of his head. It probably isn’t polite to dwell on it, the subject is obviously something Grian doesn’t want to talk about.
But no, Scar isn’t about to be done with this conversation completely.
"Prove you’re a glare, then."
Grian, who had walked slightly ahead, stops and turns around to give Scar an almost offended look before he shrugs, replacing it with an amused, yet tired one.
“Sure,” he says with a resigned sigh.
Without warning, everything in Scar’s sight goes dark, like an all-encompassing shadow out of nowhere, the murky nothingness only just reaching his toes. He sticks his hands out in front of him, looking at them as they become outlined by a dark void.
He knows what this is. Most glares possess this skill, it’s the baseline ability tied to their magic. ‘Darkness’ he thinks he remembers it being called. Scar has never experienced it first hand though, and he can’t help but ogle the slightly frightening power.
“Whoah-”
As quickly as it appeared, the gloom flees, leaving him with the less-than-friendly, hot reflective sands.
Grian looks at him curiously, his arms crossed.
“Okay, so believe me now?”
Scar smiles, nodding vigorously.
“That was sooo cool!!”
Grian very hesitantly smiles back, turning away before Scar can process it completely.
Despite his wary demeanour, he secretly revels in the reaction, not quite being able to help but grin to himself.
“Can you do illusion magic too?” Scar asks, making Grian's steps hesitate for just a second, the mood in the air changing quickly. His back is still facing Scar, but it doesn’t stop him from noticing the slight shudder in Grian’s shoulders, and the subtle flicks of his feathers.
“…No,” is all he says in slow response… too slowly.
Ah, so another sour subject, it feels like Scar is collecting them all. As much as he wants to pry, he feels like he has asked enough.
There’s a lapse in their conversation as Scar's eyes wander. They both continue walking, albeit slowly, probably due to Grian's obvious intent to savour the shade when passing through it.
"If the sun's bothering you that much, why don't you just do the darkness thing to yourself?" Scar inquires, filling the silence.
"That's not how it works. It's only a perception, I don't actually switch off the sun," Grian replies, his voice back with some light, the previous question forgotten.
"Oh."
"And trust me, oh how I want to switch off this sun." He holds his long claws up to the sky, imitating crushing the light that peeks from the shade touching the tips of his claws.
“I'll still get the painful headache even if I make everything dark for me.”
Scar glances down to his waist, where his own helmet has been clipped. He once again catches up to Grian, leg braces creaking slightly.
"… I could give you my helmet." He hands it to him.
Grian looks down at the poor thing with a gentle look on his face.
"It's got a huge crack in it, so it's pretty much useless. Sorry about that, by the way." He flicks a guilty look at Scar before settling back into stride ahead of him.
"I wouldn't call it useless-'' Scar looks down at it with a frown. He hopes he can repair it, it’s dear to him.
"Even if it wasn't, I would never put that thing on."
"What’s wrong with the cat ears?" Scar questions, a smile evident in his voice. He knows well that it isn’t his cute accessories that’s deterring Grian from putting the helmet on, he just thinks it’s amusing to indicate so.
He holds up the helmet up in front of Grian, closing one eye and envisioning him wearing it with a smirk.
Grian squawks out a laugh and pushes the helmet aside, "Hah. Ironically, I don’t have a problem with that, though I wouldn’t break the dress code just to put cat ears on a helmet."
"You know about the codes?"
"Sorta. I mean, I've unfortunately become very familiar with them – know your enemy or whatever."
"You really don't like vindicators, then," Scar says, with no malice in his voice. He’s more curious than anything.
"I feel like that much should be obvious."
Scar hops ahead of Grian, stepping slightly in front of him so that Grian has no choice but to look at him. "Well, I'm okay, right?" Scar smiles tilting his head.
He watches the bird’s gaze shift from the dust on Scar’s boots up to meet his eye, a brow raised.
And with a genuine smile and quiet laugh, Grian answers "Yeah, you're alright".
—
"Be careful they might be dangerous."
While navigating through a particularly maze-like part of the ravine. Grian had stopped abruptly, and grabbed Scar by the shirt mid-conversation, pulling him around a corner.
Scar attempted to ask what was wrong only for Grian to shush him, hissing about how he’d seen two figures deeper in.
Wiggling slightly out of Grian's hold, Scar popped his head around briefly, catching a glance at their new company.
There were, in fact, two figures who sat up against a stony wall as the passage opened up, connecting to another, larger passage. Scar and Grian had an advantage, as the corner shielded them from view. One figure had their back to them, their large silhouette obscuring the other figure from view. The only indication there was even two, being the distinct overlap of a conversation that could barely be heard from where Grian and Scar were hidden.
And that brings them to the present, with Scar tapping his chin, debating different ideas of how to approach them. Grian listens as he impatiently claws at the ground, grumbling at each suggestion that leaves the other's mouth.
There’s a quiet shift in the sand to Scar's side and he turns to watch as Grian shifts closer to him, his shoulders hunched slightly and wings puffed up.
Scar finds himself suppressing the urge to compare him to a pinecone.
"Why would they be dangerous?" Scar asks, tilting his head slightly. Confused about the other's comment.
Grian splutters, mouth working but not making noises aside from baffled squeaks before he eventually coughs.
"… I mean, I was a stranger a mere hours ago and I had a blade to your heart, dude." His voice pitches up at the end, causing him to flinch when it echoes slightly against the walls. He ducks as if that would stop the sound, scooting closer to Scar, further from the stranger's direction.
"….Well, you're not doing that right now." Scar smiles a wide grin, hushing his voice pointedly before shrugging.
Grian just stares at him, almost as if testing Scar’s smile, before he rolls his eyes and scoffs,
"… Can't argue with that logic."
Scar's smile grows slowly, bright and excited at Grian's agreement. He watches all of Grian's feathers stand up even more somehow, catching on to Scar's enthusiasm.
“Don't-”
"Glad you trust me!" Scar beams.
"I wouldn't go that far, trust is a strong word," Grian pulls a dubious look before grumbling and looking away. He shakes his shoulders as if trying to suppress the stress that’s putting him and his feathers on edge.
“I honestly don't think it's a good idea to even approach them– People are almost always bad news in these situations. We could just work our way around them…” he trails off mumbling to himself.
“But that's no fun!” Scar hums lightly, nudging the bird out of his strategizing. “Besides, they could help us!”
Grian doesn’t reply, just huffs with a scowl that squishes his face comically.
Scar absently scratches at his chin before he leans up against the wall pressing his forearm high above Grian, leaning over, the other doing a double take, clearly taken back by how much Scar is leaning over into his space. He'll have to put on his charm to try and convince the bird, his most effective tactic.
"You're nervous but I can assure you this, I can gain any advantage in a situation, just by talking" He gives him a cheesy lopsided grin.
"What- do you possess the ability to talk someone to death? Boredom? Into sleep, perhaps?" Grian replies in the most mocking and deadpan tone, meeting his energy.
"All of the above!!! Depending on the weather of course," He says, leaning in slightly with a whisper before bouncing back to that quietish tone of his, "and then I steal their stuff!!" Scar grins with more eagerness than Grian has seen in quite some time, causing the glare to let out a slight wheeze of laughter, raising an incredulous brow.
"Wow, you're really starting to sound more like a criminal." He veers his head to the side, grinning widely up at Scar, and bearing his sharp teeth.
Scar retracts his arm from the wall, an unsure look spoiling his smile. He can’t help darting his eyes to the side, almost taken aback by the former statement. "I mean … not if they're the bad guy, right?"
“That's a very rudimentary way of thinking.” Grian's grin falters slightly, that cold look flickering over him briefly, as his eyes narrow. He shakes away whatever thought he had, bringing the prior conversation back.
“Fine, you do you're talking thing then,” the bird swats at the air absently.
“And you'll be my hype man?” Scar bounces on his toes excitedly.
Grian gives too blank of an expression before pushing up his shoulders. “I'll do something,”
“AHA! Be amazed, small friend! At my infectious likeableness,” Scar stands up straighter and puffs out his chest, before moving to turn around the corner between them and the strangers only for sharp claws to gently grab his arm.
“Wait-”
“Oh oh! W-what?” Scar looks around shocked, but nothing is amiss, just the surprisingly warm touch of metal talons.
“You're intending to make a good impression, right?”
Scar splutters awkwardly as Grian doesn’t give him time to answer the obvious question.
“My advice? I'd hide that you're a Vindicator."
“…why?”
“Ah–” Grian awkwardly chuckles, retracting his grip and scratching at his head. “I thought I’d already established that the general public isn't too fond–” he loosely gestures Scar up and down.
Scar raises a brow, leaning on his hip and looking down at the bird. “Really? Are you the general public?” He smirks at his own witty remark.
“Just take my word for it, this definitely isn't Spawn, and I bet you haven't even travelled off planet before. You have that sparkly dumb innocent look in your eyes–”
Scar gasps and clutches his hand to his chest in false offence.
“I’m just saying, if you wanna do the whole friendly talking thing, I'd recommend not immediately making it known that you're a Vindicator.” Grian huffs.
Scar looks down dumbly at the bright blue jacket tied around his waist. Grian follows his line of sight and muffles a laugh, noticing Scar's mild panic at the glaring obvious beacon of his faction, taunting him along with a bright stitched ‘V’ clearly visible even with it tied at his waist.
“Just– turn it inside out or something–”
“Oh! Smart!” Scar claps his hands, wincing as the noise echoed against the walls. Grian glares at him.
He fumbles with the jacket, taking it off and turning it inside out before tying it back around his waist, and nodding with satisfaction. He looks back towards Grian, the glare watching him slightly amused. “Now, Bird friend, watch as I charm these members of the ‘general public’ with my insatiable charisma!”
“… You already said that. There's only so much ‘impressed’ I can hand out, I'm afraid.”
Scar ignores him as he brushes off as much dust as he can to look somewhat presentable. He leans forward with a step but stops as quickly as he started when his company doesn't make a move with him.
“You're not… coming with??”
“I am, I just want to linger back, for safety reasons– you know?” Grian still stands with his arms crossed but his face has morphed into something far more neutral, clawed feet firmly digging into their place in the sand.
“Oh! Smart!” Scar replies. He continues, but not before catching the faint flicker of a smile from his companion.
Scar confidently marches towards the strangers, too distracted by his plan to notice the quiet whoosh of feathers behind him.
“Why, hello there!”
“EEEEK!”
“OH MY GOSH–” both of the strangers scream at Scar, frantically scrambling back in the sand up to a stand.
The shorter one gawks at Scar, their left arm held stiffly as their right tugs on the other's sleeve pulling them both back further. They push themselves in front in an act that almost could have been intimidating if the other wasn't practically two times their size.
Now, up close, Scar takes the two in. The shorter one appears to be a blazeborn, fuzzy and yellow with clothes that looked like they weren't originally suited for the heat, evident by the thick winter coat tied around their waist, mirroring Scar’s, and the torn-off sleeves of their shirt. The other stands several heads taller, also strangely cradling their right arm. They’re far less identifiable, but the several neat feathers that frame their face and shoulders definitely imply that they’re probably at least glare adjacent, even with their height. They’re wearing what can be described as cowboy attire, sans a hat, and look far more in place in this setting.
“Oh, you're just a guy…” the taller one eventually speaks out after their initial panic.
“Yup, just a guy!” Scar stands up straighter, suppressing a wince as his leg braces squeak obnoxiously. “Sorry to cause a fright,” he smiles apologetically.
The two of them glance at each other, then back to Scar with bewildered expressions.
“I think I might be lost! And maybe you are too? We were wondering if you could help”.
“We?” One of them asks.
“OH! Well! I'm Scar and this here is my lackey.” He turns to look for Grian only to be met with the empty, dusty ground and no bird in sight.
“They're …not here?”
“Who-” Scar hears one of them ask. He doesn’t even have time to turn to identify who before a flurry of feathers swoops down and blocks his view.
The two figures scream for a second time as the taller one is pushed roughly aside by brown wings, falling clumsy in the sand and landing in a way that causes them to choke out a yelp.
“OW OW OW, I CAN'T SEE!” They sit up quickly with one arm hanging loosely over their chest, the other grasping and rubbing at their face and eyes in confusion. They continue to yell in panic, “WHAT HAPPENED I CAN'T SEE ANYTHING-”
“Drop whatever weapons you have,” Grian turns, holding the blaze in his grasp. He holds his wings wrapped around them, keeping their arms pinned. He uses one of his clawed hands to cover their mouth, the other holding a blue, glowing blade to their neck.
“What- what happened to the talking plan?” Scar sways on his feet. Too much is happening in such a brief moment, and all his plans for conversations are useless, blown to the wind.
“Too slow,” Grian replies bluntly.
The figure in Grian’s grasp desperately tries to muster out a muffled scream against Grian's hand, only causing the bird to tighten his hold and sword to their neck.
Scar feels lost. He looks to the other who is still on the ground, using one hand to touch the sand.
“I can't see!- It's all dark- Tango?!-”
The pure distress in their voices, mixed with the muffled yelping of the other, makes Scar falter, his mind short-circuiting in the chaos. He weirdly feels scared, that same fear of Grian and his cold look is all too familiar to barely a day ago. A fear that he apparently didn't realise still has a frightful hold on him, his shoulder pulsing passively with pain on cue with the memory.
Despite the fear, he can’t help but step forward, reaching out to diffuse the situation.
Strangely enough, Grian flinches back. He stares up at Scar like he had completely forgotten he was there, his confused look immediately being chased away as the trapped stranger shifts in his hold. His expression quickly returning to an unreadable one.
“Let them talk… maybe? Please?” Scar asks slowly. Grian looks up at him with those deep dark eyes, cold and empty before a nearly embarrassed look crosses his face. He lowers the hand that had held the stranger's mouth, but the blade, however, is still pinned to their throat.
Immediately the blaze gasps and begins yelling “Please we're injured, we mean no harm- please-”
“…. Huh,” Grian squeezes tighter subconsciously, as they kick in his grasp.
“Our arms- OW! QUIT IT- LET GO!”
They shove against Grian, his grip loosening just enough for them to push out as he moves his blade. All of a sudden the bird looks incredibly guilty.
“What the hell man!” The shorter man scrambles to their partner's side, leaning down and giving them their arm to grab onto. They keep their eyes on Grian, scowling as the other weakly uses their hold to stand up.
In an almost too cheery voice for the situation, the taller one speaks, “I can see again! What was that?”
Their gaze immediately lands on Grian, who tenses under it.
“You’re a bird?” They mutter dumbly after rubbing their eyes and squinting at him.
Grian steps back, still holding his weapon by his side. He gives the tall man a look up and down his expression twisting into something uncomfortable.
“Not one of yours,” he mumbles back.
“Sorry, sorry?” the taller coughs, completely confused, but Grian ignores them.
“You're hurt, both of you?” Grian hums, pointing the end of his sword in their direction as he makes a move to stand by Scar's side, who stands, silently wringing his hands, considering his next steps.
They both nod, fear and anger plain on their faces, each holding an arm tightly to their chests.
A quiet sort of relief washes over Grian as he puts away his sword. His expression morphing into amusement, with a tinge of sheepishness.
“Wow, that's inconvenient! You don't pose much of a threat then, huh?” He tries to joke and smile, the expression faulting only when their company makes no indication of finding that comment funny, at all.
Scar shifts awkwardly to his side, considering many different options on what to do next moves through his head before he steps in front of Grian, a goofy grin being plastered across his lips.
“So… maybe we should start over?”
“You think?” The blaze spits, their shimmering flame-like hair sparking in reaction.
“We were only taking precautions, there are dangerous people in this big universe, you know!” Scar tries to lessen the anger with that same cheesy grin.
“I'd argue, you're one of them! Or at least they are,” They point towards the bird, who does nothing but look away, crossing his arms.
“Just a common misunderstanding, we apologise. Let me reintroduce myself-” Scar tries to step forward with a handshake, but both of them move away from him pointedly. Instead, he retreats to Grian’s side, putting his hands up defensively, giving them more space to feel safe.
“Well, I'm Scar! Like I- already mentioned-” he nervously chuckles the last bit, then gestures to the glare. “-and this is Grian”
“Ah, so we're giving them our names- cool,” the other grumbles, his back practically turned to them, appearing like he’s given up on the exchange.
A tense atmosphere falls heavily on the four as awkward silence fills the air. Scar's eyes glance to the taller of the duo, who meets his gaze with a similar, nervous expression, unlike the blazeborn who stands next to them, festering with an anger that seems to almost crackle off of them in flames.
The tall one eventually finds the courage to speak, unsure and hesitant, without the anger and murderous look that their companion seems to have.
"Well, I'm Jimmy! And this is Tango!" Jimmy speaks with a similar cheer and charisma to Scar.
"Yup," the blaze, Tango, snaps with a slight snarl on his lips. His injured arm tightly held against his body, crossing over his chest as he stares daggers in the direction of Scar and Grian. There’s another pause of quiet that only causes the air to grow more uneasy, so thick with awkwardness that it can be cut with a knife. Tango and Grian stand their ground while Jimmy begins to kick at the sand absent-mindedly and an awkward cough escapes from Scar.
The former can't help but wring his hands once again, standing unsure in the moment before he decides to speak once again, "You seem tense,"
"YOU THINK?" Tango barks out, that snarl only growing angrier as he drops his hand to his side and balls it into raging fists.
Jimmy quickly tries to hop to some sort of defence, "We haven't seen anybody yet- we didn't really expect anyone to-" he’s cut off by Tango's eyes whipping over to look at him, the blazeborn pointing a finger to his neck,
"A KNIFE. TO MY THROAT." He speaks loud and clear making it obvious, if anyone can't tell, why he’s angry.
At that, Grian turns to the conversation, his tail flicking behind him. “Ah- Well, I didn't break your skin and, you know, I apologised.”
“Actually, you haven’t-” Jimmy points out, frowning.
“Oh… sorry?” Grian shrugs.
“I already dislike you-”
He ignores Jimmy turning to Scar with a neutral expression, “Right, Scar, ready to go?“
“What?”
“YOU'RE GOING TO JUST LEAVE US?” Jimmy shouts whilst Tango just looks unsurprised.
“Well, you're both injured so-” Grian says nonchalantly, not bothering to finish his sentence like it’s obvious.
“THAT'S CRIMINAL-” Jimmy squawkes.
Grian doesn’t reply, instead, lightly reaching for Scar, a weird sort of hesitance to his grasp, looking as if he’s going to grab Scar's arm, only to move to pull at his shirt. Scar doesn't move.
“We could- help them?”
Grian looks at him with a troubled look but doesn't say anything in response.
“You know?” He, in fact, makes no indication of knowing. “We have medical supplies, remember?”
Tango's eyebrow shoots up, his angry scowl morphing into intrigue. “Healing?”
“SCAR- Cool now they know our names and our resources-” the bird grumbles, Eying the two with a cold glare. He crunches up his nose, then looks back to Scar. “We're not giving them anything for free.”
“…Well I mean, we could always offer a trade.” Scar tries to smile, trying his best to appeal to Grian with a warm grin.
Grian takes in a deep breath, contemplating for a couple of seconds before he points at the strangers and clicks his tongue. “What do you two have to offer?”
“Do you have an ender chest?” Scar pipes in quickly.
“…No.”
“We don't really have anything-”
Grian hums in acknowledgement then smirks at Scar. “There you go, shall we leave then-”
Tango interrupts quickly as the winged man once again tries to pull Scar away. “We have some knowledge! You said you’re lost! I know some things to help! About this game-”
“Game?” Scar repeats.
“No thank you-” Grian now switches from pulling at Scar to pushing him.
“But aren't you curious? We have theories!”
“All good, we have our own plans, thank you.” He huffs in an effort to try and move Scar, but for once Scar has an advantage over him in height and strength. He barely moves.
“Okay! Deal!” Scar finally replies.
“SCAR!” Grian stops pushing Scar, instead staring at him like an angry feathered hedgehog. It takes all of Scar’s willpower not to laugh at him.
“We'll only tell you anything once you heal us,” Tango adds.
“Hah! As if that wasn't already a bad deal-” Grian mumbles mostly to himself.
“-What about during?”
“Okay, during.” Tango agrees to Scar.
Grian finally acknowledges the blaze, as he holds a hand to his chest and baps at Scar with the other. He scowles between them all. “Hey, hey. I'm the one with the supplies, you should be negotiating with me-”
He cuts himself off at the look Scar gives him. His lips press into a tight frown as he crosses his arms and taps his claws, the processing of his thoughts buried deep in his brow.
Scar tilts his head at him slightly.
“Ugh fine,” Grian finally relents, before huffing off to the side and making an upset display of sitting down and disrupting the dusty sand with a flap of his wings, the others coughing slightly.
“Well, what are you waiting for? Take a seat. Let me heal your stupid bones,” he finally spits when the others don’t make any motion, prompting the pair to finally move.
“Oh, it's really rich of you to think I'd let you get anywhere near to my arm again-” Tango replies, unamused.
“Well you're going to just have to deal with it,” Grian replies to Tango with a sardonic grin, “These are my supplies and I'd like to keep some autonomy in this situation.”
“If it makes you feel any better he healed me pretty well,” Scar chimes in, pulling his tank top aside, to show off the slightly bloody gauze. Tango scrutinises the wound, hissing sympathetically, looking towards Grian who’s trying and failing to look not guilty.
“… I suppose.” Jimmy hums, next to Tango.
Both he and Tango awkwardly shuffle towards the winged man, within arms reach of each other, they sit down in unison, Tango’s tail hooking onto Jimmy's ankle.
“You! Beanpole! Give me your arm” Grian moves closer, sitting up on his knees.
“Me?” Jimmy replies confused.
“Yes you, I don't see any actual bean poles around here do you? I'm talking to your daft mug.”
“You don't have to insult me so much, man-” Jimmy grumbles as he complies, as Grian makes a start on assessing his injuries.
There’s a couple of minutes of uncomfortable quiet, occasionally interrupted by grumbles and yelps. Scar stands, watching his company. He looks towards Tango, who it keeping a calculated watch on what Grian is doing.
“You didn't expect to be here…” Scar slowly sits in front of Tango. His eyes bright with intrigue.
Tango just turns to look at him confused. “What?”
“Those clothes-” Scar points at the thick coat, cushioning the blaze as he sits crossed-legged.
“Oh! OH, that's actually pretty intuitive.” He smiles at Scar and scoots closer indicating for him to listen.
“Yeah I'm not from here, I was working on a pretty cold planet, before …uh.”
“Waking up with no memories of how you got here?” Scar finishes, beaming.
Tango leans back, his grin faltering slightly. “…Yeah.”
“How'd you know that!?” Jimmy asks from behind them, apparently having been listening in.
“We're the same! Actually! We don't remember at all how we got here.”
“Even him?” Tango gestures coldly over his shoulders, not even looking in Grian's direction.
“Even him!”
“Interesting,” Tango appears to drift into his thoughts before Grian coughs loudly.
“Alright then, if you want me to do this, well, you better start to tell your story.”
Tango shoots him an angry look, then dusts off his trousers before sitting up straight, getting comfortable. He looks at Scar, coughs, and smiles.
“Well, first you gotta know some of my history.”
Scar watches Grian roll his eyes from over Tango's shoulder.
“I worked as… hmmm sorta freelance. I'm an architect, redstoner- weird lil’ guy with a nac for bizarre contraptions. I take all and any kind of jobs I can find across the universe, a travelling mechanic if you will,” Tango grins, pleased. “I'm actually- saving up so I can own a hermit settlement, start a small self-sustaining industry, build all kinds of wacky farms! Just work for me, you know?”
He pauses, waiting for a response only to be met with puzzled looks.
“Uhhh that's beside the point. What I’m getting at is that owning the land to make a hermit settlement is a lot of money and prep. And as it goes, the jobs that pay the most tend to be the most…. questionable. I like to believe I'm a good judge of character when it comes to my clients, I know when the people who are giving me a tempting offer are bad news, and I usually decline. I'm not about putting myself in trouble for a pretty price.”
Tango inhales, his thumb worrying over his knuckle, and continues.
“But there was this one job- These very mysterious individuals offered me a job to create a game! It honestly was a very tempting offer, because they were giving me so much free range with what I built. The only requirement was that any number of people could enter the game and there could only be one winner. And they offered me a lot of money for it.”
Scar clocks Grian making a small sneer.
“So I took it, I took the deal and started designing my game. I uhhh- I sort of made, think like… dungeon crawler type deal.”
“Wait but you said you didn't make dungeons,” Jimmy interrupts.
“Going to be honest, I didn't expect you to hit that nail on the head.” Tango turns to Jimmy, giving him a small smile, before patting him gently on his shoulder. “Pretty impressive.”
Jimmy splutters, his expressions flip flopping between being offended and proud.
“Anyway… as I was saying, the more I worked for them, the more I started to suspect a few things. They kept insisting on things in my design to be more…”
He swirled his hand around “Let's say lethal. And that was before I started noticing how much resources and wealth my employer owned. They kept giving me things with ease, I started even asking for stuff I knew was hard to find like enchantments and whatnot. And they didn't even sweat.”
He cuts himself off, a conflicted look shadowing his face.
“When I put my energy into a project, I put my whole heart in. This dungeon was my… my child! I’d been working on it for months! Almost years! I didn't like how they were twisting it. They kept taking away the things I included to make the game fair. And that was my last straw.”
“I ran, and I tried to take all the important endgame design prints with me. I couldn't let them use my work to hurt people in the gruesome ways that they so clearly wanted to do. And now I'm here.”
“…Oh, that's rough,” Scar replies.
Nodding Tango stares down at his lap, rubbing at the worn pads of his hands. He looks genuinely sad for a minute before he shakes that look away and carries on.
“Yeah, so what I'm saying is- I got to see enough of the kind of work these people were doing to notice a pattern.”
“The people I worked for were definitely Enders, and I believe they're probably pretty high up considering rather than taking planets and trading pearls, they were employing people to take their enemies and put them into ‘games' for their entertainment.”
“And I think we're in one of those games right now,”
Tango grins wildly, holding a finger up to emphasise his conclusion.
“WHOA, what really?”
“Ugh,” Grian grumbles.
“And if my assumption is correct, I think we've all wronged an Ender before, right?”
He shuffles so that all four of them were sat in a circle.
“I mean- me! Clearly, with leaving the job.” He points to himself and then to Jimmy. “You said something about Enders secretly operating in the town you were sheriffing.”
Grian’s gloomy expression immediately gets replaced with intrigue as he looks up from his lap for the first time during the conversation with Jimmy.
“You're a sheriff?” Scar asks.
“YES, I am for a matter of fact, from a small town on the Nether.” Jimmy smiles widely, adjusting his hair confidently.
“Now that's surprising…” Grian remarks to himself.
Jimmy either doesn't hear or ignores him as he continues. “Well it's more a self-proclaimed title, not much goes on in my town and I mostly just… give directions to the elderly and get bullied by local kids,”
“Nevermind.”
Jimmy shoots Grian a dirty look, the latter smirking back before he goes back to working on the supplies in his lap.
“But yes! Recently I tried to uncover a mystery and encountered Enders,”
“And that's the last thing you remember doing right?” Tango inquires.
“… Yeah, actually.”
He looks towards Scar “And you… what about you?”
“Oh.”
Everyone looks at Scar with intrigue. Grian has his head dipped down still, his gaze, though, points, staring straight at him.
Ah, right, not-a-Vindicator time.
“Well, I'm a mayor, as a matter of fact.”
Everyone looks at him like it was the last thing they expected him to say, including Grian.
Scar coughs, chasing off the nervous wobble in his voice and he sits up straight ready to prove his charm.
“For a pretty unknown-” Scar awkwardly trails off, not really familiar enough with space life for his own lie. “…hermit settlement! A beloved staple of the community, birds and children sing when I roam the streets.”
The others look at him speechless, he can feel them doubting him. Alright then, maybe he should learn to be more believable.
“The last thing I remember doing, actually, was chasing a criminal down an alley!” He settles on. He sees Grian go still. “It was epic and had glorious explosions and everything, a truly action-filled adventure-”
He stops when he feels Grian subtly thump him with his tail. Hiding the movement by sitting up, done with dressing Jimmy's wounds and moving on to Tango.
Tango ignores him, too interested in Scar’s story. “Was this criminal an Ender by chance?”
“Oh! Yes!” He very almost forgot that was what Tango was asking to begin with.
Tango sits up straighter with a look of triumph and excitement on his face.“That makes three out of four.”
“…Not a chance,” Grian says coldly.
Tango finally turns to him, Grian looking up whilst sorting out the supplies he has left.
“What?”
“I'm not telling you my story like we're all sat around a campfire-”
“We're trying to help, isn't that what you asked for?” Tango argues.
“This isn't helpful information, it's just a lot of assumptions and guesses.”
“Calculated guesses! And besides, what else could you possibly know about what's going on? Enlighten me,” Tango challenges him.
“I don't… but I also don't see how knowing all this even helps us in our current situation.”
Grian leans back from where he had been hunched over, closes his eyes, and flings his hand around in an almost smug way. “Yada yada, scary rich people put a bunch of losers into a death game. That doesn't help me whilst we're supposedly in one.”
“You find yourself in a lot of death games then?” Tango grins bitterly.
“I- '' Somehow that waveres Grian’s response briefly, he clears his throat before resuming. “I like information that helps. This doesn't- this doesn't fix a broken arm or get us any closer to escaping.”
“Well maybe it can- we can go ahead knowing that there's probably traps or trials set for us.” Scar says. The two look at Jimmy and Scar who had been quietly observing their conversation.
“Like the beeping!” Jimmy responds.
“Yeah-”
“OH, THE PHANTOMS!” Scar exclaims.
“Phantoms?”
Scar wiggles in the dust with delight. “Yeah! We encountered phantoms on our journey, which is a pretty odd place to find them,”
“Stole my helmet,” Grian grumbles, less happy.
“Yeah… they were definitely placed here intentionally, we almost got killed by them!” Scar exclaims. He sits up straighter and puffs out his chest. “But I fought them off valiantly.”
Tango and Jimmy share a doubtful look.
“And what about you two- did you guys encounter anything strange?” Scar claps his hands together, intrigued.
Grian rests on his arm and gestures loosely to them. “Strange enough to break both your arms?”
At that both Jimmy and Tango look at each other, coming to a realisation that makes them both grin wildly at each other.
“OH and THAT'S another thing,” Jimmy says far too gleefully.
“The game makers must have included this other mechanic to make it difficult for us!” Tango injects, matching his energy. He and Jimmy talk in slightly hushed yet excited voices to one another, Tango playfully pushing at Jimmy and whispering something about how it all made sense now.
Scar and Grian just blink blankly, clearly missing something. When neither of the two gives them context, instead excitedly making noises at each other over a discovery, Scar coughs.
“What mechanic?” He leans closer, curiously.
“We are linked! Somehow!” Jimmy exclaims loudly.
“It's probably a curse and enchantment related. But we feel and suffer the same wounds, hence… broken arms'' Tango adds.
“So you both broke your arm?” Scar hums still confused.
“No no just Jimmy, he fell.”
“Gracefully!” Jimmy interrupts with too much enthusiasm.
“Gracefully… from the top of the ravine. I was just walking nearby and received the injury too,” Tango sits back a little and loosely holds up his injured arm.
Scar hums to himself, gaze jumping between his company and their injuries. “So it's a proximity thing?”
Tango sits up fast with a gasp of excitement. “That's a good point! I don't know.”
He leans forward cautiously, still holding his bad arm to his chest as he beckons Scar to come closer.
Both Jimmy and Grian look at each other confused before Tango flicks Scar hard on the nose. Causing him to make a startled yelp noise.
With how they lean over, neither manages to notice as Grian also flinches, hand briefly touching his own nose, before he notices Jimmy watching him and stops.
“Nope didn't feel that,” Tango says, veering back to his previously comfortable position.
Scar reclines back too, leg braces creaking slightly as he rubs his nose and makes a small sad noise.
“Did you?” Tango turns to Jimmy who’s looking weirdly at Grian.
Tango nudges him, the taller shaking out of whatever thought he was having.
“Oh- no I didn't.”
He looks back to Grian who’s in the process of not so subtly shifting further from the others.
“Maybe… Are you two together?” Jimmy prompts, pinning Grian specifically with a look.
Obliviously, Scar says, “We just met,” still holding his nose.
“No, he meant the weird pain link thing,” Tango responds with a slight laugh.
“Oh!! Hold on-” Scar excitedly lifts his head up, his sore nose quickly forgotten. He turns to Grian who had been trying his best to not be noticed the whole exchange.
Moving too fast and suddenly, Scar goes to pinch his arm, only to hit his hand against metal. The realisation hits him dumbly, but not before he watches Grian cry out and pull back fearfully with an expression Scar doesn’t think he's ever seen on the man's face before.
Grian regains his composure quicker than Scar. He shakes off the scared look on his face but keeps his arms held close to his chest protectively.
Scar goes to apologise but Grian's voice interprets him. His attention directed away from Scar.
“No, we're not linked.”
Tango shrugs, titling his head at Jimmy and smiling.
“Well, maybe it's a thing specific to us,”
Jimmy pulls a slightly unconvinced face before agreeing. “Yeah probably.”
Grian finishes patching up Tango, ignoring the three as they descend into rambles and theories about it all.
He packs away his remaining supplies, looking pleased with his two patients' bandaged and slung arms, even as they pay him no mind.
He stands up, Scar is the first to look at him with a questioning expression.
“Welp! Considering I'm done… and you've given your less-than-useful information, I think it's our time to leave,” Grian brushes the dust off his trousers and holds out a hand for Scar.
“Scar?”
Scar doesn't move, he looks at the others and back to Grian, a guilty look on his face. “I actually think we should all stick together–”
Grian doesn't respond, instead pulling his hand away slowly. Scar continues.
“There’s clearly something much bigger going on here and I think teaming up is a safer option,”
The bird remains silent, his feathers betraying his blank face as they all pin. He blinks at Scar.
“I agree,” Jimmy speaks up awkwardly after a prolonged quiet.
Tango grins. “You're more than free to go off on your own,” he says snidely.
“Ah, well…” Scar splutters, standing up and holding his hands out, that's not what he meant at all, but Grian beats him to a response.
“No.”
“Wow… what a change of heart, you're scared of being alone?” Tango teases.
Grian pays no mind to the comments, his hurt look settling on Scar instead.
“Scar please, I can protect us both we don't need…” he loses his confidence, the end of his sentence teetering off.
Scar lets his arms hang at his side, as he looks at Tango and Jimmy, still sitting by each other's side. Now with both their arms in slings and, despite Tango's intimating expression, looking slightly pathetic in the hot sun.
“… they're hurting, Grian, I need to help,” he gives Grian a pleading look.
The glare stares at Scar, he seems to take in all of him, annoyed and confused. When suddenly, a brief flicker of understanding fills his features.
“… Grian?” Grian doesn’t look at him, instead, he stares at the dust to his side. Tail flicking at his side in frustration.
“I'm not leaving you,” he says simply. Refusing to elaborate.
A small part of Scar is surprised by Grian's response, his weird protectiveness over Scar, especially in context to how he’d acted towards the others. Scar can’t help but smile softly, even if Grian isn’t looking at him.
“So you'll agree to be a group?”
The bird turns to him with a hard look on his face, a disruption on his tongue before he cuts himself off, face flushing red when he realises Scar is smiling at him with a completely different energy. He bows his head slightly. “I'm staying with you, but I do not trust them.”
—
Scar sits down, explaining their travel plan, which honestly wasn't much since all they had done was travel in the direction of supposed man-made structures that had been spotted, hoping to not die in the process.
Grian positions himself slightly behind Scar as they all start laying out all their possessions. Comparing their resources with each other.
Out of everyone, Jimmy still has the most on him, carrying one container of water, which he apparently had forgotten about, he lets Grian and Scar take a swig, Tango insisting he doesn’t need it as much with being a blaze. They also have Grian's healing supplies, which at this point aren't very much, just a few alcohol wipes and gauze. Then also some dried meat Jimmy had and one package of dried cat treats that Scar had been carrying, and no one seems stoked about potentially eating.
Besides that, all they have is some random useless items in people’s pockets, all laid out in front of them. Anxious, taking in the unfortunate sight of what they have to survive on. Scar sits on his knees, ignoring how the braces creak as he leans on them.
Tango is watching Grian closely, mumbling under his voice like he’s trying to get Grian's attention, but the latter knows and deliberately ignores him.
Tango finally clears his throat and speaks up, tapping the sand in front of Grian to ensure he has his attention. “You have your weapon with you,” he says like it isn’t a question.
“Yes.” Grian doesn’t look at him, instead rewrapping a rope they had found in one of Jimmy's pockets. The rope rings slightly against his metal digits as he pulls the thread between them.
“So we all have our comms, storage, and defensive tools missing except for you,” Tango states snarkily.
“Well, I also have my comms and other stuff missing. Guess they accidentally skipped out on the knife.”
“How convenient for you,”
Grian deliberately disregards Tango's biting word, looking up at the other two. “We might have enough for a day or two more of travel? Could even hunt along the way… if there are even any animals.”
“The knife will be handy then.” Scar tries, looking at Tango with a cheery smile.
“Could also… maybe… find plants?” Jimmy says, They all look around at the dry, sandy landscape, only occupied by the occasional dead shrub, with dismay.
“How much collective knowledge do we have with foraging?”
“I used to be a baker!” Scar interjects excitedly.
“Cool!- But I don't see any flour or water, don't know how that's going to help us in this situation, bud,” Grian pats Scar on the back.
“Unless you are secretly an enderian and can just … teleport bread to us or something,” Tango adds jokingly.
“I'm not-”
“Are you?” Grian cuts in, the others realising quickly that he’s addressing Jimmy with a weird look.
Jimmy looks up confused, apparently not paying attention to where the conversation had drifted. “What?”
“You’re very tall… thought maybe-”
“Oh no, I'm a glare!” he replies.
Grian goes strangely still, that cold look filling his face. He looks like he wants to say something, but chooses against it, going back to meaninglessly fiddling with a rope.
“Well, it would have been super convenient to be an enderian with y’know …the lack of water,” Tango hums next to Jimmy.
“It might rain!” Jimmy notes gleefully.
“Rain? Here?”
“I mean maybe? These kinds of canyons get formed by water, so there's a real chance a flash flood might happen!” At the last statement, he looks nervous. ”Which depending on where we are, could help us or … be bad.”
“How do you know that?” Tango looks up at Jimmy with a gleam of curiosity.
“Well I get bored, and there's this neat little library in the Nether with a lot of unique landscapes and… “
Jimmy and Tango titter off into their own conversation about various formations of rocks and caverns in desert-like terrain. Scar's mind drifts aside as he watches billows of sand blow above them on the top of the ravine. He catches movement out the sides of his eye as Grian shifts.
The sun has moved more in the sky, the shade they had hidden in changing direction. The hot sun finally reaching them, first hitting the feathers on the Grian tail. He must have just noticed as he pushes himself away from it, a scowl on his face while he creeps away and bumps into Scar in the process.
They look up at each other, Grian jumping slightly when he notices he’s being watched, his ears pulling back as he looks away.
“We should get going. You guys rested enough?” He cuts the other two off, Tango drawing in the sand with his claws with Jimmy instructing him.
“Oh sure-” Jimmy replies. He stands, using his large tail to help push him up, before lending a hand to Tango.
Grian stumbles up into a stand on the sandy ground, hissing to himself and mumbling something along the lines of “dumb bird feet”. He looks at Scar who changed to sit with his legs in front of him, inspecting his leg braces and sighing.
“Those aren't meant for the desert, are they?” He holds out a hand which Scar takes, pulling himself to stand.
“Nope! Not really, more like indoor use.”
Grian frowns, opening his mouth to say something, but Tango cuts him off.
“Actually…” The blaze moves towards them, holding a hand behind his back, a snarky look crossing his face.
His gaze is glued directly on Grian as he pulls his uninjured hand out, holding it towards them. Grian's hands are still in Scar’s, he feels Grian's grip tighten subconsciously before he pulls his hand away in favour of crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Tango.
“You want this temporary alliance to go well right?”
“I mean… it would be convenient,” Grian frowns, confused about where Tango is going with this.
“Give me your knife,” Tango flicks his claws beckoning.
“… What?”
“I feel like it's very justified.”
“I'm not giving you my weapon,” Grian snaps, his hand moving to his side subconsciously.
Tango pulls his arm back, crossing it over with the other. “I still don't trust you, our minds would be more at ease if you didn't have that.” He looks up to Jimmy who’s looking over his shoulder, nodding slightly.
Scar looks at Grian whose back is turned to him, but regardless he can see the anger physically welling up, as his feathers stand up and his tail starts to flick back and forth. His claws hovering right above where the blade sits, ready.
“HAH, what do you think I care, there is no way I'd give it to you.” Grian spits.
Scar hears him take in a deep breath, sensing the start of something terrible happening. He takes a slightly stumbling step between them.
“I could take it,” Scar says simply. Both of them look up at him.
“I mean- you both seem to trust me more, so maybe I could carry it for now?” Scar tries, putting on his most easygoing smile. Tango's frown softens slightly, but that isn't who Scar is worried about most. The bird is now looking at him, a lot less spiked up with his mouth slightly open, his eyes searching Scar for something. He looks back to Tango, who just nods to Scar.
“Fine.”
Almost everyone lets out a breath of relief.
Grian pulls out his weapon, quickly, and grins to himself as he watches Jimmy and Tango flinch.
He hands it to Scar and gives him a weird look only he can see before his face morphs into a generally upset pout. Striding past them all, he barks “Follow,” and doesn't wait for them to catch up.
Scar looks at the weapon in his hands, remembering its hold before wedging it into his belt.
—
They continue with their walking, Grian at the front out of frustration over the loss of his weapons. Tango's prying eyes watch him from behind, insisting on being on the lookout for any funny behaviour.
The mood is off. Tango and Grian holding their weird rivalry and Jimmy and Scar lagging behind, looking at each other confused but not quite wanting to start small talk out of fear of getting on the other two nerves. They both opt instead to stare at the ground and savour as much of the shade as they can.
Tango is the first to break the silence.
“I don't think I trust you.”
He has his head facing forward, the anger in his voice enough to indicate he’s talking to Grian.
“I bet you’re one of them.”
“Them?” Grian almost laughs.
“Explains why you have your weapon and not us, why you're so reluctant to share why you might be here. And don't even think I forgot about your oh-so-welcoming greeting,” Tango responds with no amusement in his voice.
“What is your problem with me?”
“I think you're an Ender, a man from the inside sent down to watch us.” He says simply, pushing up his shoulders.
Grian snorts, drawing out his words. “Literally all you have against me is that I have a weapon and I’m a bit of an introvert, that's barely anything,”
“That's not all I have. What about your wings?”
The mood changes instantly, from bickering to an icy, quiet cold.
With that Scar finally looks up at the conversation, they have since all slowed down from walking to a standstill. Grian being the one to stop first as he scowls in Tango's direction.
He doesn't say a word. Tango continues with a malicious look on his face.
“And the arms, they're enchanted, right? I can basically smell it from here. You don't come across enchantments like that in the wild. And that's not even mentioning the level of skill that must have gone into those base robotics, for some random stranger– You'd have to be a part of a pretty powerful faction to get robotics like those and I definitely doubt you're a Vindicator.”
Scar watches Grian flash him a very brief glance at that name. Tango continues unaware.
“I've been around Ender technology enough to recognize its signatures, I used to work with it-”
“You don't know what you're talking about,” Grian cuts in coldly with a flat tone.
“I think I do.” Tango challenges, bearing his sharp teeth.
“Hey, hey, what about we uhh, calm down a bit?” Scar interrupts, shrugging his shoulders slightly with an open demeanour.
Tango's wild gaze jumps to him and sticks.
“I think you guys might have all come off on the wrong foot! Ahah,” Scar laughs painedly.
He stalls slightly, almost feeling the heat from Tango start to concentrate on him instead.
“I promise you, Grian is not as stabby as he seems.”
“Oh yeah?” Tango responds incredulously. “Is that why you have a stab wound on your shoulder?” He jabs his finger in the direction of Scar's shoulder, the gauze and tank top stained lightly red.
Scar shoots Grian a look, the other's eyes blown slightly more wide knowingly.
“…Unrelated circumstances,” Scar says simply.
Tango steps closer to Scar, causing him to stumble back slightly, Jimmy awkwardly drifting over his shoulder placing a hesitant hand on his shoulder briefly. “Why are you even sticking up for this guy? Didn't you say you only just met?” Tango all but growls at Scar.
“Well… We're friends.”
“No, there's something else. Something you're not telling us,”
Scar's mouth finds itself ajar, as he tries to think of what to say. Grian is painfully quiet over his shoulder.
Tango takes another step towards Scar, his mind spinning trying to figure out a believable story.
“…We made a deal!” He settles on.
“A deal?” That seems to genuinely take Tango by surprise, his imposing façade faltering.
“Yeah.”
Tango pulls a weird expression before it changes quickly as if struck by an idea. “If you made a deal maybe we could fulfil it instead, then we won't need this guy. I have the contacts, I know my loopholes. If this deal is so much more important, that you'd associate with this guy then choose what I can offer you instead. What even would it be? to you to find yourself associated with someone like him? What was it?”
“I-…” Scar hesitates and turns his gaze to where Grian is standing. The three of them have moved a considerable distance away from him during their argument, but he still stands within audible range, watching quietly.
The bird looks uncomfortable and small, he thinks. His feathers pinning and fingers flicking at his side, right where his blade would have been.
His expression looks complicated, Scar observes, like he’s expecting this situation but still feels a sense of hurt or pain. Weirdly, his gaze is fixed on the blaze rather than Scar, but he can see him fidget and glare as if he knows he’s being looked at, trying his best to avoid eye contact.
Tango coughs shuffling forward in the sand to bring Scar's attention back to him.
Scar had almost forgotten what they had asked. The deal. He wants to know what their deal was. Technically the deal wasn't even that specific, it’s just protection. That's all Grian had promised and even with a weapon, which he no longer had, in comparison to both Tango and Jimmy his usefulness might be matched.
Grian's expression makes sense now, he’s fully expecting Scar to take this deal.
Scar looks back at Grian, catching him looking at Scar before he darts his eyes away.
He doesn’t like this. He doesn’t understand why Tango is so hostile, it feels unjustified. Like he’s missing something, which is impossible. He's known Grian longer than Tango. Grian is barely a threat, yeah awkward, maybe a little impulsive and snide. But Scar doesn’t believe that justifies leaving him behind. Why is there so much bitterness between his newly acquainted companions? Why is Tango so insistent on Grian being a bad person? These questions circle around in Scar's head as he tries to think of some way he can defend Grian.
“We were going to start up a very specific business.” Scar grins.
“… What?”
“Trading goods. See, I need him because he’s got those fancy wings,” he gestures towards Grian, who’s badly concealing his bewilderment, his mouth hanging open ever so slightly, no sound escaping.
“What are you trading?”
Scar mulls it over before looking at the ground and shrugging. “….sand.”
Despite everything, Grian laughs at that. Coughing and suppressing giggles when the blazeborn shoots him a look.
“Sand?” Jimmy almost yells.
Tango taps at his chin in thought. “I- I mean I could maybe…”
Scar interrupts him. “No no no, I'm a dignified salesman. I made a deal and stayed true to my word. I'm sorry but I'll have to decline the offer,” he replies with an easy-going demeanour.
“We're now a package deal now,” he walks up to stand by Grian's side, patting his shoulder roughly.
Grian's only response is to make an awkward noise and to lean away from Scar, but not enough to actually break the space they share.
Tango looks at them both, an angry look directed at the two. Suddenly, Jimmy places a hand on his shoulder.
“I think we should just play along, even if we're suspicious of someone. I think we need all the help we can get.” The taller man says down to him, smiling slightly.
Tango takes in Jimmy's look, his frown smoothing out for a brief second before he looks back at Scar.
“Maybe I don't trust you now Scar, you've clearly also got secrets you're not telling us,”
“You're getting too caught up on secrets and mysteries, and supposed ‘them’s,” Scar puts on a wide smile, waving at the air with a nonchalant attitude.
“How about… G!” He slings his arm around Grian and pushes him in closer to the other two, while the bird sputters slightly at the new nickname.
“Promise you won't stab any of us in the back until we're free from this …game?” Scar holds him by his shoulders. Grian flinches slightly as he tries to look up at Scar only to get a face full of sun. The glare looks back at the other two, not saying a word, his ears flicking absently.
“Grian!” Scar nudges him.
“Yes, sure,” he says flatly. He crosses his arms. “I promise.”
Scar beams, looking at Tango and Jimmy. “Annddddd do you guys promise not to belittle my friend here for being a bit creepy?”
The both of them hesitate, looking up at each other, exchanging looks.
“I feel creepy is an understatement…” Tango scoffs.
“We promise,” Jimmy says at the same time.
Scar claps his hands together, Grian flinching and holding his ears at the noise. “See! Solved! We're now a team!”
No one celebrates, they all look at each other with uncomfortable hesitation, not at all meeting Scar's enthusiasm. He hops on his toes, ushering the others forward, getting them to start walking again.
“Team… yellow.” Scar looks around at his company, all pulling different forms of confused faces. “Why are you all blond?”
—
After several hours of walking, the sun had begun to dip over the horizon. They were all able to confirm the revelation that this planet has a pretty short day cycle.
The journey had been painfully awkward. Tango and Jimmy spent most of it talking between themselves, sometimes hushed, which Grian pretended not to notice. He’d closed off slightly despite Scar trying to start a conversation with him several times. It was a stark contrast to how they were in the morning. Scar missed their smallest interactions deeply.
At one point Tango had instructed Scar not to walk so close to Grian, mumbling that he could take his weapon back so easily with how close they were walking. Scar tried to argue, but Grian complied, closing himself off even more as he walked ahead of them.
They’re now settling in for sleep, taking turns in pairs, Tango not trusting Grian to be lookout alone.
Tango and Jimmy lay backed up into the shelter of an overhang, while Scar and Grian sit at the entrance, a considerable distance away.
“Wow- it got dark quicker. Darker than yesterday even,” Scar hums. The sky’s a deep, dark blue rather than the red of last night. Scar shivers, it’s also considerably colder.
“Yeah,” Grian murmurs.
“I bet this is really comforting for you, gloomy dim light,” Scar leans back looking towards where he assumes Grian is sitting, it’s pretty hard to tell.
“Yeah.”
Scar turns back and frowns to himself. It seems Grian is still acting distant, even with Tango and Jimmy snoring peacefully behind them.
“Hmm … wish I could see in the dark though, can't find-”
With far too much force Scar reaches forward, ramming his wrist into a rock wall. He winces. “Ow…”
“Are you okay?” Grian asks from his side, genuine concern lacing his voice.
“Yeah… just, there's a wall there.”
Scar continues to blindly stumble in the dark, searching for his jacket. Suddenly there’s a warm glow, illuminating his surroundings. Scar's mind is slow to process as small flickers of light drift into his peripheral vision, like some combination of fire embers and little lightning bugs.
He jumps backwards, his knee slipping out from under him. “Oh oh oh– what is that!?”
He looks around in shock at the small fiery creatures, before his eyes make contact with Grian who looks completely unconcerned about them. Scar then realises the glare is actually slightly amused at Scars' fright.
“Oh, are you doing that?”
“Yeah… lights to see what you're doing,” Grian mutters somewhat shyly, looking at the space between them. Scar sits back down, reaching for his jacket now that the dim glow has lit up the area.
“Oh! Thanks!” He puts the jacket on, grumbling about the discovery that it isn’t as comfortable inside out. But at least it still keeps the cold at bay so he isn’t about to complain too much.
He watches the tiny lights float in the air. They spin and twirl into themselves, dancing around one another. Scar slowly recognizes the shapes of tiny phantoms, just like the ones from yesterday but smaller and made out of sunlight.
“… Aren't these technically illusion magic?” Scar thinks, not even realising he’s saying it out loud.
He looks to Grian when he hears a shuddered breath, “…oh I guess so,” Grian wraps his arms around his knees, pressing his face into them with a soulful expression.
Unlike the tired apathy he has been carrying, this look is pained and hurt, the little illusions dimming as if in response.
Scar holds his hand out catching one between his fingers. It flutters and whirls in his palm, never quite touching his skin. Scar can swear he can feel its warmth, even though he knows he’s most likely imagining it.
“Well …I like them. They're very cute,” Scar smiles, looking at Grian as he holds one of the tiny beasts in between his hands.
Grian looks up at him, half his face obscured, and that sad look still in his eyes.
“You’re very talented,” Scar pokes at the illusion in his hand, feeling nothing as his finger phases through it. The illusion still dancing and spinning as if it was affected by the force.
“…Thanks,” Grian responds, muffled. A small smile creeps into his features at Scar's compliment.
They fall back into a still quiet state. Scar pushes the illusion back into the air with the others, leaning against the wall as he watches them dance.
“A game huh? I wonder why I'm here…” He muses. Not really expecting an answer from the glare, more filling the air.
“Tango said that we all must have wronged an Ender in our past… But I don't think I have- aside from being a Vindicator… I wonder…” He mulls over ideas in his mind, but there honestly isn't much he can think of. He's never been that involved in the field, and he barely even knows if he'd recognize an Ender if he saw one.
Naturally, Scar's gaze drifts to his company. Grian seems to be as deep in thought as him, his brows deep and ears pinned back, upset.
“Are you… okay?” Scar asks.
Grian looks up at him, his eyes following each line on Scar's face before responding. “Have you decided if I'm a good guy or bad guy yet?”
Scar tilts his head, that’s a very particular kind of question. He leans his head back, taking in the sandy walls striped with different warm shades of colour.
“I don't…” he sighs. “I think I'm starting to realise it's a lot more complex than I thought it all was.”
“Yeah,” Grian mumbles.
“What do you think you are?”
That oh-so-familiar quiet rears its head again. Scar starts to think he isn't going to answer him until, finally, he’s proven wrong.
“… I don't think I'm either, I don't think there really are good guys and bad guys, at least that it's not so black and white most of the time.”
Scar tilts his head down to look at Grian. The bird has now wrapped his tail around his feet, he's almost perfectly wound, aside from his wings that lay out behind him, tired. He's not looking at Scar, but instead at his own illusions that continue to float in the space between them.
Scar looks at them as well. “… I think you're good.”
Grian shifts uncomfortably, raising his head high enough that Scar can see the pained grin he wears.
“Haha god–” he pulls one arm out from being wrapped around his leg and pushes it hard into one side of his face. “You really need to pick better alliances, you really don't know me…”
Scar tilts his head from side to side.
“Well then tell me… do you think you're bad?” He asks simply.
Grian doesn't answer straight away. Instead, he digs his nails slightly into his scalp and looks to his side, very quietly hissing in a breath.
“… I’m trying to be a better person than I was,” he says, almost below a whisper.
“Well, that's something! Bad people don't tend to want to change,” Scar smiles reassuringly. Catching Grian’s eyes and putting on the most friendly expression he can muster.
Grian doesn't seem to buy it though, he pushes his head back into his knees. This time leaning his face away from Scar.
They both sit there, not uttering another word for a few minutes. Scar looks again at the illusions. He wonders what it was like to summon them, and then to keep concentrating on them. Grian doesn't even seem to be paying them much mind, his head buried in his metal limbs. Yet they still dance softly in the air. Maybe it was a soothing thing to conjure and maintain. Grian's feathers certainly imply he's a lot less stressed compared to how they’ve been most of the day.
Scar watches as Grian taps his long taloned fingers against his arm in boredom, the sound resonating in their small space. Metal against metal. Scar stares absently at them, Grian’s head is turned away, so he doesn't feel so bad about picking up on the smaller details he can see now he's this close.
They look slightly scratched, the deep black of the metal is scuffed in places, turning a dark grey. Up this close Scar notices how the robotics look, unfinished. Like they’re just a frame, the mechanisms, and wires open to the world, no protective shell. He can see some of the wires have tape around them, stuck haphazardly to the inside as if they had been snagged and pushed in deeper to avoid being torn again. It strikes Scar as odd. They look incomplete, yet when Grian taps his fingers they move with the fluidity of an organic limb, the small mechanisms barely even make a sound.
“Is it true what he said about enchanted robotics?” Scar asks spontaneously.
Grian lifts his head, that cold look returning once again. He pulls his arms from being wrapped around his legs into his lap, still curled up in his position.
“So, you do think I'm an Ender,” he says plainly.
“Well– I mean– You're not doing much to refute being one,” Scar tries, chuckling under his breath.
“I'm not an Ender,” Grian responds coldly, the least bit amused.
Moving uncomfortably, Scar breaths in, dropping his smile for a genuine look. “And I choose to believe you.”
Grian looks unconvinced. “But you still think I am,” he says slowly.
“… I don't think anything.” Scar argues, interrupted by a surprising chuckle.
“Well, I knew that much already.”
“I– hey!”
Grian giggles to himself, it lays bittersweet on his face when he falls off into silence.
Scar finishes what he’d been saying. “I don't like to assume things.”
With that Grian looks at Scar, really looks at him. The deep dark pools of his eyes squint and scrutinise him. Scar thinks the reflections of the illusions in his eyes look like stars.
“You liked to assume I'm a good person.”
“That's different, I have evidence,” Scar responds cheerfully.
“And what Tango stated wasn't?” He squeaks, baffled, unwinding from his ball more to throw his arms out.
“It didn't feel fair.”
“Fair–” Grian parrots back in disbelief, almost sneering to himself.
“Besides, I feel like it might be hypocritical of me to be upset that you're hiding who you are.”
Grian folds his arms back over himself looking away. “But that's different, I know what you're hiding– I was the one to even suggest it–” He says bitterly.
“Well– maybe I also have my own secrets,” Scar winks.
With a slightly more light in his voice, Grian leans his chin on his knees. “I doubt that– you like talking too much.”
Scar laughs at that, then sits forward holding a finger up as the little illusions swim around him. “You truly underestimate the power of talking, my friend. You can know anything and be given anything by talking, whereas violence enlists the opposite. It cuts you off from ever knowing more. People love talking, and I love secrets. It's an art, really.”
“Why did you become a Vindicator then? If anything they're very for violence and anti-information,” Grian mumbles, looking up at him with a raised brow.
Scar winks again, but this time taps his nose, “For secrets,” he says simply.
Grian rolls his eyes and laughs. “Ah,” He smiles, slipping slightly at the edges. He taps at his arm again. “You sort of concern me,” he huffs. “I don't get you.”
“Well I mean secrets—” Scar starts.
Grian cuts him off, waving a hand. “No no, that's not what I'm talking about…” He rests his hand back down onto his knee looking straight at Scar. “You have this inexplicable blind faith in me and I don't understand why,” his nose scrunches up. “Now, either you're really dumb or …”
Scar splutters trying to defend himself, but Grian continues, closing his eyes.
“I don't know…” He titters.
“I'm just very curious.”
“… about me?”
“Yeah! If you're not going to tell me who you are, then I guess I'll have to get to know you,” Scar grins.
“Usually when people are investigating someone, they don't straight up tell them to their face,” Grian bobs his head smirking.
“And I'm not investigating you,” Scar argues, “it's called companionship— becoming friends. You do have those don't you?” Scar tilts his head.
Grian grins up at him. “Well, you see—” Leaning forward, beckons Scar to follow his movement, before pulling back suddenly.
“That! Was obviously an investigation,” he laughs unfooled.
“Worth a try,” Scar shrugs, also leaning back.
They both become quiet. A cool breeze blows at the feathers on Grian's tail. The little light illusions move through the air slowly, unbothered by the physical realm. Grian holds his hands out, as they all drift over to him, curling up neatly in his hands.
He looks at Scar who’s watching, intrigued, and flashes his teeth in a smile, before closing his hands together, extinguishing the light. Only slight shimmers make it out past his fingers, as Scar watches him push his palms hard against each other still looking at him.
He opens his hands to reveal one creature, slightly bigger than the ones from earlier curled up in his hands. Its form is slightly more detailed, its warm light shimmering with blues and pink at the tips. It bares its tiny teeth as if yawning, and stretches out from its sleepy curl. Grian pushes it up into the air, the small creature imitating catching air in its wings and drifting off into the space in front of them.
“I uh—” Grian interrupts nervously, pulling Scars' gaze away from the illusion. “Thank you! For sticking up for me back there.” He holds a small smile, pained at the edges.
“I honestly wouldn't have held it against you if you took their offer and ran… but—” He coughs and shakes his head. “I guess what I'm saying is it was nice, very foolish… we literally have so many lies to navigate now, it’s a walking nightmare… but it was very kind of you.”
Scar beams, almost wiggling in excitement. “Hey! We're a package deal now!”
The bird rolls his eyes but keeps his smile. “Ugh.”
He pulls his legs out in front of him, his wings lifting off the dusty floor. He shakes them off from the dust before folding them behind his back neatly. He gives Scar a tired look.
Scar shuffles forward waving his hands out, not done with the conversation just yet.
“Seriously! I like you!” Grian flicks him a nervous look, making a confused noise that almost sounds like a chirp. Scar itches his head and elaborates. “I'm glad we've gotten to meet each other again. Under different circumstances.”
Grian's wide grin falters. His eyes drift to the left side of Scar's face, darting away and looking at the ground instead.
“And let’s hope we leave this one better then, aye?” His hesitant grimaces switch to a small but genuine smile.
“I owe at least that to you,” he adds.
Scar nods.
It never occurred to him that they’ll have to part ways at some point, for some reason that thought never crossed his mind, and it makes him sad. He’s a Vindicator and Grian was, probably still is, a criminal. It would be hard to meet up with someone actively imprisoned, and that’s even if Grian cares enough to risk that. Considering he said the words leave, he must have assumed they'll likely never meet again.
It makes Scar feel a little sour, he was having the most fun time here, even with the lingering death and tense energy directed at his new friend. He'd had more fun being kidnapped and disregarded on some random planet than he ever had on a shift.
Scar watches the illusion spin, he doesn't need to dwell on it too much, this adventure is starting to appear long and treacherous, he should just enjoy what he has left of it and Grian’s company.
Scar puts light into his voice, eyes still set on the glowing creature.
“Now shall we discuss at length about our sand trader backstory?”
Grian snorts.
He looks at him to watch Grian fake an obvious yawn. “Wow! I'm suddenly very tired.”
Scar smiles more genuinely this time.
“I’ll be called ‘Scorn’ and you'll be my faithful lackey ‘Giran’”
“They already know our names why-” Grian wheezes, before holding his palms up. ”You know what- nah, actually I'm asleep right now- and actively not engaging” He lays down closing his eyes.
“Best friends,” Scar continues. “Found abandoned as children together in a sandbox, oh that could be where the trading started!”
Grian rolls over away from Scar, pulling his wings pointedly over his head.
“I'M SLEEPING! Can't hear you over how loudly I'm sleeping right now-” he says slightly muffled, starting to laugh. Before he chuckles loudly to himself.
He suddenly sits up quickly and holds his hands tight over his mouth, Scar noticing the noise of someone grumbling tiredly.
He sees a shadow of Tango toss in his sleep before settling again.
Scar and Grian both exchange a look, Grian trying his hardest to hold onto a laugh before he coughs one into his hands, hushing him. Scar joins in wheezing.
They both sit, in a warm glow, laughing quietly between themselves as the night continues.
#stareater au#life series au#gtwscar#grian#tangotek#jimmy solidarity#trafficblr#cw violence#cw injury#team rancher#desertduo
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I Can Fight | J.Ww
Pairing: Wonwoo x reader
Genre: fluff
Summary: Since you married Jeon Wonwoo, you always considered to not wear revealing clothes. Honestly, Wonwoo doesn't care.
Maestro is definitely Wonwoo's era. My love from him escalates from hundred to limited🤍 god, i need him in my life. However, enjoy this fluffy fluffy wonuuuu🥰
It hasn't even been a year since you tied the knot with Jeon Wonwoo, the heir to a vast conglomerate. He possesses everything one could desire: a top-tier education, a lucrative career, and a prominent place in society. Yet, despite his wealth and status, he insists that you are the center of his universe. You, a mere lecturer at a university owned by his father, never imagined you'd capture the heart of someone like Wonwoo.
Your paths crossed at an event where you represented the university as its youngest dean. Wonwoo's attention was drawn to you instantly, captivated by the calm grace you exuded. The following morning, you were taken aback to find him at the university, seeking you out.
"I have something to discuss with you," he said, his eyes filled with a mixture of determination and something else, something softer.
As he proposed an internship program to benefit the students, the conversation effortlessly shifted from professional to personal. It became evident that his true motive was to get closer to you, to unravel the layers of your being.
You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your heart as Wonwoo confessed his ulterior motive. How could you resist someone who pursued you with such sincerity and charm?
Wonwoo's pride in you knew no bounds. He loved to showcase you to his friends and colleagues, boasting about your intelligence and beauty at every opportunity. Being by his side at elite events was both an honor and a responsibility, one that required the perfect attire to match his prestigious status.
As you surveyed the two gowns laid out before you in the bedroom, the weight of the upcoming event pressed upon you. Your current formal attire had already made its rounds, and you couldn't bear the thought of causing Wonwoo any embarrassment by appearing in the same outfit again.
With a heavy sigh, you reached for your phone, dialing Seungkwan's number without hesitation. He was your trusted friend, the one whose fashion sense you relied on for such occasions. But as you questioned his choices, your finger instinctively pointed towards the more daring of the two gowns—a black off-shoulder number with a thigh-high slit.
"What were you thinking with these options?" you inquired, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and concern. The other gown, a deep red wine hue, was equally alluring, with its backless design and knee-high slit, presenting a different kind of challenge.
"I thought that's what rich people wear to events like that! It's straight out of the pages of those fancy books!" Seungkwan's voice came through the phone, his defense ringing with a hint of sheepishness.
You took a moment to collect yourself, inhaling deeply before responding. "Do you honestly think I usually wear something like these?" You couldn't help but chuckle, the absurdity of the situation washing over you.
Seungkwan's laughter echoed through the phone. "Of course not. Last time you wore something revealing was when you danced to '10 Minute' at Jeonghan's birthday party in college."
A wistful smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you recalled the carefree days of youth. "And I was so drunk that I slit my skirt and cut my sleeves," you added, shaking your head at the memory.
Seungkwan's tone turned more serious. "Just wear it. You won't embarrass your husband by wearing it. Trust me."
You nervously bit your lip, the weight of Seungkwan's words sinking in. "He's a respected person, Seungkwan. And I'm an academic. Last time I wore something tight, someone actually talked about him."
"No way! What did they say?" Seungkwan's curiosity piqued through the phone.
You let out a weary sigh, memories of the unpleasant encounter resurfacing. "Just that I looked too hot for a professor, and my look didn't match Wonwoo. It was awful, really. I wish I could have stood up to them at the time."
Seungkwan's voice came through with conviction, urging you not to let others dictate your choices. "Darling! Don't let them stop you. What if you are actually too hot? It's their fault they couldn't handle your fire! Stand up to them if someone talks to you like that."
A soft laugh escaped your lips at Seungkwan's fierce encouragement. "You know I can't fight," you admitted, resigned to your non-confrontational nature.
Before you could dwell further on the conversation, the sound of the bedroom door being pushed open interrupted your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned to see your husband standing there, his presence filling the room with warmth and reassurance.
"Wonwoo just got back from work, I'll let you know my choice. Thanks for getting me these dresses, though," you informed Seungkwan.
Seungkwan hummed in acknowledgment. "Say hi to Wonwoo. I believe he'll choose the black one."
You couldn't help but chuckle at his teasing remark. "Shut up," you retorted playfully before ending the call.
As Wonwoo entered the room, his presence instantly filled the space with comfort and affection. His tie was discarded, and he loosened his blazer before casting a glance at the dresses laid out on the bed.
"Seungkwan got me these for tonight," you explained, gesturing towards the gowns. Wonwoo nodded in understanding as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.
"He has great taste," he murmured softly, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.
A tender smile graced your lips as he pulled you closer, his embrace providing solace and reassurance. "You'll look good in everything," he added, his words washing over you like a comforting embrace.
You gently touched his arms, leaning into his embrace. "But don't you think they'll be too revealing? I could just wear the one I've already used."
Wonwoo shook his head, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "If you want to wear these, then wear them. I think you'll look absolutely gorgeous, whether in revealing clothes or not."
A surge of warmth flooded your chest at his words, his unwavering support comforting you. "However, I would love to see you in them," he added, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
You raised your eyebrows in surprise, turning your head to meet his gaze. "Really?"
Wonwoo nodded, his expression earnest. "Let's show them that you're hot, just like what Seungkwan said."
Your astonishment grew as you realized he had overheard your conversation with Seungkwan. "From which part did you hear us?" you asked curiously.
"From the start. I actually wanted to surprise you, but you were talking to him," Wonwoo confessed with a sheepish smile.
A moment of silence passed between you before he spoke again. "Actually, I want to thank him for getting you these dresses. I can't wait to see you wear it," he added, his excitement evident in his voice.
He gently withdrew his arms from your waist, turning your body to face him. His hands tenderly moved from your hair to your face, cupping your cheeks and stroking them softly. "I'd love to see you in the black one tonight," he murmured, his voice filled with affection as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.
A warmth spread through you at his touch and words, reassurance flooding your senses. "Your friend knows me so well," he remarked, planting another kiss on your forehead before trailing down to your shoulder.
His gestures of love and appreciation enveloped you, melting away any lingering doubts or insecurities.
***
You approached Wonwoo where he sat on the couch in the living room, a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. "Isn't it too revealing?" you asked, your voice tinged with self-doubt.
His breath caught in his throat as he took in your breathtaking appearance. The black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, accentuating your beauty in a way that left him speechless. The subtle yet alluring makeup only enhanced your features, drawing his eyes irresistibly to you. And the scent of your perfume, a familiar fragrance that never failed to captivate him, enveloped him in a heady mix of calm and desire.
As your hand moved to cover the revealed thigh, a part of you that he found utterly captivating, Wonwoo couldn't tear his gaze away from you. His heart raced with a jealous fervor, envying his own eyes for having the privilege of beholding your radiance.
"Is it not working?" you questioned, disappointment evident in your tone as he remained silent.
Unable to contain himself any longer, Wonwoo reached out to gently grasp your hand, pulling it away from your thigh. "No, it's not that," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with reverence and admiration. "You look absolutely stunning, beyond words."
Wonwoo sensed your apprehension and immediately shook his head, stepping forward to take your hand and press a tender kiss to it. "I can't believe I'm married to you. You look amazing, love," he murmured, lifting your hand and encouraging you to spin to showcase your dress.
As you twirled, a hint of uncertainty lingered in your mind, but Wonwoo's gasp of awe and promise to buy you countless dresses like the one you wore washed away your worries.
"You can wear anything you want, love. I can fight.," he declared, his words echoing your own inner resolve.
A smile graced your lips as you leaned in to peck his cheek, feeling reassured by his unwavering support. "I'll fight them with my whole life. But kiss me again, here and now," he requested, tapping his lips playfully.
You obliged, landing another gentle kiss, but before you could pull away, Wonwoo's grip on your head tightened, deepening the kiss into a passionate embrace. Lost in the moment, your hands instinctively found their way to his neck, reveling in the intimacy of the kiss that ignited a fiery passion between you.
"Should we skip the event?" he suggested with a mischievous smirk, tempting you with the idea of spending the evening wrapped up in each other's arms.
You playfully slapped his chest, chuckling at his suggestion. "Let's wipe your lips and let me fix my makeup. Seungcheol is going to kill you if we skip his birthday party," you reminded him, handing him a wet wipe.
Wonwoo chuckled as he wiped his mouth clean of your lipstick. "He loves me, he won't kill me," he mumbled before turning his gaze back to you. "So, what do you think?" he asked, anticipation dancing in his eyes as he awaited your response.
#seventeen fanfic#seventeen imagines#seventeen angst#seventeen scenarios#densworld🌼#seventeen series#seventeen fanfiction#seventeen imagine#seventeen drabbles#wonwoo fic#wonwoo oneshot#seventeen wonwoo#jeon wonwoo#wonwoo#wonwoo fluff#wonwoo imagines#wonwoo scenarios#wonwoo series#wonwoo smut#wonwoo x reader#wonwoo recs#wonwoo au
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Time Off Needed
Alrighty, everyone this week turned into a Somi week, so this one is on the shorter side. Anyway, let's hope Somi gets a break she'll need one for working on one of her days off.
Length 1.8k
Somi x Mreader
Somi took a deep breath, raised her hands above her head, and stretched herself out. “Time to go home,” she said to herself as she grabbed her things. She waved goodbye to the few coworkers left in the building and got into her car, driving home. As Somi drove home, she called you, waiting as she listened to the ring go off three times.
“Hello?”
“Hey, are we still on for tomorrow? It’s the end of the month, after all.”
“Yeah, I’ll come by your place tomorrow morning; it’s going to be an all-day thing, right?”
“Yep, alright, that’s all I wanted to know. I’ll see you tomorrow, " she said before ending the call and continuing her drive along the highway. Her mind was elsewhere, filled with anticipation for the weekend and finally getting some time to relax.
When she got home, Somi tossed her bag onto the couch and headed to her room. She threw herself onto her bed and let out a long sigh. She shut her eyes briefly, letting her body relax before slowly pushing herself out of bed, heading to the shower, throwing off her clothes, and stepping inside.
The hot water rolled down Somi’s tired body, caressing it as she shook her head and enjoyed the warmth it provided. Somi shut her eyes and craned her neck, groaning, “That feels nice.” She took her time in the shower, feeling her body unwind and relax further.
Once she was done, Somi wrapped a towel around her hair and changed into her sleepwear: a simple white tank top and panties. As she left the bathroom, a rush of cold air hit her, making her shiver. She rushed to her bedroom, wrapping herself in a blanket. A smile crossed Somi’s face as she felt the comfort of the blanket. Before sleeping in for the night, she checked her phone, going through her plans for the weekend before placing it on her nightstand and calling it a night.
The next day, Somi got herself ready, got out of bed, and put on her best outfit. By the time you arrived, she was completely prepared. She led you into the other room. It was her recording room, designed with all the frills you could imagine around her bed. “Alright, put this on,” she said, handing you a large bear mask, one that would be used by a mascot in any other situation. “Oh, and take those pills.”
“Really? This one?” You ask, referring to the mask.
“Yeah, you got a problem with it?”
“Yeah, it moves too easily.”
“I changed it; there’s a rubber mouthpiece for you to bite down on. Besides, people like hearing me, so it’s better for me too.” Somi explains, moving to the computer and bending over as she adjusts some settings. You look her up and down, taking note of the outfit she chose to wear for today—something that looked far too prim and proper for what would be happening. You would’ve called it a uniform, but Somi would correct you. She glanced over her shoulder, “Hey, get ready,” she tells you, grabbing two hair ties from her desk and putting her hair into two pigtails. You huff, strip down to nothing, and put on the comically large bear head, finding the rubber mouthpiece she mentioned. “Alright, good,” you hear her say as she pushes you to the side. She opens her blouse, showing off the soft curves of her breasts, “Show’s starting,” Somi puts on a face mask and heads back to the computer, turning on the stream. You take off the mask to use one of the pills and watch from the sidelines as she introduces herself, “Hi, everyone!” She shouts, waving to the camera. “It’s been a month since our last show, and you guys met the goal!” Somi feigns excitement, mimicking fireworks with her voice. “Okay, so because you guys met my goal, you guys get a very special show today. We’re going to go for a full 12 hours. Sit back, get your cock out for me, and enjoy watching me go crazy. I’ll look forward to getting to see all the pictures afterward.” She says. “Alright, there’s some material for you; now we’ll get started.”
Somi turns toward you, extending her hand as she walks over to you and grasping your cock. She drags you into the frame and waves to the camera. “I found a nice teddy bear to use today.” She says before kneeling before you. She glances up at you, and you know, under the mask is a big smile. Somi moves her hand quickly over your cock, “I can’t wait to feel this thing inside me,” she giggles. You roll your eyes, biting down on the mouthpiece as Somi’s hand slows down, and she brings herself closer.
Somi lifts her mask slightly, slipping your cock inside. You groan. Somi’s tongue moves up and down along your shaft, coating your cock in a layer of saliva as she bobs her head. Somi groans as she sucks your cock, her fingers slipping under her shorts and rubbing against her slit. “I’m so wet already,” she says, glancing at the camera and the chat speeding by. You place your grab onto Somi’s pigtails and thrust, pushing your cock into the back of her throat. Somi chokes on your cock, not expecting you to take charge. You give her a chance to adjust before beginning to thrust into her mouth. Your cock crashes against the back of Somi’s throat. Somi glances up, hunger in her eyes, as she places one of her hands on your thighs and lets you use her throat. Somi continues to play with herself, pushing her fingers into her wet cunt. She pushes them in and out of her slit, moaning against your cock as you drive your cock into her.
Saliva coats Somi’s mouth as you continue to thrust, your balls smack against her chin as she begins running out of breath. You don’t stop, though, you were enjoying fucking her throat too much, and you both knew her fans loved to see her become a mess.
You held Somi against your crotch, watching as the young woman furiously fingered herself, her moans growing higher in pitch until you pulled out. You adjust Somi’s mask and rub your cock against her, she nuzzles it in response.
You grab Somi’s hand and pull her to her feet, making her face the camera. You reach up and pull off her blouse, showing her tits to the audience. You cup them, raising them slowly and dropping them, letting everyone see Somi’s tits bounce. “Take me already,” Somi moans, rubbing her ass against you. You keep one hand on Somi’s breast, pinching her nipple and making her whimper while you slowly pull down her shorts with the other.
Moving to the bed, you bend Somi over it, making sure the camera has a good angle as you drive your hand into her ass. “Mmm!” You strike her again and again, her ass slowly turning red as you switch from cheek to cheek. You begin to slow down your smacks, letting the crowd take in the sight before moving Somi onto your lap. Rubbing your cock against her wet slit Somi looks at the camera, “He’s about to put it in everyone; make sure you watch carefully.” She says, her words slurring as you slip yourself inside her tight cunt. You move your hands to her thin waist, gripping it tightly as you move her up and down your shaft. Somi’s moans flood the room as she takes your cock, feeling it stretch out her cunt. As you pick up the pace, her tits start bouncing, entertaining the audience as they watch the young woman beg for more. Each thrust crashes against her womb, making Somi’s body tingle as she rides you.
Somi’s eyes go half-lidded as she continues to bounce on your cock; it was for show; her moans, though, were real. You shift one of your hands to her clit, gently flicking it and sending a shock through her system. “Oh shit,” She moaned, Somi leaned forward, hunched over as you teased her. She glanced up at the camera, ensuring everything was still going as you had your way with her. Somi could see tips flying in as everyone watched her getting fucked. She tried to figure out how much it was, but the pleasure coursing through her put her mind in a fog. Before she could try to clear her mind, you put your arm over her chest and pulled her back, holding her down as your thrust became quicker. Your muffled groans came quickly as you neared your climax. Somi could feel your cock begin to throb inside her, “He’s going to cum!” Somi yelled out, throwing her head back to show her face as you buried your length inside her. Not a second later, you were flooding Somi’s cunt with your cum. Her body tensed around your cock, milking it as she continued to moan.
“Oh, fuck,” Somi laughed, “I feel so full everyone. Did you cum for me too?” She asks them before giggling. Somi pushes herself off you, letting your cum run down her leg, before turning around and bending over. “Can you see how he filled me up?” She asks before sneaking her mouth around your cock again, lapping up your semen as she spreads her folds and lets everyone glimpse at her swollen cunt.
“I wonder how many more times you’ll cum,” Somi whispers as she wraps her lips around your cock and pulls back. Somi looks over her shoulder and looks at the camera, “Alright, everyone, you’re going to see what it’s like when I’m in charge of riding.” Somi pushes you onto your back and straddles you, rubbing your cock between her folds before impaling herself onto it.
You and Somi continue the marathon of sex, stopping on occasion but fulfilling all twelve hours. Somi barely has enough energy to turn off the stream and return to bed. Her legs are shaky after the many orgasms and the soreness she feels. Through the twelve hours, you had cum inside Somi so many times you forgot the exact number; you hadn’t put it all in her cunt either, switching between all three holes she had. Cum was flowing between her legs as it leaked out of her gaping asshole and cunt. You take off the bear mask and look at Somi. “Are you going to be able to do anything tomorrow? You’re going to be super sore.”
Somi didn’t respond; she was already sleeping. Her saliva and your cum mixed as it dripped onto the mattress. You chuckle and leave her there, covering her with her clothes before taking a shower and leaving the young woman for the night.
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My Darling, My Honey
Alastor X Fem!Reader (Part 7)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
Quick Notes:
You, the reader who is an artist, and had become Alastor's sweetheart, have just died.
Alastor is about to find out.
Part 7:
The sound of a singular gunshot rang clearly in the night that had been so peacefully quiet up until that moment in time.
Alastor, with the engagement ring in his pocket, who had been peacefully reading a novel within the confines of your shared home, nearly ripped his book in half upon hearing the sound of a gunshot in these woods.
The forest around here was part of his private property, anyone who dared to trespass or hunt in his neck of the woods was shot on sight. Many people ignored the plentiful and very obvious warning signs, so it wasn't his fault so many people ended up becoming your and his meals. Everyone else just thought the law didn't apply to them, straight-up criminals. In his eyes, they all deserved it.
Thinking it was just another nuisance, a "tsk" left Alastor's mouth as he grabbed his shotgun and headed into the woods.
After a few minutes of walking, he finally caught sight of the transgressors. Two men that he, unfortunately, recognized right away as the men from the bar who liked to push his buttons by harassing you.
The seething rage pooled in his core, bubbling up into his chest. This was his chance to get rid of those nuisances once and for all.
They would trouble his darling no more.
For him to get into a better position to take the men out, he crouched down and quietly circled around them like a hunter playing with his prey.
After circling around to position himself behind the men, what he wasn't expecting to see was the most nightmarish sight he's ever seen.
His beloved sweetheart, soon to be betrothed, all disheveled and tied up against a blood-splattered tree with a bullet lodged in the middle of their forehead.
Your eyes were lifeless. There was no doubt about it, the love of his life was dead.
Alastor didn't need to even think before pulling the trigger on the men, shooting one after the other, over and over, even after their bodies had hit the ground.
He. Was. Enraged.
By the time Alastor was done with them, they looked like Swiss cheese, barely strung together.
Alastor's breath was heavy, his chest heaving, near hyperventilating, his eyes were enlarged and his mind was focused on one thing. You.
His beautiful love, he couldn't bear to see you in this state.
In his oddly manic and shocked state, he untied you from the tree and took your body back to your shared home in the woods not too far from here.
For a few moments, his rage was replaced by sorrow and mourning as he buried you in the backyard. As fucked up as he was in the head sometimes, he would rather die than think about eating you. You were sacred to him.
As he laid you down into the ground, he embraced you once last time and took the ring out of his pocket. He placed the ring onto your ring finger and kissed the top of your hand, "In life and in death, I am forever yours, as you are forever mine. I love you, dear."
After you were buried, the rage returned like a vicious tsunami. Oh he wasn't done with revenge just yet.
Every single man or woman that ever mistreated you or offended you, was put on his list.
This night was the catalyst that gave birth to the serial killer known as the "Bayou Killer".
Alastor stopped visiting Mimzy's bar since your death, with his sole focus and dedication in life going to hunting down those that had harmed you in life. After all, they deserved it, you were like an angel to him.
But what Alastor didn't stop doing, was broadcasting his radio show. So many of his connections were made because of his show, so it was a valuable resource to keep active, to use to his advantage.
Alastor continued living his life like this until every single name was crossed off his list.
It was then that it was time for his luck to run out.
Right upon the killing the very last person on the list, was Alastor also shot right square in the forehead.
Before his consciousness faded into black, all he could hear was the muffled panic of a stranger who seemed to be apologizing for mistaking him for some sort of animal.
All Alastor could do was chuckle at the irony of the whole situation, the maniacal laughter was the type that only a madman could produce- before everything went dark and he died.
He thought he would never see you again, because surely, his beloved sweetheart would end up in heaven right?
The answer to this would remain a mystery for many decades to come as Alastor descended into Hell and became who is now widely known in Hell as "The Radio Demon".
-> Part 8
#hazbin#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor x reader#alastor#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x you#fanfic#alastor hazbin#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel x you#alastor the radio demon#radio demon#alastor x y/n#hazbin x reader#alastor radio demon#the radio demon#hazbin x you#hazbin x y/n#hazbin hotel x y/n#x y/n#x reader#x you
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Someone planted in my head that todoroki playing with eri would heal his inner child because he grew up not allowed to play with his siblings or have any friends so!
Imagine one day you lug in a huge lego set or a puzzle and you ask him to help you with it. Shoto, who generally is a quieter and calmer soul, finds peace and comfort in it. The both of you spend hours on it, even if he's tired after work. He starts buying more and more sets, and lets be honest....dabi or one of the older todoroki siblings probably guilted endeavour into spending money on these sets for his adult son.
Then, you bring in beyblades and the two of you start having mini battles that have narrations and everything. I'd like to think that Shoto already has some experience with this because of Class A and used to do this a lot with kaminari and the rest! Sometimes, when Class A would have a get together (no matter how infrequent they may be), they still take out the board games and get super fucking competitive.
I'd like to think that no matter what, Class A spent years in school with weekly game nights!!
Then! One day, you drag shoto with you to watch the Barbie movie which he LOVED, he wore pink and everything, and got really curious when you talked about playing with dolls as a kid. He played with dolls as a kid but generally on his own.
Next thing he knows, you bought some toys and the two of you were sat on the living room floor playing with dolls. Shoto, in all honestly, felt silly doing so but didn't wanna discourage you so he played along. At first, he played it with a very no nonsense tone, made the bear have a job and responsibilities.
"Ah, tax season is coming around...it'll be tough this year."
"Shoto....I don't think the bear needs to worry about taxes."
"She's a businesswoman, it's her civic duty to pay taxes."
"Well she didn't so now she's under arrest :)"
"Ah fuck."
Pretty soon this just fizzled out into a plushie collection that included his own eventual plushies, his friend's plushies, bunnies and bears and cats. He even had those giant ones that are almost life sized. Yes, some of them he bought them for you and you bought for him but they turned into a shared custody situation.
One day, Touya visits with the two of you sitting on the living room floor, shoto's hair braided and cute star stickers on his face. You were focusing heavily on painting his nails half white and half red. Shoto just made eye contact with his older brother and grinned, asking if he wanted his nails painted.
"Do ya'll have black?" Touya asked.
"We have sparkly navy blue?"
"Fucking fine."
And that's how he ended up on the floor too, with his legs crossed and a cat plushie between them, having his nails painted while his baby brother tied his hair into pigtails. The man complained really loudly about it but had no intention of moving.
#shoto healing his inner child heals ME#honorary touya cameo because he deserves to heal his inner child too!#this idea came and i just had to write it#shoto todoroki x reader#shoto x reader#todoroki x reader#todoroki shoto x reader#mha x reader#bnha fanfiction#bnha fic#bnha headcannons#bnha x reader#bnha x you
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Seeing Green
Gwayne had enough of you and declared he would not be accompanying you on your travels to the town ever again. How glad you were to know Harwin would in his stead.
bodyguard!Gwayne Hightower x Lannister!Reader x Harwin Strong | 2k+ | cw: fem!reader, enemies to lovers, forced proximity ig, im just a girl!reader, angst?, jealousy, typos, etc.
A/N: this is a p2 to seeing red but you dont have to read it to understand whats happening. I have made a next part!
Tagging: @lancedoncrimsonwings @targs-on-zorses @barbieaemond @arabellasleopardcoat
"GWAYNE!" I stick my head out of the carriage window. I scoff as I watch the armored man walk off, "you can not be serious!"
"Serious?!" he snaps, turning back to me with a raised brow and a tense jaw. He rubs his lips as he storms back towards me. His glare is so grave that I actually lean back into my seat and clench my skirt.
Gwayne stomps his foot on one of the steps up the carriage. A line forms between his brows, "you have WORN me!"
I grow tense as flails his hand around.
"I have done nothing but exact your cumbersome and frivolous commands with patience!" He snaps, "and now that I've met my limit yet you have the gall to ask me if I am being serious!?!"
Gwayne's eyes are wide and clearer than the skies. His pointed stare is piercing and I cannot deflect it as he speaks to me of my unreasonableness. Admittedly, my requests were some meant to annoy him, but I did not expect him to act so acridly. I mean, surely he was accustomed to it by now. Was I truly becoming too much to bear for him?
His face is flushed with rage. I stare at him, unable to speak, for in truth I did not know how to meet his apparently genuine frustration.
"Oh," he scoffs, chuckles bubbling out his throat, "she does not speak, for there is nothing else true to say." He grips the carriage door, "what? Have you realized you do work me worse than your own employed servants? That you ask of me more than what I am required of?"
"But it is my right!" I pipe up, though my voice is still small, "you must accompany me wherever I so wander."
Gwayne's jaw feathers, "I am tasked to protect you from peril and to prevent you from doing the unwise," he steps back, "not to carry your clothes and hang them in your wardrobes!"
I stare at him, dread building in my stomach.
"What?!" he quips, "do you truly not see the brunt of my frustrations?"
"... I do not think it unreasonable to-" I gaps when he closes the door with unnecessary force before storming away.
In truth, the gesture was harsher than it needed to be and bothers me more than it should. There is a tightness to my chest as I slowly open the door and watch the man so readily forsake me. Against myself, my eyes begin to prick with tears.
"Gw-" I shut my mouth at the sound of my voice breaking. I chew my lower lip and take deep breaths to calm myself.
I did not mean to make him cross— not like that. I feel my throat tighten as I replay what just happened. Guilt eats at me more each second and soon salt cascades down my cheeks. I sit there until the coachman knocks and asks if we should away. I dismiss him and tell him I will stay here for a little while.
I don't. It feels like an hour passed of me trying not to cry, crying, and calming myself. I start when someone knocks on my carriage door.
"My Lady Lannister?" a deep voice speaks, making me wipe my face in a panic.
I try to stifle my sniffle and use my skirt to dry my tears.
"Tis Ser Harwin Strong. You cannot leave your carriage here."
I clear my throat, but my voice still betrays me with a crack, "ap-ologies. I will have it m-" but my coachman is not here. I sigh and stare at my lap. My lips wobble as helplessness creeps up on me.
A prolonged moment of silence ensues before the man outside speaks again, "my lady... are you well?"
I huff and concede to simply opening the door.
I wipe my philtrum on my sleeve and feel twice as dreadful as I see the dark haired and bearded man outside my carriage. He is a beauty. His blue eyes narrow in concern, "my lady."
I shake my head and gather my skirts.
He instinctively reaches out a hand to me and assists me as I exit my ride. Once I am stood before him, I realize just how tall and broad he is. His brows tighten as he releases my hand. I offer him a smile, "I beg your pardon for the inconvenience. I do not have anyone to move the carriage."
Ser Harwin shakes his head, "one of the stable boys can move it." He turns over his shoulder and hollers for someone to do just that. A boy approaches us, nodding politely before climbing up the driver's seat to do what was instructed of him.
My stomach rolls when the towering man looks back at me. His demeanor is starkly juxtaposed to his stature. He ghosts a hand on my shoulder and raises an arm. He leads me off to the side and speaks softly, "is there anything I can assist you with, my lady?"
I shake my head, "I am well."
He nods and clutches his hands once we find ourselves standing just by the entrance of the Keep, "forgive me, but as a guard of the City Watch, it is my duty to uphold justice. I cannot stand idle in the face of trickery."
My brows quirk at his words. I tilt my head, "do you call me a liar, ser?"
"Yes," he answers simply.
My lips part as his brazen admission.
"True, it is not uncommon for one to weep with joy, but I recognize the distress laid upon your brow," he shakes his head, "would it not be simpler for you to say you require nothing of me than to pretend you are well?"
His words make me choke. I feel my eyes begin to fog with tears.
Ser Harwin's face falls. He raises his hands, "forgive me. I only meant-"
"No," I mumble, "you are right. I injure myself! I speak before I think and create inconveniences for entertainment." I scratch my tears away before they can fall. I look up to the man, feeling dread bite at me. I resist my instinct to slip further into my emotions and try to speak as evenly as possible, "the truth is... I had a... disagreement with my ward... we always get into disagreements, but... this time it was visceral."
The man shifts on his leg, "might I ask what the disagreement was over?"
"He says I work him like a dog, that I ask much more than what he ought to do," I sniffle, "and... perhaps it is true," I evade his gaze by turning to the sky. My lips quiver, "but I did not realize my presence was so heavily insufferable." I look back at him, "I am easy on the eyes, am I not?"
The man chuckles softly, "your features are quite comely indeed, Lady Lannister."
I nod once, "that is the only correct response, ser."
A rich chuckle fills the space between us. He hums and raises a hand, "have you expressed your orders were mere reasons to keep his company?"
My expression drops at his words. I laugh but it goes dry when I realize he spoke no jest. "Ser, my ward is Gwayne Hightower. He loathes me just as I loathe him."
"And do you normally weep for your enemies?" he tilts his head.
"I weep because he regards me so cruelly!" I snap in defense, "it is most twisted for one as he to raise his voice and show aggression to one such as I!"
Ser Harwin sighs.
I wipe my philtrum, feeling my body tremble with a mix of emotions.
"What was this errand you needed to be chaperoned to?"
I gulp as I bring my hands to my hips. I debate the sincerity of his words and decide he does not have the face of a man who would use my words against me. I huff, "the tailor's. I was to have a new dress made for me for-"
His brows quirk at my abrupt halt.
I feel blood rush up my neck, but I decide to ignore it and speak with as much scorn as I could muster, "Gwayne's nameday celebration."
I observe him carefully, ready to pounce and pound him if he so wishes to berate me for the honest admission. In truth, I am taken aback by the curtness of his reply. He nods and offers me an arm, "if it pleases you, I can accompany you to the tailor myself. I have finished my patrol and have nothing better to do."
My eyes dart from the curls framing his face to his meaty arm. My lips part as I find the words to say, "would you... rather not rest for the day?"
"My honor would not allow me after beholding a lady in her distress."
I stare at his arm for a few seconds and cautiously take it.
A good while passed until Gwayne returned to the stables to find his irritating lady. When he sees the Lannister carriage parked, he sighs and marches over, preparing himself to meet the rage of the woman that was still sitting inside in protest.
"Will you sleep-" he starts but stops when he opens the door to nothing. He raises a brow and closes the door. His attention falls on the passing servant, "you. Where is the lady of this carriage?"
The man looks at him then the carriage.
"Lady Lannister," Gwayne clarrifies.
He perks in recognition, "the lady Lannister and ser Strong headed to the tailor on horseback."
"On horseback," the knight scoffs in disbelief, "Lady Lannister?" his voice fades into a laugh. And he so enjoys himself laughing for a moment before sighing, "why, I applaud the good ser for his powers of persuasion."
Upon realizing that he no longer needed to be here, Gwayne grins and nods at him, "thank you my good man. Your news has made my day."
With that he walks off and heads to his quarters.
The next day, Gwayne has a spring to his step as he heads down the hall.
I am in the middle of having my hair fixed when I hear a knock on my door. I look at the reflection from the mirror before me, "come in."
I behold Gwayne and his grin as he struts towards my bed. He leaps into it, landing on his chest. He instructs one of my servants to get him a cup of wine. Each of these things would normally be cause to chew him up; all of these combined would make me unleash upon him the wrath due to his impertinence, and yet, I find myself uncaring of his blatant misbehavior. I merely instruct my servant to fetch the sapphire necklace that match my velvet dress and sit tight by my vanity.
Gwayne takes the wine that is served to him and sips before speaking out, "I hear Lord Harwin Strong was he who accompanied you to town yesterday."
I ignore him in lieu of twirling the baby hairs by my ears.
"And on horseback, no less," he takes another sip, "how ever did he get you to ride a horse by yourself?"
"I didn't," I turn to my servant who returns with my jewels, "we rode on the same horse."
Gwayne stills. He scrunches his face at the cup in his hand then looks at me, "what?"
I smile at myself on the mirror as the necklaces is clasped around my neck. I adjust the blue stone that sparkled between my collarbones and admire the look of it.
He sits up from the bed, careful not to spill his drink, "you rode the same horse?"
"Of course we rode the same horse," I roll my eyes, "he is not a fool who expects me to enjoy such sport."
The red haired man raises his brows. He waits for me to expound further, but finds I am distracted by my reflection. He scoffs, sipping again more before saying, "I pity the steed."
I grin at myself, pleased with my image.
"I pity the steed," he repeats, "that had to carry a knight, a brat, and her hundred dresses."
My eyes dart to him. He is already looking at me from the mirror. "He did not ride with me on the way back. He is not cruel like you."
"So he walked?" his forehead curls, "and on the way back, no less." He scoffs once more before drinking again, "well, the tailor is not that far."
I inspect my attire one last time before standing and heading to the bed. Gwayne lifts his eyes; the corner of his lips soon follow. He shifts on his spot and drinks deeply.
"You are dismissed, Hightower."
He licks his lips as his brows furrow, "what?"
I tilt my head and clasp my hands together, "you do so love making sport of me repeating myself."
Gwayne pulls his head back before standing. He lifts his nearly empty cup, "are you saying you— you have no plans for the day?" He purses his lips, "no errands you wish to force upon my being."
I clench my teeth but manage to pull a smile. Gwayne finds such endearment in the forced grins, not that he would ever admit so. I nod in agreement.
"So," he holds his cup with both hands, "I am free to do what I will for the day."
"Even more so to do it as far away from me as possible," I raise my hands before walking towards him to push him out of my room.
The man chuckles as he finishes what is left of his wine. He manages to hand the empty cup to one of the servants just before we both step out of the room. He licks his lips and tilts his head at me.
The smile that spreads on his face makes my stomach roll and I combat it with a glare, "do not wait on me. I will be promenading with a friend."
"Promenade?" he chuckles. The lines on his cheek remain as he raises his brow. He looks me once over, eyes lingering on the sapphire on my décolletage, "and pray tell, who in the Keep has merited the friendship of someone so high-nosed as you?"
"Ser Harwin Strong."
His grin falters.
I do not care to wonder why as I walk off and meet the man I named in the gardens as we had arranged.
Gwayne watches. He is left alone in the corridor. He chuckles to himself and heads off to the library to unwind. The closer he inched to his destination however, the more sour the taste in his mouth became. Before he even comes near the library, he finds himself marching off to look for gods knows what he'll find.
And it seems the gods do want him to find the source of his sourness. As he marched down one stairwell, he heard an unmistakable sound of laughter that made his ears perk. He heads to the hall and looks out the window.
There, he sees a man stood in front of a woman sat upon a bench, both of them giggling and both of them in blue. His eye twitches as the dark haired fool carelessly picks a flower from a bush and offers it to her.
Gwayne finds no relief when she does not take it, for instead it seems she instructed him to place the flower on the side of her hair.
"Ha," he scoffs, pulling away from the window, "promenade, says she? Ha!" Gwayne shakes his head as his feet take him back towards the library, "neither of them are walking. HA!"
Gwayne cannot help the way his hands clench and unclench as he storms off. He scoffs once again, "fucking Strong," the ire in his chest is molten, prickly, and painful as he adds, "fucking Lannister."
#gwayne#gwayne hightower fanfic#gwayne fanfic#gwayne fic#gwayne hightower fic#house of the dragon#house of the dragon fanfic#gwayne hightower fluff#house of the dragon fluff#hotd fic#gwayne hightower smut#hotd fanfic#gwayne fluff#gwayne smut#gwayne x reader#gwayne x you#gwayne hightower x reader#gwayne hightower#gwayne hightower x you#gwayne angst#gwayne hightower angst#harwin strong fanfic#harwin strong#harwin fanfic#harwin fluff#harwin strong fluff#harwin x reader#harwin angst#harwin strong angst#harwin strong x reader
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Changing Lenses
(Momo x fem!reader)
Word Count: 12.3k
Slightly Angsty (but for like 2 minutes) Fluff/Smut
Summary: Your ex girlfriend’s best friend transfers to your school and you’re forced to complete a photography project with her. In time you realize that maybe she’s not who you thought she was…maybe even way better than you hoped.
TW: drinking, food, eating, camping, sex, oral, a lil degradation, a little choking, a little this and that. Taking a picture mid-sex, uhhhhh talks of abusive moments in past relationships. There’s a bear.
AN: Happy Early Momo daaaaaay! Thank you to @psylocke142 for yapping with me about this and helping fuel my delusion!
Please enjoy and drink some water today! Ask are always open and feedback is always welcome! :)🖤
“I’m actually kind of excited for this project! I’m really hoping whoever I’m paired with wants to get the nature prompt too. Especially because the mountains are literally right there.” pointing out the window to show an array of different hilltops that you and your friends frequented for the trails.
“I hope I get the ocean.” Tzuyu, your best friend, flips her hair and checks out the girl who sat in the corner of the study hall.
“You just want to work with Chaeyoung…and she wants the ocean prompt…you can’t even swim.” smirking and giving a light chuckle while shaking your head no in a half hearted tease.
Tzuyu whips her head around, gawking at you while giving her classic “oh my god shut up” look before giving up and swooning over Son Chaeyoung again.
“Well…maybe she will teach me.” sighing as she rests her head on her palm and daydreams about getting partnered with her crush.
“I truly don’t even care who I get partnered with, I just want the mountains. It would be fun to go explore and find animals in their natural habitats, don’t you think?” excitedly leaving your lips as Tzuyu is lost in her delusion.
“Alright everyone!” the professor calms everyone down, bringing their attention to the front of the room.
“We will be doing the pairings for the project shortly, but before we do, I’ve got a new student want to introduce you to!” ushering them into the class room.
Bright blonde hair in a bob style was the first thing you noticed, a red polo that’s cropped and had white stripes across the shirt horizontally was second, the pants were brown and high waisted and her sneakers tied all the colors together.
The girl turns to face the class and immediately your stomach drops, a small gasp follows the dip in your stomach when you realize who she is and why you know her.
“Everyone! This is Momo. She just transferred here from across town. Momo is a very talented photographer, some of her pictures have been featured on the schools website! We are very excited to have you here Momo.” the professor nods her head at Momo and then looks at the class.
“And I’m sure everyone is going to make you feel welcome, right class?” a glare from the teacher and everyone is nodding their head.
Momo finds a seat in the back of the class room next to Chaeyoung and makes small talk with her and you try not to freak out.
“Damn, did you see blondie? She’s kinda cute.” biting her lip and making her eyebrows dance at you continuing her normal playful antics.
“Tzu…I hate to break this to you but no way in HELL am I speaking to that woman.” the distain in your voice could’ve been picked up a mile away.
“Why not? What’s wrong with her? She’s got a fashion sense, the blonde bob is working for her AND she’s a good photogra-”
“That’s Sana’s best friend, Tzuyu.” cutting her off mid sentence so she could understand the gravity of this.
“Sana’s best friend?? Oh, shit.” her typical doe-eyed expression molted into a stunned appearance as she brings her full attention to you for the first time today.
“Yeah, oh shit is right.” rolling your eyes and crossing your arms before laying your head on the desk.
Sana….Minatozaki Sana, your ex-girlfriend. The relationship between the two of you was…well, it wasn’t great.
Hence, the ex part.
You dated for a few years and she was always busy with everyone but you, including Momo. Prioritizing everything but you and your relationship, it hurt you. Of course, it hurt you. At the drop of a hat, you would’ve done anything for her but it wasn’t a shared sentiment.
Not that you and Momo didn’t get along but she always kept to herself when you were around, not wanting to partake in conversations, even small talk, seemingly keeping a distance.
Getting over Sana wasn’t easy by any means. The way she made you feel altered your brain chemistry, and not for the better. Feeling like an accessory to her, only really calling you when she wanted you around her arm, was excruciating every single time.
Still trying to heal from the open wound Sana left you with, you remember the times that didn’t seem so bad. The memories flashing before your eyes before settling coldly in your chest, you weren’t going to crucify Sana but you did still hold some anger towards her.
“Y/n!” professor shouting your name to get your attention.
Startled by this, you jump in your seat - causing a small wave of laughter through the classroom.
“You’ll be paired with Momo. I trust that you will teach her anything she might be behind on, should there be anything.”
The fakest smile you can muster graces your face, even if you were internally screaming - hellfire, blood and brimstone in your lungs because of course this is your luck.
“I’d be happy to.” through clenched teeth.
The professor gives you a strange look and then carries on with pairing people. Tzu and Chae got paired together, Tzuyu almost fell out of her seat when the professor partnered them up.
“You will be responsible for taking pictures of animals and their natural habitats in order to capture unique moments in nature as if it’s for national geographic. Due to to safety concerns, we will be excepting shots from farther away than normal. If any of you see a larger animal that can cause harm, DO NOT APPROACH IT. I’m looking at you, Chaeyoung. That’s why you and Tzuyu are paired up so she can keep you out of trouble…and why you got the ocean prompt you wanted…I don’t want another replay of last time, do you understand?” the tone of her voice is somehow stern, yet playful.
Last project, Chaeyoung befriended the raccoons behind the school, bringing them into class to show them off with the pictures she took of them. They created a massive mess in the classroom and have been trying to sneak back into the building sense.
“I wouldn’t be able to bring a shark in here anyways…” Chaeyoung rolled her eyes at the professor before making eye contact with Tzuyu and offering a wink to her.
Chae has to know, especially with the shade of red that Tzuyu turned when she saw the wink, along with the little gasp - she turned away and proceeded to gay panic to you about it.
Too lost in thought and worried about how this project was going to go, unable to think about anything else. You even considered not participating in it, despite how excited you were moments ago.
It was too big of a grade to skip out on, unfortunately.
The bell rings and you are out the door so quickly, leaving Tzuyu behind and practically running to your car.
“Hey! Wait!” a voice calls from behind you.
Stopping dead in your tracks, you knew exactly who it was.
Tensing up, you take a deep breath and turn around slowly to see Momo jogging towards you, trying to catch up to you with a sheepish smile on her face.
“Hey.” offered to her only out of wanting to be polite.
“Hi.” she offers the same fake niceties back to you.
Both of you shuffle your feet around, not really knowing what to say before she breaks the silence.
“I know this is going to be a little weird considering…but I know you’re very creative and I did always admire the pictures that you took so maybe we can put all the weirdness aside and just do the project?” there’s something genuine about this that peaks your interest.
Hirai Momo, best friend of Minatozaki Sana was being nice to you…?
“I can put my anger aside to work together in this sense.” Momo squints her eyes at you.
There it is.
“HA! Your anger? What could you possibly be angry about Momo? Me breaking up with your best friend because she treated me like shit and decided to only be my girlfriend when she wanted to? Or was it something else?” the sharpness of your tone and remarks catch her off guard, not expecting you to react the way you did.
“Wow, Sana was right…you really are a bitch.”
“Wow, you really are Sana’s best friend…can’t even think of a proper comeback, can you? Do you get mad when people stand up to you too?” rolling your eyes and sighing.
“You have my number. Text me when you’re less…whatever this weird defensive thing is.” turning and walking away for this weird situation you found yourself in.
Very happy to find your car, you slip into the drivers seat and take a deep breath. Unable to believe this was happening to you. She was pissed about what exactly?
“I guess it doesn’t matter.” said to yourself as you turn the key, sparking the ignition and driving off of campus to your apartment.
—
“I can’t fucking believe her.” pacing around your small shared apartment on the northside while Tzuyu is checked out and scribbling hearts with and initials, T+C to be exact.
Stopping in your tracks, you turn to face Tzuyu who is laying down on her stomach on the couch, kicking her feet and humming to herself.
“Tzu…are you even listening?” snarky in your question because you knew the answer was no.
“Of course! Momo sucks and Sana sucks. That’s the tldr.” going back to doodling her hearts in her notebook.
Scoffing at her, you plop next to her on the couch and turn on the TV. Grabbing your back pack and pulling out your laptop.
Time to make a list of the animals that you’d try to take pictures of, depending on what was out at the time. I was close to fall so the odds of a few different animals being visible was high.
The national park website was a nightmare to navigate, you click on a few different links and compile a list of what you should be looking for.
-***Otters*** (prevalent in national parks, should be able to find them easily- in or around the rivers)
-***Deer*** (also prevalent in parks, kind of everywhere so just…look?)
-***Black Bears*** (omnivores and should get picture from distance if seen)
-***Barn Owl*** (Not rare, but cute)
-***Maybe a leopard..?*** (super rare, less that 100 but what a dream that would be)
-***Whatever else we see***
Focused on your research, your phone startles you when it goes off. Looking down to see her name just the way you typed it when you first met.
***Momo:*** Hey, I’m sorry about today. [4:12pm]
***Momo:*** I know that this is awkward and I’m sorry for being passive aggressive. [4:13pm]
***You:*** It’s fine. [4:15pm]
***Momo:*** So…how do you want to do this project? [4:17pm]
***You:*** Well, I’m going to go camping in the mountains that we have our assignment in this weekend. Friday to Sunday. [4:20pm]
***Momo:*** Great, I’m coming with you. I’ll pick you up at 3pm on Friday. [4:23pm]
***You:*** Fine. [4:25pm]
Tossing your phone on the couch, you look over at Tzuyu who is still in her own little world, texting who you can only assume is Chaeyoung.
“Oh my god, Chaeyoung just asked me if I wanted to go to the beach with her!” screeched out over the movie playing in the background.
“…For the project?” coming across as bitter in the moment, stress getting to you more than usual.
“Well…I mean, yes. But think about what you wear to the beach…and also it’s the beach!” jumping out of her previous position to hop up and down in place.
Rolling your eyes, you stand up and gather your things, backpack, laptop, and phone before making your way to your room.
“I’m happy for you, Tzu” trying not to sound dismissive as you close the door behind you and put your stuff down next to your desk in the corner.
Taking a deep breath- you try to forget. Not just the Momo situation but what it brings up for you. All the thoughts about Sana rush back into your mind’s eye, remembering all of what she put you through and the harsh words exchanged when the unhealthy relationship was brought to a point.
A single tear falls from your eye, though this was a year ago…it still bothered you. It rewired the way you thought about relationships and life with others. It made you want to isolate as she would say some horrific things to you subtly and wore you down until you thought she was the only person who could truly love you for you.
It was heavy to carry on your shoulders.
Plopping down on the bed, you try to decompress a little bit. A few deep breaths just to try and focus yourself back on the present, but it failed.
Dissociating for the rest of the night seemed to be your body’s plan, trying not to hurt your own feelings by reliving the memories with Sana and the future anxieties about having to work closely with Hirai Momo.
—
“I think that is everything.” whispered to yourself, sifting through the few changes of clothes and the camping equipment you decided to bring with you.
Most of the bigger things were in the truck of your car. The small grill, the wood for the fire, and a a cooler for some food you were going to bring with you. The tents you were bringing are currently tangled in your back seat but you would sort that out while you wait for Momo to arrive.
Not putting it past her to just leave you high and dry, you wonder if she will actually show up. Besides, her best friend was flaky, why wouldn’t she be?
Bringing down your bags to the car, you see Tzuyu is already gone. Chaeyoung and her went to the beach about an hour down south and rented an Air B&B so they could stay the weekend and complete their project.
A smirk on your face, you wonder how much of the project they will actually do considering Tzuyu is head over heels for Chaeng and Chaeyoung seemed interested enough to pay for the rental on the beach, which wasn’t exactly cheap for a broke college student.
Looking at your phone, the time reads 2:17pm. Momo said she would be here at 3pm so you’ve got 45-ish minutes to untangle these tents. Arguably the most important part of camping.
Not even bothering to ask Momo if she was going to bring anything, you just assumed she wouldn’t so you packed just about everything you would need - she would probably be unbearable the entire time and just complain like a certain someone she was close to.
Rolling your eyes at this scenario, you keep tugging at the ropes and trying to undo the massive knots that built up and strengthened over the years of sitting in storage.
A honk startles you out of concentration.
Looking up, you see a black SUV in the parking lot behind you. Blonde bob in the driver’s seat subtly waving at you. Waving her to come over to you, you say nothing. Just point at the pile of supplies that will sustain you for the next few days.
“Do you want me to load this up while you…uh, untangle that?” shouted out the window of the car.
“No, I’ll help you.” putting the tent back in the back seat of the car and closing the door, planning on returning to that after everything was packed up in the car.
Momo turns the car off and gets out. She’s wearing a crop top and some cargo pants, a little out of character for her but okay…we are camping, after all.
She walks around the car to open the trunk, you can’t help but notice how toned she is. Her abs and arms are muscular…No, no. You can’t have those thoughts about her. This is Sana’s best friend, snap out of it.
Bringing a few duffle bags to the trunk, you toss them in the back. Momo grabs the cooler full of ice and various food items and puts it in the trunk without even wincing….damn, she’s strong.
Once everything was done, Momo closed the trunk and you both got in the car.
“Alright, are you ready?” looking over at you, she was trying to be polite though you had a hard time believing that.
“Yeah.” softly as you turn your attention to your phone and try to tune her out.
“Are you sure? Because we are going to be out in the middle of a national forest so I just want to make sure everything you want, you have.” the tone this comes with is more caring that snarky, which surprises you.
“I’m sure.” Looking up from your phone to give her the smallest smile you could, she returns the gesture and starts driving towards the park where you would spend the next few days together.
—
The drive was long with no talking between the two of you, grateful she had good taste in music at least, you can’t help but wonder if this is as awkward for her as it is for you. 2 hours of music you both enjoyed was a better start to this adventure than you anticipated.
You didn’t know Momo well, but you knew her well enough to know that you had a few things in common. Photography being the biggest one, but you’re now discovering that music taste is also something that you shared.
“I love this song.” softly to her as she turns into the park.
“Me too.” as she pulled up to the small building that blocks off the entrance and rolls her window down.
“Good Evening! Do you have a reservation?” the man dressed in all khaki cheerfully asks as you pull out your ID.
“Yes, it should be under L/n Y/n.” chiming in from the seat over and passing your ID to him.
“Great, give me one moment.” the man walks back to the office and does something on his computer before returning with a tag for the rearview mirror of the car.
“You ladies will be on lot 64! Please remember to throw away your trash and leave the site how you found it! Here is a can of bear mace, just in case as it is the season where they are preparing to go into hibernation. Please also remember to not leave any food out as that attracts them! Enjoy your stay!” the man taps the car lightly and waves you off.
Find the spot was tricky, the numbers were not in order at all but you managed. Happy to see the spot was a little deeper in the woods and closer to the trails than you thought it would be - you could take better pictures this way and it was secluded, which was always nice.
Momo put the car in park and hopped out. You took your time, putting the bear mace in the glove box, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes before getting out.
She’s already in the trunk, unloading things and putting them where she thought they would go.
Helping her in this task, you start setting up.
Placing the wood to the side and gathering some of the dry leaves from the trees around you, being sure to push them away from the fire pit before building up the wood so it would catch easier.
The silence between the two of you is awkward, wondering if there would be any reprieve to the tension of being out here with someone you only saw in a negative light.
“Hey Y/n…” the tone takes you off guard, it sounds concerned.
“Yes, Momo?”
“Did you remember to pack the tents you were untangling?” her brows are furrowed, glaring at you because she already knows the answer.
“…Shit.”
“Shit is right… Don’t worry, that’s why I told you I was driving.” turning around to face the trunk of her car, before crawling inside.
“What do you mean?” confusion paints a picture on your face as you walk over and watch her pull a latch on the back seats and push them down, they hit the front and end up at an angle.
“Well, your car is a car. This being an SUV, if it rained or got too cold or anything, we could just sleep in the back. Like a back up plan, you know?” jumping out, she walks over to the driver’s seat and scoots it all the way up, doing the same for the passenger seat.
The back seats slip down past the front seats and land flatly, creating a somewhat spacious area. There is a small handle located on the floor of trunk in the SUV, Momo tugs on the latch and you hear the bulky plastic click, opening up her spare tire compartment.
“Can you toss me the sleeping bags?” a hand reaching out to catch them while she holds the door open.
Doing as she says, you bring her the sleeping bags and watch as she tugs a massive king sized fleece blanket out from the compartment and close it.
“I’m going to get a fire going…” quietly as she rustles around with the bags, linking them together and getting tangled in them.
“K!” shouted back to you as she starts to lay them flat and spread them out to fit the entire back of her car and partially up the sides of the back doors.
Walking over to the fire pit that previously had your attention, shoving more of the dried leaves into the bottom and stacking them against the wood that was holding itself up. Sparking your lighter, you put the flame to the kindling and let it catch before backing up.
The fire took no time to roar in front of you, catching the logs quickly and creating a lovely source of heat.
“Wow, I didn’t know you were a boy scout.” Momo walked over and nudged you playfully.
Smirking at the comment, you catch yourself before she sees the pleasant reaction from you. Brows furrowing before a monotonous dry “whatever,” leaves your lips.
“I’m going to walk down this trail and see what we are working with…stay with the fire.” before grabbing your backpack with your camera equipment and scurrying away from her.
There was little daylight left but you needed some time away from her, you were going to follow the path so it’s not like you would get lost. You just wanted a breather and to scout the area that you were in for potential spots to get the pictures you needed for this project.
It was astounding to you that she was being so…civil, especially considering the interaction you had with her on campus just a few days earlier. Deep in thought with this, you walk down the path, leaves crunching under your feet.
Some how the deep thoughts turned into you remembering her abs…how chiseled they were…and her arm muscles and the way she carried all that equipment without even breaking a sweat. Unable to remove her from your mind, you were frustrated with yourself.
Of course she was attractive, she always was but you can’t help but see her in a different light now. Not even knowing if she resented you for the past, it seems like she’s willing to let go of whatever grudge she might have been holding onto and that settled your mind more than you anticipated.
The crisp fall air was lovely this time of year, just nice enough to wear a hoodie and some jeans and be comfortable.
Perfect for this adventure, even if it was with Momo…but was Momo who you thought she was?
Rustling behind you startles you, freezing in place as you try to gauge where the sound was coming from. Rotating your back pack, you pull your camera out of it very slowly so whatever was behind you didn’t hear or run away as it might be an opportunity to snag a picture.
The sounds of the twigs snapping behind you was light, nothing that would’ve been a threat to you, thankfully. Quietly turning in place, a deer reveals itself to you from behind the shrubs of the path you had just walked past.
Looking over at you, you stand very very still, not wanting to frighten the deer…thought it was definitely a buck, big points on the antlers that were velvety, typical for this time of year, though you had never seen it yourself.
Lifting your camera to angle the shot properly, you are sure to zoom in on his face and click. Capturing the stillness of him in a millisecond. He hears the camera go off and looks directly at you.
A bit of nervousness shivers through you as you make eye contact with the buck, not too sure about the temperament when they’re in this part of their natural cycle.
Despite this, you take a few more shots of him. He decides you are not a threat and simply carries on his way.
Flipping through the pictures you just took, there is one in particular of him looking directly at you that you fall in love with. Starting to walk back towards camp as the evening turns into night, you reach camp right as the last drop of sun sulks behind the hills.
“Hey, Momo. Look at this.” walking over to where she placed the chairs in front of the fire without looking up from your camera.
Being so proud of this picture, you feel an excitement to show someone who also loves this hobby as much as you do.
“Oh, wow! That’s an amazing picture! Especially with the colors, the balance of them across the screen is fantastic.” Momo looks up at you, catching your eyes in the process and offers a smile.
Smiling back at her for the first time without hesitation, a warm feeling bubbles in your stomach. Quickly realize that maybe she wasn’t so bad after all…but you were still apprehensive on getting close to her.
There is no harm in a little kindness, right?
“While you were gone, I made you some dinner.” Momo turns her attention back to the fire that had a metal grate with four legs placed on top of it that she must have brought with her because it was not in what you packed.
A pan set on top of it, using a utensil she flipped over a piece of meat that she took upon herself to cook for you.
“You…cooked me dinner?” sitting down in the chair next to her before she offers you a fresh plate of veggies and steak with gravy drenching both.
“Well…yeah, I know that we haven’t exactly gotten off on the right foot…so I thought this might be a nice peace offering?” shying away from you as you start to slice the perfectly cooked beef.
“I will say…This is very gourmet for camping.” laughing as you took a bite of what she offered you, it was delicious.
Eyes widened and then close, humming into the mixture of flavors that paired so well. Immediately digging into another bite as soon as you swallow the first.
“Yeah, well I like to eat good food so you have to know how to cook at least a little bit for that to be consistent.” giggling at your reaction to your first bite.
“Peace offering accepted!” shouted while goofily pointing your fork in the air before taking another huge bite.
“I had no idea…” speaking with your mouth full because it’s just that good.
“That you could cook…” chopping down and enjoying the flavors thoroughly.
“Like THIS.” pointing down to the plate and swallowing your second bite.
“I think there might be a lot of things you don’t know about me, Y/n…” softly spoken to you over the chewing of your food and the crackling of the fire.
“You’re probably right…it’s not like she would ever let us get close enough to learn personal stuff about each other…and you did keep to yourself a lot when I was around.” thinking back, it was always weird how Sana kept you to herself.
Sure, you went to parties with her and out to dinner with her and friends, but anytime you struck up a conversation with anyone that wasn’t her, she would interject and try to get your attention.
Being blinded by her love bombing, you didn’t think it was for any reason in particular but you were now realizing that it might have been to keep you separate from those she held close so she could warp the narrative in her favor…
“She told me you broke up with her because you fell in love with someone else.” Momo recalled timidly.
“Sana said that you basically told her to fuck off because you wanted to sleep around and be with other people…she called me crying the night you broke up with her about it.” tensing at the memory, you freeze at the false claim spoken to you bashfully.
Blinking multiple times, you look at Momo in confusion.
“What?” the infliction of your words showed that they were essentially false, but you felt the need to defend yourself.
“That’s not true at all…I told her that I wanted to feel like a priority and not an accessory and if she couldn’t do that then I wanted to end things. She tried to justify the way she treated me but she couldn’t because she knew I wasn’t asking for too much. So I ended things. There wasn’t anyone else involved at all.” a single tear rolls down your cheek, reflecting Momo’s shock at the way you had been painted to her.
All this time, Momo assumed that you were just a shit person, without knowing your side of the story. Why wouldn’t she believe Sana? After all, she was her best friend. There was no reason to question her story until now.
“I’m so sorry…I shouldn’t have assumed that what she said was the truth…” A genuine apology, a nervous one, but real care was placed in those words she gave to you.
“It’s okay…it’s not like you knew what was going on behind the scenes…” reassuring her that you didn’t blame her for reacting the way she did.
“I should’ve known something was up though, especially with the way you reacted to me talking about being angry with you when we first spoke on campus. That’s why I’ve been trying to be nice because I don’t think the person that she described would have reacted that way or said what you did.” Her eyes shift to the ground, seemingly lost in thoughts about the stories that Sana told you about her, a twinkle of something else shined through but she was still too unfamiliar to tell what that was.
“Hey, Momo.” standing up and placing the rest of your food down on the small table between the chairs you both sat in.
“Hi, I’m Y/n” sticking your hand out to offer her a handshake.
Momo giggles and stands with you, placing her hand in yours and shaking it firmly.
“I’m Momo, it’s nice to officially meet the real you.”
“The feeling is mutual. Fresh start?” offered to her to see if maybe there was a friendship that could be built with her.
“Fresh start.”
—
Spending the next few hours taking about life and finding common interests was surprisingly easy for both of you.
Photography and dance were her main passions, she transferred to the college you both attended due to moving over in the area and the photography program.
Telling her about your experience with Sana and why you moved out here, the photography program of course, and to just get away from your home town where everything was tainted with the lavender flavor of Sana.
“Everything reminded me of her, so I left to get away from it all. There was too much history there for me so I decided I wanted a clean slate.” nodding your head and yawning as midnight approached.
“I can understand that.” Momo stands up and starts burning the paper plates you had eaten off of in attempts to clean up a little bit.
“I think it’s about time we head to bed, no? It’s getting late and we should get up early tomorrow and explore.” kicking some dirt into the fire that was dying down to kill it faster as you stood up and stretched.
“It’s cold tonight, I’m glad you drove.” chattered through your teeth while grabbing a lantern and a charger to plug into the car so you could charge your phone.
“Go get comfortable, I’ll be there in a moment.” straightening up the camp site some more as you made your way to the trunk, hanging the lantern by the handle on a hook that was attached to the ceiling for some light.
Momo laid out the sleeping bags in an interesting way, connecting the two via a zipper a the bottom and still allowing them to over lap at the top, creating one queen sized sleeping bag. The big fleece blanket was folded over the top of the connected wind breaker like material to add an extra layer of warmth.
Crawling in, you took off your hoodie, folding it up and using it as a pillow. Laying your head down made your eyes heavy, wrapped in the warmth of the woman-made cocoon. Fighting your eyes to try and stay awake, you wanted to wait for Momo but it seemed the full stomach, the chirping of the crickets, and calmness of the night got to you quickly.
Dozing off for a moment, you sleep softly before the REM cycle hits. The SUV’s suspension gives Momo away no matter how quiet she was trying to be to not disturb you.
Shifting in your spot, you open your eyes halfway to see her crawl under the covers after closing the trunk and locking the car from the inside. She’s brought your camera and hers with her into the car.
“While you were sleeping, I saw a barn owl and got a really cool shot of it. I’ll show you in the morning.” yawning as she finishes her sentence, turning the electric lantern off and you both drift off to sleep.
—
The sun shining through the back window wakes you up, checking your phone- it’s 7:15am and Momo is sound asleep next to you looking peaceful and delicate while she rests.
Admiring her for a moment, you take in her visage and wonder how you could ever assume this person could be anything other than what she showed you she was last night.
Sitting up, you stretch - cracking your back and taking a deep breath in before sneaking the keys away from her silently and opening the trunk to try and slip out without waking her.
Successful in this, you leave the trunk open and make your way to the fire pit to start a fire and make some coffee. Bringing a metal pitcher with you, filling it with two bottles of water and some instant coffee, you let it simmer on the fire and take in the morning air.
It was crisp outside, you wondered if it was going to warm up any today when you remembered what Momo said while you were half asleep last night about the picture she took.
Sneaking over to the car, you grabbed both your camera and hers so you could see the shot of the barn owl that she had taken.
Going back to the seat in front of the fire and turning the camera on, you come across a few shots of the bird in a tree with pitch blackness in the background. The owl being a little over exposed but still a very detailed picture that was worth some praise.
Flipping through, it looks like Momo took a few different shots of this owl from different angles. Hitting the button several times, you find a candid picture of yourself in what seems to be mid-laughter with the fire in front of you.
When did she take this…? Last night while you were talking?
The camera is suddenly snatched out of your hands aggressively. Looking up to see an annoyed Momo plopping down in the chair and glaring at you.
“I never told you that you could look through my pictures. I could’ve had private things on here!” the irritation she was feeling reverberated off every rib in the cage of your chest, worried that you might have just ruined the friendship you just cultivated with her.
“Momo…I didn’t mean to violate your privacy, I’m sorry. I was interested in the photo of the owl…” not mentioning the candid picture she took of you when you weren’t paying attention, not wanting to make the situation worse.
“Please don’t do that again.” pouring herself a cup of coffee and standing up, she starts walking down the trail by herself.
Time for her to get away from you for a moment, just like you took your space yesterday. Not chasing after her, just allowing her to take the time she needed to cool off - no matter how much you wanted to fix things.
While you watch as she walks down the trail and around the bend, your mind wanders back to that picture. The one of you laughing and smiling at her, the way your eyes sparkled…
Physically shaking your head and trying to knock the thoughts out of your brain, you decide to just focus on the nature around you to escape the thoughts of Momo and the picture…even if it was only for a moment.
—
Momo returned within the hour, camera in hand and excitement on her face. Running over to you and crouching down next to the chair you were relaxing in, too thrilled with the contents of her camera for pleasantries.
“LOOK!” shouted with pure enthusiasm as she flips through her camera so you could see the screen.
The picture showed of a leopard sleeping in a tall tree. The shot was perfectly exposed, no over saturation or awkward angles. Just a perfect picture of a very large and very rare cat snoozing on a branch.
“Holy shit!” loudly exclaiming as your eye widened in surprise.
There were less than 100 of those leopards out in the wild and this picture was immaculate.
“Right?!” Momo is bouncing up and down like a child who just got ice cream, shimmying goofily in place and waving her camera above her head in sheer joy.
Admiring her with her guard down, you admitted to yourself that she was more than pleasant to be around - her authentic self was lovely.
“That’s an incredible picture…I think you actually should submit that to national geographic…not even as a joke.” happy that she wasn’t angry at you anymore.
Just being around her when she’s beaming like this was a treat in itself…the warmth returns in your stomach, the bubbling up of something you now recognized but didn’t want to admit.
“You think I should?” Stoping her victory dance and looking to you for some direction in the matter.
“Absolutely! Look at it, I mean they could use this in texts books and so many different things…Momo, you have to submit this. No question.” Looking at the picture of the camera in her hand again, but you could feel her eyes on you.
“But do me a favor…be careful, please. I know you can probably fend for yourself but there are very dangerous animals around here and I don’t want you to get hurt…okay?” Gently spoken to her with care that had never threaded your words before.
Looking up, your eyes lock - there’s a bit of tension but it wasn’t the resentful tension that previously laid between the two of you a few days prior.
This was very different.
Momo’s eyes soften, half lidded in the way that she held your gaze.
Heart thumping in your chest when you realize what the tension is - this has sparked some panic in you.
Feeling the tips of your fingers quiver, you break the eye contact and kick the fire out. Grabbing your own camera that hung off the side of your chair, you walk up to Momo and smile.
“Well, we’ve got another full day here, why not explore a little together?” cocking an eyebrow at her before starting off down the trail with great haste, trying to out run the sparkling shiny feelings that would soon catch up to you.
“I think there’s a river up north a ways, why don’t we go see what we can find over there?” looking back to see her hurrying after you, blushing as she catches up.
There’s something here…you both feel it, right?
—
After walking and snapping pictures of the different flora in the area, you finally found what you had been looking for. 30 minutes of beautiful nature down the trail to find a crystal clear, calm river and the bridge that went over it where the trail continued on.
You and Momo walk down to the edge of the bank, looking over the water to see the fish swimming around along with a few otters underneath the bridge, holding hands to not get separated.
Nudging Momo with your elbow, she looks up at you in confusion. Putting your finger to your lips to keep her from speaking too loudly, you point over at the otters that were heading towards you - floating down stream lazily together, fast asleep.
Both of you grabbing your cameras, you snap pictures together. Both getting different angles and then making whisper suggestions to the other, ensuring not to wake up the sleeping water puppies - but then you get an idea.
“Hold this a second” hushed toned, handing her your camera before removing your shoes and socks.
Stripping your pants and shirt off so you’re just in your underwear, you take a step into the water and shiver for a moment.
Momo is beat red, trying not to look you up and down as you snatch your camera back from her and wade into the cold water to get a closer look at the otters and get a better shot of them.
Flush red, speechless, and completely taken off guard would be a very mild way to put what was currently happening to Momo. Her jaw was on the floor, her hands were sweating and she was shaking to take pictures of the otters from the bank.
Turning around and giggling at her, you wave to her to get her to come into the water with you. Waist deep and already snapping shot, she joins you in her sports bra and underwear, sheepishly.
“Don’t be so shy.” whispered to herself as she tries to get a clean shot of the otters, you find this to be adorable.
Unaware that you heard her, you look at her and realize that maybe that’s what the tension was. Maybe she just found you attractive and was unsure how to express it. Maybe it’s because you were Sana’s ex…maybe she didn’t want to cross boundaries… or maybe she didn’t care what you used to be and only really cared about who you are now.
But were you bold enough to make a move?
Was she bold enough for that? Seems like she might need a little encouragement.
That’s the question you asked yourself when your eyes lifted from your camera and you saw what could potentially be the scariest thing you have ever seen.
A massive black bear.
Not just any black bear though, a mama bear and her two cubs - seemingly having the same idea that you had.
Taking a dip on a nice day.
Stepping back slowly, you don’t think that they had seen you yet. Grabbing Momo’s arm you pull her, trying to get her to move without causing a panic.
“One second, I think I’m getting close to the shot I want.” whispered at you, completely oblivious to what was going on around the two of you.
“Momo, there isn’t time…take a step back. Now.” sternly breathed back to her.
“What are you tal- oh shit.” finally realizing the danger you both were in as she followed your movements backwards cautiously, without arguing further.
Slowly getting out of the water and making as little sound as possible, you grabbed your shoes and clothes, not bothering to put them on and crept back to the trail.
Momo slipped her pants and shoes back on while you snuck over to the bridge to see what the bears were doing and if they caught on to the fact that you were so close to them.
The cubs were playing around and splashing in the water and it looks like mama bear was just wading in the shallows, looking for some food - no doubt.
Utilizing the camera, you zoom into the cubs, framing them as best you could and snap a few pictures of them playing.
“They’re so cute.” coming from behind you, startling you.
Turning around to face the voice, you watch as she stands next to you. That’s when you fully realize how stunning Momo actually is.
The water that soaked her bra was dripping down her stomach, following the curves of her abs in a way that made you swallow every rude moment you ever said to her, the guilt weighing heavy in your stomach.
Momo was too distracted by the bears to even notice you gawking at her, so you took a step back and slipped your clothes on again, leaving your shirt off to try and dry out your bra.
She leans against the wood of the bridge with her head resting in her palm, admiring the cubs playful demeanor and sighing at the cuteness that they displayed, splashing around without a care in the world while mom kept watch.
Pointing your camera at her, you took a photo.
One single photo.
You’d argue it was the most perfect one.
“Are you ready to head back to camp?” inquired without looking in your direction, still looking in adoration at the creatures dancing in the water.
“I’d say so. I think we have all the pictures we need for the project too…so we could leave tonight if you want…” even with the suggestion, you could feel the knot of regret in your stomach.
Not really wanting to leave, you were enjoying this time with her - even if you didn’t want to admit it to yourself, let alone her.
“No, we should stay. You did pay for the two nights so we might as well use them! Plus, who knows what else we can see while we are here.” looking to you and offering a soft smile.
On the way back to camp, you are lost in your thoughts. Trying to organize your brain about this situation you find yourself in. Your ex girlfriends best friend…who you’re spending time with and actually enjoying spending time with…who can cook and likes to take pictures…who is adventurous…and also wildly attractive…
Oh boy.
It snaps into your mind like a rubber band shot across the room, a flash of lightening igniting your entire nervous system into flames and disintegrating you into a complete pile of chemically compounded dust.
You like her.
You romantically like her.
“Well, shit.” unintentionally out loud for the entire forest to hear, Momo included.
“Is everything okay?” stopping in her tracks and checking in with you.
“Yes, yes. Everything is fine. I was just lost in thought.” trying to avoid the conversation entirely as you weren’t really sure if you were ready to tell her your new intel about this crush you now have on her.
“Are you sure? I’m here for you…if you want me to be.” turning to face you and placing her hand on your upper arm.
Swooning was an understatement.
Her touch was like that of a thousand suns burning your skin all at once, the warmth, the care and the undivided attention of her left you wondering what it would’ve been like if you actually got the chance to get to know her before Sana.
If you would’ve dated, or had more positive interactions.
If her judgement of you wouldn’t have been warped by someone else’s lies.
“Thanks Momo…that means a lot coming from you.”
She offers a smile and you both continue walking back to camp with you still completely lost in the “What ifs”
—
This night was similar to the last, Momo made dinner again, similar to the night before but with a little twist. You broke out a bottle of tequila and some pineapple juice you had tucked away and you drank with her and shared some of your fondest memories from your childhood.
She shared with you the asperations of her life, how she wanted to be a professional photographer and that she actually would prefer to shoot models and fashion but really enjoyed the photography you guys did together on the trip.
The drinks were working on you, loosening you up and making you more carefree. Allowing her to know the real you was not as tough are you thought, thank you tequila.
Building up the courage, you finally ask her a question that had been burning on your mind since you saw the proof this morning.
“Hey, Momo? Can I ask you something?” apprehensive even with the alcohol in your system.
“Of course, you can ask me anything.” taking a swig of her drink and a bite of the meal she made for the two of you.
“Why did you take that picture of me last night?”
Momo freezes, it was very obvious that she was not expecting that to be the question you were going to ask.
Taking another big swig of her drink, polishing the glass off before looking at you and placing her elbows on her knees, clasping her hands together - she took a deep breath and what came next, shocked you.
“Do you want the truth?” voice shaky while she builds up her courage.
Unable to help but admire how adorable she is when she’s nervous, you try to break the tension she’s holding within herself.
“Lie to me.” laughing as you say it.
Momo cracks a smile and then takes one more deep breath.
“I’ve had a crush on you since before you and Sana dated.”
“What?”
“Yeah, I saw you in the halls at school and thought you were so beautiful…I stupidly pointed that out to her and she decided to go after you. That’s why she never let us get close…that’s also why her and I are no longer close…” exhaling after the sentence to relieve the stress.
Everything now makes sense, the dinner, the way she made the bed in the trunk, the making sure she spent time with you on this project and the most important thing being that comment she made about her anger…she was never angry at you, only angry at the situation and the judgement you placed on her because of Sana.
“…I had no idea…I thought you hated me because of what happened between Sana and I…I didn’t realize…”
“I know you didn’t…but don’t beat yourself up about it…It’s not like she told you and it’s also not like I told you either.” There was a comforting shift in her voice, no longer shaking as she tried to sooth you for the information you hadn’t previously had.
Grabbing your camera that was hanging on the side of your chair, you turned it on quickly and went to the gallery, finding that picture you took of her and passing her the camera.
Momo’s jaw dropped, staring at the picture and realizing when you took it.
“Can I tell you something?” offered to her in exchange for the vulnerability shared to you previous.
“Of course,” another deep breath as she braces for the truth.
“Remember when I said “well, shit” earlier?”
Her eyes perk up.
“Yeah?”
“It’s because I realized that I like you…”
Even you’re shocked by what just came out of your mouth.
Did you really just admit that?
“…really?” inquired in the smallest voice, never thinking Momo could sound so timid, despite seeing some moments of it previously.
“Yes…once I lost the image that Sana put in my head of you, and stopped assuming you would be like her…Once I really got to know parts of you, I realized that I wanted to learn more and more about you.” shying away from her gaze on you as you carried on with your statement.
“I…don’t know what to do with myself.” Momo blurted out between nervous glances at you.
She’s so cute like this, you really can’t help yourself.
Standing up and taking a big step so you were in front of her you reach down to cup her face. Leaning in, you taste the drink you made for her off her lips.
Drunk from alcohol or Momo’s soft lips against yours, you were not sure but you were feeling dizzy at the touch of her mouth on yours. Soft pecks that were laced in sweet subtle movements and the pinning for more of her in everyway, already addicted to the feeling of her skin on yours.
Breaking apart from the kiss, you watch her lick her lips and that releases something within you that you hadn’t felt in a long time.
Yearning, wasn’t the word.
It was a violent want.
An aggressive need.
Though you both had been drinking, would it be a silly idea to see if she was interested in pushing this way past a kiss?
Maybe it was better to wait?
“If you kiss me like that again…there might be an issue.” Momo finally speaks up between your inner monologue, standing up and getting so close to your face that your noses touch.
“Oh yeah? How so, Ms. Hirai?” poking a little fun at her, giggling as she wraps her arms around you, and leans into you.
“Maybe I’ll show you on a night where we haven’t been drinking.” whispered in a sultry tone into your ear making you melt in every single way possible.
“Fine!” scrunching your nose in protest and stomping off playfully back to your seat.
Momo chuckles and follows you, sitting on your lap like it’s always been her seat and resting her body against yours.
“I’m getting sleepy, the anxiety of today was a lot.” yawning in confirmation that it was a shared tired.
“Why don’t you go and get comfortable? I’ll take care of everything out here.”
“Let me help.” in a half asleep argument.
“No, go get cozy! It’s cold so you have to warm up the sleeping bag.” rubbing her back gently to further her sleepiness.
Mindlessly getting up, she starts walking over to the trunk and strips her shirt off on the way. You’re, of course, watching her as she walks. She reaches behind her and unclips her bra, exposing her bare back to you.
Turning her head back to you and winking before crawling into the trunk.
This brings a need to do everything as hastily as possible so you can go a lay down with her, wondering if you would be able to even sleep next to her now that she was completely bare from the waist up.
Kicking dirt over the fire to put it out, you notice the sheer coldness that had crept in while you were sitting next to the blaze.
Scanning the site to make sure everything was put away well enough to go to sleep, you grab the keys and the cameras before heading to the trunk where Momo was laying under the covers with the lantern on and shivering.
“I-it’s s-so c-c-cold!” Teeth chattering as she watches you crawl in and close the door.
Slipping the cameras and keys into the front seat, you take off your shirt and crawl under the covers with her, flicking the light off and getting comfortable.
“Come here.” Pulling her closer to you so your body heat would help warm the two of you up.
Scooting into her, she rolled over and lay her head against your chest. The sting of her iced touch lingers for a moment before you feel her thawing out. Running your hand over her back a few times to try to conduct friction to bring her temperature up faster so she can be more comfortable.
Very quick to realize she still wasn't wearing a shirt, you tugged the sleeping bag over her shoulders as well as the fleece blanket to trap the heat, and to save yourself from the tipsy mindset of wanting more than just a kiss.
“Did you just cover my shoulders more?” Laughing into your chest as she realized what you did.
“I’m simply preserving your warmth, Momo!” Kicked back to her but she already knew you were lying.
Heart beating a million miles a minute as her chest was pressed against your stomach, feeling her nipple against your skin and her fingers tracing lightly on your back sent you into a spiral of trying not to go completely feral.
Laying with each other in the back of Momo’s SUV was not something that you thought would ever happen, but you’re very very glad it was happening.
Leaning down, you kiss the top of her head and try to pull her ever closer.
“Feeling warmer?” cooed to her.
“Yes, now I’m cozy.” Nuzzling into you and holding you tighter.
“Good”
Momo tilts her head back and extend her lips out to you, asking for a good night kiss to seal the deal on everything that had happened in the past few hours.
You quickly comply and play with her hair as she falls asleep in your arms.
—
Birds chirping loudly in the trees nearby tug you out of your dreams and into the Sunday morning that was upon you.
Rolling over you notice that the trunk is open and you can smell the campfire going.
Momo is awake already.
Sitting up and stretching your arms out, you rub your eyes before scooting out of the cabin and letting your feet hang outside the trunk, sitting up while you take in the autumn morning.
“Good Morning, sunshine.” Momo walks over with a cup of coffee and a smile, offering you the cup and kissing your cheeks.
Taking a sip of the warmth in a mug, you notice that Momo is wearing your shirt.
“Cute shirt, where’d you get it?” Pointing at it before sipping the coffee again.
“Oh you know, this girl I have a major crush on…I stole it from her. But don’t tell her! It’s a secret.” Lifting her finger up to shush you lightheartedly.
“Is this girl your girlfriend? Should I tell her that we kissed? She won’t be happy about that!” Winking at her and matching her silliness.
“She is not my girlfriend, but she should be…Maybe I should take it off then? So she doesn’t get jealous?” Lifting the hem of her shirt up slowly over her stomach before tugging up and taking it off, revealing her breasts to you with barely any warning.
Stunned at the sight you have practically woken up to, you scan her up and down and watch as she brings herself closer to you, placing one hand on each of you knee and spreading them apart so she can get in between them.
“We are sober now…” kissing your cheeks before lifting your face to meet hers.
“No one’s around, I haven’t seen anyone drive by since we’ve been here…” another kiss, this one on the lips and deeper than any one you had shared before.
Hands finding their way to her waist as you pull her closer to you, trying to fill in the space between your bodies as any space between you was too much.
Tongues starting to dance with each other as things picked up, Momo reaches behind you, unhooking your bra and throwing it to the front of the car.
Guiding you onto your back by pushing your shoulders, she ushers you up and gets you to scoot inside farther so she could have more space to crawl on top of you.
“I’ve waited for this…” a kiss to your neck renders you incapable of focusing on anything but her.
“…For so fucking long…” dragging her mouth down to your chest and a tongue flick to your nipple make you arch your back and whine softly, hand trailing up and gripping her hair as she descends the length of your body.
“…and I will have you…” kissing down your stomach and to the waistline of the shorts you wore, tugging on them, removing your underwear with them, and placing them to the side.
“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” Dragging her mouth down your hips, grazing her teeth against your skin so gently but it ignites the hostile craving that was put on the back burner last night.
Never in a million years did you think you’d be in this position with Hirai Momo but here you were with her now wrapping her arms around your thighs and laying gentle soft pecks down until finally her tongue swipes your slit causing a jolt from your hips and a guttural moan from your lungs.
“So what do you say, baby? You gonna be good for me and let me eat my breakfast in peace?” Seductively before another tender lick from your entrance to your clit renders you in capable of formulating any words other from “fuck” and “yes please.”
“Good girl.”
Momo kept her tongue against you, writing unspoken poems of the care and attraction she had for you for all these years against the most sensitive parts of you, taking her time and making sure to lick every single drop of slick off your folds.
Though she was slow in her movements, every ounce of pleasure she gave you was so divine and delicious, it left you yearning and pinning for more like you had finally quenched your thirst after years without a single drink.
Unable to keep still underneath her as she spells out how much she’s wanted this with her mouth, you mewl and whine for her, thrusting your lower body up while your hands wandered to the back of her head in attempts to pull her closer to you.
A finger teases your entrance, dipping the first knuckle of her pointer finger inside of you causing you to rock your hips softly, showing her exactly what she was looking for.
“You want my fingers inside you, don’t you?” Only removing her mouth for a second to tease you with the thought.
Only being able to hum in agreeance, you try to say yes with thrusting your hips down. She brings her left arm up and across your pelvis, pinning you done into place to keep you still.
“Beg.” stern in tone but somehow still drenched in need for you as she removes her finger and waits.
“Momo, *please.* I *need* to feel you insi-”
Before you could even finish the sentence, her fingers spread your folds apart and her tongue dips into you.
One.
Two.
Three times, before returning back to gradually circling your clit, her lips visibly coated in your essence and her eyes hungry for more.
Bringing her finger back to where you wanted it, she slowly glides it inside of you and presses up against your G-spot while gently building up the pace of her tongue around your most sensitive area.
“*Momo… oh, fuck..uhngh”* moaning for her and only for her, you would be happy to exist in this context for as long as possible but you need and wanted more.
Leaning up on your elbows, she sees you look at her and makes half lidded eye contact with you while her tongue does all the talking. Allowing her to taste you for a moment longer before you slip a hand under her chin and detach her mouth from you.
Momo reaches over to her camera without removing her finger from inside you. Turning it on with one hand and angling herself for the perfect shot, her thumb graces over you lightly, causing you to squirm.
“Is this okay?” Before focusing the camera on your body.
Nodding your head, you spread your legs wider for her so she can get the full image of how your body reacts to her.
A few clicks and she turns her camera off, placing it back where it was on the bed and tries to lean back into you.
You had other plans.
Taking her finger out of you, she has the look of confusion on her face. Lifting her finger up to your mouth, you suck your own slick off of it and pull her fully into the trunk.
“Close the door.” quietly and seductively, you hand other plans for her.
Already so weak for you that she immediately does what she’s told, you smile and cock an eyebrow at her, wondering how far you could get her to go with such requests.
“Take your pants off.” orders given and followed, she strips her pants off quickly, leaving her in a black thong.
Watching and she tugs on her black stringed waist band, you can see a string of her slick attached to the fabric and she removes it.
Clenching at the sight of her being just as aroused as you, you’re quick to maneuver yourself to sit on her thighs and wrap your legs around her.
Dripping onto her legs from how badly you want her, she smirks at you before her hand descends and returns to your pussy, thrusting two fingers in this time and pressing upwards.
Hissing out of pure pleasure, you drape one arm around her neck and the other slips between her legs so you can rub her clit while she’s inside you.
Eye contact between your mutual grunts of pleasure rattle the car windows, feeling the suspensions bouncing and help you with the rocking of your own hips, you bring your face so close to hers - noses touching and rubbing against each other before you bring your hand to the back of her head and pull her into you for an open mouthed kiss.
Being able to taste yourself off her tongue sent you reeling, moaning into her mouth while her free hand trails up your sides and slithers over to your stomach before ascending up to your neck, wrapping her fingers around your throat and gripping it tightly.
“Such a slut for me…” growling into your mouth as you gasp against her lips.
“Look how fucking wet you got when I started choking you…would you drip this way if I tied your hands behind your back too?”
*Oh fuck.*
Her fingers are moving faster now, palm against your clit as you buck your hips into her creating a mess of her entire hand and her legs beneath you.
Barely even cognoscente from the knot rapidly building in your stomach, you slip two fingers into her and begin giving her the same speed and pressure she was giving to you.
Momo’s moans did you under, the gratification of her losing her “mean domme” demeanor by your touch was enough to put you right at the edge.
All you needed was a little push.
Clenching around her fingers, moaning into her with your fingers tangle in her hair and soaked from her pussy - you whimper at her and she knows.
“Is my good girl going to- *fuck, baby -*cum for me?” fingers picking up momentum when she feels her own climax creeping up on her.
Nodding your head before placing your face into her neck and biting down hard as you release all the tension that had built up in the few days that you spent with her, coming completely undone around her fingers.
The bite from you has her blissed out while your fingers piston haphazardly inside her, you clenching around her fingers and moaning into her causes Momo’s own ecstasy to drown her in a paradise that she had never felt before.
Both of you riding out your own orgasms on each other’s fingers, thrusting your hips into each other and causing the car to rock back and forth rhythmically.
Both of you slowing down your movements and sharing a few soft pecks, she lays down flat on her back with you on top of her - both of you panting and gasping for air.
Tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear, she kisses you again before removing her fingers from you and slipping her pants back on but remaining shirtless while you just held each other for a while and enjoyed the moment.
“So…what happens when we get back?” there’s fear in Momo’s voice when the question slips between her teeth.
“What do you mean?” brows furrowed like you weren’t naked in the back of her SUV after having fucked in the middle of no where.
“I mean…I don’t know, are you looking for something with this?” voice shaking and reminding you of earlier, the nervousness of rejection is very loud in her.
“I mean…are you?”
“With you, yes.” no hesitation on her end at all.
Smiling at her, you sit up and tug her with you.
“Momo…”
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to be my girlfriend?”
“Oh…I uhm….yes.”
Tackling her to the floor and peppering her face with kisses - you didn’t even need to think about what you wanted - her.
Giggling at your actions, you both sigh and just lay with each other for another moment.
“Not to break this lovely moment we are having, but what time is check out?” sitting up and throwing your shirt on to cover up, leaning down to kiss your cheek before opening the door.
“Uhm….noon, I think?” rolling over and grabbing the hoodie you had been using as a pillow and tossing it on before slipping your own bottoms back on.
“Okay, I’ll start packing up.” grabbing the stuff she brought to cook with and packing it away in the bag she must have brought them in.
“Hey Momo?”
“Yeah?”
“Would you…want to stay the night at my house tonight?” eyes shifting as you ask from sheer nervousness.
Already having spent so much time together this weekend, you weren’t really ready to separate just yet. You truly hoped she would share that sentiment.
Momo places the bag of cooking equipment into the truck, walks over to you and faces you. Grabbing your hands and raising them up to kiss your knuckles and then your lips and smiles.
“I would love to…plus I want to know what happened between Tzuyu and Chaeyoung this weekend, Chae’s got the biggest crush on her so hopefully it went well.”
“No way…Tzuyu has been crushing on Chae the entire year!” exclaimed as you started gathering the chairs and moving the left over wood to the back of the campsite for another camper to use when they arrived.
“Seriously?!” gasped at the statement you just made.
“Yes!”
“Well we better pick up a bottle of wine before we get back to your house then!” grabbing the bag of trash you had compiled over the weekend and bringing it to the SUV so you could dispose of it before leaving.
Hopping in the car after packing everything up, you start the drive home with your new girlfriend, hand in hand. The two hour ride felt like 10 minutes, just talking about life and classes, the project and how you both wanted to set everything up for it.
Looking over at her as she pulls into your complex, you realize how excited you are about this new phase of life you’re about to embark on, with her intertwined in all aspects.
Who knew that this unexpected weekend would turn out to be something so absolutely pleasant.
#momo imagines#momo fluff#momo x reader#momo smut#momo angst#momo thoughts#hirai momo#momo save me#twice x reader#twice imagines#kpop x reader#twice smut#kpop imagines#wlw#hirai momo x fem!reader#momo x fem!reader#momo x fem reader#hirai momo x reader#hirai momo scenarios#hirai momo imagine
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JAKAJWIH I just saw this post and https://www.tumblr.com/citrusbunnies/732151502028898304
I can’t help but imagine deer!hybrid reader that’s with 141, and they/she/he (it doesn’t matter lol) walked out of the bushes or woods to the team inside and their reaction to it!
Also I LOVE your work, every time I see that you have posted wether it be recently or if they are older and they just appear in my feed. I get excited! 😭 also if you don’t wanna do this, feel free to ignore COMPLETELY! I just saw this and I thought it was so cute😭😭
That deer image is actually funny… this drabble though, not so much.
Doe Cw: hybrid, DARKFIC, IMPLIED DUB-CON/NON-CON, kidnapping, training, implied sex, tell me if I missed any.
They cued in on the rustling sound, bushes ruffling against an unknown body hiding behind the tree line, moving as if they were unaware of the men or uncaring of danger. Rifles pointed towards the source, Price held control of the situation, aware of the danger when hunting feral hybrids. Ferals were unpredictable, unable to find the distinction between friend or foe, but they were smart, cunning and weren’t shy to group together, forming hunting packs. Those that were impossible to rehabilitate would stay in the wild, some causing trouble and others keeping to themselves, living alone or in a community they built on their own.
Despite the trepidataion and tension in their shoulders, the waited, breaths steady and unyielding to the harsh winds of early winter. They expected a wolf - or a few - or a bear to jump at them, but were released to see antlers poking out of the bush, tines interlocked with green and dried leaves still tied to a thin branch, followed by perked ears, rounded ends flicking against the leafage stuck around the antlers. A head soon followed, big, doe eyes with the dilated, rounded pupils staring at them with timid curiosity, uncertain of the danger.
Rather than a big brown bear or a deranged grey wolf, they found a curious deer hybrid. Price raised his fist, ordering the three of them to lower their weapons, holding it to his chest, he took a step towards you, slow and tentative. You jerked back, body moving out of your hiding place, fully exposing yourself to men —men deprived of the gentle touch of a woman and the loving embrace of one. You wore rags, hanging off the small straps of your shoulder and stopped mid-thigh, soft and plush skin; your dress hugged the promiscuous curves of your hips and the swell of your breasts and ass, leaving nothing to their imagination. You were a sight to hungry and deprived men like them, gruff and overworked, tired and wanting a moment of reprieve to relax and work off the stress.
“Hello,” it hadn’t crossed his mind whether or not you spoke, seeing that you were dressed in nothing but rags despite looking clean and untouched by filth, simply delicious to their eyes. “I’m John,” he gave you a smile, his eyes creased and cheeks wrinkled, his lips stretched under his bear-like beard, “Who are you?”
His softer approach made you compliant, mumbling out your name in a soft voice. You were skittish, looking as if a single abrupt movement would have you buck away from them, and they couldn’t have that, you were a source of information and much more. Soft curves and doe-eyed filled with a sort of innocence, able to thrive in the wild with feral hybrids, ye untouched by their rough and untamed character.
“Who… who are they?” Your eyes gazed over the three men behind Price, hands pulled to your chest in an effort to give yourself comfort and protection against the dark gleam in their brown and blue eyes.
“That’s Soap,” your eyes followed his hand, hovering towards the men with striking, blue irises and a weird haircut. “Gaz,” he motioned towards the man with warm, brown skin and a pretty face. “And Ghost,” he was the most intimidating, broad and big, it made you shudder. “What are you doing here?”
The question lingered in the air, you frowned, seemingly unwilling to divulge your reason because you had the same question, wanting to know why big, armed men were threading in your home. You looked away, staring at their feet rather than their strong gaze, feet shuffling around. They watched you bite your lip, pearly whites peaking under your lip to sink down in your glossy lips, perfect for kissing. How would you taste if they got their hands on you? Would your mouth taste as sweet and delicious as you looked? You were temptation on two feet.
“This is my home,” you reluctantly told them, becoming more anxieties by the second. It seemed like you were waiting for the right moment to skip away, to rush through the forest and hide away from the men who had a sudden interest in you. “You?”
“Classified, love.”
You perked up and shied away at the way he called you, his rumbling voice turning soft and disarming, near becoming for a sensitive hybrid like you. You were so adorable when you acted all shy, ears flicking and little nose scrunching up. You were naturally wary of anyone as a prey animal, vulnerable and without claws or sharp teeth against anything bigger than you. They could all see the tension building in your body, ears backed against your head and fingers fumbling around, his voice might’ve soothed you, but his reply made you fearful, suspicious enough to look more and more like you were going to flee.
If you ran, they would follow, Ghost would probably the one to catch you first, surprisingly fast and nimble for someone of his stature. He’d tackle you to the ground, scruff you and hold you down despite your wails and take you back, you had something they needed. Ghost would do the training, prepping you however he deemed fit and punish you if you lashed out. Gaz and Soap could easily break you in, their gentler countenance working in their favour. A push and pull, essentially, with Soap’s puppy-like aggression and mischievousness, and Gaz’s gentle care and grounding hand. Price would keep you in check, sometimes overseeing Ghost’s training and other times participating in it, being the disapproving and sympathetic one when faced with Ghost’s cruel and degrading ways.
You were pretty in rags - you would look pretty in anything you wore - but you’d be the prettiest naked and stuffed on their laps, eyes rolled back and breasts jostling. Taking you would take care of their needs, the temptation pulsing in their crotch. You wouldn’t mind it, would you? It would be better than sleeping on the rough, forest terrain, victim to both nature and the wilderness. You would be protected and taken care of, what else would you want?
“Why don’t you come with us, love,” it wasn’t an offer, it was a demand —an order.
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#tw: dark content#dark content#tw: hybrid#hybrid reader#hybrid!au#hybrid au#cod mw2#x reader#simon ghost riley#cod mw2 x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost mw2#soap mw2#john soap mactavish#soap x reader#captain john price#price mw2#john price x reader#gaz mw2#gaz kyle garrick#gaz x reader#task force 141 x reader#task force 141#poly 141#tw: kidnapping#tw: noncon#tw dubcon
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