#why was the hardest one ONCE UPON A MATTRESS

[lucat13]

That Broadway Jeopardy category was stupidly easy. You know what would have made it harder? Assassins. It’s even double letter.

[gojo-rot]

Not twice.

paring: vlad dracula tepes x fem!reader

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A/N: as Dracula’s second wife, he won’t let the same mistake he made happen twice.

IDEA FROM alucards-gf credit to them because all I did was make my own version of it which is still similar to theirs!

it was late and your fiancée was still absent from your bed, it was always cold without him so you set off to find him. You eventually came across him in his study, sat in the dim light provided by the fireplace which was seemingly always lit.

“ vlad, darling.. are you coming to bed?”

you asked, voice echoing through dracula’s study as you stood in in the doorway, your left arm barely caressing the frame.

His head perked slightly at the soft echo of your voice, his crimson eyes peering back at you before turning back to face the fire. A quiet hum left his lips before he answered your question. “ yes dear i’ll be up shortly, I just have some things to attend to first.”

You couldn’t help but frown upon his words, your eyes falling down to your feet as your hand slid up to rub your arm comfortingly. “ at this time?” You asked taking a few steps closer to Dracula so that you were stood beside his arm chair, your hand now resting atop his shoulder as your nightgown hung nicely from your frame: your body basking in the warmth of the fire roaring within the fireplace.

Vlad stayed silent for a moment, only another mere acknowledging hum leaving his lips at your second question of the night. “ it’s late my beloved we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow, you should get some rest.” He said as if he didn’t hear your previous question even if you knew definitely he did.

“ you didn’t answer my question honey.” You commented, the hand that you had placed on his shoulder now rubbing small circles against it with your thumb.

Drac spared you another glance his red eyes looking through you, a thoughtful glimmer within them. A little sigh made it’s way past his lips before he rested his chin upon one of his palms. “ please go and get some rest my love?..” He asked the pleading undertone within his voice making him hard to deny. You leaned towards him before planting a sweet kiss upon his cheek your lips lingering there for a few uninterrupted seconds before you pulled away again. Within the next minute you had left his study, heading back up the spiral stairs where you had once came down to reach him.

Another frown tugged at your lips as you reached your bedroom. You quietly pushed the door open and settled yourself back down into the mattress that lay cold without your fiancée’s presence beside you. You couldn’t understand why he kept so much secret, and even when he chose to indulge you on the odd occasion you’d receive the most vague answer you thought possible. Your understanding of vampires and their common behaviours was limited, there unfortunately wasn’t a guide manual on how to perfectly understand them that you could just read to solve the current problems you were facing.

You laid in bed alone for what felt like hours, tossing and turning every few minutes while trying to put your mind at rest: but no matter how hard you seemed to try, your thoughts always subsided back to dracula. You just wanted to help him, to comfort him but you couldn’t do much if he didn’t let you. His behaviour almost mimicked that of someone who was scared, frightened of making some sort of mistake that they had before, desperate to try and do what was beneficial while also trying to hide their feelings.

You couldn’t stop the sight of that then protruded your lips as your eyes fell half lidded and heavy, no matter how much your body craved the sweet release of sleep you knew your mind wouldn’t switch of anytime soon. But..

Suddenly, your thoughts were cut short as your bedroom door reopened and you quickly closed your eyes, trying the hardest you could ever say you had to fake being asleep sleep. You heard the familiar unclipping rattle of your fiancé’s cape and the sound of it being draped over the bedside desk before you felt the covers being breifly lifted and the mattress sagging with a newly added weight.

You felt your mind slightly eased at the presence of vlad now being finally beside you, even if it took a while longer than you wanted. But no matter the fact that your fiancé’s body was now resting beside you, you still couldn’t settle, your mind was still full of questions and concerns.

‘ all I want to do is help him, if he just told me what was troubling him I could at least try to help..’

A low grunt was heard beside you before you hesitantly cracked an eyelid open to be met with Dracula’s features staring back at yours. “ You do realise that I can hear your thoughts, right love?” He asked, his tone carrying a conflicted hint which was somewhere in between mused and exhausted.

You felt your cheeks flush slightly before you reopened your eyes in defeat and frowned up at him: you had indeed forgotten that your beloved fiancé could in fact read minds. “ so you heard me then?” You asked, still curious about your prior thoughts and my your husband to-be was so eager to keep you at arms length about certain matters.

He nodded softly before turning back to look at you his crimson eyes piercing through your your soft hazel one. “ yes, I heard you.. and I can understand your frustrations with me.” Vlad told in a solemn tone that somehow soothed your mind in the usual charismatic way which he did.

He stayed silent for another few moments before sitting up and leaning himself back against the headboard of your shared bed causing the wood to groan beneath the added weight.

“ I’ve made many mistakes in my time and I don’t want to make the same ones twice.” As usual his tone somehow stayed mysterious, his words never changing from their standard poetic nature either. Each sentence that left his lips was like a brand new poem and it never failed to charm you.

Without warning he then took your hand in his, and for a split second you saw his face waver with a small amount of guilt.

“ I made the mistake of not turning my first wife, I have intended not to not make the same mistake with you.”

Your eyes widened at his confession, basking in the realisation that your fiancé wanted to turn you into a vampire which would explain his withdrawn and quiet behaviour recently. You didn’t really know what to say at first, you knew that the human’s your own kind had murdered Dracula’s last wife and you could only assume that he didn’t want the same happen thing to happen to you.

“ y-you want to turn me into a vampire?”

You asked the entirety of your voice filled with uncertainty at the matter. Vlad nodded again at your repetition of his own statement, his eyes closely watching your form as if he were stalking his prey.

“ If you want to be mine, I must, I will not make the same mistake twice.” By his tone it sounded more like he had already decided on it but you knew that he’d never do something as significant as that without asking for your consent before hand.

You looked Vlad in the eyes being met back with a cold stare that belonged not to a monster, but a man who was troubled and burdened by his past mistakes, a man that you loved deeply and would do anything for if it meant his worries would be put to rest.

You chewed on your bottom lip as you tried to come up with an answer semi quickly, not wanting to sound too reluctant due to a long pause caused from indecisive nerves.

“ you can turn me vlad.. if it’ll put your nerves to rest.” You agreed, a reassuring smile tugging at your lips as you saw a small glimmer of relief in Dracula’s eyes which was soon replaced by a smirk which sent a small shiver through your spine.

A mix of excitement and fear were now running tangent in your mind, as he drew himself slightly closer to you. “ then it’s settled, tomorrow, after the ceremony.” He clarified watching in slight amusement as he watched your emotions run wild within your mind.

At least you agreed.

[paul2287]

The Cowardly Prince

Laying in Bed, staring at the ceiling, the prince, who once felt like king, now feels like the waste of cattle which lay in the nearby field. The previous night, he did the most regrettable thing he had done in his life. He was scared, nervous, and one of his siblings had helped him reach this point, "if you're too scared to do it in person, ask in the form of paper, pass her a note, I'm sure she would love it."

he followed her instructions, passing her the paper, folded to fit in a pocket following that nights battle in the colosseum, the band had played their hardest, and did their best show this year, ever growing in length. He passed his note, not looking into her eyes, he couldn't, but he now feels this was a mistake. Riding the carriage, a raven landed upon the shaded window, a quickly wrote letter, he could tell it was from her own hand, the letter read.

"I feel that I’m not ready for your likeness"

These words rang through the prince’s head. His eyes grew swollen before pouring out with tears, the raven returned to their sender before returning. The prince read hopefully, yet this letter was no better, if anything, it made him feel worse.

"I feel as though it would be better if we were to continue talking,

Not as lovers but not as friends, yet you're more than a friend to me."

The prince read, this time, with anger, or was it sadness? The one person that had made his life colorful, instead of the infinite turning sun, which to his knowledge, shall never stop, made him cry once more, yet he made no sound, if he was to be seen crying over a matter, which seemed so trivial that even his servants wouldn’t bat an eye, would be blasphemy.

His own body seemed to assassinate him, his throat closing tighter to the point where he had to stop breathing at times. His eyes water, making him vulnerable. He begins to fall asleep, but he resists, he must stay awake incase another letter arrives, which the princess’s word regressing his previous statement. Yet none shall arrive.

As he reaches his destination, a gathering place of the royal families, he is forced to see his lover, who had once made him feel new, like the previous gray world had changed to a colorful assortment, a quilt which had been filled with her, and only her.

He rushed to gather his trinkets and other items, though due to the scanty size of the room, he had passed by her several times along his journey to his palace. As his home carriage arrives, he makes a brisk walk to it, whilst trying his hardest to keep his composure.

On the ride to his quarters, he was considering asking the choir to sing a song which would help him return to his previous life, but when he asked there was no choir, nor were there guards, or a driver, there wasn’t even a carriage. He sat in this space, wishing that something may happen to take his life, yet nothing had, and as he returned to his mattress, which had been stained purple to represent his royalty. Which now seems a shade of gray, along with the photos of the princess which hung along his walls and his personal book, which he would use to send her letters. His messenger eagle now appeared to form a vulture, awaiting for his passing.

The next morning, as the pale sun reached the arch of the edges of the earth, just to restart the cycle once more, yet time seemed slower somehow. He lay, and checked his bedside table, a letter lay from his sister.

"She just feels like she’s not the appropriate partner for you

With you never having even been through a relationship before."

But she was, she was his everything. The only reason why he practiced his instruments. The reason he worked on academics, the only reason the enlarged, bloated prince wanted to look better, it was all for her. She was his color, yet now as he tears, the portraits of her off his walls and letter book, he weeps.

All she had done, all she really was, was simply a reminder of his biggest fear, which was woman. As a whole, they have repeatedly treated him like a slave, throwing blasphemy around about him, and giving him all the reason to take his own life, and as the thought passes through his head, he looks over to the shears laying by his head on the nightstand. He reaches, and releases them from the cover before bringing them to his chest, but he was too scared, “What if she changes her mind”, he penetrated his bed frame with the shears. He lay mournfully in his bed, staring at the ceiling. Before returning to sleep he considered once more to take his own life.

[callme-barnes]

A Lesson in the Art of Seduction

*GIF does not belong to me!*

Summary: You love the way Bucky sounds when you’re making him fall apart. So after a night out, you decide to put a little plan into action to fulfill one of your fantasies. 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,310

Warnings: SMUT (possibly poorly written), oral sex (m! receiving), IF YOU ARE A MINOR PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT! 18+ only!

A/N: Again, 18+ only! Minors DNI! Please do not repost my work anywhere! I wrote it for Tumblr so it should stay on Tumblr. Idk what the title is that’s the hardest part of this writing stuff! This is my first time ever writing smut of any kind. I’m surprised I was able to get it out on screen but I’ve had this idea on my mind all day so I guess that’s why I was able to finish it. Again, I’m not thinking much about posting this so I won’t back out so all mistakes are mine! Enjoy!

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If there was one thing about James Buchanan Barnes, just one thing, that you could enjoy every single day for the rest of your life was the way he sounded. The way he grunted after lifting something heavy. His gasping for air when he came back to the apartment from a run. The moans and groans in protest when you needed to get out of bed in the morning for work but he wasn’t quite ready to let you go just yet.

And then there was the not so PG version of those delightful sounds.

The grunting when he seated himself inside of you after a short dry spell when he went on a mission. The gasps you pulled out of him when you were riding him like you might never be able to again. The moans and groans he presented to you when he was fucking you into the mattress. Him fucking you was something you wanted until the day you would die to be honest. The power you felt you held, to be the reason the ex Winter Soldier was falling apart at the seams, was the best thing to have in your true opinion. It's a power you liked to take full advantage of, as well as test out every now and again.

Which brought you to this very moment in time. You were hardly the type to be jealous. It was a promise you made to yourself after a young life full of jealousy in partners. The feeling you had within you right now was not one of jealousy exactly, but more playful curiosity. You were both returning from a public Avengers event, a little earlier in the night than expected but the feeling you were feeling just couldn’t wait. It bubbled to the surface when you watched an investor get a little too close to Bucky. It seemed like the more their conversation went on, the closer she got and the more hands on she decided to get.

When you made your way over to them to join their conversation, the woman pulled out her card, handed it to Bucky and walked away, probably wanting to keep that mystery working for her. You remember the move well, it was what you used on Bucky when you first met him. You smirked to yourself when you approached him, him reiterating what the woman spoke to him about and you nodded in acknowledgment, your eyes peering up at him through your lashes, sending him a knowing look. A knowing that only you knew what was going to happen tonight, and he had no idea what was going to be coming to him.

Bucky had walked up to your apartment building and unlocked the door before stepping in and removing the jacket he had on, you following close behind him.

“Who would’ve thought these functions would start to become a monthly occurrence”

You laughed as you set your bag down on the counter and slipped off your heels, “Yeah well you are a part of the team. The rich people gotta know who their investing in after all”

Bucky reached out to you and hugged you to his chest, the gesture making you even more ready to show him exactly what you were all about. Just before he reached down to press a kiss to your neck his pocket began to vibrate. He let out a small groan, one of those cute little frustrated groans that you loved hearing from him so much. He reached in and pulled out his phone and answered, his face lightly exasperated. You heard a woman on the other side and you smirked a bit to yourself, realizing it was the woman from the party.

The plan you had to begin the night was in rotation, thanks to not only your scheming, but Natasha’s willingness to help you. Before you left you asked for the assistance from the super spy to get the woman from the party to give Bucky a call. You left Bucky’s side, his lips turning down into a frown as he began to hold a conversation, although it was very clear to you he would rather start doing something else.

You made your way to the room, slipping off your jewelry and letting Bucky drop his guard a bit. He had to be completely oblivious in order for you to get the reactions you wanted to get from him, and you were more determined than ever to get him to be vocal tonight. You knew he wouldn’t look at any other woman the way he looked at you, but tonight you wanted to just show him exactly why that was. You wanted him to fall apart, and you wanted to be the reason he did.

After about 5 minutes, you walked out to the living space seeing Bucky had unbuttoned the top button of his shirt and was sipping on a beer, sitting down on the couch as he continued his conversation. He looked up, giving you an apologetic look since he wasn’t supposed to be exactly working right now. You smirked a bit to yourself as you sent him back a reassuring smile before you pushed yourself away from the doorframe you were leaning against.

You maintained eye contact with him as you swayed your hips and made your way over to the couch. Bucky’s eyes watched you very closely, the way your hips moved and the way your legs looked in the dress you were wearing made his body react and you knew that. You made your way behind him, the sofa back separating you from him as you reached your hands to his shoulders. You began to massage his shoulders a bit, your fingers kneading into the thick muscle that was present there. Bucky let out a soft sigh in response, leaning back and enjoying the actions you were making. You leaned over to kiss the side of his neck as your hands slipped down from his shoulders to his chest, your lips now traveling up to his ear.

“Pay attention to your phone call Bucky, let’s not be rude”

The tip of Bucky’s tongue flicked out against his bottom lip as you made your way to stand in front of him, his eyes roaming down against you once again. You smiled at him before you ran your hands down the front of your body, making your way down to your knees in between his parted legs. Bucky made to sit up before you moved to press him back against the sofa again.

“I’m sorry can you hold for a second…”

You raised an eyebrow at him as he pulled the phone away from his ear, “What do you think you’re doing pretty girl?”

Your hand trailed down his chest, to his abdomen and continued its way down until you reached the tent that was fully formed in his dress pants, the hitch in his voice like music to your ego.

“Just being productive while you're preoccupied. Shouldn’t keep her waiting, finish your phone call James”

Bucky muttered a quick ‘fuck’ under his breath before he pulled the phone back to his ear, “I’m really sorry about that what were you saying?”

You maintained eye contact with him as you popped open the button to his pants and unzipped him, your other hand resting on the thickness of his thighs before making its way to release him from the confines of his briefs. His thick cock sprang free, slapping him lightly on his lower abdomen as your eyes moved from his face to the entire reason you were down on your knees. You sent him a smile, taking him in your hand and bringing him to your lips, the way his abs tightened making you more than excited to continue.

Bucky’s free hand reached down to caress your cheek and made its way up into your hair in anticipation. Your tongue reached out and began to lick at his dick slowly, taking your time to really map out where it was that made him shiver and clench up. You gave him that sultry look between your lashes and you could’ve sworn you saw his soul leave his body as you leaned up and took him into your mouth. You took your time, working on the tip of his dick before you felt you had him on edge enough to take him further into your mouth towards the back of your throat.

“Oh fuck...shit”

Bucky’s hand tightened into your hair, not quite pushing you down just yet but just holding onto you to keep him grounded in a way, “Sorry I was...I dropped something”

You internally laughed as you bobbed your head up and down his length, your hand fisting and pumping at the rest of what you weren’t quite ready to bless him with yet.

“No I don’t….I don’t think that would be a problem”

Bucky sounded breathless as he spoke, the way he was trying to maintain control was cute to you, but you knew you had him exactly where you wanted him. You wanted him breathless, and you wanted to be the reason why. You kept your pace, jerking him off and sucking him as he continued his conversation. When you felt he had gotten too comfortable controlling himself you removed your hand and pushed your head down to take in the rest of him down your throat, gagging around him in response. Bucky quickly jerked up in surprise, causing his hand to hold onto your hair tighter and pressed you down in the process.

“Shit! Holy fuck”

His hand reached to the back of your head as you sped up your head bobbing, now taking it upon himself to push you down against him and letting his hips meet you halfway into your mouth. You looked up at him again to gauge his face and holy fuck you were sure you were going to cum with how he was looking. His eyes were closed, his lips parted and in that tiny grin that you loved seeing on him because it meant he was thoroughly enjoying himself. Bucky twitched in your mouth, the beginnings of his orgasm coming when you suddenly slowed down your movements, wanting to keep him on the edge for as long as you possibly could.

“No I just...fuck I’m going to have to call you later. I’m sorry”

Bucky quickly hung up and through his phone behind him, his other hand reached over to join his grip on your head, causing you to let out a moan in response.

“Shit you’re such a bad girl baby. You like me watching me struggle to stay together don't you? That shit turn you on?”

You let out a hum in approval at his words as you sped up once again, spit dribbling from the corners of your mouth and your gagging getting less prominent the more you took his dick down your throat.

“Shit sweetheart, I’m gonna fucking cum. Want me to cum down your throat? You want this don’t you?”

Bucky grabbed onto your hair and pulled you completely off of him, making you gasp and look up at him as he leaned over and pulled you to meet him halfway, meeting you to kiss you roughly. It was all tongue and teeth, your hands rested on his thighs and your core pulsing in anticipation.

“Tell me. Tell me you want it”

He pushed you back down to your position as he took himself in his hand and pumped himself in front of you, making you whine with how hot he sounded to you right now.

“Fuck I want it. Give it to me Bucky please. Please I want it so bad”

Bucky smirked as he stopped pumping himself and pushed you close to him, you taking the hint and taking him completely down your throat once again, “Then take it baby. Fucking take it. Oh shit yes just like that Y/N”

You let out a moan, swearing that if it weren’t for Bucky’s hand in your hair you would think this was all just a dream. Bucky allowed himself to moan, a string of ‘oh shit’ and ‘fuck’ coming out of his mouth. Soon it turned into just your name, over and over again, causing you to grind down to receive some sort of friction, any type of friction. You felt Bucky pulse and tighten in your mouth before he released, the sound of his moans and gasps making you grind down a bit harder. His hand tightened in your hair as you continued sucking him off until he was spent, and even a little after that.

“Shit Y/N, you gotta...gotta stop baby”

You couldn’t help but continue, just for the simple fact that he wanted you to stop. Bucky moaned and grabbed you, pulling you off of him. You let out a small gasp for air as he pulled you off and you sat back on your heels, just watching him recover from your actions. His chest was rising and falling as he tried to catch his breath, his hand running through his hair before looking up and over at you. You sent him an innocent look, but the smirk that you sent him was the complete opposite. Devilish, sexy and a little bit mischievous.

“Shit Y/N you....I don’t know what all that was about, but I’ve got a feeling you had that planned somehow”

You smiled and shrugged, “Just had to prove a point to myself”

Bucky let out a groan and smiled before he moved over quickly grabbing you and standing up. You yelled as you wrapped your legs around him and laughed as he made his way over to your room, “My turn now you little minx”

[closedmadness]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

summary: you and alec hated each other — or at least, pretended to in front of everyone. behind the scenes, however, you two are insanely in love with each other

pairings: alec lightwood x male reader

warnings → fluff & nsfw・swearing・fake arguments・make-out session・blowjob・anal penetration・slight possessive alec

a/n: please i didn’t mean for this to be short nsfw but my fingers moved on its own✋😭 it was supposed to be just cute, fluffy and sweet💀

“you can’t tell me that it wasn’t your fault we failed our mission today.” alec’s voice boomed in the institute as soon as all of you got home, irritation clear in his tone.

rolling your eyes, a sigh escaped your lips. you really don’t want to do this right now after that particularly bad, failed mission — a bunch of female mundanes swarmed over you while on duty, disturbing you and making you unable to guard over the demons that were wrecking havoc on that club itself. those females were a distraction; they wanted to get into your pants, thirty for some love from a incredibly good-looking man like you.

deciding not to deal with his crap as isabelle and jace scolded alec, you went to walk pass him before being stopped quickly with a grab on your arm. “i really don’t want to do this right now, lightwood.” you immediately said after turning around, refusing to let him talk first. “i feel responsible of this mission as much as it’s hard to believe that, and i don’t want you constantly nagging me about it.”

“as you should.” he retorts with the same cold, emotionless face he always plastered on. “and of course, i will nag you about it, it was an important mission! we got to kill those demons but we didn’t get to find out their intention.”

you scrunched your brows together, “why didn’t you ask any of them when those mundanes were crowding over me? i’m sure you had plenty of chances.” eyes glinting with suspicion, you stepped forward towards him. “or maybe you just didn’t want to do anything so you could frame me on the failed mission.” you accused.

alec’s brows furrowed and his lips curved upside down in a frown at that. he narrowed his eyes, offended and upset. “you’re accusing me now? great, (y/n)! of course, you would find a way to accuse me somehow!” he exclaimed sarcastically.

you scoff and rolled your eyes, done with his bullshit before storming off the heart of the institute towards your room.

“seriously, alec?” isabelle gives her brother a look, hands resting on her hips, but all the male lightwood did was glare at her and storm off as well.

she didn’t know why you and alec are always on each other’s throats; it’s almost as if you’d kill each other when left alone together, there isn’t even any clear reason you two should hate each other yet you still do. it’s probably because of the feud between maryse and your mother, but even then, she still did not understand. in her eyes, alec was longing for your touches and just you in general, yet he’s pushing you away. isabelle has been wanting the both of you to get along — though, it might be the hardest one to achieve.

jace and clary glanced at each other, knowing how she feels about this whole feud thing. “they’ll come around soon, izzy.” the former comforts, placing his hand on her shoulder.

“yeah, let’s just believe in them.” clary joins, taking up the space opposite jace. “you know what they say; the more you hate, the more you love. who knows? they might actually get along someday.” she tried her best to cheer up, which worked miraculously as isabelle reveals a smile.

perhaps, she should be patient as the universe works in its own wonderful ways. all these small, petty arguments are getting tiring and she just hopes something will change for the better.

walking down the hallway leading up to your room, alec looks around first cautiously and makes sure no one’s witnessing anything before eventually stopping in front of your door.

it was already unlocked, with you peeking from the tiny bit of space between, grinning up at him. alec smiled and assured you there was no one around, which made you open the door wide and pull him in. giggling together, he closed the door behind him and made sure to lock it as you captured his lips on yours, cupping his face with both hands.

he smiled into the kiss, moving to wrap his arms around your waist while yours wrapped around his neck, pulling each other close. feeling a gentle squeeze on your butt, you took that as a signal to jump and wrap your legs around him, alec not missing a beat to catch you. with lips still attached together, alec moved to sit on the bed, his hands beginning to roam around your body. breaking the kiss to catch your breath, he took it as an opportunity to run his lips and tongue across your neck, licking, sucking and biting. you moaned, tilting your head back to give him more access.

“alec...” you whimpered breathlessly as he sucked harshly on your skin, creating a pretty visible hickey. “they will- don’t make one where they can see it.” complaining, you slipped your fingers through his soft hair but didn’t stop him from continuing his work.

he hums, the vibration making you shiver. “you can always cover it, (y/n). i know you like it when i leave my mark on you.” he mumbled against your skin, tightening his hold. a moan once again leaves your lips when he bit on your sweet spot, the blissful sound making him groan and slip his hand in the back of your pants. “you know today was not your fault, right?” he suddenly whispers, staring into your (e/c) eyes that never failed to make him lost.

you stared back at his hazel eyes, nodding your head and resting your forehead against his. “of course, darling. i never meant anything i’ve said either.”

this is always what you did — argue, act like enemies, be nasty, throw insults at one another, speak with distaste in the front, but once behind the closed doors, you apologize to each other and make sure the other didn’t take it to their heart, as well as show love, so you’d be reassured of everything.

alec smiles, his eyes shining with admiration and love. oh, how angelic he looked with that smile of his. only you could see him so soft.

“truth is, i couldn’t ask the demons because i was focused on you.” he admitted, looking down for a second before returning his gaze on you. “those mundanes,” distaste filled his tone at the mention of those creature, “had no right to touch you like that. acting like you’d sleep with them, be their man.” his lips pouted at the thought as jealousy clouded his chest.

chuckling, you pecked his lips when found his jealousy cute. “alec, darling, you know i’m only gonna do that with you. i’m completely yours.” talking with a loving tone, your fingers played with his hair that always made him feel good.

alec smiled in fondness and gently pulled you by the back of your head, capturing your lips in yet another heated kiss. you bit on his bottom lip, erupting a groan from him as he pushed the jacket off of your shoulders, it falling on the floor along with your black shirt. alec only ever broke the kiss when he removed his jacket and shirt, and quickly smashed his lips back on yours, tongue slipping in smoothly and exploring your mouth, fighting against your own wet muscle for dominance.

he then flipped you both to lay your back on the soft mattress, never breaking the kiss as his hand ran across your chest and abs, tracing every bit of your body. you moaned into the kiss when he palmed your cock through the thick layer of pants.

“mhm, alec...” calling his name breathlessly, you unconsciously buckled your hips onto his hand, trying to get some sort of stimulation.

alec groaned in arousal at your reaction, quickly unzipping your pants and tugging it off of you along with your boxers. a cool of air hit your manhood as soon as it was released, making you shiver, eyes closing in response.

the lightwood took his time to admire you completely; your eyes glistening with lust, lips swollen from all the kissing, chest rising up and down with every breath you take, fully naked, presenting yourself to him without shame or hesitation. no matter how many times he looked at every part of you, you never ceased to take his breath away. it was sort of amusing, how even after all this time you still have him wrapped around your finger and willingly refusing to ever unwrap.

god, he’s so lucky to have you.

alec starts kissing your chest downwards slowly until it reached your hard erection, laying a peck on the tip which had you twitching. giving your tip a kitten lick, his hand pumped your cock painfully slow as you whimpered. he licked off the dripping precum before fully taking you in, the walls of his mouth rubbing against your shaft making you moan and throw your head back, eyes almost rolling to the back of your head. he didn’t stop until he took all the way in and starts to bob his head upwards and backwards, twirling his wet muscle skillfully on your shaft while doing so, keeping his gaze fixed on you.

you gripped the sheets tightly until your knuckles turned white, wave after wave of pleasure hitting you like a tsunami as an uncontrollable moans escaped your lips. “fuck, alec! t-that feels so good.” you praised, arching your back to get more stimulation.

alec kept you in place with his hands as he continued sucking you off, the bulge in his pants implying his intense arousal upon the delicious sight in front of him. his cock was painfully hard underneath that thick fabric.

saliva as well as your precum dripped his chin, but he couldn’t careless as he only wanted you to feel amazing. and indeed, you were feeling just that.

he could see your legs quiver in the corner of his eyes. you were close, he could feel it by your cock twitching and pulsating in his mouth. an all too familiar feeling builds in the pit of your stomach as tears blurred your vision, your mind reminding you how close you are to your climax. “ohhh, fuck! alec! i’m close- aghhh!”

“cum for me, (y/n).” alec speaks, and although it was muffled due to your cock still buried between his lips, you understood. he fastened his pace, slowly sending you over the edge until finally, you let out a loud moan of his name as white seeds shoots out from your cock in his mouth. your hips jerked while you ride out your orgasm, his lips still wrapped around the manhood in an attempt to swallow everything that spills out of it.

he then released your cock from his mouth with a loud ‘pop’ and hovered above your panting body again, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. you could taste yourself along with his saliva as your wet muscles danced together lazily.

a shaky sigh leaves his lips after feeling how painfully hard he was and finally moved to remove the rest of his clothes, pants and boxers altogether — his hard-on springing up as he released a relieved sigh from the freeness. his pants were getting too tight with his as-hard-as-a-rock manhood inside.

“alec,” you breathlessly called, bringing your hands up to cup his face. “go ahead and put it in. i want you now.”

“but without preparation-”

“it will hurt, i know.” you cut him off, giving him an assuring look. “we did it yesterday, it’ll be okay. please, just fuck me right now,” you placed your lips just above his ear, “show me those mundanes aren’t better than you.”

“you really...” he growled. you really knew how to rile him up.

without a warning, he slammed his cock into you in just one go and ripped out a scream from your throat, eyes rolling to the back of your head from the sudden feeling of being filled with his thick shaft.

thrusting his hips, alec groaned at the warm feeling of your tight hole around him and kissed your collarbone to muffle his own noises while his ears are blessed with your constant whines, moans and whimpers.

“shit, ah! alec! more!” you desperately whined, hips moving on its own to meet with his rhythmic thrust.

“fuck, (y/n)...” he grunted right into your ear, making you shudder.

his pace was fast and rough as he fucked you mercilessly into the mattress while leaving hickeys everywhere he can, angling his thrust so he’d perfectly hit your prostate. “you’re only mine. no mundanes, or shadowhunters, or downworlders can get to lay their hands on you but me. i’m the only one who get to fuck you like this...” his words went straight to your already hard-enough cock, arousing you even further.

it’s always hot whenever alec gets possessive over you, and you loved that.

“oh my god, alec�� right there!” you moaned, now tears rolling down your flushed cheeks. his thrust starts to get sloppy as both of you near the edge, you could feel his cock pulsing and twitching inside your hole.

it took three harsh and hard thrust to completely throw you off as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, loud moans that sounded almost like a scream erupting from your throat, back arching and body squirming underneath him as white loads shoots out again from your manhood, landing on your exposed chest and stomach, cumming hard. your walls tightened around him while you cum and that was enough for alec to spill his hot seed inside you, filling you up good like always.

pulling out, he collapsed on the bed beside you, catching your breath together and slowly calming down from your high. “great thing your room is soundproof.” alec comments, making you both chuckle.

“yeah, that’s one thing i love about this room.” you laughed and he did as well before pulling you so you could rest your head on his chest, listening to his even and rhythmic heartbeat.

cleaning up can wait tomorrow. for now, you two wanted to cuddle up with each other knowing there has to be a lot of pretending again.

jace, isabelle, clary and magnus all sat exasperated on the couch as they watch you and alec go back and fourth over the cup and valentine, both arguing and insulting each other for about an hour now.

it’s a usual day, with you and alec hating the other using the sharpness of your tongues, but they were getting tired of this constant bickering and slight sexual tension that always rose in the air.

magnus had just recently discovered your hatred for each other and at first he found it amusing, but that soon turned into boredom when it became an occasional sight for him. though, he can admit that your tongue is sharper than alec’s and he’s impressed by that.

“valentine is a shadowhunter, alright? he’d be able to get the cup from here.” you argued, giving the lightwood a pointed look.

alec folded his arms, “not if we guard it.”

you raised your brows and a ‘really?’ look crossed your face. “have you forgotten that he killed thousands of shadowhunters and downworlders, or did you become so old that your memory gaps is getting worse?” he shot you a death glare at that, not liking the tone you use on him.

“okay so,” clary stands up, “why don’t you both just calm down and figure this out in a friendly way?” you and alec snapped your gaze towards her, eyes practically sending daggers. she held her hands up, “or maybe not. but can’t you just... uh- not fight, for once?”

“not my problem he’s irritating.” you retorted with arms folded above your chest.

alec rolled his eyes, “well, not my problem either that he’s annoying.” he exclaimed while his index finger pointed at you.

“you two look like an old married couple.” isabelle comments with a teasing smirk dancing on her lips. you and alec froze in your places and looked at her with unreadable expression before turning back at each other.

it felt good hearing that, since you two are dating.

the conversation were interrupted when maryse approaches, her hands fiddling with each other and a nervous look on her face.

you sighed, stepping away to walk out, but maryse quickly stops you when you walked pass her. “stay, please. this involves you, too.” confusion laced your face at that, but didn’t say anything as you stepped back.

“i know that the feud between (y/n)’s mother and i have caused some troubles within you, and we’re very sorry for that. we decided... it’s better to forget what happened between us rather than drag it down and have it affect all of you.” she turned around and gestured for someone to come, your mother walking up to her, their hand intertwining in a friendly manner as smiles coated their faces.

surprise filled everyone’s face, brows raising. “wait, does this mean you two are friends now?” isabelle asked.

your mother smiled, nodding her head. “we had a genuine conversation last night and found out we had more similarities than we thought we would.”

jace, clary and isabelle smiled at one another while magnus sipped on his drink, feeling quite happy for them. this meant you and alec had no reason to hate each other.

“so this isn’t a joke? you’re not pretending?” you asked, suspicion on both yours and alec’s face. they shook their heads and smiled.

you stared at them before turning to alec who looked back at you, silently conversing.

finally, a sigh leaves his lips as you simultaneously looked at the two mothers with a smile. “that’s a great news, mother. i hope you have fun together.” he congratulates, smiling. “now, (y/n) and i have somewhere else to go. i assume there won’t be any missions for today.”

surprise looks coated everyone’s faces and their eyes almost popped out of their sockets when you intertwined your hand with his. you waved at them, alec beginning to drag you two away.

“hold on a second, where are you going? and what does that mean?” jace quickly asked, pointing at your intertwined hands after he stood up from the couch.

“isn’t it obvious?” alec gives him a look, “we’re going on a date. now, make an effort not to interrupt us.” he continued to pull you.

“have fun with mom, mrs. lightwood!” you said with a smile before disappearing out with alec.

everyone still looked shocked.

“well, that took a turn.” magnus smirked, drinking his tequila.

© prettymadness — all rights reserved. do not repost or translate without my permission. plagiarism is strictly prohibited.

[buckbanner]

𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 -- 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Bucky wants you to stay in bed with him.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: soft sex, oral- woman receiving. 

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: if you see this floating around, i posted it many different times with many different characters but it was originally written for bucky. this will now be it’s forever home. i’m a new marvel blog, so follow for more content and we can be pals! <3

-

The bright flash of lightning from the window hit his face perfectly. His bangs were pressed to his forehead, eyes fluttered closed and soft snores leaving his mouth. You moved your hand towards his face, pushing the hair out of the way to get a good look at him. Work days were the hardest, leaving the boy you loved for a shitty paying job. You pressed a soft kiss to his nose, sighing softly and placing an elbow down on the mattress to pick yourself up and get ready for the work day.

A squeal left your lips immediately, a strong pair of arms pulling you back into warmth, “Bucky, I thought you were sleeping!”

“‘m.” was all he could muster at first, getting his thoughts together before speaking, “I was, could sense you leaving. You have a calm aura, and you know it’s difficult to sleep without my Mrs.”

Bucky had terrible sleeping habits. Constant tossing and turnings, staying awake until the early morning. It was difficult for him to get to sleep, but as soon as he did, the cuddliest bug he was.

He hid himself in the crook of your neck, planting small kisses on your sweet spot to reel you back into him. You sighed softly, falling into his grasp, the both of you knowing who was going to win this round. “Please, darling? It’s my day off y’know? Why don’t you stay here with your favorite boy?”

Your eyes glided to the window, a gloomy rainy day. The ride to work wouldn’t be a quick one and it’s not like your colleagues would miss you too much anyway. The more you thought, the better of an idea it sounded.

“The only problem is, I don’t want to make my way to the phone.” you hummed, interlocking your fingers with his.

His thumb traced the back of your hand, and his soft smile soon turned into a smirk, a dark chuckle falling from his lips. This caused you to cock an eyebrow, turning to look at Bucky who’s eyes were still screwed shut, “What’s so funny?”

Bucky licked his lips, opening his eyes for the first time to take a good look at you, “What would you say if I already called in for you?”

A gasp fell from your lips, your tired hand smacking him lightly on the chest, “James!”

“Oh c’mon, doll.” He laughed at the sound of his first name, catching your hand and placing a soft kiss to it, “It’s pouring outside! Were you really gonna leave me here alone?”

The pout evident in his voice and placed upon his lips, you couldn’t be angry. A part of you remembers feeling an empty spot leaving your bed but an hour ago, thinking he went to get a drink from the kitchen, only now realizing that’s when he’d slipped in and played your boss for a fool. “If he asks, you have food poisoning.”

“Is that the only idea your little brain could come up with?”

“Actually,” He purred, hand trailing down your body causing you to shiver, “This little brain of mine couldn’t be bothered to come up with anything better, was too focused on my girl.”

You tried your best to ignore the daring look in his eyes, yours closing abruptly, head falling back into the pillow. Bucky’s hands fiddled with the hem of one of his old t-shirts that was hanging loosely off your figure. He couldn’t get enough of you. Most guys would drool over their girls in the sexiest lingerie, lace barely covering their bits. Bucky, however, thought the most beautiful site was you, laying here in one of the shirts you stole and a pair of panties begging to be ripped from your legs.

His intentions were extremely clear, slender fingers now making their way up your upper half, giving your boobs a little squeeze, “so gorgeous.” he mumbled, pressing a soft kiss to your belly.

“Baby, not right now.” You whine, trying not too terribly hard to push him away, “‘m sleepy. Don’t think I have the energy.”

Taking a good look at him, you could feel the heat already forming between your thighs. Bed head still present, eyes glossed over, tongue darting out to lick his lips; the only thing you could think about was how he'd look even better in between your thighs, putting that mouth to better use.

“Don’t worry, darling. Don’t expect you to do a damn thing but sit here and look pretty for me, think you can do that?”

You stared at your boyfriend in awe, biting down on your own lips and giving him a reassuring nod, “I’ll be so good for you, promise.”

“That’s my girl.”

His fingers hooked around the front of your panties in an instant, taking his time to pull them off you. You tangled his hands in your hair, brushing it back with your fingers as you watched him in awe. Bucky’s mouth was all but hovering over you, even half asleep, the teasing was present.

Whining never did anything, but you couldn’t help it, a small one escaping you, lightly bucking your hips up to try and catch a feel of him. You were too slow. He pressed his left hand on your stomach, pushing you back down, a smile on those beautiful lips of his.

“Ah ah ah, what happened to just sitting there and being pretty for me?”

If it were any other time he would have slapped your clit, making you get off by that and that alone. He would make you count each and every one to see just how long it took you to get off without him putting in any work.

Due to the tone in his voice you could tell he wasn’t too keen on punishing, wanting nothing more than to take his time with you. He pressed a soft kiss to your thigh, giving a small suck before moving to the other, forming tiny love bites as he moved his way up.

You were throbbing at this point, a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. Once he dipped his tongue into your core you swear you felt fireworks fly, your head throwing itself back into the pillow once again.

A hiccup of moans were caught in your throat, your legs shaking at how good he was treating you. He was a god at this, eating you out like you were his last meal. He stopped for a moment, taking a hand of yours from his scalp. In one quick movement he takes his rings off, placing them on your fingers and continuing on with his task, this time adding a finger to the mix.

The sounds of the rain pattering against the window and your chorus of moans bouncing through your shared bedroom was music to his ears. You were so close to coming undone and he knew it. Maybe it was selfish of him, but all he desperately wanted was to feel you around him.

He pulled both his mouth and his fingers from you, causing you to cry out at the loss of contact. “‘s close.”

“I know darling, couldn’t help myself.”

Tugging down his own underwear, he put a hand on the pillow next to you to hold himself up. Your eyes connected for the first time that morning, hearts beating in sync with each other. A tired smile was on his lips, reaching down to give you a kiss.

“James,” You moaned against his lips, a hand wrapped over the back of his neck to bring him closer to you, “Please make love to me.”

His heart swelled, feeling nothing more in that moment than the love you radiated, all just for him. Once he lined himself to your entrance, he placed his hand in yours, interlocking his fingers with yours, the same ones that held his rings from moments earlier.

Kisses and small I love you’s filled the air, the utter bliss taking over your bodies. You wouldn’t tell anyone, but as the both of you hit your release you felt a small tear hit the side of a cheek, a pair of lips kissing it away.

“I love you, doll. More than anything.”

[chuckbass-love]

20,39,42 with Andy Barber?

Hey, lovely anon. First of all i hope you’re doing well and second of all, i thoroughly enjoyed writing this and i hope y’all have a lot of fun reading it. It’s been a hot minute since i last wrote for Andy.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Andy Barber x Fem!Reader

Prompts Used: 

20) “You’d better be quiet or everyone’s going to know what a naughty little slut you are”

39) “I’m so sick of your voice. Why don’t you come over here and put your mouth to better use?”

42) “I guess i’ll just get off all by myself”

Warnings: Smut. Sexual intercourse, vaginal sex, spanking, daddy kink, love making (kinda), arguing, swearing, angst and a sprinkle of fluff for good measure. That’s right, used all 3. 18+ you know the drill.

Word Count: 6,796

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @cassercole go check them out💕

Do You Feel What I Feel?

After a long and interesting weekend, you’re a lot less eager to get back behind your desk to work for Andy Barber than you usually are. One reason in particular being that you’ve been dating other people behind his back. See the thing with you and Andy is that you’ve known him for 2 whole years, worked for him for 1 year and been fucking him since the evening of your very first day. He got you the job to work with him after you got laid off.

You met him after he showed up for one of your seminars at college and he gave a presentation on what it’s like to be a lawyer and you just clicked. But it was strictly platonic...until you showed up on that first day dressed in a knee length skirt, a semi sheer polka dot blouse with stockings and heels. He was shocked to say the least. You looked entirely different and he’d never seen you this way before. It turned him on and he let you know it. 

As you were packing your things away and bidding him goodbye for the day, he called you back into his office and instructed you to lock the door behind you before he began to inform you of the effect you had on him. Starting slowly by telling you how he was taken aback by your ability to think on your feet, use your initiative and then just like that, it all came out and he couldn’t control his hunger much longer. 

He kissed you so hard that night that the breath was knocked from your lungs but you loved it, you yearned for more of that feeling and he fucked you so good that you made it a regular thing, without even realising it was becoming one until it was too late. You’d just show up at each others places without a warning and before you knew it, he was fucking you into the mattress and making you cum with a cry of his name.

Now back to the present... you like Andy, in fact if you’re being truthful with yourself, you’ve fallen so madly in love with him that you know it’s time to quit him. He’s like a drug, an addiction and you need to stop going back for more. Hence why you decided that enough was enough. 

You met a guy online, his name is Ashley and he was more than keen to take you out so you happily obliged and sure you had a nice time but there’s just one issue lying in your way. Andy is unsuspecting of your little date and it’s been eating away at you since said date walked you back to your apartment. You know that you need to tell him but you fear that it’ll cost you your job, he did hire you to help you out after all.

Before you can wallow more in your choice to keep things from him, he calls you into his office and you haven’t even gotten any work done yet, you only sat down 5 minutes ago.

What could he possibly want so early on?

“Yes, Mr Barber?” you ask flirtatiously, making him glare up at you before gesturing for you to take a seat opposite him. Which you do.

“So today i’m gonna need you to file this paper work into the data base for me” he starts, lifting up a pile taller than the length of your forearm and now you’re annoyed for real this time. He knows full well that you’re still finishing off the stack from Friday and yet here he is presenting more work for you to do “get it done by the end of the day” he finishes, flashing you another stone cold glare as he looks back down at the paper on his desk, not even bothering to acknowledge your presence for a second longer.

Until you speak up “Andy, you know i’m still finishing off Frid....”

“That’s Mr Barber to you and you can leave now” his rude and snappy interruption makes you scoff as you shake your head at the tone in his voice, he’s not in any mood today to help you out or make exceptions. So you do as you’re told, hauling the heavy pile into your arms and lugging it back to your desk outside. Once it’s on your desk, you walk back to shut his door before he asks, making sure to slam it harder than needed to make it known that you’re angry with him.

He doesn’t seem to notice or care though.

Now to get started on all of this work that’ll probably mean you staying later tonight, just brilliant. Guess your second date with Ashley will have to be rescheduled.

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

You finish off half of the pile by the time it gets to 1:30pm and you’re due a lunch break round about now so seeing as though Andy hasn’t left his office all day, you decide to pop out for some food with one of the other assistants, Stacey. Thank God you don’t have to face him since you have absolutely no clue what could have possibly rattled his cage this morning to make him snap at you like that. The two of you have always had this ongoing joke of you calling him Mr Barber and he usually allows you to call him by his first name until today when that alone was enough to anger him.

It’s obvious that you’ll have to put off telling him about your date until he’s in a better place to receive the news. You’re hoping that since he’s always been opposed to commitment that he’ll take it well but the halt in your fooling around might annoy him a little. It’s not your problem though, he always knew you were planning to eventually settle down.

Upon your return to your desk you find Andy sat in your chair, looking through your work “where the hell have you been?” he mutters as he avoids your eyes “you know what, don’t even bother making excuses, my office, NOW” you jump out of fear as he raises his voice slightly at you for the first time in the whole 2 years you’ve known him. Your anxious body shuffles into his office, scared of what’s about to happen.

“Was i not clear enough earlier Y/N? Hm? Because i specifically remember asking you to have this work done by the end of the day. You get off at half 4, it’s now half 2 and you’ve only done half. Do i pay you to galavant around town with Stacey or do i pay you to do your goddam job?”

In the 2 years that you’ve known Andy, he’s also never made you cry, yet here you are trying your absolute hardest not to let these tears fall in front of him.

“You pay me to do my job and i’ve tried my best to get it done. I-I’m sorry” you stand there awkwardly, picking at the torn skin around your fingernails as you stare hopelessly at your stilettos. “Well your best isn’t fucking good enough Y/N, try harder. You can stay here until all of the paperwork is done and that includes Friday’s load too now close the door on your way out”

Is he actually serious? He can’t be, surely. What is wrong with him?

“No” you stand tall, hands on your hips as you talk back and if he was angry before then now he’s livid with you “What do you mean no?” he questions, stepping towards you, hands in his pockets as he awaits your answer.

“I said, no. Just because you’re in a bad mood for whatever reason does NOT mean that you get to stand here and humiliate me. I said no and that’s final. I’ll do my best to get today’s work done before i leave but Friday’s work can wait and i don’t care what nasty comment you have in store to throw back at me”

His face screws up as he clenches his jaw again, you should feel really scared right about now, that comment might have just cost you this job but you don’t care. If that’s the case then you’ll walk out of here proud of yourself along with one less so called friend in your life.

“Bad mood? I’m furious and you don’t even know the half of it” he picks his phone up, tapping a couple times before handing it to you and walking back to his desk to sit down. You watch the clip in his camera roll, squinting as you try to make out the faces in it and then you realise that it’s you and Ashley. Fuck. He was there that night at your apartment, he was obviously coming to see you and you didn’t even know it. He must have seen you with another man and changed his mind. You feel awful as you look back at him, he just sighs once you place the phone onto his desk.

“Andy, i-i”

“Save it. If you wanted to cut our little deal off then you shoulda just said. I don’t appreciate being lied to Y/N and i don’t fancy talking about it with you for a minute longer so just do as your fucking told and get back to work”

All you can do is turn around and walk away since you’ve done enough damage already. But all you can think about is the look on his face after you watched the incriminating clip. He looked sad, broken even and it’s replaying in your brain over and over. Torturing you. 

This is why he’s been so nasty today, so demanding and harsh. He’s hurt that you lied to him, hurt that you were with someone else, even if it was just dinner. You still arranged a date with another man and went and what Andy has never wanted to admit before, not even to himself is that he really likes you. In fact no, he’s fallen madly in love with you. 

Every waking moment of his life is spent with you on his mind. You even corrupt his dream world too and it’s gotten out of control. Saturday he decided it was time to cut your little deal off and start over. He was going to do it right, confess his feelings, ask you on a date and then take you out and treat you like a princess.

Ever since he laid his blue eyes on you that first time when he was doing the presentation in your class at college, he liked you. You asked so many questions, engaged a lot in the debates and he knew then that you were going to play an important role in his life. And you have. You became close friends, going out regularly and doing things like bowling and eating dinner together more than a handful of times. He enjoyed your company and you enjoyed his but there was this unspoken rule that you had to remain just friends. He wasn’t ready for anything serious and you were still not over your ex.

But then when you walked through his office door on your first day dressed in that skirt, those heels and stockings and lets not forget about that blouse. He was trying his hardest not to drool. One things for sure though, he was painfully hard for you.

When he came to your apartment Saturday and saw you outside your door with some preppy douchebag who was around your age, he felt this lump in his throat form as his heart ached. Sure he expected you to get a man eventually after all you are 24 and he’s in his 30’s. But he didn’t expect it to happen so soon. He also didn’t expect you to have such an effect on him the way you have but here he is, angry at you for moving on without telling him and angry that you aren’t his anymore. 

He feels bad for shouting at you today, for being so harsh with his words. He could see the tears pooling in your eyes right away but he was too pissed off to stop and now he’s almost certain that any friendship the two of you had is gone for good thanks to his vile actions.

Another 2 hours tick by and you’re still working at your pile, you’ve still got a lot left being that he’s included Friday’s in your load too. It’s going to be a long night so you pick your phone up and call Ashley.

“Ashley hey, it’s uh, it’s Y/N. Listen, i have to work late today so i won’t be able to make it” you announce and as he responds, Andy opens his door but you don’t notice.

“Rain check? Uh...” you trail off, trying your hardest to decide if you even want to see him again. It’s like you’re torn. On one hand you have Andy, your dream man. A man who knows your body like the back of his hands and a man who can more than likely take care of you if you just took a leap and told him about your feelings but then on the other hand you have Ashley. A guy who is your age and who makes you laugh a hell of a lot. Before you can even decide though, you hear a cough behind you. It’s Andy.

“Ashley can i call you back? It’s just now’s not really a good time, i have a lot of work to get done”

You hang up the phone as your eyes are locked onto Andy’s and the moment your phone is placed back onto your desk he wraps his large hand around your wrist, lifting you up off your chair and tugging you into his office. You watch as he locks the door behind him before going back to sitting behind his desk.

“You gonna see him again?” he asks, jaw clenched.

“I-I uh, i don’t know. I’m a little torn right now” your eyes settle on his plump pink lips, wanting nothing more than to bite down on his bottom one as you sink down onto his cock but you’re dirty thoughts come to a staggering halt as he speaks. “Torn with what? You like him right?” why is he asking you these things? Is he trying to torture himself with the details.

“Yes i mean no i mean I don’t know. I like him but i don’t think i can date him”

“How come?”

“Because i like someone else, in fact i love someone else”

Andy feels his heart sink further as more cracks appear threatening to shatter it completely. You love someone else and now he’s truly out of the game.

Rage works it’s way back into his body and he can’t help but take it out on you “did you sleep with him? Huh? Did the douche bag get to fuck that tight cunt of yours?”

At first you find him funny, laughing as you look around the room, anywhere but his eyes but then your own rage sets in.

“Not that it’s any of your business but no, he didn’t. We had dinner and that’s it” you state, matter of factly as you place your hands back onto your hips..

“Bullshit”

“Is that what you really think of me Andy? You think i’d just give it up to any guy that even looked my way. Wow, i knew you were a lot of things but vicious was definitely not one of them and what’s that i smell? Is it jealousy? Surely not.” you tut, shaking your head “I don’t think i even know you at all by the looks of things if you thought lying to me was better than being honest and trust me, i’m not jealous in the slightest, in fact i pity you. It’s your sex life that will suffer” he doesn’t falter for even a second as he stares you down and just as he anticipated, you’re the first one to break, looking away from him. You can’t help the way your heart starts to race from all of the fury filling up your body. How dare he.

“I was only keeping it from you until i found the right time to tell you. And don’t you dare think for one second that just because we’ve slept together that you have any right to comment on my sex life. You made it perfectly clear that monogamy wasn’t your thing so don’t be mad when i finally want to move on from being someone’s fuck buddy” you spit, heat rising to your cheeks as you realise what you just said. Fuck.

“I’ll comment on whatever i fucking want to so quit the bitching and yeah, i don’t do commitment but i sure as hell wouldn’t be with you even if i did”

You don’t respond to him this time, there’s no quick comeback to fire his way, no insult that could mean you having the upper hand again. Nothing is left but shock and disappointment. He really said that, he really played on your biggest insecurity. He played on it and used it to his advantage, to get the upper hand and win the argument.

“What? Got nothing to say?” he snorts, smug grin on his face. Watch his smile disappear now...

“I love you, Andy” you finally get the words out and you feel as if you’re going to choke on them and die right here in his office. Cause of death, unrequited love.

“W-what?” he’s practically speechless, his words barely audible.

“I’m so madly in love with you and i have been for a while now. But i continued to shut my feelings out and reject other guys because i came to the realisation that having you in any way that i could would be enough for me even if it meant that i couldn’t have you in the way that i’ve always wanted. But none of this matters now, right? Because you’ve made it pretty clear how you feel and where you stand. You wouldn’t date me even you did date and that’s fine but at least now both our cards are on the table”

He looks up at you, using his index finger to force you to look back at him and when you do, he looks so deep into your eyes almost as if he’s attempting to see into your soul. Like he’s trying to search for any signs of dishonesty.

“Why didn’t you just tell me? Instead of going out with other guys you shoulda told me and been honest about it?” is all he can say and that’s the last response you expected but what catches you off guard the most is how he said it, almost like he was hurt and relieved simultaneously.

“Andy, you’re my boss and you made it clear that you didn’t want a relationship” he has absolutely no right to lecture you about honesty when he’s spent the entire time he’s known you blabbering on about how the single life is better for him and how he’d hate to be tied down again. You roll your eyes as you move away from him when he attempts to move closer.

Silence falls upon the two of you and it seems never ending, leaving you no choice but to leave. The moment you turn around to walk away he’s on his feet too “where are you going?” the tone his voice makes it sound as though he’s pleading for you to stay without actually saying the words.

“I’m going back to my desk to do my fucking job, just like you told me to do earlier” you turn back around but just as you expected, he stops you “look. I’m sorry, okay. I was just mad that you”

“Mad about what? That i went out on a date? I’m a single woman Andy and despite our little deal, i don’t belong to you so you have no right to be mad at me for doing what any other single person does”

He bites down on his bottom lip as he runs his fingers through his perfectly styled locks, messing them up instantly “God, you’re so fucking infuriating”

“I’m infuriating? You really are clueless to your own behaviour aren’t you? I just told you that i love you and you still haven’t told me if you feel the same. So i think that says it all, don’t you?” you stop yourself before continuing your rant, trying your hardest to prevent something worse slipping out. Right now in your state, you’re bound to say things that you don’t mean and will later regret. “you know what, i think i’m gonna take the work load home and complete it there. I’ll see you tomorrow, if i still have a job that is” you raise your brows at him, praying he doesn’t fire you for your attitude alone. But to your surprise he doesn’t.

“You really think that low of me? That i’d ever fire you because of what’s going on between us outside of this office? Wow” he leans back on his desk and his shoulders drop as he slumps over, looking down at his large calloused hands.

“It’s what i assumed would happen. You’re really gonna pretend like you don’t want me gone after today?”

“I don’t, believe it or not. But i have no time to deal with this discussion any longer, i have to leave early today” he says as he goes back to sitting behind his desk again and turning his computer back on “i don’t expect you to stay any longer, you can take that work home and finish it after your date” he mutters the last few words, pulling a face as if they make him sick.

“Really? We’re back to that again. God i’ve had it with you” you spit, biting down on the inside of your cheek before strutting over to the door but his hand stops you before you even get yours on the lock.

“Let me go Andy. I don’t even want to look at you, let alone be stuck in a room with you” harsh, but in this moment it’s true. He’s done nothing but upset you all day long and even after your stupid decision to confess your love for him, he’s still doing it. You feel so defeated right now that you can’t take another second of his shit.

“Just one more thing and then you’re free to go and fuck whoever you want, whenever you want. How many guys have you been on dates with since we started hooking up?” the desperation is evident in his eyes as they pierce into yours, searching again but this time for the answers before you can even open your mouth to give them to him “one. It was only one date on Saturday night with Ashley” and that’s the truth. You would never repeatedly date behind his back, this was a one off. A one off you’re regretting more as the seconds tick by.

An awkward silence falls upon the two of you once more as he walks back over to his desk, pacing next to it and creating a draft. “Are you planning to see him again?” and he’s back with more questions. Why does he care so much?

He clearly doesn’t love you too otherwise he’d have said it once you confessed your feelings for him. Instead he left you looking like the biggest joke ever, the clown. And you feel so mortified for even believing he’d say it back.

Silly little Y/N, always catching feelings for men who don’t feel the same way back. You’re starting to feel as though you’ll never find someone.

But still his behaviour has you second guessing him. Maybe he does like you and that’s why he’s acting so hurt.

“Maybe i will, after all i am single. That shouldn’t be a problem, should it Andy?” you know full well that you’re pushing down hard on his buttons and you can see his cheeks turn red as his knuckles turn white from his tight grip on the side of the table.

“What you don’t like that? You don’t like the thought of me on top of Ashley, sinking down onto his cock as he touches my body and kis -”

Out of nowhere he interrupts you, slamming his fist down onto his desk “dammit, Y/N, what is it with you? Trying to make me jealous? Because i’ve had just about enough of you running your mouth” he pulls one of the chairs out, falling into it and spreading his legs “In fact. I’m so sick of your voice. Why don’t you come over here and put your mouth to better use? Huh? Maybe then you’ll shut up about that fucking douche bag” he is jealous, it’s so obvious to you now. He’s jealous of Ashley, jealous of the possibility of him spending time with you and he hates the thought of someone stealing you away from his tight grasp.

You can’t quite believe your ears or your eyes as he spreads his legs further, grazing his hand over the tent in his dress trousers and you can’t help the gulp that follows.

“Andy”

“Shhh, enough talking. I don’t have it in me anymore to argue with you, just come here” he insists but you stand your ground “no. i can’t keep going round and round in circles with you with absolutely no end in sight and with no hope for you to reciprocate how i feel. I’m sorry but i’m leaving”

Yet again, as expected, he clears his throat “fine. I guess i’ll just get off all by myself”

Like they always do around Andy, your legs turn to jelly and your eyes glaze over along with your better judgement being clouded by x rated thoughts of him railing you. The idea of him touching himself, working his hand expertly around his girthy cock causes arousal to flood your panties. How dare your body betray you like this. How dare your mind do the same. It’s not fair that every time you think you have the upper hand and the dominance, he comes along, snatching it away from you and proving you wrong.

You have absolutely no idea why you’re about to do what you’re about to do other than the fact that your body gravitates toward him like a magnet and it’s out of your control.

So without a second longer to fester or overthink, you spin around on your heels, charging towards him. Andy watches in awe as you drop to your knees and make quick work of his belt. Once you free his cock from the confines of his black Calvin Kleins and into your small hand you spot the droplets of precum oozing out of the slit on his red bulbous head. You look up at him through your eyelashes, batting them as you give the tip a couple of kitten licks before spitting all over his shaft and pumping him agonisingly slow.

“Fuck” he groans, rolling his eyes back as he grips the arm rests on the chair when you take him into your mouth “attagirl, sucking daddy’s cock like a fucking pro” his hands grip your face as he continues to watch you go to work, making a mess of yourself as you gag around him,

You don’t bother to issue a warning before taking all of him in your mouth, all the way down to his balls over and over. Making sure to hollow out your cheeks as you bob your head up and down, your tongue licking the underside of him as your hands grasp his balls. He starts bucking his hips up, attempting to fuck your mouth but you push him back down as a whole batch of unholy sounds that only you can elicit from him fall from his perfect lips, the sounds that are so loud and downright filthy that he has no option but to cover his mouth with his hand, biting down one of his thick digits to keep from exposing himself to his unsuspecting colleagues outside.

He soon pulls you off and you do so with a pop. He forces you to look up at him, his hand grabbing your cheeks and squeezing aggressively “no matter what undeserving boys you go out on a date with, no matter who flirts with you. You’re mine, always have been and always will be” he moves you to straddle his lap before he stands up to move the two of you to the couch.

“So no more dates princess, no more other guys. Because i’m the only one who gets to have you. Is that clear?” he cocks his brow up at you and you nod in response before mumbling a quick “yes” to satisfy his need for confirmation and assurance.

He lifts your knee length dress up to your stomach before he gets to touching you, squeezing at your ass cheeks a little too hard for your liking but you secretly love the way he gets so rough with your body, the way he smacks both ass cheeks repeatedly until you wince from how sore he’s made you.

“God, these clothes drive me crazy. Ever since that first day i met you, i’ve wanted you and when you started working here, i was so desperate to fuck you as you wore these stockings and these heels. You’re so fucking hot, princess and you have no idea how crazy you drive me when you bend over, shoving this ass in my face”

He starts to kiss your neck, sloppy open mouthed kisses on the spot that has your back arching as you grip onto the back of his neck to steady yourself. He’s working you up all the more, turning the pool in your panties into a river. You’re dripping wet for him, desperate for him to just fuck your greedy pussy, desperate to clench down around his cock as he pounds into you.

“You’ve done it before Andy. Many times in fact”

His kisses halt as he smirks at you, that devilish look in his eyes. It always drives you wild “do it again, please, i need it” you beg pathetically and much to your surprise, he does exactly that. He takes your panties, tugging them to the side and playing with your soaked core a little as well as touching your bundle of nerves. You whine into the crook of his neck as you urge him to hurry before he eventually pulls his pants further down his legs to position himself at your entrance better. You don’t even have time to breathe before he’s knocking the air from your lungs as he fucks himself to the hilt inside of you.

The way his pace continues to pick up until it’s rendering on animalistic is causing you to let out the loudest and sexiest sounds, it’s like music to his ears but he can’t have anyone hearing this. He flips the two of you over so that you’re below him, your legs pushed back to your head and you hold them in place. His hand covers your mouth as he slides himself back in, not making any effort to start slow “you’d better be quiet or everyone’s going to know what a naughty little slut you are” he continues with rough snaps of his hips as he fucks into you with reckless abandon and causing the sweet music you make to vibrate onto his hand.

“Yeah, like this? Like the way i fuck this pretty little cunt?”

Thrust

“Bet his cock couldn’t even touch what mine does to you, the way you cry out for more and scream my name every time. The way i can make you cum with just my words and my fingers. God, such a dirty little girl for me, ain’t that right, princess?”

Satisfied hums follow his questions along with a frantic nod as you feel the coil tightening in your stomach, like a knot twisting and pulling, you’re so unbelievably close that you can almost taste the impending orgasm. “Don’t make a fucking sound when i move my hand, okay?” again you nod in response and he moves his hand, smiling down at you with adoration in his eyes before moving his hand to your aching sex. His fingers pressing down onto your bundle of nerves, rubbing firm circles on it and as soon as your walls flutter around him, he knows your close.

“Gonna cum, huh? Gonna make a mess all over my cock? My filthy girl, go on baby, cream all over me”

Just like that, along with his permission you let everything go, allowing yourself to really feel the pleasure. Your walls flutter around him again and again and each time he pulls out of you he spots your juices as they cover his cock beautifully. The sight alone has his hips snapping harder, the sound of his skin slapping against yours bounces off of the walls in his office and you accidentally let out a lewd moan that he swallows with his kiss as you wrap your legs around him to pull him closer “cum for me daddy” your encouragement sends his entire world spinning as his thrusts stagger. 

His cock jolts inside of you, twitching like crazy before his cream fills you up deliciously, painting your walls in thick ropes. You arch your back as your arms wrap around his neck. You need to feel his lips on yours.

He kisses you so hard that your teeth clash, making the two of you chuckle into each others mouths before attempting again. This time his tongue forces it’s way past your lips, battling with yours as he rides the two of you through your dramatic and intense highs.

Once his hips still and he pulls out, he flops down next to you. The two of you are nothing but a panting mess. Chests rising and falling along with your erratic heart beats.

“I love you too” he confesses, making you gasp as you turn your head to look at his spent body, the way his eyes meet yours and tears pool in them has your eyes doing the same.

“Andy”

“I’m not finished. I’ve felt this connection with you since the day i first met you, it caught me completely off guard. When we made the deal for it to be just friends, i was upset. I wanted a lot more but i know i wasn’t ready just yet. But the way you’d draw out laughter from me that no one else has ever been able to and the way you’d boss me around only made my feelings grow. Then we fucked and it was like confirmation to me that i was well and truly screwed. But i kept coming back for more because it was like an addiction, i had to have you in any way that was possible and if sex was the only way then i’d have stayed single forever just to keep you close. I’d have done anything to be able to hold your body and kiss your neck and make you feel good. If doing that as just your fuck buddy was the only way then so be it. But i got to a point where just fucking you wasn’t enough. I wanted something real with you. So on Saturday-” before he can even finish you sigh, sitting up.

“You came to tell me how you felt? Andy, why didn’t you just say that earlier?” you don’t know how to feel right now. You’re so consumed by emotions that your head is spinning. One one hand you’re angry, annoyed and upset that he kept this from you and didn’t just tell you he felt the same when you confessed how you felt. But then on the other hand you’re relieved and happy that he does feel the same. This was never some unrequited love, it’s always been reciprocated and real. 

All the lingering stares you’d catch, all of the compliments thrown your way and the insults hurled at random guys who’d ogle you whenever you were out in public with him or whenever another guy at work would take an interest.

“I saw you with that guy Y/N and i broke down. Then today, i expected you to come in and talk to me about it but instead you sat down at your desk, acted normal and didn’t say a word. I was hurt that you’d keep this from me. I know we both felt these things and i know both of us were unaware of the feelings being reciprocated but you still didn’t tell me you’d even thought about seeing other people and i guess i just expected more from you, more honesty”

He’s right. You don’t have it in you to argue because he’s right. He might have had his reasons for hiding his true feelings but you hid your date from him and that’s a lot worse. How was he supposed to just come out with it when all he could think of was you with Ashley.

“You’re right. I was wrong, i didn’t even think about the effect it would have and i was selfish. To tell you the truth i only went out with that guy because i was trying to move on from you, i didn’t want to keep feeling this strongly with no possibility of you feeling the same so i did the first thing i knew to do, date some other guy”

Andy can’t say he isn’t relieved to hear you admit that preppy college boy means nothing to you but it’s bitter sweet, you saying that you thought your feelings were one sided so you wanted to move on to avoid getting hurt further makes him hurt too. You’ve always meant more to him than just some friendship or some steamy sex. You’re the first woman he’s even looked twice at since Laurie and that means a whole lot more than you’ll ever know or understand.

“So what now?” you ask, puppy dog eyes showing as you await his response.

“I know it’s a bit backwards but how about a date tomorrow?”

God, he really is so handsome, so sweet. His deep and raspy chuckles make you giggle along with him as you straddle him once again, crashing your lips to his, his beard scratching at your face just the way you like.

He pulls away for a second “is that a yes?” once more you shake your head, tutting at him “a thousand times yes, Mr Barber. Yes i’ll go out with you” he wraps his arms around you as he pulls you flush against his suit clad torso, kissing you eagerly and smiling into it. He finally got the girl.

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

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[primasveraas-writing]

“I will wait (for you)” -Luke Skywalker

Request: “I cannot get enough of your headcanons and preferences. Possibly could you do headcanons about the reader who wants to tell luke their feelings before they leave on a mission and opt out because they feel it's not the right time. Then when they return ( their missing took longer than expected) they aren't sure about telling luke for the fear that he has moved on. Luke senses that something is off and confronts the reader who then tells him their feelings. Thank you in advance, hope you are well. Sorry it's long.” -the-mcu-stu-fan

Thank you thank you thank you for your patience and for the wonderful request- I felt this worked better as a fleshed-out fic, so here it is! I really hope you like it.

WORD COUNT: 1114

XXX

“Luke.”

There are a thousand things you could say.

You’ve just received your new mission orders- long-term, undercover, highly dangerous. Typical for a member of the Rebel Alliance; leaving everything behind for the sake of the cause. Everything and everyone you care about, including-

Luke smiles at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling. Your heart skips a beat in your chest. When he looks at you like that, you can’t help but melt. Even before you truly knew the Jedi, before you became friends, Luke had that affect on you.

He takes a step closer, still waiting. Your mind goes blank, and suddenly the words are gone. You cannot force them out of your mouth anymore, and the opportunity has disappeared.

“I’m leaving,” You say instead, totally numb. “I’ll be gone for a few weeks.”

And that’s all.

---

Luke sends you off with a hug and a may the Force be with you. Your ship departs the next morning, and there’s barely any time for you to wallow in your regrets and imagine all the different ways that last conversation with Luke could have gone.

The Rebellion puts you behind enemy lines, deep in the heart of Imperial territory. Getting into position takes a few days, then you wait patiently for the information to flow your way. Weeks pass before you’re trusted, a comfortable part of the team, and slowly, piece by piece, you gather intel and help your fellow rebels from the inside where you can.

The hardest aspect of your work is knowing that if you slip up even once, you could die and put others at risk too. For the most part, you don’t let this fear plague you, but it’s harder to keep other problems at bay.

Like the loneliness. Knowing that everyone around you would kill you if they discovered even just your real name, that they’re constantly working to destroying everything you believe in.

Luke would tell you to be more optimistic. He keeps you grounded and gives you hope, which is why you value his companionship and advice so much.

But Luke isn’t here. And, as the weeks crawl into months, you push all thoughts of Luke aside. He isn’t here, and it’s been ages since you’ve last seen him, when you failed to tell him how you really feel.

The opportunity has been lost, you decide.

So you focus on your mission instead.

---

The thing about covert undercover missions is that when they end, there’s no fanfare to welcome you back.

You return to the Rebellion in the dead of night, exhausted and with a mission report waiting for you. Sure, you’re glad to be back, to be marginally safer now, but the Rebellion and the war change quickly, and you’ve missed so much of it. The lives of your friends, their fates, even their petty gossip- you’re behind, entirely out of the loop.

Upon stumbling back to your quarters, you flop on your bed with a groan. Your mattress isn’t comfortable, nor are your quarters anything but borrowed, but you’re more at home here than you were with the Empire.

That’s good enough, for now.

You sleep deeply, but wake up still tired.

---

The first day back is a blur- most of your higher-ups want an official report and a debrief, trying to glean everything they can from your experience. Some friends stop when they see you, greeting you with hugs and smiles, but for the most part, you’re stuck in command, doing your best to stay attentive and helpful.

It’s manageable until that afternoon. You’re between meetings, trying to remember the weapon arsenal on Imperial flagships when a brief hush falls over the command center before whispers break out again. You know what this means; you’ve seen the awe that follows the hero of the Rebellion, and sure enough, a familiar voice rings out a second later.

You can’t help but swivel around to see him. There is Luke, talking with Princess Organa, shaking his head at something she’s saying. He’s there for her, not you, and your breath is now unsteady, so you duck your head, turning back to your desk.

“Y/n!”

He’s seen you. You feel shaky, like if you weren’t holding yourself together, you’d start to cry. But Luke is making his way over, and you rise slowly to greet him.

Luke embraces you without hesitation, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing tight, a surprising chuckle escaping him as he does. “I didn’t know you’re back!” He exclaims, pulling back. His grin is wide and brilliant, and he beams at you.

You flash him a quick smile in return, explaining both your return and prolonged absence. “I missed a lot,” you trail off, and Luke bobs his head in agreement.

“You sure did,” he says, and your heart sinks. He’s an arms distance away from you now, and the awkwardness between you is palpable. A flash of sadness strikes you, but you force your expression into neutrality once more.

“I have to go,” you blurt automatically, gathering your datapad. Disappointment is clear on Luke’s face, but you cannot face him any longer, and you hurry from the room. Luckily, the hallway is deserted, and you exhale slowly as your retreat continues.

Then, there are footsteps behind you. “Y/n, wait!” Luke calls, and he’s running to catch up with you. You sigh and stop, preparing to explain yourself.

“What’s wrong?” Luke demands, his brow furrowed. “What happened; what can I do?”

He sounds heartbroken. Really, truly worried, and the hurt in his voice sinks your heart, reminding you that your affections are still there and still strong.

“I-” There’s a lump in your throat, and the idea of hiding any longer is painful. “I love you,” you say, voice near a whisper as you study your feet. “And I’ve missed you this whole time.”

The pause is long and horrible, and you cannot take this agony. You wince, then spin on your heel, ready to run again, but Luke grabs your arm.

“Wait,” he pleads. You meet his eyes, and there’s a well-known earnestness in them. You do wait, again, but only for a second, because Luke closes the gap between you, tugging you against him and bending to kiss you. For one glorious moment, the galaxy stands still, and light floods your senses as pure joy overtakes you.

“I love you too,” Luke promises when he’s done, resting his forehead against yours.

“Okay.” Perhaps there are better responses, but your head is spinning. You lean against Luke, wrapping your arms against his waist. Then, you take a breath, recentering yourself. “I’ll never wait to tell you again.”

[whump-town]

You Dance With Tears In Your Eyes

Summary: a college AU set up in the late 80s/early 90s with football star and quarterback Derek Morgan and his secret boyfriend Hotch-- it's not a happy story but I don't think I really have to warn you guys about that anymore

Also, a little based on a story my grandmother told me about my great uncle and his partner. Never met my great uncle but everyone says I'm a lot like him, I think they just mean gay but don't know how to say it

Warnings: homophobia, violence, racism *I mean it when I say homophobia*

Pairing: Derek Morgan/Aaron Hotchner

@yourlocalheartbreaker

The title is from Frank Ocean's song Self Control

Now and then you miss it, sounds make you cry Some nights you dance with tears in your eyes I came to visit, 'cause you see me like a UFO That's like never, 'cause I made you use your self-control And you made me lose my self-control, my self-control

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

Living shouldn’t be reduced down to what it is, the bare bones of things that don’t even make Derek Morgan who he is. He lives by them anyways, stupid rules. Social norms, Aaron always clarifies because even when those silly rules drown them Aaron needs to be concise. Social norms dictate every inch of life and for once Derek wishes he were the type of person who could be given that inch and take a mile. They’re the reason he can’t hold his boyfriend’s hand in public. Why he can’t kiss Aaron on New Years’ and why he is reduced down to loving his roommate. Why, at this rate, he’ll never marry or adopt children, or why he could lose any career he goes into because some nosy asshole finds out his partner isn’t a woman. And, yes, he knows there are anti-discriminatory laws but he’s a black gay man. The world is stacked against him.

It makes him so angry. He’s blinded by the irrational of it all, why nothing can just be simple for them. Aaron tries to comfort him but Derek’s anger scares him, he doesn’t understand it. Aaron has long lost the ability to decipher the complexity of human emotions. Still flinches at loud noises like he’s expecting each bump to be accompanied by the pain that laced his childhood and has to ask, around every turn, if Derek’s angry with him. He can’t tell. Everything looks like anger. With Derek, it frequently is. They cope in very different ways, Aaron chooses nothing. Shutting down all his emotions until he cracks and that’s worse. It’s worse than Derek’s anger. That doesn’t mean Derek doesn’t hate the way he quakes with fury. If not because it feels childish to be blinded by emotions then because it scares Aaron.

There are a million other things, at twenty there always is. It’s his philosophy class with all this bullshit reading he doesn’t understand. He has to ask Aaron for help and Aaron has to ask him for help with things too but it makes Derek feel stupid. It’s philosophy, it can’t be that hard. That’s the same way Aaron feels about calculus. There’s maintaining rent and going grocery shopping and football (games, practice, gym, and training).

College had been a learning curve. Getting up at four in the morning to go to the gym for football had been the hardest thing in the world without his mother flicking his bedroom lights on and off or Desiréecoming in to smack him in the face with a pillow. There’s no one in the entire world in charge of getting him out of his bed other than him and, in his freshman year, while he had thought sleeping on that impossibly hard mattress would leave much to be desired, and it did, he found himself glued to his every morning. Not wanting to leave the safety of its flimsy comfort.

Sharing an apartment worked wonders, having a workaholic boyfriend was really the best trick. An unexpected answer to his problems but, also, a very cute one. He managed to add one person to the list of people that cared about where he was, that made sure he got up in time to make it to the gym and practice, and asked if he had a bad day or rub at his sore muscles.

Derek rolls over in bed, not as surprised as he should be to find the other half empty. “Aaron?” He still searches, runs his hand over the sheets as if he doesn’t know that if Aaron were in the bed he’d be right there. Hogging the bed and the blankets, pressed up against Derek’s back snoring like there’s no tomorrow. “Aaron?” Derek sits up and squints, grimaces at the light trailing in from the open door.

Aaron’s hunched over the beginnings of an essay, pen ink smeared across his left palm and steadily chugging along. He can write a full essay in the span of a night, five hours for about 3,000 words but if it’s a short synopsis sort of thing then about an hour. Despite this astonishing gift, Aaron still makes himself write all his essays weeks in advance and spends days upon days proofreading and combing through them for the tiniest mistakes. He’s a straight-A student so he’s doing something right but Derek gets mostly As too with far less hastily. Aaron is just extra.

Derek steps up to the desk, doesn’t make a sound as he leans up against the side of the chair. He wraps an around Aaron’s shoulders, leans down to kiss his head. “It’s two,” Derek informs him, “come to bed. Please?” Derek’s exhausted. He feels the regret of being pulled from his warm bed. Each second feels like twenty minutes, the world sluggish and too cold. He leans closer to Aaron, wrapping himself around him. “You always smell so good,” Derek whispers. He presses his face into Aaron’s hair, catching the mix of scents.

“Bakery,” Aaron grunts. His answer as simple and concise as he always is but even more so now that he’s tired. Aaron had worked an on-campus job for the entirety of their freshman year but after he got a scholarship that would roll over each year after that (so long as he kept a certain GPA) he started at a bakery down the street from their apartment. Derek had always liked the way Aaron smelled, gently masculine in a way only Aaron could ever be, and it had mixed with the scents of softly, perfectly made baked goods he works around all day. Cookies and cakes. He’s picked up a few tricks, Aaron can make moist cakes and perfectly round cookies but his bread… It’s the best food Derek has ever eaten.

The first time Aaron made bread Derek got down on one knee and confessed “Aaron Hotchner if I could marry you I’d take you to the damn chapel right now”. To which he was lovingly pushed and told to “shut up” but fresh-baked bread (even if Aaron had taken a single bite and concluded he hadn’t ratioed the sugar right) is heavenly. He’s gotten much better since and it’s really hot when he’s standing there in one of his dress shirts with the sleeves rolled up taking his stress out on the dough.

And he can’t tell anyone. Can’t boast about his hot ass boyfriend or the bread he makes from scratch.

Derek crouches down by the chair, knows he’s winning when Aaron breaks from his work just enough to glance at him out of the corner of his eye. “Can’t this wait just a little bit?” he asks. “I want to sleep with my boyfriend and he’s out here writing an essay that isn’t due tomorrow and likely isn’t due for the next month.” Derek reaches up, strokes a strand of hair back behind Aaron’s ear. His fingers graze an open wound and Aaron flinches away, the pain unexpected.

The bare bones of Aaron Hotchner are the along the same in principle to Dereks-- all things that he cannot change. Even as he stands as tall as Derek, their bodies are not the same. Derek is lean from years of football, his arms stretch his shirts. He looks like an athlete, has the benefit of the doubt whenever he’s around men. His teammates walk naked in front of him, no one for even a second thinks anything of it. No one suspects him of the atrocities he commits within his apartment.

Aaron doesn’t have any of that. His hair is a little too long, hangs down in his face when he’s studying or reading. Nothing about him is hulk-ish, he’s delicate with his movements and while it had been something that Derek was immediately drawn to it also draws other’s attention. Bad attention.

The same boys that play around with Derek, snapping towels at him while he walks, terrorize Aaron.

Derek wishes there was something he could do because if this were anyone else- if Aaron were a girl- he could. It wouldn’t be dangerous, not the sort of thing that would cost him his football scholarship or get him stabbed and left to bleed out in an alley or beat within an inch of his life. He would have to out himself to protect Aaron, to stand in front of his teammates that coach keeps calling his family and tell them to keep their fucking hands off his boyfriend. No. No, because something like that would be death. It would be worse than what’s already happening. And Aaron won’t allow it.

All Derek can do now is await the next attack, leave Aaron someplace to come home to. Give him a place to be, without burden, without hesitation. It’s not enough. They’ll kill him. Derek knows they will and it’ll be fun for them, only a matter of time.

“Come to bed with me,” Derek asks one more time. He doesn’t want to sound entirely needy but he really doesn’t want to go to bed without Aaron. The bed is lonely.

With a sigh, Aaron nods and Derek stands up, moves out of the way so Aaron can throw pens in his textbooks to mark his place. He steps away, from the desks, yawning as he makes lazy lurches forward towards their bedroom. “Turn the damn--” Derek rolls his eyes and reaches over and turns off Aaron’s desk lamp.

He passes Aaron in the doorway, places his hand on his hip, and reminds him of their objective. “Bed,” he mumbles and Aaron nods, jerking back to life as he steps further into the bedroom.

Derek lays down on the bed, crawls over to his side, and gets comfortable while he watches Aaron lazily strip down to his underwear. He gets caught in his head again for a moment, standing there just blankly staring at the dresser. Trying to figure out if he should put on pajamas or not. Derek calls his name and opens his arms. “Come here, “ he says and Aaron smiles. Sheepishly he comes, blushing as he crawls into the bed and where Derek instructs him. Humming, pleased, when Derek brings the blankets up over them. His eyes are already closed, head tucked under Derek’s chin when Derek wraps his arms around him. Pulls him close, tight.

He’d read in a book about deep pressure, its effect on the parasympathetic nervous system. He’d studied Development Psychology for some time, thought about all the ways in which it checked every box of his interests. He thinks he might want to be a teacher. That’s where he learned about the importance of the bond between guardian and child. Where he learned a hug sometimes really is a fantastic answer to the most startling problems.

It’s also the fastest way to get Aaron to sleep.

“Tighter,” Aaron whispers. He can’t quite feel Derek’s bones pushing into him, the hammer of his heart still too strong. He groans, choking up a laugh when Derek does just that. Holds him tight, makes him ache with the proximity, his inability to move.

Derek doesn’t mind, he’s got an armful of bakery boy. Couldn’t be more content with anything else.

0000000000000000

All things considered, Derek didn’t actually face that much scrutiny when he told his mother about the stupid twisting and turning feeling in his stomach when Martel Harris put his hand on Derek’s back. Leaned in too close and Derek could smell the cologne he wore and feel his proximity like lightning across his skin. He’d thought it was just nerves but at the end of a football match Martel lifted him up, threw him up in the air, and God that had felt better than flying. Lit him up inside like he was something, someone.

Desiréecried and Sarah wouldn’t speak to him for a week, opposite reactions because of the same fear. Their mother always said the two of them were two halves of the same coin-- too alike to get along and too different to ever get away. They came around, their mother’s gentle hand always the voice of reason. Three stubborn as all hell kids, too much like their father. That’s what she tells the three of them, tears swelling in her eyes as she proclaims that none of it matters. Orders Desiréeto stop crying tells Sarah to get over herself. She loved and married a black man despite the death threats that followed them everywhere they went. Despite the people that called it blasphemous. Called it sin. As if love could be such a thing.

Her mother told her not to come home, not to call. She wouldn’t do that to her son, she knows it won’t change a thing. There’s something about love that makes you blind to the small pains. She never looked back twice, never reached out to her parents. She chose love and Derek will too.

But that doesn’t mean the fear goes away.

It doesn’t actually change a damn thing.

Standing in the tiny bathroom attached to Derek’s friend’s bedroom Aaron leans over the sink, letting Derek rub

shampoo through his beer-drenched hair. “I just don’t understand why they have it out for you,” Derek mumbles, his voice has deepened, his frustration laced confusion evident. They’re in a rather suggestive position, Derek’s body keeping Aaron bent over the sink-- ass to groin. Aaron shoots him a look out of the corner, a pretty clear “look at us right now and take a guess at why”. Derek ignores the look, he’s rather good at ignoring Aaron’s sharp looks. He shakes his head, grumbling some more to himself and gently working the shampoo out of Aaron’s hair. He leans closer, Aaron groaning as the sink bites into his stomach, and smells his hair. Derek groans, unsatisfied with what he finds. “Smells like strawberries with a slight undertone of beer.”

Sounds about as close to a win as they’re getting. “That’s as good as it’s going to get,” Aaron mumbles, grateful when Derek sits back up. While Aaron’s come to terms with the particular hand he’s drawn in the terms of college social lives Derek isn’t as quick to accept. He feels hopeless, a feeling he thought he’d escaped upon leaving Chicago and everything Carl Buford. Aaron can’t stand to see that look, the one he’s grown so used to seeing after events like this.

He pulls a towel down off the rack, starts trying to dry his hair. This isn’t the reason he keeps his hair short but it’s certainly a helpful addition to keep in mind. “Don’t overthink it, it’s not your fault.” Aaron could go blue in the face trying to keep Derek from coming up with a mile-long list of all the reasons why that’s simply not true. The truth is, it’s really not Derek’s fault. No one even knows about them. Their relationship isn’t the reason why Hunter Whatever-his-last-name-is poured his cup of cheap, smells like piss, beer over Aaron’s head.

Not that what happened downstairs can just be so beautifully summed up as just that. Hunter Whatever-his-last-name-is had grabbed Aaron as he was walking in, doing as Derek instructed by coming in the screened-in door at the side of the house. “Who’s dick did you come to suck?” and Hunter Whatever-his-last-name-is cupped Aaron’s cheek. Dug his thumb into the wound he created and smiled, grinned happily at the sight of Aaron trying so hard to getaway. Hunter’s grip relaxed and as soon as it did Aaron was blinking the beer out of his eyes. “Get the fuck away from me,” Hunter shoved him, hard. “Faggot.” Aaron hit his hip on the counter but said nothing, he’ll leave the bruise for Derek to find another night.

“I should say something to that pig,” Derek’s distracting himself with putting everything back in the bathroom the way it was before they came in. Straightening out the rug and fixing the other towels. “Let me catch him trying something--”

Aaron can’t take it, all of Derek’s pointless anger, his stupid guilt. He’s just had beer poured down his back. He can’t even accept Derek’s sweatshirt to replace his smelly shirt, can’t walk out of here wearing his boyfriend’s sweatshirt without getting shanked. The beer smells awful but he’s fairly certain getting stabbed is a whole lot worse. Derek doesn’t have to deal with that. No one messes with him because no one thinks to. “It’s because of how I look!” He’s shaking, bangs hanging down in his face still damp but no longer dripping water down his face. “You? You look normal. You get to walk around with all your football buddies, no one bats an eye at the quarterback, Derek. At least you like women too!” He points to himself, digs his finger into his own chest. “Me? I look the part. I can’t even pretend. Everyone knew, the whole world knew before I did!”

Derek just stands there, caught in the headlights trying to figure out what to say.

He wipes his eyes, jerks away from the hand Derek tries to put on his arm. “No. No!” he can’t do touch right now. Not like this, not when his body won’t hold still and his knees keep trying to buckle. It happens, this panicked cornered feeling, and usually Derek would hold him down. They’d sit on the floor and Derek would hold his arms down to his chest and they’d just sit like that until Aaron can breathe again. Bones against bones until Aaron feels the fractures of his humanity coming back together but for now, right now? He can’t do it. He can’t be touched.

“I want to go home,” he manages, lower lip quivering despite how much he wants to hold it together. “Please take me home.”

Derek just stares at him, stands there, and watches Aaron cross his arms over his chest and curl in, trying to squeeze the panic out himself. “Okay,” he caves. “Go on, I’ll follow you down.” It’s degrading, humiliating the fact that they can’t even leave this room together. Aaron’s upset and Derek can’t do anything about that right now. It’s not safe until they’re home.

It’s never safe.

With his hair dripping into his face Aaron stumbles in the dark. His shirt is soaking wet, stuck to his skin, and freezing him as tramples down a thin stretch of grass between houses. He wishes he had Derek’s sweatshirt. Something warm. At least something to cover his arms. It had been a stupid idea coming here right after getting off work. The bakery is so impossibly hot and after getting off his shift all he wanted was to be with Derek. To sit in whatever little room Derek could guarantee was safe and drink whatever cheap crap Derek brings him from downstairs. Just sit and listen to the music filtering in from downstairs.

“Hotchner!”

He freezes-- a deadly mistake.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

He knows what happened to Derek. In the hush of the night, laying facing each other in the dark, Derek had told him. Each word a puff of hot air against Aaron’s face, hitting the hot tears rolling down his cheeks. It was supposed to be even, Derek’s intention was to express alikeness. He’d seen the scars, no matter careful Aaron was about the light when he thought things were headed in the direction of nakedness, Derek saw them. He hadn’t said anything that time, run his thumb over the one on Aaron’s chest but kept up his ministrations. Acted as if he didn’t until that moment in bed.

Aaron still hasn’t found the courage to be honest about his own childhood.

Derek comes around the back, half-expecting tonight to go like it always does. Except Aaron hasn’t had any alcohol and he doesn’t come stumbling around the porch to greet Derek from the darkness. There are no stolen kisses or hushed laughter. No Aaron. Derek has half a mind to shout out for him, he couldn’t have gone off far, but then he sees him. Derek sees them. The moonlight shining down casting this awful hue between the houses. He sees Hunter draw his foot back and he can’t hold it back. Won’t let this go on. “Hunter!”

The second that Hunter’s attention is away from him, Aaron slumps to the ground. His blood smeared against the house. He’s still breathing, awful ragged breathes that shoot blood off his lips. He sees Derek in the moonlight, rushing past him. Aaron wishes he wasn’t a coward. Between each blood speckled breathe, he wishes that he wasn’t a coward and had just told Derek. That way he would understand Aaron can take it. He spent his childhood taking beatings for just being alive. At least now it was something coherent. Being beaten for being gay requires at least knowing something about him. His father couldn’t even bother with that.

But Derek doesn’t understand.

Aaron never told him.

He’s pulled down, out of orbit, and back to Earth when Derek squats down beside him, cradles his head in his hands. “Aaron?” he calls out, but Aaron can’t force his eyes to move from the dirt. “Can I--” Derek doesn’t know where to put his hands. If he can put his hands anywhere. “I’m going to-- to lift you, okay?” It’s not a matter of if he’s strong enough. He benches more than his own body weight and that’s significantly more than Aaron’s. He’s just not sure if Aaron’s going to fight him and if Aaron fighting him is good or bad.

“Lean forward,” Derek whispers, cupping the back of Aaron’s head and directing it into his shoulder. He turns, manipulates both their bodies and winces each time, no matter how gentle and calculated his movements are, Aaron still cries out. He still hurts him. “I’m sorry,” becomes his mantra. The only words he can manage out around the tears, the only thing he can get past the thickness in his throat.

Sorry he didn’t stop this sooner.

Sorry that he keeps hurting Aaron.

Sorry they couldn’t be other people. In other places. In another time.

Sorry that it’s all for nothing, that there’s no way this ends well for either of them. They’re going to end up dead or alone but certainly separate.

The second Derek has him in his arms Aaron grips his shirt tightly in one blood-stained hand. He rests his head on Derek’s shoulder, soaking in his warmth. “Home?” he asks, voice breaking.

“We’re going home.”

Aaron wakes up alone in bed.

He’s completely naked, laying with three blankets pulled up over him. One that he recognizes is from the living room. There’s one of Derek’s homemade sock heating pads digging into his sore ribs where he rolled over onto it, he can feel more of them underneath him. He’s been laying here for a while. None of the socks are warm anymore. He’s on Derek’s side of the bed, facing his nightstand, and watches Derek’s blurry alarm clock change time. 1:36 passing to 1:37 to 1:38 just waiting for the fuzzy fingers in his brain to ease up. To allow him to think.

It’s Saturday.

Derek’s off at a football game, not due back for hours. Not until tonight, long after Aaron’s gone to bed.

For an overwhelming moment, his eyes fill with tears, desperation, and solitude creating an awful twist in his stomach. He doesn’t want to be alone. Protectively he draws his knees up, tries to knot himself up, and create a mangled ball. His heart picks up, anxiety increasing as he lays there. He wants Derek. He doesn’t want to be alone.

On the phone’s first rings he curls in tighter, overwhelmed by his own crying that he presses his face into Derek’s pillow and ignores it. He’ll let the machine catch it-- that’s the whole reason Derek bought it. With a sharp end, muffled by the blanket he pulls up over his head, a voice comes through. The machine catching the voice mail.

“Aaron, sweetheart? This is Fran, Derek’s mom? I’m sorry to keep calling sweetie but Derek’s awake now. He’s worried, says you should have woken up by now. I can send Sarah to come get you, Derek told me what happened last night. Please call me back? I hope you’re okay.”

He lays in confused silence, trying to process why Derek’s mother would call him. She calls all the time and occasionally he answers to tell her she’s just missed Derek-- he’s off with friends, at the gym, or at class. They know of one another Derek talks about him to Fran as much as Derek talks about Fran to him. But Fran call him? That’s never happened.

Then he catches it-- “Derek’s awake now”-- and he sits up. Pushed from his mind is the pain, his ribs scream and the blood he can see he’s left on Derek’s pillow. Derek’s awake now. Hunter Whatever-his-last-name-is is on the football team. An offensive lineman. A guy whose entire job is to protect Derek but now he knows, he has to know.

Derek’s awake now.

He throws himself out of bed, clipping his already sore hip on the nightstand and staggering for the phone. Tears spilling over his face. What happened while he was sleeping? What did Hunter do?

Fran picks up on the first ring. “Aaron, is that you sweetheart?”

He sniffles, rubbing at his nose with his finger. “Yes, ma’am.” He knows she can hear him crying, his choked sobs as he falls in the direction of the closes chair.

“You had me worried sick,” she says and he can hear that unmistakable fondness in her chastising tone. That must be where Derek gets it from. It makes him smile, even if it’s weak. “How are you feeling, baby? Derek told me what happened. I’m sorry. If I see that boy I’ll wring his neck. Give him a piece of my mind for bothering my boys.”

He just nods, despite the fact that she can’t see that. He knows he should answer her question but he has no idea what he feels. Nothing. He feels nothing as he sits here holding his breath as he waits to ask about Derek. To know what happened because of him. “Is Derek okay? What happened?”

Hunter told a few other team members what he saw. Most brushed him off, Hunters a douchebag, and they like Derek. Others just hate Aaron enough for it to matter to them, enough to what to do something. Or, rather, not do anything. It only took one tackle, a limb bent the wrong way under the weight of three boys.

It was Derek’s knee. A career-ending injury.

A scholarship losing injury.

“Can I--” Aaron chokes. He’s afraid of what happens if Fran says no. “Can I see him?”

“Of course you can.”

Aaron turns away Fran’s offer of a car ride but Desirée still shows up.

He answers the door in a sweatshirt and jeans and knows immediately who it is when he opens it up. Desirée just stares at him for a moment, he can feel all of the seventeen-year-old judgment sizing him up. “You look… awful,” she tells him. She lets herself in, walking past Aaron with one more look. “Mom says I can drive but if you want to do it I have to let you.” She puts the car keys on the counter, sighs as she looks around. “Derek says…” she chews her lip, as she sizes him up again.

He wonders how intimidating he could possibly look to her. Hunched over and wearing a sweatshirt that’s too big for him.

“Would you teach me how to make bread?”

He can’t help but smile, nods without any hesitation.

“Really?”

Aaron nods, “it’s not that hard. More of a-- a waiting game. You have to give the yeast time to rise.”

Desirée has no idea what that means but she nods, “cool.”

He lets her drive. Mostly because his vision is swimming but because he tosses the keys back to her, a clear okay that she can drive, and she beams at him. She likes him. That’s so weirdly important to him.

She has to wake him up when they get to the hospital. The first thing she tells Fran is that he let her drive and Fran smiles at him, shakes her head, and says “you must have a death wish.”

Aaron blushes under the attention, eyes falling to the floor. He barely manages, “drives just like Derek.”

Fran laughs, nodding her head, “she does. Too heavy on the brakes.” Her smile fades a little when she sees Aaron’s sweatshirt, recognizes it from home. Knows it’s Dereks. “Will you let someone look at that,” she asks, too many of his wounds look deep. Cuts that need stitches and a nasty black eye that she knows he hasn’t iced. She’s reminded a little too quickly that Aaron and Derek are still very much kids. Tricky kids. Too old to be told what to do but still wanting direction.

Aaron nods, shying away again from the attention, but nods.

They leave him when the nurse steps in, doesn’t need to say a word. Fran sees him hesitate to lift his shirt and knows. Derek had managed to tell her most of what happened but the morphine made his speech slur, made him emotional. He’d sobbed, high and in pain. Told her what he’d seen the night before. Hunter hitting and kicking at Aaron, the way Aaron slumped forward. How he’d carried Aaron home. Washed the blood off him with a rag. She knew what was under Aaron’s shirt wasn’t something for them to see.

Derek wakes sometime in the middle of the night. The drugs from the surgery are wearing off and with it his blissful escape from the pain. Licking his dry lips he looks around the room, spotting his sisters and frowning as he tries to find his mother. She’s leaning over another cot, on the other side of the room. He watches her, hears the familiar chorus of Blackbird, and watches her stroke Aaron’s forehead, following the line of the relaxed brow.

It makes him smile, his mother used to sing Whitney Houston to him and his sisters to sleep. He told her about Aaron’s obsession with The Beatles, how of all the records the two of them own that’s the only one Aaron will play. Desiréebought the album, his mother told him a week later. She saved up to get it and was eager for her moment to speak to Aaron about it. To be able to befriend her brother’s boyfriend. That’s about the same time Fran began to hound him about bringing Aaron home, to Chicago. She wanted to meet him.

Fran kisses Aaron’s forehead, waiting another moment just to make sure Aaron’s truly asleep before she stands. “He was having a bad dream,” she tells Derek. In truth, he’d been crying in his sleep. In pain, she could tell, and restless. He’d settled with her there and it made her sad to think that maybe he’d just grown too used to sleeping beside someone else. She’d pulled his blankets closer and sang, just as she did with the other three when they were little. Even when they’re twenty, it still works like a charm.

Fran smiles, tries to soothe Derek’s nerves so he doesn’t worry about Aaron. He’s fine for now, sleeping soundlessly. She sits down on the edge of Derek’s bed, cups his cheek, and asks “how are you feeling?”

Derek just looks over to Aaron, his pale parted lips parted and the bandages holding him together. “Is he okay?” He’d been so scared last night watching Aaron sleep. No amount of Tylenol was doing a thing for his pain. Several times he’d sat up in the night and searched for a pulse, counted the far too many seconds separating each of his breathes. Derek thought Aaron might die right there beside him but he’d been more afraid of what might have happened if they went to the hospital.

Fran sighs, stupid love. It’s cute, she has to admit, but so senseless. “He’s sleeping, he’s okay.” She tries to redirect him, “how do you feel?”

Derek looks back over to Aaron. He looks. There’s more than just those pale lips and the bandages. It’s Aaron. He’s sleeping under multiples blankets and looks like himself. How he always looks when Derek rolls over to face him. He believes his mother, she never lies. “My leg hurts,” he whispers, voice cracking. It’s like the entire thing is pulsing, a continuous stabbing feeling. He cries but not from the pain. They betrayed him. The people he so stupidly thought of as his friends. They hurt him like they’d been hurting Aaron.

He should have known better.

He shouldn’t have been so stupid.

This is his fault.

“Derek?” Aaron sits up, hesitating under the combined attention of Derek and Fran.

Fran stands up, nods Aaron over. “Sit with him,” she offers. “I’ll go get a nurse.”

Aaron nods, still waiting, still hesitating to be where he wants to be. Derek motions him closer, manages to move his body over in the bed. Just enough room for Aaron to squeeze in beside him.

“I don’t think I”m supposed to--”

“Lay down.” Derek can see all the bruises and cuts up close again. He brushes his fingers through the hair above Aaron’s ear, turning his palm to his cheek. Gently tracing the outline of a bandage. “Runaway with me,” he whispers. He thought about it all night long while he watched Aaron sleep. “There’s only four more weeks left of the semester.” Aaron’s smart, he’ll get in anywhere he applies. “We’ll transfer someplace else, anywhere else.”

Aaron frowns, he doesn’t like the idea of this impulsivity. Mostly the number of uncertainties that it creates and the questions. Where will they go? How will they know it’s safe? Are they dropping out? Where will they transfer to? What Aaron can’t get into the college that Derek does?

“Hey,” Derek hushes, he strokes his thumb across Aaron’s cheekbone. “Hey, whatever you’re thinking stop. I’m not leaving, not going anywhere you don’t. We do this together, alright?” He smiles, leans forward, and softly knocks their foreheads together. “Four weeks and all of summer break, okay? That’s plenty of time for a smarty pants like you to figure out where we can go.” It had taken less time for Aaron to conclude Illinois was close enough to home for him to go if something happened to his mother but too far away for her or his brother to come to him.

They’ll figure it out.

“Runaway with me?” he asks one more time.

“Okay.”

[lovehotelreservation]

Mea Culpa

Summary: To apologize, to beg--simple actions that Emet-Selch simply could not bring himself to do.

But as he emerged in your room after things have soured between you both, he is willing to make amends.

In his own way at least.

Connected to “Late Night Visit”

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: DFAB!Reader/Emet-Selch

ME WORKING ON THIS COMMISSION WHILE FINISHING UP WITH 5.0 🙂🥺😭💔 GDI WHY AM I NOW A GOTHIC GILF F*CKER !!!!

THAT SAID MANY THANKS TO MY SWEET AND LOVELY COMMISSIONER FOR THE CHANCE TO EXPAND ON MY PREVIOUS PIECE!!! --------------

No matter how acclaimed and revered by countless souls across the realm, the Warrior of Light was just that.

A single warrior.

A single individual whose power, strength, and tenacity served to protect the weak and reprimand the wicked.

But from your eyes, you couldn’t have accomplished so much without the help of your friends: The Scions, House Fortemps, and countless others. The time you spent with them, whether during the heat of a dire battle or a merry night of feast and camaraderie, was something you held so dearly to your heart.

Still, as much as you enjoyed the company of your friends, it was the still calm of your empty room after a busy day that soothed your weary soul like nothing else.

And as the weariness from journeying back from Yx'Maja to your suite in The Pendants, more than ever were you relieved to be alone.

Especially for reasons that you were much too annoyed to begin recounting.

Sighing, you were in the midst of undoing your armor, but the fatigue from today made even attempting to undo the binding components an even bigger drain.

“Need some help?”

You froze.

And then your teeth grit from irritation as your eyes shifted away from the mirror of your suite’s vanity upon turning around.

The reason for your weariness was standing right in front of you.

Arms folded behind his back, lips curled into a smirk, eyes glinted with amusement, Emet-Selch made his presence known as he emerged out from the shadowy portal that was conjured into your room.

There were plenty of reasons as to why this mere action immediately drew your ire.

From the past week alone, it was already a journey through hell as you traversed through Yx'Maja and fended off sin eaters while providing assistance to the Viis of Fanow with your fellow Scions. However, with the unwelcomingly present Emet-Selch insisting on commenting on every move you made and every word you said with the most smug grin on his face pushed you far beyond your patience.

On the other end, Emet-Selch had just emerged into your room.

As he had done all those many nights before that resulted in the two of you being tangled together upon your bed.

He was your enemy.

And yet you allowed him to linger between your thighs nonetheless.

It was something that you were far from ready to reveal in the slightest to the rest of your companions. Any hint of the ongoing tryst you had with him was to be kept absolutely hushed, which he was well aware of.

But Emet-Selch treaded that boundary all throughout your time at Yx’Maja in front of the rest of the Scions. By your honed reflexes from all the time spent training under Widargelt, you were glad to stop his wandering hand from squeezing your behind while you awaited for Urianger and Y’shtola to finish decrypting some text chiseled on a temple wall, your fingers immediately seizing hold of his wrist while your eyes shot his pouting face an icy glare.

From that moment on, you chose to outright ignore him. Any quip was met with indifferent silence, your expression blank whenever he attempted to draw your attention.

And you were in no mood to change that now of all times as you promptly faced your vanity once again, your focus returning to removing your armor.

“Now, now, is that how you treat a guest who just arrived?” He hummed with the click of his tongue.

You did not respond, only focusing on trying to work on a stubborn tie with your armguards. Though, without needing to look back, you knew his expression had fallen to something of a pout.

“Mmm--onwards with the silent treatment then, I see.”

There was no desire for you to be the bigger person on your end. If cold you must be, then icy you would become.

At least, until you felt the unfortunately familiar warmth of Emet-Selch’s body press against you from behind.

“Pardon.”

The heat of his breath fell by your ear, the sudden sensation eliciting a shiver from your body as you felt his nimble fingers reach for the tie of your armguards, undoing it with absolute ease. As the sound of your armor fell to the floor with a clank, he continued with an amused hum, “The sight of a celebrated hero struggling with a mere strap irritates me to no end.”

Your instinct had your body moving to flip around to face him, but the arm that immediately slunk around your waist kept you in place.

At last, your silence was broken.

“If you think sliding up to me like this is gonna get you off the hook, you’ve got another thing coming!” You hissed as you craned your neck to glare at him while your fists balled at your sides.

“‘Off the hook?’ But whatever did I do wrong?” He hummed innocently, only to then sigh with feigned exasperation. “Do you think us Ascians to be so committed to the role of villain that you think we cannot tease and please at the same time? I don’t ever remember you being this callous, sweet hero.”

Your eyes rolled. “Again with your remembering?”

“Again with your forgetfulness?” He shot back, his tone taking on a surprisingly biting edge as his gaze narrowed ever slightly.

However, noticing your astonished expression, his features calmed, shifting from tension to teasing as he reached for your chin, his thumb stroking over your skin as he inspected your face. “Goodness, you really must be tired from your endeavors, huh, hero?” His head moved closer to yours as he hummed, “All that tension has you so fussy~ Let’s ease those shoulders, huh?”

Without another word, his lips planted right onto yours, kissing you fully while his other arm circled around you, his hold around your body complete.

Your instincts made you want to push back at him, to not allow yourself to concede so easily.

Yet, the expert probe of his tongue into your mouth combined with his roaming hands as he groped you freely to his heart’s content now that the two of you were alone was just so damn hard to resist. 

While the two of you had been plenty intimate up until this point, you barely knew much about him.

And yet, he knew your body like no one else.

When your mouths parted, the tension on your face had eased, your skin hot and flushed, your lips parted in a pant, all as your body continued to quiver from his hands fondling you all over.

Looking as pleased as could be, Emet-Selch chuckled wickedly as he admired your current state, “There we go--such a precious look on your face. Recollection can wait for another time--come hero, show me more of those lovely expressions of yours…!”

That cold expression you had earlier, that damned armor you were so focused on.

He saw to it that neither were in his way as he brought you over to your bed.

With your clothes soon joining his on the floor, your exposed body was for him to enjoy whole-heartedly. His lips dragged along your skin, circling over your nipples with soft suckles, kissing along your battle-toned torso, lavishing your clit with focused attention as his tongue lapped against your center.

The look on your face was far from icy at this point, now melted with pleasure as he continued his ministrations, furthered all the more once he was sheathing the full length of his cock inside of you.

Moments before, he claimed to help you relax, but the pace by which he was pounding away into your core was far from delicate, his hips pummeling you right into the mattress while his hands squeezed your breasts.

Mainly because he knew that an acclaimed warrior like you could take it.

Along with the fact that he had to make up for a week’s worth of lost intimate time between you both.

For as quiet as you had been around him, he dared not to kiss your lips, wanting your moans to leak out freely as he simply minded himself with marking up your neck as much as possible with kisses and bites--whatever would be hardest for you to try to hide or explain around your companions.

He would not have you silent around him.

Not when he still had yet to hear you refer to him by his true name.

Not as the Warrior of Light.

But as his beloved Azem.

[stubbychaos]

A Guilty Conscience

Chapter 10 of Saviin’ika

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3|Part 4|Part 5|Part 6|Part 7|Part 8|Part 9

Masterlist

Pairing: Paz Vizsla x Nurse!Reader

Summary: While you get used to your new role in the tribe, you make it your mission to meet the ones who are to be your family. While befriending some unlikely members of the tribe, Paz later surprises you with something that he thinks will make you happy, though it ends up having the opposite effect.

Rating: T

Word Count: 14,000 *Y’all idk how this happened, I’m so sorry lol*

Warnings: Some unresolved sexual tension, minor injuries and reader still dealing with a bunch of past trauma. Other than that, this chapter is pretty harmless!

Just a quick mention: Thank you as always to @datmando for inspiring me and giving me so many amazing ideas for this story!! You’ve helped me so much with this story and getting through writer’s block and I freaking love you <3 Thank you as well to @aerynwrites @hdlynnslibrary and @maybege for all being wonderful and I love you all for motivating me to write more Paz!!

Also thank you to @coredrive​ for the beautiful gifs you made!! If anyone wants quality gifs for their stories, masterlists, etc... please go to Kat because she was so freaking lovely and sweet!!

“Would you like one of my shirts, ner cyare?”

You turn around, coming face to face with an unarmored Paz who is sitting on the foot of the bed, his forearms lazily resting on top of his thighs as he observes the way you hopelessly shift the torn, silky fabric in your hands. You turn to face the culprit who is currently curled up in a white rocky ball close to the furnace in the main area of Paz’s private quarters, seeming completely unbothered and not regretful that she had used your only sleep attire as a chewing toy while you were in the shower and Paz was talking to the armorer.

“That would be nice, thank you,” You murmur softly, watching with a smile as he promptly stands and makes his way over to the dresser near his bed while you discard the torn, silky fabric.

Though a few days have passed since the fight without incident--much to your appreciation--you notice Paz acting differently around you and while it’s not in a bad way by any means, it still has your curiosity growing. You notice how he almost seems worried about letting you stray too far from him, though you’re certain it’s not because he’s concerned one of his own will hurt you again, but perhaps he has the same fears you hold in your very own heart. While you’ve only been with the tribe for three days, you find yourself getting less sleep with every passing day, afraid that when you wake up, you’ll be right back at the village infirmary with your estranged father.

Perhaps he’s anxious that if he lets you out of his sight, you’ll randomly decide to leave without a word or trace.

The thought amuses you and also fills your heart with grief, wondering how the Mandalorian could possibly conjure the thought of you even thinking about leaving the place that had quickly become your safe haven.

“I’m going to shower, if you want to change,” Paz gruffly voices as he approaches you with a thick, black garment and you perk up a little upon feeling how warm it is--how warm it will keep you.

Once the Mandalorian is in the refresher, you’re quick to strip your clothes, smiling softly as you neatly fold the emerald, long-sleeved dress that Ima had found for you in a designated stack of clothes that wasn’t being worn by anyone in the tribe. Once you are only in your shorts, you grab Paz’s black shirt that he must wear over all his padding and sheepishly tug it over your head, instantly relishing in how it smells just like him--all woodsy and spicy and just like the soap he uses. The material is incredibly thick, though it’s not stiff and doesn’t make it feel like you’re suffocating; it feels soft and comforting against your bare skin, engulfing you so warmly just like one of his embraces, though you still long for the intense pressure of his arms around you. The sleeves that usually come to an end just above his elbows now fall just a few inches above your wrists and the hem skims the middle of your thighs.

As you sit on the edge of the bed and get to work on tending to your braids and all the tangles from the hair you had chosen to leave down, you think of how surreal everything still feels and how all the horrors you had ever dreamed about running away from are currently above you in the village. You try your hardest not to think about it, and instead, your mind wanders to the tribe and its intimidating, rambunctious warriors that you’ve been interacting with in the covert for the past few days.

It’s been… an interesting experience, to say the least.

For people who you used to be terrified of until recently, you think it’s somewhat surprising as well as amusing that Paz had been correct when he mentioned them being quite mischievous when it came to you, though you’re certain most of it comes from you being an outsider and not understanding their language. It had already happened a couple times where you would be exploring the enclave, trying to memorize the tunnels and where different ones led, and you would run into a small group of Mandos speaking in their native tongue as you shyly approached them to introduce yourself.

Most of the time they would simply peer down at you while informing you that they already knew who you were--that they had seen you standing your ground against Paz, which apparently nobody in the tribe had ever really done before. It was quite interesting seeing everyone’s perspective towards their heavy-infantry warrior, how they knew him to be one of the strongest in the tribe and how they respected him for it. However, it was also slightly amusing that they seemed to have no problem making jokes at his expense--talking about how they were glad you were at the covert so he would stop being grouchy and angry all the time.

Ima, you found, was the exact same way, although she had no qualms about berating the man she called her uncle to his face.

Seeing the way the teenager and your blue warrior interacted with one another felt like some sort of special phenomenon that you had never really witnessed before--a relationship stronger than that between a sister and a brother, but not quite as profound as one between a daughter and father. You thought uncle and niece was a good way to describe it and though you’re curious as to why Ima doesn’t call anyone else in the tribe ‘brother’ or ‘sister’, you decide it’s better not to ask for the sake of accidentally bringing up a sad memory.

You’re too deep into your thoughts that you don’t notice a hulking figure emerge from the refresher minutes later, a few water droplets dripping down his shoulders and back as he mindlessly observes you combing through your hair with your fingers.

A small cough startles you and you turn your head to gaze at Paz, his helmet slightly tilted to the side as he stares at you through the guise of that unforgiving visor. Your fingers are still threaded in your damp hair, your bare legs dangling off the side of his bed with your sock-clad toes barely skimming the stone floor as you blink owlishly at him, still not used to seeing him expose so much of his skin.

He’s not saying anything and it has you slightly worried--have you done something wrong? 

“Paz, are you okay?”

His bare, broad shoulders tense upwards when you shift on the bed, finally working through a stubborn tangle as you tilt your head at him; you find yourself doing that a lot more lately and you think being surrounded by so many Mandalorians has their little mannerisms rubbing off on you.

You move to get up when he doesn't say anything, now worried that you really have done something wrong, but Paz shakes his head and squashes your worries immediately.

"No--I mean, yes," He huffs and shakes his helmet a little harder when you stand up next to the bed to pull the thick fur away from the pillows it's tucked under while he moves to turn off the lights, "I'm fine, just a little tired, cyare."

You nod your understanding, feeling your own exhaustion creeping up on you, though today had been a relatively easy day in regards to treating scrapes and bruises. You’ve come to find that some of the younger, less trained Mandalorians aren’t exactly the most graceful on their feet, some tripping over their own capes while descending staircases, while others who are less skilled with blades or blasters manage to slip up and injure themselves. It’s definitely not the kind of injuries you’re used to tending--minor ones--but you find it much more pleasant and rewarding than your job in the village, especially when everyone here has treated you politely, for the most part.

You know that even while you had been accepted into the tribe, it doesn’t quite make you part of the family to some, especially to those who still felt as though you should swear the creed to be fully accepted. It was a big detail you had worried about quite a bit, whether or not you would have to swear the creed and wear a helmet just as the rest of them, but you think that perhaps it is a topic you should speak to the armorer about.

You slide underneath the heavy fur and exhale a content sigh, reminding yourself that such worries could wait until morning.

A yawn leaves you just as you hear the quiet hiss of Paz’s helmet being removed before he places it on his nightstand and a tired smile stretches your lips when you feel the mattress dip underneath the weight of the warrior’s body.

Before you can even turn to face him, his huge arm is wrapped around your waist and he’s carefully moving you closer to him; an intense warmth spreads throughout your cheeks when he holds you close, your back pressed firmly against his chest as he wastes no time in placing a kiss to the top of your damp hair. You can feel the heat from his bare chest already spreading throughout your entire body and you curl your legs back to press your feet against his bare ankles.

He lets out a small huff as he curls his fingers into the soft material of his shirt covering your abdomen and leans down to press a tender kiss to your cheek, “You are lucky I love you, or else I would not let you wear socks in our bed.”

The ‘our bed’ comment definitely doesn’t go over your head and you hold back a giggle when he sighs against your warm skin, his thumb stroking firm circles near your belly button, “I cannot help it that my feet are always cold.”

His chest rumbles with a soft laugh as he settles behind you, his hand moving a little lower to your hip, just underneath where your cauterized wound is still healing, and he gives you a gentle squeeze, “I told you that you’d do nothing to warm our bed up, mesh’la, I knew I was right. You’re always freezing.”

“If I recall correctly, you told me that you would not mind keeping me warm,” You remind him of what he had said the night he had told you his name, your cheeks growing hot when you feel his lips against the outer shell of your ear, “And you are doing no such thing, ori kebiin.”

“You are a funny woman,” Paz is still trying not to laugh as his hand comes up to cup your jaw, long fingers splayed widely against your burning cheeks, “You feel plenty warm to me, sweetheart.”

Realizing that there’s no way of beating the Mandalorian at his own game, you give up and simply shuffle your curled toes between his calves, making him grunt a little when he feels the blocks of ice that are your sock-clad feet through the material of his sleep pants. He cups your jaw and urges your head to the side a little, using his thumb that’s pressed to the corner of your lips to seek them out with his own.

This close intimacy is certainly another thing you’ve noticed since you forgave him after the fight--him wanting to kiss and touch you whenever it’s just the two of you. It’s definitely something you don’t mind, you realize as his tongue firmly swipes across your bottom lip, and you find yourself growing more comfortable and relaxed when it comes to accepting little touches from him. You can tell that it’s something he’s nervous about when you two are just laying in his bed, wide awake when sleep refuses to wrap itself around the two of you--that he’s worried something he does will set you off.

He always tries to keep his touches to your thighs and hips feather-light after politely asking if it’s okay for him to touch you there and a part of you wonders if he’s already concluded that you’re simply not used to people asking you for consent when it comes to certain things.

Even if it’s not the reason why, you’re still grateful he always asks and his consideration fills your heart with warmth whenever he seems so hellbent on making sure you’re comfortable when you two find yourself in these sort of intimate settings. It doesn’t necessarily feel like it’s him testing your boundaries, but more so him seeing what you like and what gets certain noises out of you, though you find your skin quite sensitive to every nip and lick he inflicts on you.

A part of you is grateful that he usually lies on his back when the two of you are holding one another, as the thought of being pinned underneath anyone again, even your blue warrior, lingers like a storm cloud in the back of your mind.

Currently, however, you focus on the way his fingers tentatively curl around your thigh, just below the hem of the shirt he had given you and your lashes flutter as he guides your head back a little so he has more access to your throat. He seems a little more eager tonight, you think, and as his fingers curl into the thick fabric at your thighs while he dutifully presses tender kisses to your sensitive skin, you start to slowly put the pieces together.

“Paz?” His name comes out in the form of a breathy whisper as he settles back to press a kiss into your damp hair.

He still seems slightly dazed as he brings his arm back to curl tightly around your waist, “Hm?”

“Earlier, when you were staring at me when you came out of the shower,” You grin a little when you feel the way his arms tense around your middle, “Was it… is it because I’m wearing your shirt?”

Paz huffs an amused noise and you’re certain you’ve left him flustered for once as he slowly shifts his body until he’s able to rest his chin against the slope of your neck, “I like the way you look in anything, cyare, but something about seeing you wearing my clothes--it does things to me. I can’t say that I am upset that your vulptex tore up your nightgown, not with how beautiful you look right now.”

“You can’t even see me right now, silly man.”

“I don’t need to,” He mumbles, his beard scratching your sensitive skin as he lazily tends to all the little marks he left behind with his lips and teeth the previous night, “I remember everything about you, ner cyare, like how your eyes always get big whenever you see me taking off my armor and my clothes. Perhaps my sweet little nurse isn’t as innocent as I thought.”

You nearly let out with a whimper when you feel his tongue on your skin, your cheeks burning furiously as his hand cautiously grazes up your thigh, “Is this okay?”

His tepid breath fanning along the column of your throat makes you shiver a little and your voice cracks a little when you speak, “Y-Yeah.”

“Yeah?” He repeats with a soft sigh, his hand moving past the little shorts you typically wear to bed and up to your bare hip, just underneath where your blaster wound is still tender, though not nearly causing you as much pain, “Stars, your skin is so damn soft and your hair smells good--just like those flowers you’re always wearing.”

You let your eyes close as he continues to explore your stomach with feather-like strokes, seeming content to simply warm you with his large hand and you feel your thighs clench together firmly when he rubs a sensitive spot just underneath your belly button. His hands are leaving a scorching blaze in their wake and you feel a deep shudder wrack your body upon feeling the wet, open-mouthed kisses he’s leaving just underneath your earlobe. 

Despite the ache between your thighs, you jump when his fingertips barely graze just above the hem of your shorts and he immediately freezes upon feeling the tension in your body.

“I’m sorry,” Your ears grow hot with shame and you think he must be frustrated with you for not feeling ready to be intimate on this kind of level yet, “I just--”

“Hey, don’t you dare ever apologize for knowing when you’re not ready,” He whispers, moving his lips away from your jaw and removing his hand from underneath the shirt he let you borrow, “I shouldn’t have done that--I should have asked first.”

“It’s okay,” You weakly reassure him, smiling softly when he politely fixes your shirt, dragging the hem back down your thighs, “I... I want to be with you like that and I thought I was ready but I... I don’t know.”

“You do not owe me an explanation. I would never pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to do,” Paz promises in a rushed tone as he moves to unlatch his arm from around you, though you are quick to stop him, “I am sorry if I was too forward, cyare. I want you to only ever feel comfortable around me and if I ever do or say anything that you don’t like, please tell me, okay? I’ll never be mad at you.”

“I love you, Paz.”

He relaxes against you and presses another tender kiss into the hair above the tip of your ear, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, ner cyare.”

You smile into the darkness at the warmth his words bring you, though you can’t help but to feel doubt towards yourself and you turn your head a little over your shoulder until his warm breath fans across the plane of your cheek. Even though you can’t see him in the slightest, you like to imagine his eyes scanning your face thoughtfully--curiously--and you hear him let out an inquisitive hum when you murmur his name.

“I haven’t been able to sleep the last couple of days,” You admit softly, placing your hand on top of the much larger one that’s resting just under your sternum, “I’m scared that every night here is going to be my last one--that someone isn’t going to want me here because I haven’t sworn to the creed and that I don’t wear a helmet or armor.”

Paz exhales softly and you close your eyes when his minty breath tickles your nostrils, “Our alor already knows that you were to be brought to the tribe to be our nurse, not a fighter. I made it clear to everyone that you would not have to wear our armor and if anyone has a problem with it, they can take it up with me or the armorer. You’re not going anywhere… not if you don’t want to.”

You detect the way his voice lowers into a much more sheepish, subdued tone upon whispering the last part and your suspicions from earlier are proved correct.

He’s afraid that you’re going to change your mind about staying with the tribe.

In an attempt to squash his own fears and insecurities, you wrap your fingers around his wrist and urge his arm up past your chest until you are able to lean your head down a little and kiss his calloused knuckles tenderly. He lets out a content sigh as you let him splay his fingers out widely against the swell of your breast, your heart pounding frantically against his palm while his thumb studies your firm pulse at the base of your neck.

“I just want to be wherever you are, Paz,” You murmur, your lips stretching into a smile when he tenderly kisses your cheek again.

“I feel the same way about you,” He sighs, finally relaxing completely as you keep his hand cradled to your chest, “Anything else you’re losing sleep over, cyare?”

For a moment it sounds like he’s teasing you, but something about the rawness and sincerity of his voice makes you think differently and you swallow the lump in your throat as you think of the little boy from the nursery--the one that had clung onto your leg and hugged you. Though a part of you wants to ask Paz more about how he was found and what happened to his parents, you think it best not to ask and shake your head a little bit.

It is none of your business.

“Try to get some rest,” Paz murmurs against your cheek, his beard scratching your sensitive skin, “I’ll make sure to wake you up if you have any nightmares.”

You murmur a tired ‘thank you’ and let your eyes slip shut, feeling reassured by his words and the feathery press of his lips against the tail of your brow, along with the way his thumb continues to rest atop your pulse point at the bottom of your neck.

For once, you sleep restfully--not necessarily dreaming of much, but not really having any nightmares either. You’re stuck in a strange limbo for the rest of the night and at one point, you feel Paz stroking your brow in an effort to calm you down upon feeling your body jolt when you wake from a strange dream that has you crying out.

As you fall back asleep underneath the comforting guidance of his hands and sweet whispers against the shell of your ear, you briefly wonder if the heavy-infantry warrior ever sleeps.

The next morning when you wake up and tiredly crack your eyes open, Paz is already fumbling around the little kitchenette, his helmet and underclothes now on and you prop yourself up on an elbow as you watch him set a wooden bowl down in front of your excited vulptex. The dish is filled with colorful fruit and chunks of meat and you think it must be the best meal she’s had since she was born, what with her dramatic reaction. She lets out long, happy little squeaks between bites and you think you hear something reminiscent of a laugh or a chuckle from Paz’s vocoder when he reaches out to graze a bare hand along her rocky spine.

“And here I thought you hated her,” You murmur with a yawn, stretching your arms above your head before gracelessly rolling out of bed, the room dimly lit as you make your way over to your beloved companions, “You and everyone else are always calling her a runt.”

Paz snorts and shakes his head a little, tilting his head a little as he hands you a bowl of fruit that has some yogurt underneath, “She is a runt, saviin--doesn’t mean I hate her for it. Besides, she tried to bite Djarin in the leg yesterday, so I guess she’s starting to grow on me.”

You huff a little at that as you savor the fresh berries, your taste buds still not used to such sweet food, and you shake your head at your Mandalorian, “You better not be training my sweet vulptex to attack others, Paz.”

“I would do no such thing,” Paz still sounds a little smug as he begins to put on all of his thick padding and heavy armor, “I’d only train her how to attack the bounty hunter.”

You roll your eyes and watch as he puts his armor on piece by piece, the same way he’s done it every morning for the last couple of days he’s been here. It must be a routine for him, you think as you watch him clip his pauldrons in place and work his way down his body; you find the whole process to be mesmerizing and you wonder if he’s been doing this every single day for nearly his entire life.

“I can feel you staring at me, cyare.”

You feel your cheeks warm up when you promptly turn your attention to the breakfast that Paz had kindly made for you, though you had insisted the previous mornings that you didn’t expect him to do this for you. Your heart warms when you remember how he had admitted that it made him happy to see you enjoy little basic necessities that you had been robbed of nearly your entire life and you stopped arguing after that.

Though it was only yogurt and fruit, you still felt like the most spoiled woman in the galaxy.

After completing your usual morning routine, along with braiding the top half of your hair around the crown of your head, you pick out your clothes for the day and scoop your needy little vulptex into the crook of your elbow, her favorite resting place, it seems.

“What am I going to do when she gets too big and I can’t carry her like this?”

Paz snorts as you wait for him to snap his gauntlets into place around his black, leather gloves, “If you didn’t spoil her so much and carry her around all the time, this wouldn’t be a problem, cyare.”

You pout a little at that, struggling not to smile when he gives your earlobe a playful tug once he’s finished with his big gauntlets, “Her leg is still sore--would you really be so heartless to make her walk around the covert?”

“She seemed to have no problem limping around until you showed up and started carrying her all over the place.”

Not having a solid rebuttal to the playful words, you simply shake your head and watch as he checks all the big pouches attached to his utility belt. Your eyes immediately land on the vibroblade sheathed at his hip and you let out a shaky sigh when you remember the Trandoshan, though Paz seems to notice the change in your attitude and shields that side of his body from you.

“C’mon cyare, we have a long day.”

Following close behind Paz, the two of you make your way out of his private quarters and down the tunnels where others are starting to trickle out of their rooms as well. You’ve come to find that with the exception of a few Mandos, the tribe tends to stick to a pretty strict routine of going to bed at a certain time and waking up earlier, though you find this to work out quite nicely for you. Whereas once you were getting two or three hours of sleep a night, along with maybe a thirty minute nap on your break, you now have the entire night to rest, even if you don’t always get the best sleep.

Perhaps he’s worried that you’ll get lost, even though you memorized the directions to your little office on the second day of being at the covert, but you allow Paz to guide you there anyways, grateful for his company when you know you won’t see him until tonight. Though you feel slightly sad upon making it to your destination, you’re somewhat anxious and eager to see what today brings you and who you might meet.

With a gentle kiss of his Beskar forehead against yours, you and the heavy-infantry warrior part ways for the day and you contentedly enter the little office that you had managed to clean up pretty well since your arrival. As you enter the little alcove, something feels off and you quickly detect the sounds of soft hums and discontented grunts. 

You freeze upon finding out that you are not the only one occupying the room and your brows shoot up at the strange spectacle taking place in front of you.

In front of your desk, where you had placed a small pot of violets that you’d taken from the room Paz and Ima had decorated for you, is an unarmored Mandalorian who’s currently inspecting something you wrote down on a little notepad the previous day. Though the Mando is wearing a light grey helmet with chipped away emeral trimmings around the visor and cheeks, you think they must be one of the elders in the tribe, what with their hunched over form, wavering hands, and the long staff they wield.

You don’t miss the sharp, pointed tip of the walking stick that is made from what you’re certain is Beskar and you make sure to approach slowly, not wanting to frighten the Mandalorian, though the thought of you startling a warrior is slightly amusing to you.

They’re humming something that you can barely make out through their modulator and your lips instantly stretch into a faint grin when you realize they’re reading the little list you had started of all the Mandalorians you had met in the tribe so far, along with the colors of their armor and their names to help you memorize the people who are supposed to be your new family. You watch with curiosity as the unarmored Mandalorian grabs one of your pens from the little cup next to your notepad, leaning down to try to scribble something down, though they seem to grow frustrated with how shaky their hands are.

You decide to step in when you hear a disgruntled voice uttering curse words under their breath that you’ve never even heard Paz say before and your cheeks grow warm.

“Hello, may I help you?”

Immediately, the Mandalorian whips around with a small gasp, making you jump as well and you hastily take a few steps backwards when they turn around to face you, their hand pressed tight to where their heart must be frantically pounding, just like yours currently is. Your eyes are wide, hands nervously clutched together as the Mandalorian tilts their faded, scuffed up helmet to the side while observing you closely. Though you think they must be elderly, they stand about only one or two inches taller than you and you’re finally grateful to meet someone who isn’t terrifyingly large or as tiny as one of the younglings.

“You cannot sneak up on me like that!” He lightly admonishes in a deep, gruff voice, still holding his bare, wrinkled hand over his heart, “I am not nearly as alert as I used to be, but it doesn’t mean I can’t deal out some damage still.”

He lifts the staff to show you the pointed, steel bottom of it and you immediately nod your understanding, bowing your head a little, “Of course, I am so sorry! I wasn’t sure if you were hurt or not and I just thought…”

You bite your bottom lip nervously--what were you even thinking?

“Ah, I see,” He seems to relax then, pulling out the chair in front of your desk and sinking down into it with a pained grunt while you continue to wring your fingers together in an anxious manner, “So you must be my replacement--the nurse Paz insisted on bringing to the tribe.”

Maker, did your Mandalorian actually tell the entire damn tribe about you?

Your leg bounces as soon as you take a seat at the end of the medical cot and you brush a few unruly hairs from your forehead before speaking to the elderly man, “I wouldn’t necessarily call myself a replacement, sir. I’m sure I could never be as good of a medic as you are for your people. I’m just here to help out as much as I can.”

He chuckles and shakes his helmet at your humbled statement, propping his steel cane against his thigh and you feel a twinge of sadness deep within your soul as he stares down at his trembling hands. You notice his right hand is trembling more than the left and you think that must be his dominant hand--the one he would typically use for certain medical procedures--and you remember what Paz had mentioned about the tribe’s medic growing too ill and shaky to actually help others.

‘No wonder why the office was so dusty and everything was unused,’ you think to yourself sorrowfully, your eyes taking in all the big dents and scuff marks on his gray and crimson helmet.

“Hey, don’t give me those sad eyes, little one,” He admonishes you again and though you don’t remember having any kind of grandparent in your life, you think being scolded by this man must be what it feels like to have one, “I was told by Paz that you are a tough one--a warrior, just like us.”

You offer him a wry smile, “I suppose he didn’t tell you that I tend to cry quite a bit as well?”

“Oh, he definitely mentioned that,” The Mandalorian chortles and you can’t help but to grin at that, immediately feeling better at how playful he sounds, “I was hoping he was messing around with me--our people aren’t exactly the best with tears and emotions, but I suppose it is not a bad thing. During times like these, the tribe could use a little more happiness and vulnerability.”

You contemplate his words deeply, thinking of the few times Paz had informed you that because of the Empire, his people were nearly extinct and you wonder how this stranger could so easily accept you into the tribe without really knowing you. Seeing how worn out and damaged his dented helmet is, you can’t help but to wonder what he’s been through and though he seems to be more of an eccentric member of the tribe, you’re certain he’s been through hell and back.

“If you do not mind me asking--” You offer him a fond gaze, your smile growing when he tilts his helmet dramatically to the side, his Beskar cheek nearly touching his shoulder, “May I have your name? I am trying to learn who everyone is, but the visors are all the same and sometimes the color of armor is similar and--”

“I get it,” The older man sounds like he’s amused and you briefly wonder if he was once an outsider like you, though you find it rude to ask, “I was about to write it in your little notebook, but I fear my hands are too unsteady for you to understand my writing, little one.”

You perk up and quickly stand up, making your way over to where he’s sitting before you crouch down in front of your desk and grab one of the several pens in the little cup near your notebook. The Mandalorian makes a funny noise as you give him an inquisitive glance, wordlessly asking for his name with a quirk of your brow and though he wears a typical Mandalorian helmet, you think he must be grinning underneath his Beskar guise.

“Ezir Ralas.”

You somehow manage to write down his name as fast as he spells it out for you and you grin at how demanding he sounds upon spelling every single letter out and how he describes the exact colors of his faded helmet. There’s something about his lighthearted tone that makes you think he’s not as intimidating as every other warrior you’ve encountered since being brought to the covert.

“Well, it is lovely to meet you, sir,” You beam at him as you make your way back to the medical cot to sit on while you wait for your first patient of the day, “Have you been the tribe’s nurse for very long?”

He chuckles again, long fingers curling against his knees, “Oh yes, I’ve been with the tribe since we were forced into hiding years ago. Before all of this, however, I was a field medic for my people on Mandalore, back during our civil war.”

“Oh, I um, I had no idea there was a civil war,” You frown at this new information, briefly wondering if Paz knows about this, though you think he must, “That must have been so scary to be out there on a battlefield, trying to save your own people.”

He lets out a small grunt as he leans forward to rest his forearms atop his thighs, “Even though I am a medic, I was also born and raised a fighter, little one. Though the things I have seen haunt me at night when I cannot sleep, I would not so willingly admit that I was ever afraid.”

You slowly nod and gaze down at the steel pendant that hangs between his collarbones and you recognize it as the one you often see around the covert, or in the morning when Paz tucks his own into the collar of his tunic. Seeming to recognize your curiosity towards the skull sigil, he unties the knot at his nape and holds out the necklace for you to inspect up close.

With great eagerness, you reach forward to accept the kind gesture, “Is it rude of me to ask what this is?”

“It is not rude,” Ezir sounds amused by your curiosity and your cheeks grow warm as you trace over the sharp horns protruding from the cheeks of the skull with your thumbs, “It is the skull of a beast that was once native to Mandalore--the mythosaur. They were these enormous monsters with teeth and horns sharper than a sword made of Beskar and when they tried to attack my ancestors, we either slayed them or conquered them and rode them as transportation.”

“How big were they?”

“Massive,” He flippantly waves a hand in the air, appearing far too nonchalant while speaking of terrifying beasts, “Well, I would imagine they’re the size of the village currently above us, little one.”

Your eyes grow wide and a chuckle escapes past his modulator at how incredulous you sound, “And you’re ancestors fought them?”

“Without hesitation,” He informs you and though the image of a monster so fearsome and enormous terrifies you, it also fills you with feelings of reverence and awe, “After the beasts went extinct, the mythosaur skull became a symbol of our people and all that we had overcome; it is a symbol of our history and culture.”

You hum quietly, barely noticing the way his tilted visor is trained on the way you tenderly trace all the curves and divots of the pendant with admiration, a smile tugging at your lips as you think of the symbolism behind the sigil. Suddenly, you understand why people have always murmured terrifying rumors of the Beskar-clad enigmas and you think it must be true that they’re the strongest warriors in the galaxy. You wonder what it must feel like to exude such power to the point where people fear you without even knowing who you are and though you still regret feeling so much terror upon initially meeting Paz, you’re suddenly grateful that you’d eventually let him into your heart.

“Perhaps one day, you will have one of your own,” Ezir concedes and your head snaps up to peer at him with shock; you hand the pendant back out for him to take, feeling undeserving to be holding something so precious to his people, “Oh, don’t give me that look. You may not wear our helmet or armor, but once I teach you some Mando’a and get a weapon in your hand, you’ll be a fearsome warrior.”

You think of what Paz had mentioned about the others in the tribe teaching you Mando’a, and while you’ve only known him for a few minutes, he seems to be a respectful man, albeit a little quirky.

“What does riduur mean?” You blurt out, your skin instantly growing warm when you see Ezir’s shoulders shaking as he laughs at the innocent question; suddenly, you fear that everyone has been saying something demeaning about you, “I just... everyone in the tribe keeps calling me ‘Paz’s riduur’ and I--it’s not an insult, right? They’re always laughing when they say it.”

He shakes his head as his laughter eventually ceases, “No, little one, it is quite the opposite of an insult, but rather a term of endearment. I do not think it is my place to tell you what it means and I am not sure if Paz has the guts to actually tell you, but I can say that I am certain you will find out for yourself one day when he calls you that himself.”

Your leg bounces anxiously as you watch him situate his mythosaur pendant between his collarbones and as you think of all the meanings that the word possibly possesses, one stands out to you the most.

“Is it something I would be allowed to say to him as well in the future?”

“Yes,” He reaches down to pet your vulptex that’s awkwardly making her way towards his boots, sounding utterly entertained by your inquiry, “Though I cannot promise you that his brain wouldn’t combust if he heard you call him that.”

“Then perhaps I would call him that as payback for all the times he’s teased me about certain things.”

Ezir guffaws at that, remaining diligent in petting the lazy vulptex that’s headbutting his calf in a needy manner, “I like you, little one. I almost didn’t believe Ima when she told me you had stopped the fight between Din and Paz, let alone when she informed me that you had stood up for yourself and the bounty hunter.”

You watch as the older man awkwardly scoops the little vulptex into his arms and you’re grateful that not many seem to mind her presence in the covert, as you’re not sure what you would have done had you been forced to get rid of her.

“I have been belittled by men all my life,” You shyly admit, staring at the little creature that’s reaching up in an attempt to bite his pendant, though Ezir doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest as you continue, “And for the longest time, I just learned to keep my mouth shut and deal with it because that’s just the way I was raised, I suppose. These last couple of days have taught me that it does not make me a bad person for only wanting to be treated with respect and my only regret is that I did not realize this sooner in life. Perhaps I’d be a stronger woman if I had realized my worth at a younger age.”

No longer is Ezir petting the vulptex, but instead, he now has his visor trained on you and in return, you offer him a small smile. He remains deathly silent for at least a minute before giving you a curt nod, as though he approves of either you or just your declaration in general.

“In our language, we have a word that I think perfectly describes you, little one,” His gruff, filtered voice drops to something softer as he watches you perk up with curiosity, “Ramikadyc--it means that you have the tenacity and determination of a Mandalorian, that you have our mindset.”

Your heart instantly swells with gratitude and you shyly cross your ankles together as you wring your fingers together on top of your lap, “I would hardly compare myself to your people. I do not think I would have the tenacity or determination to fight against one of those mythosaurs that your ancestors slayed.”

“Something tells me you and I are not too different,” Ezir informs you with what you think is mirth laced within his deep voice, “I do not think you would hesitate to put yourself in harm’s way if it meant protecting someone you care for or someone you do not wish to see to get hurt.”

You smile softly and give him a slight nod as you think of the bounty hunter that you had stood up for, despite him not deserving it, or even your little vulptex that you had taken a blaster shot for. If Ezir truly thinks that you have the heart of a warrior, then he must be saying it for a good reason and his words, along with Ima’s and Paz’s confidence in you, fills you with a little more hope in regards to your future with the tribe.

“Will you tell me more about you?”

“I am afraid my stories might bore you to the point of insanity,” Ezir chuckles, shifting in his seat a little so he can hold your vulptex in a more comfortable position, “But since you seem so curious, what is it you wish to know, little one?”

“Can you tell me more about Mandalore and the civil--?”

Before you can finish, a deep baritone from the entrance of your office interrupts your inquiry and both you and Ezir immediately turn around to find your blue Mandalorian standing tall behind another unarmored Mando, though this one is still taller than you and Ezir. The smaller Mando is holding their wrist protectively against their chest and it takes a few seconds for you to recognize the warrior as one of the younger ones that seems to have a knack for constantly getting hurt during training.

“Saviin’ika,” Paz greets politely with a slight nod, cocking his helmet to the side upon noticing who’s been keeping you company in the short amount of time you two have been apart, “Ezir.”

You raise your brows at the way your warrior tenses up a little upon seeing the elderly man, though you manage to get in a word before any of the Mandalorians can say anything, your attention focused on the injured boy.

“Is your wrist hurt?”

The unarmored Mando peers up at Paz with what you think must be a wary expression through his visor--something that your warrior immediately picks up on. With absolutely no hesitation, the heavy-infantry warrior murmurs something to the younger Mando in his native tongue and you raise your head with anticipation and a kind smile. As though that’s all the confirmation of the young teenager--Vhan--needs, he nods a little and you slide off the end of the cot so your first patient of the day can sit down.

You give the boy a small, encouraging smile as he takes his glove off and pushes up his sleeve to reveal a swollen wrist, “What happened?”

“It was my fault,” Paz says immediately, making you raise your brows in surprise at the thought of him somehow hurting someone so young, “He was sparring with his brother and I looked away for a minute. He fell and landed right on his wrist.”

You frown a little at the guilt in his voice, though judging by the exasperated sigh that wafts past Vhan’s modulator, you think this must be a common occurrence amongst the younger ones who get hurt on Paz’s watch.

“Well, it’s hard to tell for sure without x-rays,” You manage to rotate Vhan’s wrist in the slightest, a gesture that seems to cause minimal pain to the boy, “But it looks like it’s just a minor sprain, since there seems to be no crooked bones and you can still move it around a little. Nothing too serious and nothing to feel bad about.”

Paz lets out a relieved huff at the news, though you know your blue warrior enough to know he’s not going to let the guilt down so easily, especially not when it pertains to one of the younger members of the tribe. A knowing grin stretches your lips when Vhan groans, and now you’re certain this isn’t the first time Paz has been worried like a mother hen over the clumsy teen. Though the blue warrior has quite the reputation among all the adults in the covert, it seems he also has a completely different persona when he’s with the younger ones.

“See? I told you it’s fine. Can I go back to training now?” Vhan insists, moving to hop off of the cot, though you are quicker to stop him by placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Uh uh,” You shake your head, earning another groan from the teen and what you’re sure are surprised expressions from the two other men occupying the room, “Just because it’s a sprain doesn’t mean you can go running off just to damage it even further. You should at least rest it for forty-eight hours and put some ice on it every thirty minutes for two hours until the pain goes away. Also try to keep it elevated as much as possible.”

“That’s so much work for a little sprain though!” Vhan argues and you let out a soft sigh as you begin to compress his wrist with a thick bandage, “Can’t I just--”

“Hey!” Ezir suddenly sounds annoyed, and you’re surprised when the boy tenses up a little, just as Paz had earlier, and something about their reactions has you growing even more curious to what kind of reputation the elder has among his family, “Listen to the nurse, di’kut. She only wants what’s best for you.”

“Yes sir,” Vhan mumbles, though you can tell he’s still not happy about it when he turns his visor to you, “S-Sorry, Saviin’ika.”

You blink your surprise at him calling you the familiar nickname, but eventually you give him a kind smile and stand up to retrieve your roll of ice wraps, “Hey, it’s okay. I’m sure it must be difficult for you to miss out on training, but it really is for your own good. I don’t have the resources here to fix your wrist if it was seriously broken, so it’s detrimental to make sure that the sprain heals properly before doing any serious training again. Perhaps there is… um, maybe something else you can do in the meantime that’s not too strenuous?”

He perks up a little and hope instantly flares in your chest as he gives you an eager nod before turning to look at Paz, “You told me the other day that you would show me how to take apart an assault rifle and put it back together--would that be okay?”

Paz glances at you and the boy’s eager tone makes it hard for you to say no, so you give your warrior a reluctant nod as you finish tying the ice wrap around his swollen wrist, “Just as long as you make sure to not move your wrist around too much and keep the ice wrap on, okay?”

“Alright!” He’s instantly hopping off the cot and you chuckle at his newfound excitement, “Thanks vod’ika!”

You huff a little, opening your mouth to stubbornly remind him that you’re far older than him, though he cuts you off with a quick headbutt to your forehead; while it’s not too harsh of a harsh gesture, it’s certainly not as gentle as all the times Paz has performed the same action. You rub your tender forehead as Paz turns to the side a little so Vhan can make his way, presumably, to the armory. Paz shakes his helmet in an exasperated manner as he steps toward you, most likely to get a look at your forehead, but Ezir’s small grunts as he slowly stands up has your full attention.

Instinctively, you move to help the elder up from your office chair, noticing his slight struggle to stand and you force yourself not to cringe at the numerous pops and cracks coming from his knees and back. After a lifetime of fighting and being a medic, you’re certain it’s taken a toll on him, though he simply chuckles a little and pats your back as you both make your way over to Paz.

“I suppose I should take this as my sign to leave you to your duties for the day, verd’ika,” You beam at the new nickname as he carefully grabs onto your elbow for better balance while you lead him to the entrance where Paz is still standing with a cocked helmet, “I’ll have to look for my old medical books and datapads for you to read.”

“Oh, thank you!” Happiness and warmth instantly blankets your heart at his consideration, gratitude filling your soul when you realize that he seems to approve of you being the tribe’s new nurse, “I would love that very much, if it’s not too much of a hassle.”

“Of course not,” He gives your hand a little pat before latching onto a grumpy Paz’s elbow instead, “I’ll just make this one help me later since he can reach the higher shelves.”

“I have other things to--”

Jutting a thumb out in your direction over his shoulder, Ezir sends a rough little whack! of his walking stick to Paz’s armored shin, “It is good she is here with the tribe now--perhaps she can teach you and everyone else some manners, you big brute.”

“Yeah, ori kebiin,” You giggle in a teasing manner, earning a small grunt from the blue warrior, “Would it really kill you to learn a few manners?”

Ezir lets out a loud laugh that has Paz shaking his helmet at you, and though you know you’ll soon regret it, you think it’s worth the delightful torment he’ll inflict on you later when the two of you are alone. Without another word, Paz reaches out to give your nape a tender squeeze before leaving you alone to your thoughts in your little office, though you think that seeing Ezir and helping Vhan has already given you a bright start to your day.

With a faint smile stretched along your lips, you add a few comments to your little notepad and take inventory of the supplies you have and what you need for the next time Paz goes on a supply run. For the most part, the day goes by slowly and uneventfully--something you are actually grateful for, what with being so used to the chaos that came as a result of working in a village full of crime and those with cruel hearts.

Needless to say, you don’t mind a calm day in the slightest and when Ima passes your office hours later to politely inform you that training and sparring lessons are done for the day, you’re grateful that no serious injuries were sustained. Packing up your things and making sure your office is in order, you turn off the lights and exit your office, eager to explore the covert a little more and go to the room that Paz and Ima had decorated for you.

After conversing with a few of the Mandalorians you had befriended in the short amount of time you’ve been at the covert, you happily make your way down the stairs that you know leads to everyone’s private quarters, as well as the nursery and your little flower alcove.

You hum a mindless tune to yourself as you stroll down the long tunnel, smiling when the atmosphere gets a little warmer when you pass the shielded alcove that leads into the nursery; your walking slows a little and you’re half tempted to go inside and say hi to the little ones, though you don’t want to cause any chaos again, especially so late in the day. Reluctantly, you continue past the nursery and make your way to the little room Paz and Ima had decorated with your flowers, your vulptex resting comfortably in your arms as you two seek out relaxation.

“I need to think of a name for you, little one,” You murmur, earning a soft gaze from her, crimson eyes slowly blinking up at you, “Maybe I should ask one of the younglings to come up with one. They must be far more creative than me.”

She simply answers you with a dramatic huff as you continue down the path that Paz had already taken you down a few times.

You’re completely oblivious to the little footsteps following you far behind.

Finally, you make it to your beloved sanctuary and let out a relieved sigh upon seeing all your growing flowers and the lights that hang above them. Placing your little vulptex on the center of the desk where you had placed a little pillow for her, you dutifully water the plants and flowers that look like they need it the most. It’s comforting to have a little place of your own, especially after dealing with so many of the boisterous warriors all day and while you feel as though you’re slowly getting used to their antics, you realize you truly had no idea what you were getting yourself into upon agreeing to be the tribe’s nurse.

A small smile quirks at the corners of your lips as you feel the tiniest ache in your temple where the younger Mandalorian had headbutted his gratitude a little too roughly earlier, though warmth fills your heart when you remember how he had referred to you as his sister.

You’re in the middle of checking on your little violets when your vulptex raises her head in a jolting manner; immediately, you turn around, expecting Paz or perhaps Ima needing you to tend to someone’s wound.

It is neither one of them, you realize with surprise.

You let out a little gasp upon seeing a pair of wide, fearful eyes poking from the tiny crack between the curtains and the doorway and you instantly recognize the sad, golden brown orbs from days ago in the nursery.

“Oh, it’s okay, little one!” You give him a warm smile that instantly seems to allay some of the despair in his big eyes, “You may come in, if you’d like.”

Hesitantly, he makes his way into the unfamiliar room, looking like a lost animal that’s experiencing a new environment for the first time and you think you know the feeling all too well; even after spending a few days at the covert, you still feel quite lost and you can’t possibly imagine what this child is going through.

You blink your surprise when he gets halfway across the room before spotting your lazy vulptex who is still curled up on your desk, staring at the boy curiously, though not unkindly in the slightest. Carefully, you make your way closer to the little who simply stares up at you with wide starry eyes, his hands clasped together politely in front of him and your heart melts at how nervous and scared he seems.

“It’s okay, little one,” You reassure him in a calm, hushed tone, reaching your hand out for him to take, “She loves younglings very much and would never hurt you, I promise.”

The curly-haired boy shifts his gaze between you and your rocky companion before ultimate latching onto your hand with his. Cautiously and without any force, you guide him closer to your desk where the vulptex is still observing the little boy with gentle eyes; you think that on top of being intelligent, her species must also be quite empathetic and can differentiate a kind soul from a dark one.

“Is it okay if I pick you up?” You question the boy softly, earning you a shy nod as an answer, and you carefully haul him up to the chair in front of your desk, keeping a hand pressed to the back of his shoulders to keep him steady, should he stumble, “If you want to hold your hand out to sniff it, it’ll be a sign that you want to be her friend.”

His eyes widen a little more and you can’t help but to grin as he holds a shaking hand out for the rocky vulpine to sniff eagerly, his other hand pressed shyly to his cheek in anticipation. A tiny, childish giggle meets your ears and warms your heart as the vulptex licks his palm, though he is quick to pull his damp hand back and wipe it on his beige tunic with a scrunched up expression. When he smiles up at you, you’re certain your heart is going to melt into a big puddle of goo in the pit of your stomach and you offer him one in return, smoothing his dark, unruly curls away from his forehead.

“See? She knows you’re brave and likes you now.”

He gives you a toothy grin and you feel a lovely warmth in your soul knowing that you were able to provide some emotional reprieve for the sweet child.

“Did you sneak away from the nursery, little one?” You ask him gently, not wanting him to think you’re upset with him at all; he simply drops his head in shame and you continue to stroke his curls in an attempt to comfort him, “It’s okay! You’re not in trouble, I promise. I just want to know why.”

For a moment, you don’t think he’s going to answer as he keeps his head lowered, but then he eventually peers up at you and whispers his response in a tiny, meek voice.

“Y-You were singing,” He explains quietly, and you realize he must have heard you humming and followed you all the way here, “‘M sorry.”

“Hey, no, none of that,” You crouch down in front of him so he’s taller than you while he stands on your chair and you give him a kind smile, “It’s okay, but how about next time you just ask the caretaker on duty, alright? They’ll come find me, wherever I may be.”

He gives you a shy nod, seeming thoughtful for a few moments as he presses a chubby index finger to his pouting lips, “Do I have to go back?”

You should say yes and you know it, but his eyes are all but pleading with you to say no and he looks so hopeful that you’ll let him keep you company. You think he must feel just as out of place as you do, not knowing who to talk to or who to trust, though you seem to be the one person he finds solace in.

How could you destroy that tiny amount of trust he already has in you?

You give him a tiny smile and shake your head, “You may stay for a little while, but I fear I do not make for the most exciting company, little one.”

The boy doesn’t say anything to that and you blink your surprise when he reaches out to clumsily touch the thick braid wrapped around your crown, along with the few flowers that you had strategically placed throughout the weaves that morning when Paz had been watching you. He seems curious by the vibrant flora, his eyes blinking and flickering with awe and you bow your head a little so he can get a better look at them.

“Do you like flowers?” You ask him quietly when he eventually ceases his exploration, and you look up to see him giving you a shy little nod, “What’s your favorite kind?”

You expect him to not know many, especially if he’s spent his few years of life on Nevarro, though he surprises you when he speaks in a barely there whisper, “I like roses--like the ones my ‘gramma used to paint.”

You’re desperately inclined to ask more about his grandmother--if he had any parents and what planet he had been saved from, but if he’s the covert’s newest foundling, the wounds on his heart and mind must still be so fresh and you do not wish to infect it further with your invasive questions. Instead, you force yourself to give him a warm, big smile and somehow manage to keep the tears out of your eyes when his chubby fingers find the little blue flower that Paz had tucked behind your ear earlier in the morning.

“Yeah? I bet they were beautiful,” You grin and he gives you a fervent little nod to confirm your thoughts, “What color roses did she paint?”

And what you thought was only going to be a ten or twenty minute interaction with the boy ends up to be more than an hour and a half long meeting where the two of you talk about harmless topics like flowers, favorite animals, different types of stars and constellations. Though for once, you do most of the talking and you are more than satisfied to describe the beautiful hot springs and caves that Paz had taken you to, sparing all the mushy details that you knew would probably gross out a child.

“He’s scary,” The boy murmurs as you tell him of the story, at least the clean version, of how Paz had stood up for you the night you first found your vulptex, “They all are--they don’t smile.”

“Well of course they do,” You inform the little one, curling a finger against his cheek and earning a tiny giggle, “Everyone smiles, you just can’t see it because they wear their helmets to honor their creed. It does not mean they are robots or incapable of feeling the same emotions we do.”

He’s perched on one of your thighs, seeming comfortable as he softly pets the sleeping vulptex and you smile down at him sympathetically upon realizing he’s still apprehensive of the armored warriors, “I was scared of Paz at first too, but he turned out to be one of the kindest, most honorable men I have ever met. These people are not cruel, but I understand why you are afraid, little one. I have only been here for three days and I am still learning how to fit in as well. Perhaps we can figure this out together.”

He gives you another toothy grin and nods, seeming comforted by your words as he leans back into you and your heart aches at the trust he shows in you; a part of you wonders if it’s because he can actually see your face. You’re not entirely sure of what to say as he continues to pet the sleepy animal, smiling whenever he hears the soft squeaks that the vulptex lets out every now and then.

“Do you have a name little one?” You ask kindly--tenderly--hoping that the question won’t overwhelm him as he tilts his head to stare up at you.

You truly don’t think he’s going to answer you, but then after a few moments of silence, he lowers his head a little, not looking you in the eyes.

“Odisian.”

“Odisian... what a lovely name,” You repeat it with a grin, earning a shy smile from him, “Is it okay if I call you Odi? Or do you prefer your full name?”

Suddenly, he beams up at you and kicks his legs a little, as if having a nickname makes him feel more at home, “I like Odi!”

Your cheeks nearly hurt from how big you’re smiling at him and you nod, deciding it’s best not to dwell too much on his own name or what nicknames he might have had before being brought to the covert. You straighten your spine a little and reach out to pet your little vulptex who keens under all the adoration and attention she’s suddenly receiving from you and the little one.

“Would you like to pick out a name for her?” You ask him softly, tilting your head to the side when he gives you an expression filled with awe and wonder, like he can’t believe you are asking him to do such a thing, “She needs one and I do not think I am creative enough to bestow her with such an honor.”

Odi swings his legs nervously and you can’t help but to grin as he seems to seriously contemplate this huge decision, his tiny hand squeezing his cheeks together in great concentration. You remain patient with him as he turns his head a little to stare at all the flowers on your desk and the colorful vines that are draping off the edge of the shelves attached to the wall with admiration.

“Rosie?”

He says it more as a question, like he’s nervous for your response, so you offer him a warm grin when you realize this sweet child wants to name your vulptex after his own favorite flower. You wonder if he somehow knows just how much your flowers mean to you, just as Paz does, or if the flower simply has some sort of deeper meaning to him and you playfully ruffle his curls, earning you a little giggle from him.

“That is far more lovely of a name than I could ever come up for her,” You inform him, your cheeks hurting from how big of a smile you’re wearing on your face and he perks up at your reassurance, no longer seeming quite as nervous, “Her eyes are red like roses too! Is red your favorite color?”

“I like yellow,” He bashfully admits, and you nearly chuckle at the way he pronounces his ‘L’s as ‘W’s, “It is a happy color.”

You agree with him as you begin to collect some flowers for the little boy, though a part of you lamely thinks he probably doesn’t even want them. You’re in the process of pointing out all the different flowers that Paz and Ima had been so kind to plant for you in anticipation of your arrival when the drapes to your alcove shuffle to the side a little.

You’re completely unaware of how long your blue warrior is standing in the entryway, simply observing you and the little one perched contently on top of your leg who seems utterly interested in what you have to tell him about the healing properties of violets and lavender.

“Oh! And then this one right here, if you just grind it up and add it into--”

“Cyare.”

Immediately, you and Odi both turn to face where Paz is standing just feet away in front of the rounded entrance, though the little one in your arms is quick to lower his head in fear of the massive warrior. Wanting the youngling to feel more comfortable, you simply smile up at Paz, who suddenly seems frozen to his spot as he stares at you with a cocked helmet, his shoulders tense as his pauldrons inch closer to the bottom of his helmet.

“Is something wrong, Paz?”

“No, it’s just--” His helmet slightly jolts to the side and he’s acting odd as you gently heave Odi off of your lap, offering him the little bundle of flowers so he won’t feel so lonely without you by his side, “It is time for the younglings to sleep and the caretaker on duty got scared because he was missing. I thought you might know where he is and it seems as though I was right.”

Odi is staring up at you with the saddest expression, as though he’s pleading with you to not return him back to the nursery and you gently cup the back of his curls, giving him a kind smile in return. Nervously, he fiddles with his hands as you stand up, easily scooping your vulptex into the crook of your elbow, all while the little one stares up at Paz with the most frightened expression you’ve ever witnessed, hiding behind your leg.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. I’m not going anywhere and you’re more than welcome to visit me anytime,” You offer him a reassuring smile as he gazes down at the little bouquet of flowers and  he is quick to grab your outstretched hand with an eager expression, “C’mon, I’ll walk you back. Besides, he likes flowers too--I bet he would like it if you gave him one.”

You say the last sentence in a low whisper, as though you’re sharing some sort of gossip with him and you instantly notice the way he perks up as Paz holds the drapes to the side for you, his helmet still tilted to the side as he observes you two. Odi is still quiet and thoughtful as he stares down at the little bundle of colorful flowers you had gifted him, all while holding your hand as Paz slowly leads you through the dim tunnels.

Shyly, the child gazes up at Paz and warmth blooms in your heart and soul when he lowers his helmet to regard Odi with what you’re certain is the utmost kindness, most likely wanting nothing more than to earn the boy’s trust. Without saying anything, the little one holds up the colorful bouquet of flowers for Paz to see and you grin at the adorable interaction.

"Those are... pretty,” Paz comments in a softer voice and you can tell he’s trying to appear as placid as possible to the nervous boy, “Which one is your favorite?”

Odi lets go of your hand to press his index finger to his bottom lip in severe contemplation and you nearly chuckle at what must be a cute little habit that he does unknowingly when he’s thinking too hard. After a moment’s consideration, he points a chubby finger at one of the many violets that you had tucked in the center and you instantly grin.

“Those are my favorite too,” Paz says quietly, and you’re too focused on the way Odi is smiling down at the little bouquet to notice the Mandalorian’s visor trained on your face.

Odi seems conflicted as he gently tugs one of the violets from the middle of the colorful bundle and offers it to the huge warrior with a hopeful gaze, not saying a word throughout the entire exchange.

“What an honor,” Paz sounds like he's grinning as he accepts the little flower and Odi immediately seeks out your hand again, “Thank you.”

The youngling peers up at you with a cheerful glimmer in his eye, as though he’s proud of himself for showing such bravery and selflessness in the presence of a powerful warrior. Once you offer him a knowing smile and a gentle squeeze of his hand, Odi turns to gaze down at his colorful bouquet with a tiny grin on his face. 

Content upon realizing the little one no longer seems sad or fearful, you tilt your head up to beam happily at Paz, your heart still full of love and admiration towards both him and Odi; immediately the warrior lifts his hand to tenderly stroke your cheek. The cold bite of leather nearly makes you flinch and suddenly you’re remorseful that both of your hands are occupied by your littlest companions as you now long to touch the lighter blue in the hollows of his cheeks.

It’s not until you make it back to the nursery that Odi’s smile drops and his lips form into a little pout. Paz presses his gloved hand to the small of your back to guide you further into the nursery and through a short tunnel leading the four of you to where the younglings must sleep and take their naps.

“Hey,” You whisper after the four of you enter a dimly lit room with several beds lined up; you notice the tiny lumps curled up underneath the fuzzy blankets and smile as you crouch down in front of Odi, “Remember what I said, okay? You ever want to come see me, just ask one of the caretakers. I’ll always be here for you.”

He nods, and before you can even think about standing up, he steps forward to wrap his tiny arms around your neck and you’re quick to return the sweet gesture, your free hand coming up to gently cup the back of his head. You feel his chubby fingers curl into the hair you had left unbraided that morning and smile when he holds onto you a little tighter; you can tell he’s still afraid of you leaving as an idea pops into your head.

“Since Rosie seems to like you so much, why don’t I leave her here with you for the night?” Immediately, he pulls away from you, his starry eyes wide and filled with disbelief as you gently shuffle the lazy vulpine into his awaiting arms, “She may be small, but she’s a fierce little thing that will protect you from any nightmares you may have, I promise.”

He holds the animal closer to his chest, grinning when she lifts her head to lick at his cheek and Odi instantly giggles in response. He gives you one last shy smile before making his way to his little bed and you stand up to your full height as you watch him shuffle underneath his blankets, all while holding Rosie close to his chest. It’s not until you watch his eyes close that you let out a deep exhale and you wonder when you had stopped breathing; tears nearly escape your eyes when you watch Rosie curl herself closer to the child, head tucked underneath his chin as he smiles sleepily.

“Ner cyare,” Paz whispers and you jump a little, nearly forgetting that he had been standing there this whole time; you turn to face him and you give him a questioning look when he threads his fingers through the valleys between yours, “There is something I want to show you.”

You think when he says ‘something’, he most likely means ‘someone’, and your heart thrums wildly in anticipation as he leads you away from the younglings’ sleeping quarters. The alcove he’s leading you to is the one he had popped out of a few days ago after you confronted him after the fight, you realize, and you wonder what could possibly be in the room that he seems so excited to show you.

You blink owlishly at him as he politely holds the drapes to the side for you and you hesitantly enter the warm room; instantly, another Mandalorian with black and yellow armor turns to face you and Paz. Before you can offer the stranger an affable greeting, a soft whimper cuts you off and your heart instantly freezes over when you spot a wooden crib in the corner of the dim room.

An infant… 

There is an infant in the covert and the thought simultaneously terrifies you and breaks your heart.

Paz quietly says something in his mother tongue when the caretaker on duty tenses as you step forward to try to get a better look at the distressed infant, your heart now pounding so wildly that you hear it in your ears. Whatever Paz said to the caretaker immediately seems to calm them down and they simply watch as you observe the fussy baby that is kicking its little feet wildly and growing even more distressed. The infant is wearing tiny white socks and a long, dark brown tunic that falls to her ankles; her little head is adorned with a white beanie, but you see dark tufts of hair poking out from underneath.

“I… I cannot get her to stop crying,” The Mandalorian’s deep, filtered voice is coated with exhaustion and despite the tears burning your eyes, you fixate your attention on the defeated Mando, the vibrancy of the yellow stripes painted on his black armor nearly hurting your eyes, “What am I doing wrong?”

You wonder if he’s ever had to take care of an infant before, but judging by the way the black and yellow Mando shuffles around nervously makes you think it is not all too common of an occurrence in the tribe.

You swallow the lump in your throat and nod, shaking off your fears and insecurities as you remind yourself that you were brought here to take care of others, “O-Okay, how old is she?”

“I only found her a few weeks ago, cyare,” Paz informs you quietly, not wanting to disturb the baby even more, and you turn around to gaze up at him with wide, watery eyes; he must see the confusion etched on your features because he immediately explains himself, “I was walking back from seeing you one night and found her abandoned behind one of the vendors in the marketplace. I can’t… I can’t imagine what kind of monster does such a thing.”

You know all too well of the monsters that are capable of leaving a helpless creature behind to die, most likely feeling no guilt when they close their eyes at night.

You nod again and let out a shaky exhale as the caretaker turns his body to the side and allows you to lean over the crib, your chest aching something fierce as you carefully scoop up the tiny creature into your arms. Instantly, she lets out with a piercing, shrill scream and you heave a small sigh at how fussy of a little thing she is, though you think you already know what her problem is.

“What are you--?”

The strange Mandalorian jolts forward a little as you shuffle the crying baby around in your arms until her chest and stomach is resting against the inside of your forearm, her arms and chubby legs dangling lazily around in the air and her cheek tucked against the crook of your elbow. It takes a few moments of tenderly stroking her back to get her cries to soften into something less ear shattering, and you let out a relieved sigh when her whimpers turn into little coos and grunts.

“I think she might be colic,” You inform the caretaker with a shaky whisper, his helmet tilted to the side with what you think is either curiosity or shock as she dribbles, “I’ve uh, I’ve seen this before and read about it. Are you making sure to burp her after each feeding? Or perhaps she should be using a different formula if she has a sensitive tummy?”

“I--” He drops his helmet a little, staring at the cooing infant that you’re bouncing a little, “She wasn’t spitting anything up and I just thought… I wasn’t sure how to do it, how to burp her.”

You give the black and yellow Mando a sympathetic expression and nod, your eyes still burning with tears, “Babies can be pretty fussy sometimes, but once you find out how they like to be held and handled, it makes things a little bit easier. This tends to be a good trick at calming a lot of babies, but you need to make sure she gets burped after every feeding or else she’ll be really uncomfortable and even fussier than normal.”

“Thank you,” The caretaker nods his gratitude as you continue to stroke her back and you give him a weak smile in response, “Could you maybe get her to go to sleep? I should check on the others and I--”

‘Need a breather.’

He doesn’t say it out loud, but you hear it in the way his deep voice drops and his shoulders fall at the mere thought of having a few moments of peace and relaxation.

He fidgets when you hesitate, though Paz places a gentle hand on your nape and he must realize that something is wrong as he squeezes the warm skin there; it’s something he only does when he’s trying to comfort you. Afraid that your voice will fail you, you offer the caretaker a jittery nod and he wastes no time in leaving the nursery that’s dedicated to this tiny infant. 

You find it difficult to even look at Paz as you make your way over to the rocking chair that seems far too small for any Mandalorian and slowly sink down until you’re sitting comfortably with a cooing, sleepy baby tucked in your arms. A soft sigh escapes your lungs when you feel a little bit of drool soak through the material covering your elbow and you risk a glance at Paz when he gets down on a knee next to the rocking chair, his gloved hand moving to gently squeeze your bicep.

“What happened?” He questions as quietly as possible, warranting a tiny grunt from the irascible infant, “Why are you so sad all of a sudden?”

The way he asks such a question so softly instantly leaves you feeling painfully raw and vulnerable and you are quick to shoulder away a tear before he can wipe it away for you; you shake your head viciously, “It’s nothing.”

“Cyare--”

“I will explain later.”

The Mandalorian gives you a curt nod and retrieves a piece of cloth for you as you move the calmed baby to burp her against your shoulder. You can tell he wants to say something as you pat her between the shoulders, but he remains silent and tilts his helmet to the side upon hearing the infant gurgle and do her business against the cloth draped over your shoulder. It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep once she’s burped up all the air and spit from her meal and you let out a grateful sigh when you watch her eyelids slowly droop, somewhat eager to get her out of your arms and into her crib.

Once she’s comfortable in her cradle and fast asleep, you are quick to exit the little alcove, Paz hot on your heels as you practically storm past the exhausted-looking caretaker who’s sitting on a stone ledge in the main play area.

“Hey thank you for--”

You’re out of the nursery before he can fully express his gratitude to you and you hear Paz mutter something to the caretaker before rushing after you. Halfway down the tunnel leading to his private quarters, Paz catches up to you and carefully wraps his leather-clad fingers around your bicep, turning you around to face him.

“Cyare! What’s going--?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?!” You don’t even realize you’re sobbing until you hear your own voice and Paz’s other hand comes to squeeze your shoulder in a comforting manner, “Wh-Why didn’t you tell me there was a baby and why would you make me…? I didn’t know and... Maker, she was so much like--”

Your chest is heaving, tears streaming from your cheeks like raging waterfalls and Paz gently pulls you to the side and covers you when another Mandalorian passes you two, giving you what you’re certain is a curious gaze. He cups a massive hand to the side of your neck and leans down as you continue to sob and babble incoherent pleas at him, wondering why he’d put you through this, though he truly had no idea what he had done to you.

“I-I am sorry, cyare,” He breathes, squeezing your bicep firmly with his other hand, “You seemed to love the little ones so much and I thought… I thought you would love to see the baby, but I didn’t think…” He shakes his helmet in a jolting manner as you viciously rub at your eyes and cheeks, “What happened? What did I do wrong?”

“I’m sorry,” You ignore his frantic questions as you try desperately to stop the tears escaping your eyes, along with the horrific memories from flooding your mind, “I didn’t mean to be so rude! I thought I was over it and I could forget, but seeing her...”

“Shh, hey, it’s okay,” He hushes you in a kind manner, shielding you from any wandering eyes that might see your tears, “Why don’t… why don’t we go back to our room and you can tell me what’s going on? That’s what you said the other day, right? That we should talk about the things we feel?”

You nod your answer, not trusting your voice in that moment, and you try your hardest to force down the massive lump in your throat.

“Will you tell me why you are so broken up over seeing the baby?”

He’s quick to pull you in close, hunching over to hold you easier and you immediately stuff your face into the crook of his neck as you give him another jittery nod, “I fear you will hate me upon hearing what I’ve done in the past--how I have failed the ones I was supposed to take care of.”

“I… I could never feel such a thing towards you,” He promises with a deep exhale, sounding just as heartbroken as he reluctantly pulls away and leads you closer to his private quarters, keeping a firm hand on the small of your back, “Whatever it is, I could never hate you, I swear.”

Your chest aches more and more the closer you get to his private quarters and once you finally make it, he’s quick to sit you down on the foot of his bed, kneeling down as he collects your hands in his leather-clad ones.

“What is haunting you, ner cyare? What makes you cry so much when you sleep?”

You pray that once you tell him, the horrific memories won’t weigh heavy on your conscience any longer.

Translations:

Ner cyare=My beloved

Mesh’la=Beautiful

Ori Kebiin=Big blue

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum=I love you (lit. I know you forever)

Saviin’ika=Little violet

Verd’ika= Little soldier

Di’kut=Idiot, useless individual, waste of space (lit. someone who forgets to put their pants on)

Taglist: @parabatai-winchester @auty-ren @theocatkov @oloreaa @talesfromtheguild @blindedbyyourgrace17 @datmando @dartheldur @miscellaneous-mando @karpasia @ben-is-a-hoe @the-feckless-wonder @whatababeleia @maybege @aerynwrites @corrupt-fvcker @lackofhonor @phoenixhalliwell @crazy-kat-in-the-hat @roxypeanut @mandolovian @honestlystop @teaofpeach @macabrefaerie @acynicalcat @spaghetti-666 @readsalot73 @lanatheawesome @absurdthirst​ @anakinsittinginsand​ @yes-music-is-my-religion​ @tangledlove27​ @justrunamok​ @peqchynero​ @haloangel391​ @awhiskeywithawinchester @aliciaxglasgow​ @bonesaldente​ @kawaiitimecharm​ @karaabove​ @clydesducktape​ @misssilvertongue​ @heartxheat​ @pazvizslasgirl4ever​ (Please let me know if I missed you or you’d like to be taken off!!)

Author’s note: As always, thank you all so much for being as patient and kind as ever <3 I don’t know why this chapter was such a struggle for me to finish, but I’m so glad eventually managed to get all the words I wanted down lol. I was worried it might seem like there’s a lot going on in this chapter, but I just wanted more interactions with our nurse getting more settled in with the tribe and meeting others, so hopefully this chapter doesn’t seem like it’s all over the place :( Anyways I love you all and thank you so much for all the support y’all continuously give me <33

[3laxx]

Late Night Visits

Set after the events of "Young Blood, Old Souls"

After the Owl House went into hiding for a week, Luz can't bear not seeing her friends anymore. Disregarding any risk of getting arrested, she decides to visit Amity to tell her what happened.

It's basically just tooth-rotting Lumity fluff xD

Ao3 / FF.net

---

Amity rolled her eyes at the loud voice of her mother echoing through the wide halls. The twins had gotten into trouble again, and mother had had enough.

The third time this week. It seemed the closer the twins got to their 17th birthday the less they cared what their parents had to say.

She turned another page in the book she was not reading, sighing. She couldn’t concentrate anyway.

Ever since Luz went into hiding, she hadn’t lasted an hour without catching her thoughts sneaking away to the human.

The book was tossed aside when Amity ran a hand through her hair. It was down. The strands fell into her face and she leaned back on her bed, against the headboard.

Something terrible had happened the day when Luz had saved Eda. Nobody knew what had happened, only what Willow and Gus had done on live TV, and then Lilith had been thrown into the cage with the Owl beast Eda. And suddenly Luz had appeared. Amity had held her breath in fear when Luz had stopped the Petrification process, wearing a cape and frankly, looking amazing. But then the guards had attacked and Titan, Amity had wished she could jump out of the bed and fly there and help.

She sat up again and slumped forward this time, rubbing her ankle. It was still in a cast, healing quickly, but not quick enough for Amity’s taste. She still couldn’t put weight on it. Nothing went quickly enough after Luz had vanished. And with her the Owl House, Willow had texted her.

As soon as Willow had come back from the Petrification ceremony, she had hoped to catch Luz and had made her way to where the Owl House had stood before, only to find an empty hole.

She had hoped Luz would show any sign that she was okay, that she was gonna come back. Though, maybe Eda had sent her away to the human realm again.

Amity’s heart ached at that possibility. She wouldn’t go without saying goodbye, right?

The young witchling sat up and grabbed the book she had read, Azura Book 2, to put it back on the shelf about her nightstand where it belonged. Her room was spotless as always.

Sometimes she wished it looked more like the Owl House around here. Messy, dirty, homely.

Her heart stung again. Luz wouldn’t just leave like that, right?

Titan, just stop thinking about her, Amity chastised herself. She had to be logical. Luz was a human, she was fragile (but not weak!) and a criminal. Just a few hours after their escape the emperor had announced Eda, Lilith, and Luz should be treated as public enemies and be arrested at sight.

A lump formed in Amity’s throat. Luz would be better off in the human realm. Maybe Eda, Lilith, and King even went with her.

She shouldn’t still be thinking about Luz. She should be thinking about all the homework she had already completed, and the spells she had already trained and perfected, and about putting on a mask for the guests her parents would be welcome on the weekend. She shouldn’t be thinking and crying after a human.

Her heart ached again, now at the thought, she had just had. She didn’t see Luz as a human, on which most witches of her class looked down upon. Instead, she saw the cutest, most skilled witch in her that she had ever seen. Her magic was unique, unlike any others.

Why didn’t Luz contact Willow at least?

They were close, she should’ve contacted her. But she just had to go and leave them in uncertainty, for an entire week. It had been a week already, Amity realized once again.

Groaning, she leaned against the shelf and rubbed her face. This was hopeless. Trying to get her thoughts away from Luz was impossible.

 ---

“Please, Eda!”, Luz begged for the hundredth time already, following the older witch around through the entire house.

“Luz, for the last time, I will not let you borrow Owlbert and visit the school or your friends. You know exactly that Bonesborough is crawling with guards!”

Huffing and grumbling, Eda pulled her hair around her ears, not drone out the desperate Teenager bugging her.

“I know, but I’ll be super sneaky! I’ll be in and out, whoosh, and they never see me!”

Eda entered the kitchen in the hopes of finding some Apple Blood but thanks to her sister not stealing it, they didn’t have any here. Curse her sister and her healthy lifestyle. Not even Apple Blood was in it for Eda anymore.

“Kid, no. For the last time.”

“Pleeaaase, Eda?”, Luz tried the puppy eyes and Eda graced her with a short glace, her eyebrows cocked, but she wouldn’t give in. She knew exactly that the kid was about as sneaky as a Griffin in an Elixir stand.

She had tried ignoring her before, that had only made it worse. Playing the authority card had lasted for the past few days but it seemed Luz was more desperate than before. And reasoning wasn’t as effective anymore as well. Eda knew that the isolation had hit Luz the hardest of them all, but she knew just as well that she couldn’t give in, not at all.

The life of her apprentice was at stake, and the lives of her friends as well.

“You can’t just fly to Bonesborough and visit some friends like in old times. You’ll endanger them and their families and you’ll risk getting them thrown into the Conformatorium.”

“I’ll be super quiet!”, Luz insisted in them.

Eda’s heart wasn’t in it. She knew the young witchling needed her friends. Damnit. But they were defenseless. Luz was the most powerful member of the Owl House right now, without counting Hooty. Even if Eda would never admit that out loud.

Finally, her mentor sat down on the sofa and buried her face in her hands. Luz came to a stop in front of her, then she flopped on the floor. Ah, to be young again and just, fall all over the place.

Eda risked a glance. Luz immediately pulled her puppy eyes again.

“No.”

The teenager whined and fell backward, sprawling on the floor.

“Edaaa!”, she cried, putting her arm over her eyes and pouted.

After some much-needed silence, the older witch finally leaned back and looked up to the ceiling. She definitely couldn’t let the kid visit that Park kid or the small one. They lived in Bonesborough and guards were patrolling there all the time, it was hard enough to steal some food.

“You can’t go to Bonesborough, kid. I know it’s hard but contrary to before, things got serious.”, Eda hated serious talks, but Luz had to understand that she was not only endangering herself, “I can’t let you run in headfirst and be captured.”

Luz sat up then, still pouting.

“So, if Willow and Gus are out, can I at least visit Amity?”

Eda thought about that. It’s been a week now. Maybe their time to lay low was enough. And honestly, the Blight kid lived a little off the radar. Her parents had a manor up in the woods, maybe they didn’t hire as many guards. And besides, she had noticed the Blight kid and her kid getting along well. Maybe it wasn’t as off-limits as she thought.

“I won’t bother you anymore after this.”, Luz grinned, sensing that Eda was considering the option.

“Alright kid, it’s a deal!”

The teenager squealed and got up to jump around, then she ran back to Eda to hug her, crushing her against the sofa cushions.

“Why, why are you constantly doing the parallel arm thing?!”

 ---

Amity was just hopping her way to her dresser, to get changed into her pajamas when a small knock startled her. A knock? Her family never knocked when they wished to speak with her.

Her mother usually just barged in, as did the twins. And her father never came to her room.

Furrowing her eyebrows, she grabbed her crutch tighter and hopped to her door, slowly opening it. Nobody was there.

Her imagination must’ve fooled her. Shrugging, Amity closed the door again and turned back to get her pajamas, but then it knocked again. Okay, she heard that one. Furrowing her eyebrows, she listened intently, then she heard another knock again. What…?

Looking to her window, she almost had a heart attack. Someone was out there, flying on a staff it seemed, and-… Was that Luz?!

“Luz!”, she exclaimed in a whisper, then she rushed to the window as fast as she could with her foot in the cast and pulled it open, to allow Luz to climb in.

“Hello!”, the human said in her usual dorky way, a wide grin on her face. Amity couldn’t believe it. Why was Luz here?!

The human slightly stumbled on the windowsill and bumped against the window which Amity had held onto not to fall, which caused her to flail and fall forward, yelping slightly just before Luz turned and caught her in time. Looking up, Amity realized the compromising position they were in.

“Ah, just caught you in time! You okay?”, Luz asked cheerfully and she already felt a heated blush creeping up her cheeks so she did the first thing she could think of when Luz straightened her up again. Out of reflex, she punched her friend’s shoulder, earning a small ouch, then she glared at the human.

“Why do you decide to show up now, after a week of nothing?!”

Luz grimaced as she rubbed her shoulder, shrugging helplessly.

“Better late than never!”, she tried, but Amity merely huffed and rubbed her face before leaning against the wall. Her head was spinning. This was happening. Luz was in her room, in her room, and she had just touched her and heard her and-…

“Do you need help getting back to your bed?”, the other girl softly asked and Amity shook her head, grabbing her crutch and making her way over on her own, to sit down on the edge.

The mattress next to her sunk in and she felt Luz’s weight, then she allowed herself to glance over to see Luz kneading her hands in her lap. Titan, why was she so adorable?

“… I’m sorry, Amity… Everything went so fast when we fled. I couldn’t say goodbye to you all, we had to go immediately not to endanger you guys and risk our freedom.”

Amity sighed at that, feeling so much turmoil inside her. On one hand, she was really mad that Luz thought just showing up after a week would just be okay. On the other, she could understand why Eda didn’t let Luz get in contact with them. She didn’t have a scroll and she most certainly would’ve endangered them all.

Amity sighed.

Eda had been right to isolate them from each other.

Luz reached out for her hand and Amity almost let her take it, but instead, she jumped up, almost dropping to the floor again before searching her balance and propped her hands up on her hip, furrowing her eyebrows. She supposed she looked like an idiot, standing on one leg, but holding Luz’s hand was definitely too scary.

“I-I know that! But how can you just be here?! Don’t you know it’s dangerous?”

Luz got up as well as if to soften down Amity. Titan, it worked.

“I know! But I just had to see at least one of you guys and you were the safest option.”

Amity just wanted to melt on the spot. Luz had acknowledged the danger, and she had still come here. To her house, to speak to her. Sure, because Willow and Gus lived in way more dangerous waters, but still. Luz had come to her. Why couldn’t she just melt into Luz’ arms and sigh and-

No. No, she was a furious girl. She was furious. She had to chastise Luz or her stupidity, yes.

Amity was about to continue her rant again but Luz started talking before she could.

“Listen… I know I left you guys without so much as a notice, and I’m so sorry about that. But at least let me talk, okay? You need to tell Willow and Gus as well. And-… Sit down, maybe, I don’t want you getting hurt again.”

Amity slowly nodded as the tension left her body and she returned to her bed, her face colored in a blazing blush, then she sat down and patted next to her. Okay.

If Luz had already come all the way here, why not let her talk to make the way worth it.

The Latina happily bounced, then she plopped down next to her and kicked her shoes off, squealing.

“Girls night!”

Amity blushed, but she honestly liked the sound of that. So, she sat back against her headboard and propped up her cast on a pillow, watching Luz cross her legs and lean against the other side of the bed.

“So…”, the young witchling awkwardly began, twirling one of her green strands of hair. She hadn’t even noticed she had kept it down, “What exactly happened at the Emperor’s Coven after Willow and Gus told Eda? Our stories kinda cut off there.”

Luz gulped. Coming on strong, Blight, she thought to herself.

“Well, right after Willow and Gus left, Lilith put me in a magic bubble prison and waited for Eda. She seemed super tense about that, and she was right to be because they had a witch’s duel against which ours looked like a kindergarten fight.”

Amity had to giggle at Luz getting into the story. She had always admired the expressive human, but she motioned Luz to keep it down a bit, fearing her mother might hear.

“And then, oh man Amity, you should’ve seen Eda! She fought so well and ferocious! I was even a little scared of her!”

The more the human reexplored her memories, the more she started to play out the story. At first, she just gestured wildly, but at some point when Eda and Lilith had upped their fight, she had jumped up on Amity’s bed and motioned the movements, letting her hands clash together whenever their mentors had done and let Amity see the memory through her body language.

She jumped down to the floor and moved in bigger motions, telling Amity how she had gotten free, motioning the bubble and how she had popped it, and then how Lilith had thrown her off the bridge just to drain her sister.

Amity gasped at that.

“Aren’t there spikes on the bottom?!”, she hissed, suddenly starting to see her former idol a bit differently, but Luz grinned at that, nodding excitedly.

“So many spikes! But Eda caught me and held me up for as long as she could, even if Lilith used her magic to push me down! A-And then-…”

Luz visibly deflated.

Immediately, Amity felt bad for asking. The human remained silent for a second, then she crawled back on the bed and pulled her legs close, suddenly looking so small and vulnerable.

“W-Were you injured…?”, she tried carefully, but Luz shook her head.

“Eda used up all her magic for me. She turned into the Owl Beast and saved me, but got herself captured… And then Lilith just shut me out. She told me to go back into the human realm.”

Amity slowly pulled her leg close as well, this time mirroring Luz, and propped up her chin on her knee.

“I’m so sorry, Luz…”

“It’s not that bad.”, Luz already smiled again and shrugged it off, but she could see the pain in her eyes, and the tears welling up. It must’ve been a painful thing to watch.

“And what happened at the Petrification ceremony?”, Amity finally asked, hoping to let go of the bad memories, and sure enough, Luz lightened up a little again.

“I kicked some Emperor butt is what happened!”, she exclaimed, and already stood on the bed again, making Amity chuckle and loosen up as well.

Luz began telling her about how she let herself be caught by stepping on grass, coaxing out another laugh from Amity, then she started retelling how she escaped the guards with her glyphs and beat them all up before making Eda recognize her again and her giving up the portal to the human realm.

Once again, the human gulped, but she continued telling her about how she faced Lilith and they both stumbled into the magical door.

“Luz, you okay?”, Amity asked once Luz went silent again, pulling out the key from her shirt. She didn’t recognize that key, but she supposed it unlocked the portal to the human realm.

“Have you thought about going back there for good since that incident?”

For some reason, Luz's face fell at that, then she continued in a small voice.

“Lilith, King, and I went through the portal and I got up in the forest behind my Mami’s house… I recognized it. And I swear I could almost see the roof.”, Amity felt there was a final note to her voice, “She then told me she had betrayed the Emperor and had come back to save Eda.”

Amity gasped at that and looked back at the poster of the Emperor’s Coven that her mother had put back up again after Amity had ripped it down after the Emperor had announced the human to be a criminal.

“Lilith really changed sides?”, she couldn’t believe it. First, her mentor tries to kill Luz cold-blooded, then she betrays the Emperor, all within 24 hours?

“Yeah. She didn’t want her sister petrified. She actually just wanted Eda to be healed because the Emperor had promised her to do that. She felt really guilty after the emperor didn’t heal her.”

Amity nodded slowly, then Luz continued, curling in on the bed again.

“We went back. I-… I looked back into the human realm and I-… I really miss my Mami, you know? But-… I had such an awful feeling about that.”, Luz pulled up her shoulders, “After that, the Emperor showed up and sent Lilith and King up to be thrown into the cage with Eda.”

Amity subconsciously held her breath.

“And what happened then?”

Luz's face split into a well-known smug grin. In an instant she jumped up again and pulled her cape around her, acting out the Emperor challenging her, and her fighting back. She told Amity how she battled him, and he had defeated her with ease of course, but she was smarter than he had thought.

“And then he had me on my knees and was all high and mighty, but I had hidden an ice glyph under my hand and chipped his mask! I even got the piece here, look!”

Amity stretched out her hand and Luz dropped a piece of what looked like bone into her hand, making her shiver. This was the piece the Emperor had lost, then.

She looked back up to Luz with respect.

“You actually injured him?”

Luz giggled.

“He was actually super pissed about that.”, then she immediately sobered up again, furrowing her eyebrows, “Now that I think about it, he could’ve very well killed me for that. But he was just amused.”

Amity shuddered again, handing back the piece Luz had broken off his skull. She suddenly felt very, very uneasy about the witch she had always looked up to.

“Well, and then he told me that he wouldn’t have cared for Eda, but because I showed up, he realized she must’ve had a portal.”, once again, Luz twisted and turned the key in her fingers, and Amity didn’t understand, but she let her friend continue, “He wanted it… He pressured me into giving it to him, saying he’d only let me go to Eda and save her if I gave him the portal. So-…So I did.”

Amity scooted closer to Luz and gave her a sympathetic gaze, almost reaching out to her but she refrained. Unless she wanted to blush all night.

“But that’s your way home, Luz…”

The girl nodded as she hugged her legs, pressing her chin against her knees and looking down at the key that now laid between the two girls. Sighing, she collected herself again and Amity saw a little tear rolling down her cheek before wiping it away.

“But I couldn’t let him win. I couldn’t let him have a way to the human realm. My Mami is there. I didn’t want him hurting her. So, I placed a few fire glyphs on it and destroyed it.”

Amity gasped at that, the horror of Luz’s situation finally settling in. She had willingly destroyed her way home to protect her mother. She had destroyed the only link to the human realm, and now she could possibly be staying here forever.

Amity’s own feelings almost betrayed her, but she didn’t let them. Luz was hurting and she had to be there for her.

“I’m so sorry, Luz…”

“Me, too…”, the girl mumbled, then she breathed through and shrugged, “I was able to save Eda. That’s something I won’t regret. We flew back to the Owl House after I freed them and Lilith shared the curse with Eda, so now they’re both in their human form and can’t do any magic, but I’m teaching them glyphs. Hooty then relocated the house, you know, he has legs.”

Both shuddered for a moment when they remembered the Moonlight Conjuring when they had seen Hooty’s awful giant legs, but Luz was able to chuckle again.

“I can’t tell you where we went, but we’re safe there. And I had quite a week, actually!”

The following half an hour was well spent with Luz telling her all about her adventures, about her teaching both her mentors' glyphs and about trying to find new spells and even encountering some monsters a few times, the downsides of living in the wild, while the two experienced witches didn’t have any magic.

Amity cringed from time to time when Luz showed her some new scars from the adventures she had, and she was once again reminded of how fragile her friend was.

Of course, witches got hurt as well, but they healed faster and they could handle a lot more than humans. Plus, witches had souls tethered to the astral planes, they could sometimes come back. Meanwhile, for humans, sometimes it was enough to receive a hit on the head and they’d die. Amity shivered at that. She didn’t want Luz dead and it was honestly a miracle already that she had survived the Boiling Isles that long, especially with her tendency to get hurt.

Titan, that felt bad. Without Eda and Lilith being able to protect her, Luz was the most capable of defending herself against stuff like monsters and injuries and other disasters. She didn’t like that at all. With Eda’s powers that was another story, but now, looking at Luz made her feel so helpless.

It wasn’t that she wasn’t impressed with how fast the human had learned and how impressive her magic skills were, but she just felt uneasy about Eda not being in commission to protect Luz whenever she needed it anymore.

The time came for Luz to go home again. She couldn’t risk staying for too long, she had a long journey ahead to the Owl House (or a short one, Luz insisted, you’ll never know!), and she had to get going now. They both got up and Luz walked to the window that Amity had closed again after she had arrived, grabbing Owlbert and turning back to her friend. Amity shivered at the cool breeze from outside, then she turned back to Luz.

“If you need anything, don’t hesitate to come by, okay?”, she clarified and Luz nodded, “And greet Eda and Lilith from me. Tell them I won’t say a thing.”

Her friend nodded again, but Amity couldn’t take it. Titan, she looked so childish for a public enemy, with her big brown eyes and her goofy grin. The colorful band-aid Amity had watched the entire evening on Luz’s jaw reminded her again how vulnerably her crush was.

Blush be damned.

Amity stepped forward and wrapped Luz in a tight hug, pressing herself against her. Luz stuttered at that, then she returned the hug and wrapped her arms around Amity.

Weak nerd arms my butt, she thought to herself when Luz pulled her in tightly.

“Don’t be too reckless.”, Luz merely chuckled, but Amity huffed and squeezed her a little, hiding her face in Luz’s neck and letting one hand slowly slip into her hair. If she was already hugging her, she might as well explore it. Luz didn’t seem to have a problem with that, anyway, “I mean it, you can’t just run into danger headfirst.”

“If I didn’t, you’d be sewn into a book by now.”, Luz smugly replied and Amity stopped tousling her hair to smack her softly, before going back to playing with her soft locks again.

“And whose fault is that?”

“The twins?”, Luz replied, even more smug than before, but Amity let her have this. After all, she could hug her right now.

They stayed like this for another moment, and another, turning into minutes and Amity didn’t wanna let go, she didn’t want to, because she knew she probably wouldn’t see Luz for another week again, or maybe even longer, and she couldn’t bear the thought of that, so she only pulled her tighter.

“Stay safe, Luz…”, she finally mumbled around the lump in her throat but still didn’t let go, only pushing her head closer against Luz’s neck and keeping her arms wrapped around the girl, afraid of letting her go and not seeing her again for so long. Titan, what might happen to her? The stories Luz told of the week alone were already scary enough as it is, and she didn’t want to get the message one day that Luz was-

Amity felt a shiver running down her spine as she didn’t dare to finish that thought. She wouldn’t lose Luz, not again. The human was too smart for that, too skilled and too fast. She had seen her in action. She had seen what Luz could do. Not only did she help her defeat Grom, but she also fought the Emperor and lived to tell the tale! Not many witches could claim that for themselves, but Luz had succeeded. Amity sniffled again and felt Luz tightening their embrace.

“If you get hurt, I swear I’ll smack you so hard you’ll be seeing bats flying around your head for days.”, the Latina smiled at that and nodded, then they slowly broke their hug and she loosened her fist that she had subconsciously clenched into Luz’s shirt, “Take care of Eda, Lilith, King, and that bird tube thing, okay?”

“I will, Amity. And you better tell Willow and Gus that I’m okay.”

The witchling smiled at that, then she helped Luz up on the windowsill and held her hand for a little longer, “If you need any school material, I can give you copies of my notes and I can ask the twins, Gus and Willow, as well.”

Luz gave her some weird sort of gesture, maybe a human one, where she showed a thumb up, an excited grin on her face. Amity decided not to question it.

“Now that sounds like an amazing plan. I’ll be back for that as soon as Eda lets me again. That might be a few days… But even Lilith said we laid low for enough time now, and Emperor Belos hasn’t shown any bigger attempts to search for us, so maybe I’ll be back by the end of the week.”

Amity didn’t allow her hopes to be up.

“And you better figure out an abomination glyph so you can become an actual witch.”, Amity winked, her insides feeling hot. Was she flirting?!

“You can count on me, Blight!”, with that, Luz jumped off the windowsill and onto Owlbert who spread his wings and carried her in the air.

Amity almost wished Luz would hover by the window, not wanting to leave, say anything else. Flirt a little more, banter some, fly closer, and caress her cheek. Maybe they could even kiss, Titan…

But the human had already pulled up the hood of her cape and began flying higher, above the trees and into the darkness.

Amity looked out into the night for some time still, wondering where the Owl House had found a new hidden spot where it’d keep Luz safe from the emperor’s grasp, then she closed the window and took a few steps into her room. Her body felt so cold where Luz’s had pressed against her, colder than before. She sighed when she wrapped her arms around herself again, closing her eyes. She could almost feel their embrace again. Titan and she could feel her throat closing up again, hear her voice cracking. Against better judgment, she hoped Luz had understood what had happened there. But she had also gotten to know Luz as the dumbest smart person she knew.

She doubted Luz would see her any differently. After all, they were friends and Amity hadn’t even been that nice to her at the beginning. She had been downright mean.

Who would wanna be with Amity, anyway…?

She was just a spoiled rich brat, like Boscha and all the others she had hung out with.

The missing warmth in front of her stayed missing and she bit her lip. If only she could’ve kept Luz here for a little longer. Just a little longer. Maybe even long enough for her to confess to her.

Or just to keep her scent here.

Amity dropped down on her bed and shuffled over to where the pillow was that she had handed Luz at some point, for her to lean against it. It was still propped up against the board at the other end of her bed. Hesitating, she picked it up and sat back on her knees, mustering it.

Maybe…

She felt so stupid for trying this, but after a quick reassuring glance that nobody was looking, she lifted the pillow to her face and buried her nose in it. Sure enough, it smelled like Luz.

Hmmm… A little like lemons. And sweet.

Amity smiled and sniffed again, then she put the pillow down and shook her head at herself. No, this was not happening. She did not just sniff the pillow her friend had leaned against. She did not just do that and she wouldn’t do that again ever and ever and ever-

The scent filled her nose again when she squealed and hugged the pillow close, before letting herself fall back onto her mattress, her face deeply buried into the softness she was hugging. It was almost as good as hugging Luz. Honestly, Amity couldn’t even remember the last time she really hugged someone. Had she ever? Like, genuinely, held for minutes without end?

Maybe that was her first real hug and she shared it with Luz!

Still smiling, Amity changed into her pajamas and crawled into her bed, her hands quickly finding the pillow again that Luz had leaned against. The scent was fading but still there. Amity sighed as she lied down on her stomach and nuzzled her nose into the pillow. She couldn’t help but enjoy this super embarrassing moment. But she was alone, too, so she wasn’t too worried.

After all, nobody could say anything against a little fawning.

She didn’t even feel herself falling asleep to the scented pillow, but when she dreamt, she dreamt of Luz and hugging and seeing her again. For the first time in a week, Amity slept well.

 ---

Once again, Amity saw Luz jumping up on the windowsill, her brown eyes twinkling with amusement. Amity’s heart jumped at the wink the Latina shot her, and she couldn’t help but feel her chest swelling with warmth at that.

Following her to the windowsill, Amity felt so weak to her knees, seeing Luz starting to lounge on the board, both knees pulled up and her elbows resting on them, her hands hanging.

She looked so careless while she watched Amity, only making her heart flutter more.

“Will you come back?”, she heard herself asking, her voice shaky but luckily, Luz didn’t notice. Amity stepped closer, hugging her arms around herself when Luz looked down at her with a relaxed look on her face.

“Of course, I will. I couldn’t make it through a week without visiting you.”, she replied, her voice suddenly so husky that Amity felt herself swoon. Instead, she leaned against the side that Luz was facing, smiling back at the girl watching her every movement.

“Please stay safe, Luz. It’s dangerous for you to be here.”, she tried, but Luz just turned and let one leg hang out the window, leaning to her and softly nudging her jaw so she would look at her.

“I will risk everything for you, Amity, you know that.”

Once again, Amity felt herself melting, but she grabbed Luz’s wrist and carefully cradled her hand with both of hers, sighing, “Luz, my parents or the guards could find you at any minute. It’s not safe for you to visit me as often.”

Luz shrugged that off, giving into Amity’s hands and bringing up hers to add to their hold, reassuringly cupping her hand.

“I don’t care, I will escape in time. But seeing you is worth the danger.”, she said before bringing up Amity’s hands in hers, kissing the base of her thumb, “I don’t care what they say.”

The witchling rushed forward and tightly hugged Luz, feeling the girl safely catch her and hold her close.

“You need to be okay, please. I can’t lose you.”, she cradled Luz’s head close and braided her fingers through her dark locks, while Luz softly rubbed her back, holding her close.

“You won’t, Amity, I’ll always be right there.”

After hugging, Luz grabbed Owlbert and jumped off the windowsill, onto the staff. This time, she flew back up to Amity on her window and smirked at her.

“You better be safe, Blight.”

The girl felt her cheeks burning up and her heart skipping when she reached out to Luz, interlacing their fingers when she got the chance.

“I will be. You, too, you understood?”, Luz nodded, then she flew a little closer still, their faces now getting closer to each other, “I wish I could come with you to the Owl House…”

But Luz shook her head at that, flying even closer, their faces getting really close now.

“You can’t, it’d be too dangerous for you…”, she whispered and somehow, Amity worrying for Luz only made her swoon more.

“Is that a threat or a promise?”, Amity breathed and Luz chuckled at that, lifting another hand to softly caress her cheek.

“It’s both…”, she whispered back, and Amity felt drawn to her but not quite, always not quite, “You need to stay here, Amity, where I know you’re safe and sound. I need you to be safe for me to function.”

“You couldn’t otherwise?”, Amity’s heart fluttered at that and Luz sighed, softly shaking her head.

“I couldn’t focus if I didn’t know you were okay…”, she argued and Amity almost couldn’t hold herself up on the windowsill, her elbow threatening to give in.

“… You’re such a sap…”, she breathed again, before Luz gave Owlbert a nudge upwards, catching her lips. Amity leaned into the kiss and sighed dreamily, feeling Luz’s warm face pressing against hers and her soft, sweet lips moving on hers.

Without thinking, she grabbed Luz’s collar and pulled her in, pressing against her while nuzzling her nose. Titan, this was nice.

Amity heard footsteps outside of her door, then the voices of her parents echoed through the hallway and she broke off the kiss, but Luz chased after her and caught her again, making Amity melt momentarily, before leaning back.

“Luz, you have to go, you have to go now.”, she panted, still holding her hand. The girl kept holding on and shook her head, but Amity pushed her away, parting their hands and looking back to her door where she could see her parents’ shadows.

“Amity, I need you to know-”

“No, Luz! You need to leave, now!”

Some guards that had been stationed in front of her parents’ estate came running over the grass, but Luz didn’t care. She flew closer again, cupped Amity’s cheek, and kissed her.

“… I love you.”, she whispered, pressing her lips to Amity’s again-

 ---

With a start, Amity shot up in her bed and stared at the window. No Luz.

Then she looked back to her door, standing in the darkness, unmoving. No parents.

Sighing, breathing through, she calmed herself down and again and pressed a hand to her rapidly beating heart. It had just been a dream.

Softly, her hand wandered up to her lips and she smiled, still feeling her heart beating rapidly. No kiss.

But it had been a nice feeling, at least, kissing Luz in her dreams. She let herself fall back into her sheets and rolled to the side, cuddling herself in while voicelessly squealing.

That’d be so nice, having Luz pull a knight in shining armor and kiss her like this. Her dream had overdone it on the dramatic parts, but she had loved every second, even if the memory slipped from her mind more and more the longer she thought about it.

How she wished that had actually happened earlier, but the actual memory of Luz visiting her was a lot sweeter than her dream. The girl sighed before lying back down on her back and looking up to the ceiling, smiling to herself.

She had actually come here and talked to her and told her everything she had seen. And she had allowed Amity to hug her.

Well, she knew Luz liked hugging people in general, but she had felt so warm and safe in Luz’s arms. She wanted that again so badly, she could barely wait for the end of the week.

 ---

Let me know if you liked it!

[viking-raider]

The Belle and the Bane - Intro

Summary: How the legend of the Bane began and your simple life.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/You

Word Count: 2,611

Rating: Fantasy!AU, Mentions of death, Illness, Language, Angst, Curses

Inspiration: The beauty and the beast, among other things.

Author’s Note: Thanks to @wondersofdreaming​ for brainstorming this with me, hammering out the details! Tell me what you think!

Once upon a time, in an ancient land, there was a small village of three hundred dreary and poor inhabitants. In this small village of Mintwillow, there was a legend of dark and sinful proportions; the legend went like this.

Living in a neglected castle, a handful of leagues from the village, placed perilously on the edge of a cliff, with the roaring and roiling waves of an ocean below, crashing against the rock face and eroding it away, was who the village called, the Bane. He had been the fourth of five children, all brothers, who had all lived happily and harmoniously with their loving and pampering parents. The family was the most prosperous family within nearly sixty leagues of the village, which, at the time, was just as prosperous and bustling, riding the wave of their success.

But, then, disaster struck.

A horrible illness washed over the county, striking the inhabitants of Mintwillow the hardest. The Bane's family, despite their wealth and good standing, also became victims of the disease. Every last one of them became sick with it; bedridden and raving, bodies throbbing, as if all of their bones were shattering, and sweating so profusely from their fevers, that their mattresses were soaked through, and took turns in getting sick. Their servants, also sick themselves, did their best to care for their beloved masters, but it was all for not. First, the mistress of the castle died of the illness, followed by the youngest son and the third oldest. The father and oldest went two days later, but the second oldest and second youngest held out for a fortnight. On the night of the fourteenth day, even after a glitter of hope of becoming well again, the second oldest perished, leaving only the second youngest alive.

Who still fought for his life against the illness.

He had languished between getting better for a day or two, before becoming quite worse and being only moments, if not seconds, from death. But, finally, after nearly another fortnight, the second youngest son roused, his fever breaking and his life safe from the dark tentacles of death that had taken all of his family, all that mattered and he held so dearly to his heart.

It had taken time, and a good many lives, before the plague that washed over Mintwillow to pass away, leaving an ugly scar in the lives and minds of the inhabitants. While a mass grave had to be excavated for the townspeople, the bodies of the dead family were given single graves in their ancestral graveyard, just down the hill from the castle. It was the day of their funeral, even though they had already been in their graves for a month or more, that the second youngest son, now the heir and executor of the family empire, realized the amount of power he suddenly wielded; the mass fortunes of gold he had at his disposal, for every want, whim and fancy he could ever dream of, with no one to tell him no, or hold him in check with the spending.

That was when the Bane came to be.

He threw huge balls for the top families in the land, inviting the prettiest women his staff could find and lived in the county. He spent thousands of pounds on furnishings, decorations and things he had no need for; some he didn't even know how to work and use, but bought, simply because he could. But, within two years of his new found power, the money was starting to dwindle. He was spending more than the family business could support.

So, he taxed the small town of Mintwillow.

Raising the taxes on the goods he supplied them, supplies and goods they needed to live and support themselves, since the next option to do so, was over a hundred leagues away. He taxed them for everything he could, and even thought up new things he could tax them on, because he knew without him, they would all likely starve.

After awhile, spending mountains of gold, throwing lavish parties and having an endless line of women, didn't fill the hole that had been left at the loss of his parents and brothers. Nonetheless, he kept spending the gold and dancing at his parties and bedding every woman he could. It had become a habit now, instead of a pleasure. However, in the third year after the illness, and quite suddenly, he no longer threw lavish parties that lasted for days, he no longer spent vast amounts of gold or entertained a woman. Some in the village speculated that he had packed up and moved out of the county, having slighted some young lady's honor and ran before her father could force him into marrying her. Some said, someone he had overtaxed had become so enraged by it, they murdered him and his body was decaying somewhere in the castle.

But, the impossibly high taxes kept being enforced and collected.

What he had done, was reduced the staff to a single butler, closed up all of the rooms, but his own bedroom, a study and the kitchen; leaving the rest to grow thick layers of dust, cobwebs, moth holes and to fall into disrepair and neglect; leaving the ghosts of his former life to inhabit them.

Shutting the world away and darkening the once bright and full of life castle.

Why would he suddenly close out the world like that? The answer isn't as simple as one might think.

During one of the biggest balls he had ever thrown, the girls were flocking him, as usual, when an exceptionally gorgeous woman approached him, she was so radiant in her gown and her self assurance, that he couldn't help be attracted to her, drawn to her glow, like a moth to the naked flame of a candle. Pushing away all other women, he approached her, turning his handsome charm onto her. She was just as drawn to him as he was to her. They danced and floated around each other, none other existed to them, not the nearly two hundred guests or the jealous women; just him and her.

Before long, the pair were in the privacy of one of the castle's many rooms, sitting close together on a divan, smiling faces so near to each other, they shared the same breath. They shared jokes and quips, flirtations and jests. But, suddenly, her behavior changed and her bright eyes dimmed, like a dangerous storm cloud.

“You like all your fancy things, don't you?” She hissed at him. “Having every woman fling herself upon your feet, like a simpering puppy.”

He blinked at her, taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor. “What are you talking about?” He demanded, pulling away from her; shock and brewing rage in his blue eyes and handsome face.

“Taxing the lands and lives of all the poor souls in this land, while you sit fit and happy upon your mountains of gold and privilege.” Her own rage grew, out matching his own. “Yet, you are as miserable, if not more so, than they are. But, you still tax them, sucking them dry, until they are so far in debt to you, they fling themselves from the cliffs, to end their suffering.”

“Suffering you cause for nothing.”

“I won't be spoken to like this.” He said in a low growl, his upper lip twitching with a snarl. “Get out and never show your face here again! Or I'll show you what true misery is!” He raved, jumping to his feet and pointing a stiff finger to the door.

She stood with him, quite gracefully for a soul so consumed with rage and distaste. “No, you will know what misery really is!” She barked, before roughly kissing him, her long nails digging into the soft flesh of his neck, leaving thin trails of blood in their stead.

“That will be the last kindness you will have for some time.” She hissed, then swept out of the room.

The room was dark and stifling hot, you could feel beads of sweat rolling down your back, as you leaned over the mortar you were currently grinding up a combination of white willow bark, yarrow and marshmallow root in. Another painful sounding and wet cough filled the single room hut your patient lived in with her husband and six children, all under the age of nine. Getting the herbs fine enough, you turned to the roaring fireplace that dominated a large section of the north wall of the hut. You had told her husband not to put so many logs on the fire, she was already badly hydrated, and the overwhelming heat of the fire, combined with her high fever, were causing her to sweat profusely, making her even more dehydrated.

But, being a man and feeling he knew better than you, he kept feeding more and more logs into the licking flames.

You suppressed an eye roll as he tossed another sizable log into the fire, sending up a shower of sparks into the chimney flue. Using the skirt of your dress, you grabbed a hold of the handle to the roiling kettle and pulled it off the hook that held it over the flames. Taking it back to the makeshift kitchen table, you dumped the ground herbs into the battered and chipped teapot, then poured in the steaming hot water, leaving it to brew the herbal tea that would reduce her fever and help quiet down her cough.

“Have her drink the whole pot.” You told him, holding the teapot, and still using your dress as a barrier, while you gently swirl the liquid inside, the heat radiating through the porcelain felt pleasant. “Even if she doesn't want to. But, don't make her drink it too fast either. Maybe a cup every half hour.” You explained to him, setting it back down on its stone coaster.

“If she gets any worse, come and get me.” You added, gathering your little bag full of herbs and other odds and ends you used as a healer for Mintwillow.

“Thank you.” The husband said gruffly, standing stiffly by his wife's side.

“Of course.” You nodded to him, then gave the youngest child, only fourteen months old, and sitting on the hearth rug, gumming on a biscuit, a smile; recalling you helping birth the babe into the world, before going out into the cold and salty air.

It was so much nicer out there, the winds pushing in pungent ocean air, salty and fresh, with a tang of fish and kelp. It was cool and refreshing, an excellent cure all to the stuffy and hot atmosphere of the hut you just left. You were nearly home, when a familiar silhouette appeared in the early evening mist, bringing a happy smile to your face.

“Hello, papa.” You greeted him as he fully appeared.

“Hello, child.” He smiled back at you, his tired and wrinkled face brightening at the sight of you. “How is she?” He asked, eyes flickering to the hut several yards behind you.

“She should be just fine.” You assured him, confidently. “Just a strong cold. Nothing I can't fight.” You chuckled, but you could see the undeniable fear and anxiety in his deep set brown eyes.

Your father, honestly, loathed that you were a healer, but he honored your choice, like he had always done your entire life. If you set your mind to something and he knew you couldn't be swayed on the subject, he would respectfully disagree, but would support you, through and through. You were his daughter, his first born, his only born, and he would move heaven and earth for your happiness. But, his fear and anxiety over your chosen profession came with good merit and reason. Nearly five years before, a great illness had swept over the village, taking so many lives. But, there was one person there, doing her utmost best to try, and at least, slow its progression.

Your mother.

She had been Mintwillow's healer longer than you had been born, before she and your father had even married. Nothing would stop her from healing her fellow villagers, not even that horrid plague. She had worked tirelessly to try and stop it, though, more often than not, she would lose to it. Your mother didn't let that stop her though, she kept trying and trying, mixing every type of herb she had and could get her hands on, looking for a cure. Your father would have to bodily drag her away from her herbalist table, just so she would take a moment to eat or drink something, to sleep, even if it was just for a moment's nap.

Then, she was right back at it.

In the end though, four dozen Mintwillow villagers died, your dearest mother, being one of them. She had caught it, after being in contact with so many of the infected, and died almost a week later; leaving only you and your father. You had gotten the illness, there was barely a single handful of people who didn't get it, but had survived, with very little after effects. Your father on the other hand, had survived, only to be severely affected by it, he couldn't work the endless hours he once had as the village's blacksmith, finding wielding the heavy tools of his craft almost too much to manage for more than an hour or two.

Which affected the household income, making so many things you both needed scarce, like food and clothing. So, taking what you had learned from your mother, you stepped into her shoes as the village healer, hoping that the occasional gold piece would help ease the burden on your father. It still wasn't enough though, and that became abundantly clear, when stiff and high taxes were pressed on the village and its workers, your father being one of them, needing the supplies for his blacksmithing, causing him to be heavily in debt.

Of all the bones in your body, there was only one of them that was mean, and it loathed the life crippling taxes that squeezed and bled every person in the village, man, woman, child and even infants. You glanced across the foggy village, to the shadowy smudge, almost hidden by the charcoal clouds, that were like puffs of wool, against stark purple sky; the castle. You hated that filthy structure that loomed over the village, like an awful eye, bringing nothing be hardship and doom. You hated the creature that lived inside of it, reaping all the benefit of your father's hard-work, while you both struggled to put half a loaf of bread on the table for one of the two meals you could afford a day; if you were lucky.

Shaking the malice away from your thoughts, you followed your father back to your home. It was a little more than the rest of the homes in Mintwillow, it was a story and a half, the kitchen and living area was all one room, there was a water closet and a back room, that was your father's room. The half story was a loft, that was your own room. You loved your room, going up the half spiral staircase to it, it was closed off, so you had the utmost level of privacy. Half of your room, hanging above a writing desk, was an array of herbs that you used for your healing.

The one thing about your room that you had a qualm with, was the single peaked window; it pointed towards the bleak structure on the stormy cliffs, forever in your sight, whenever you look out your window. You wished it would just fall off the cliff it was butted up against; the gloomy and cursed castle of the Bane.

[peter-pan-on-neverland]

Opposites Attract

Request: hey may I request a one shot for your Peter Pan story if yes can you, use my real name (Zai) instead of Y/N if you please and can you have me pans total opposite like sweet, shy everything he would hate but in the end he falls for her and becomes really protective

Pairing: Pan x Zai

Warning: None

Part 2 >

It was so surreal, everything around me seemed to move in slow motion as if I were a character stuck inside of a movie, high pitched ringing pierced through my ears and stung my brain like a thousand tiny knives pricking it. An uncontrollable tremble grabbed a hold of my body refusing to let go, toying with my muscles as though I were nothing but a puppet on a string dancing for the demon that now had possession of my tiny frame.

The air was cold, so very cold, nipping and scratching at my fare skin as I silently sat on the leaf-covered floor. So many questions ran through my mind, too many to count, too many to keep ahold of. What was this dark place I had found myself in?

Dirt and pinecones filled my nostrils as I took heavy, deep breaths in and out, in and out, in and out.

A pair of eye's shot daggers at the back of my head, sending shivers to travel up and down my spine. The knotting in my stomach became apparent, growing tighter and higher by the second. I tried my hardest to fight off the fear which coursed through my veins and stole my heart, but I couldn't. There was no power in the world, no bribe was big enough, and no prize was worthy enough to get me to turn around and meet the eyes staring at me.

As time passed I felt more and more eyes creep up behind me, taking their place and just silently watching. That's when I heard them, footsteps, shuffling, whispers in the night running through to cold air from person to person, or perhaps from monster to monster.

"What have we got here boys?" A jovial voice sounded, too old to be a child's but it held the power and wisdom of a thousand lifetimes.

"We-we think it's a girl, Pan." Another said.

Pan, so that was the creature's name. In any normal circumstance, someone might jump for joy at the sign of another person, but this was no normal circumstance and the confirmation of other people only made my skin crawl. Every red flag was waving and alarm bell ringing, I was not safe, not one bit.

"She might be dead, or unconscious," Someone sounded, "she hasn't moved in a while."

Whoever this Pan was leant down close to me, so close I could feel his breath travel down the nape of my neck. He placed two gentle fingers on my pulse, paying for a second.

"She's not dead," He confirmed, "James and Dan set up a tent for her, Felix see if she has any wounds and take care f them if she does."

It was Clear Pan had authority over everyone else there as if he were some kind of mayor or leader, the boys named did nothing to displease him as their footsteps grew quieter and quieter.

"Where are you going, Pan?" A rather deep, husky voice spoke, curiosity dripping off every word yet he was confident in his ways. Maybe he was somewhere higher up on the food chain in this strange land that he had to power to question and possibly even disobey.

"To ask the shadows why they bought a bloody girl to the island." His tone had changed, sounding more aggravated than intrigued.

There were no other words exchanged between the two and I could feel myself being lifted off the cold ground, I felt weightless in the arms of this stranger that I was too afraid to look at.

Perhaps I would become a burden to the boy, but I had no energy left to think about that, I had no energy left to think about anything. I wanted nothing more than to drift off into a peaceful sleep but my body would not allow it for the danger had not yet passed, it kept trying to fight and fight but finally lost the battle and sleep had won out.

I woke up, my head pounding like there was no tomorrow. I found myself in a white tent, laying upon a mattress, only a thin blanket keeping the cold from consuming me. Swinging my legs over the side of the make-shift bed I walked towards the fabric flaps, sunlight poured into the room as I pulled them back, almost blinding me.

A tall figure hovered over me, blocking out the sun. For a split second, he looked like a dark, black giant but once my eyes adjusted I took a closer look at his face. Is pale blue eyes stared at mine for what seemed like a few minutes, becoming familiar with my brown ones. I noted down the scar that ran down his cheek, how did he get it?

"Pan," He called, "she's awake."

My eyes averted to the boy, who looked no older than seventeen, quickly stalking towards us. Panic flashed through my body enduring my paralyzed, there was nothing I could do but watch as they got closer and closer despite the urge of wanting to run and flee.

His eyes stood out to me the most, the vibrant green colour seemed to radiate off him, capturing and gaze and holding it there. This boy had power, that much was obvious, what scared me was how he used it. There's no doubt in my mind that he could mortally wound or even kill me if I looked at him the wrong way, the safest route is to be obedient otherwise I could end up dead.

"Follow me." He said sternly, I didn't dare speak, I didn't dare to even breathe I just nodded my head in his direction before silently following after him like a little lost puppy.

One step after another I felt more and more eyes scanning over my body, however, I would never meet anyone's gaze. I wouldn't dare give any of these people the satisfaction, after all, they still need to tell me how I got here in the first place. I felt like an animal caged up in the zoo, just a pretty and unusual thing for them to stare and gawk at, all the meanwhile missing my home.

A pain shot through my chest, a deep aching at the thought of my family and friends, at the thought of everything I had left behind.

"Sit." The leader spoke, snapping me from my thoughts.

I complied without any issues, placing myself onto the wooden stump poking its head out of the ground to say hello to the golden, glowing sun beaming down on everything below it. I hadn't noticed just how beautiful this place was in the day time, the lush green trees, the birds tweeting, the odd deer walking by before scattering and running off from the wild people whom they shared the land with.

I felt his strange green eyes watching me, finally, I had worked up enough courage to look into them. They were filled with wonder and amazement, much like a child seeing snow for the first time.

"You can start by telling me your name," The boy's thick British accent becoming prominent.

"Zai," I whispered, nearly audible but he heard it and so did the forest.

"Zai," He repeated as if he were testing out how my name sounded on his tongue, "Cute. Now, what are you doing on my island?"

Oh, so it was his island.

"I don't know," I said, my tone sickly sweet but the boy in front of me could tell I was being genuine.

"You're a strange one aren't you?" He claimed, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear an act that made my cheeks turn a deep shade of red as I desperately tried to hide my face from his view.

I should be afraid, I should be terrified, running for the hills and never looking back. There was danger behind those vibrant green orbs, so much danged but for some reason that only drew me in more. The very thing that should make me leave is the same exact thing compelling me to stay, how can that be?

I had never been one for diving into the deep end or taking risks, I liked to be in control of my fate and how everything played out, I know this boy could never give me security so why am I being pulled closer and closer t him?

He's attractive yes, as if he were chiseled by the God's themselves, but it's more than that, it's deeper than that. The risk, the excitement of it all is what drew me in and managed to hold me there. Maybe staying here wasn't as big of a heartache as I previously thought.

"Well I guess that's irrelevant, I'll be sending you home now." He announced.

"What makes you think I want to go home?" I asked, standing up defensively.

He raised a single eyebrow at me, the expression on his face caused me to shiver, "So you want to stay little one?"

I could feel a smile creeping its way onto my face at his words, "Perhaps to do, I could be of use to you,"

I desperately tried to come up with a list of jobs I could do just so he could let me stay, although I was still scared I had this feeling deep inside on me. Way down in my bones as if I were meant to be here as if my soul belonged here.

"I can cook." I blurted out.

Only to be met with a smirk, "My boys can cook too."

"I can clean," I said.

"So can my boys." The leader retaliated.

"Can they?" I asked, raising my eyebrow to him, mimicking his previous actions, he gave a low husky chuckle to my somewhat sassy comment.

"Oh, I'm sorry princess, is it not up to your standard?" The boy smirked in return, toying with me a little. He could sense when I was on edge, I knew he could, maybe a skill he had picked up in the years that he had been alive.

"Please, I'll do anything, anything you ask of me!" I pleaded, hoping and praying that he would allow me to reside here with him.

"It doesn't matter what you want." His demeanor suddenly turning nasty at the flip of a switch, the green eyed boy stalked closer and closer to me until my back had been pressed against a tree, leaning down he whispered, "I don't have girls on my island, you're weak I have no need for your kind."

I felt my blood being to boil, this misogynistic-

I held myself back from doing something that I regret, out of the fear that I could possibly end up dead at any second.

"Maybe they are where you're from," I said in a low yet innocent tone, my words sounding like a smooth lullaby slipping into his mind, "But I am different."

"Fine, I'll be interested to see how long you last around here." He stated, "I'll get Felix to show you around."

He took a few steps back, giving me the space that I craved. I let out a breath that I didn't know I was holding in until now. Pan's comment not only sprinkled fear and dread into me once more but also seemed to excite me as if I had something to prove to these people. One thing was apparent, they were not people I wanted to play with or tourment. I was better off just seeing how this plays out and trying not to end up dead in the process.

Within the day I had circled around the island twice seeing all the beautiful sights and scenery as Felix, who is the second in command around here, told me what was what. His explanations were only met with a nod as I was far too shy and nervous to open my mouth around him or any of the boys for that matter. Luckily for me, Felix wasn't much of a talker either, we spent most of our little adventure in awkward silence.

The more I explored the more I wanted, no longed to stay here. The crystal blue seas, the majestic waterfalls, the tall towering trees, and the white sandy beaches. This place seemed like paradise, shame the people who inhabited it didn't radiate the same energy.

The once pale blue sky turn to a dark navy as tiny, white sparkling dots hang high in the sky, a roaring fire was situated in the middle of the camp the boys all sat around eating, laughing, and having a good time. They all seemed so happy, yet the damage behind their eyes was apparent, they all had the same look behind them.

I felt a presence sit down beside me, "Zai," they spoke, to which I said nothing. I didn't turn my head to look at the person whose voice I had heard not hours before.

Before I knew what was happening a hand was placed under my chin, forcing me to look in their direction, "It's not a wise idea to ignore me, little one."

"Sorry," I whispered, I knew he heard my faint words but I wasn't entirely sure they made that much of a difference.

"Funny, just hours ago we were having a perfectly fluent conversation and now you seem so shaken up you're hardly getting your words out, tell me, why is that?" He knew what he was doing, it was apparent, he knew he had the upper hand, he knew I was still scared.

I shrugged at their so-called king, not giving him the satisfaction he craved, he wanted me to squirm, but I wouldn't allow that to happen.

As the days went by my shyness didn't disappear or get easier, in fact, it seemed to get worse. I was on edge, especially around Pan, it wasn't hard to tell that the boy was ruthless.

It was hot, the sun beaming down on the island. We all slowly walk deeper and deeper into the forest the boys not only thankful for the shade but excited for the activities ahead. Pan had promised us a game of target practice, something that I had learned I was terrible at.

Silently, I watched from afar as the boys took turns shooting apples off one another head. Of course, there were many injuries but they loved the thrill of it. I got many stares, none of which I paid any attention to, but what riled me up the most were to comments.

"What's she even doing here?"

"Why would Pan allow a girl into the camp?"

"Look at her she wouldn't even hurt a fly."

"She doesn't have what it takes to be one of us, she's too sweet."

"I wish she would just go back to where she came from."

Biting my tongue, I tried not to let their words get to me. Sometimes I fantasize about those boys tied to a tree, no means of escape or survival, I would pull the arrow back tight, stretching the string of the bow before letting go. The arrow would soar through the air before landing deep into their skulls with a satisfying think, bullseye.

I could feel the wicked smile on my face grow as my heart became that little bit darker. What was wrong with me? I had never wished ill will upon anyone before, so why was I starting to know. Maybe it was the island, supplying me with anger as if it were some kind of git, some means for survival if in a wretched yet beautiful place.

Suddenly, everything stopped and silence grabbed hold of everyone around. My interest was peaked, I rose from my makeshift seat to see what was going on. There the leader of the lost boys had one of his very own pinned to a tree by an invisible force, choking and spluttering as his legs kicked and kicked.

I wasn't sure what had brought this on, but my gaze was held hostage by the scene unfolding before me, the boy begged and begged apologizing relentlessly, but none of that mattered to Pan. We all stood there and watched, some boys with tears in their eyes as their friend asked for mercy and was not given it, I almost felt bad for the boy until I had realized who it was.

Adam, the little ring leader of the group of boys who liked to push my buttons.

We all looked on as the light slowly left his eyes, his cold body slumped to the floor, no one dared to move.

"Fun's over boys," His powerful voice boomed, echoing all over the forest, "Get back to work."

One by one the boys went back to camp, they were shaken up, but not as bad as I was. I still felt a sense of remorse for the poor boy, but the more I reminded myself of all the things he said the sad about it I felt. I still wasn't able to take my eyes off his lifeless body until there was no one else around apart from Pan.

I looked up at him, but no words left my mouth, they were all choked up in my throat. The smirk on his face let me know he was proud of what he had accomplished a minute ago, what kind of a monster was he?

He left, leaving a wink as his parting gift to me.

A cold shiver ran down my spine, I didn't like what he had done and worst of all I didn't like how he had just made me feel.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you guys like part 1!!

[houndin-around]

Covenant | Maul

warnings; slight age gap? I guess, can’t remember if there’s cursing oops, boss-employee relationship

a/n; First ofF I’M DROPPING THIS BC IT’S A SPECIAL SOMEONE’S BIRTHDAYYYYY!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY KENNA ILY<3 @hxldmxdxwn 

- I’ve been avoiding dropping this because I’m super self conscious about my writing but oh well here we goooo! This is a more modern AU even though I use a lot of SW terms/lore but i’ll probably branch out as we go on throught he chapters. Takes place in coruscant and reader is 23! Maul ios around 30-31 haven’t fully decided yet. Uh hope everyone enjoys this!!

Summary; Getting an opportunity at a reputable company, you’re eager to show everyone what you’re made of. The only odd part is...no one knows who the owner is. 

not my gif

Curses rolled off your tongue as the silence was disturbed by the raucous alarm emitting from your phone. Hurriedly you tried to silence it, avoiding waking up your partner that is sleeping next to you. The clock read 4:55 am and the sky was still pitch black. Yet the lights of Galactic City never died, it was hard to get rid of the illumination in your room. Even some curtains weren’t enough to block the livelihood, something you still have yet to get used to. Staring up at the ceiling, the dread of leaving the warmth that consumed you whole was winning the battle lulling you back to sleep. Another ear-piercing song flowed out of your phone causing you to jolt upright. Rubbing the back of your neck, a sigh escaped your lips before you tossed your legs over the side of the mattress. From the second alarm, your boyfriend grumbled before turning over, aggressively pulling the sheets over himself.

Today was the day of your brand new job. Anxiety nestled in your gut the more you thought about it so you tried not to. Two years ago you were leaving Naboo and your family after school. It was one of the hardest things that you had to do, and being an adult wasn’t easy or all that it was chalked up to be. Living on Coruscant was a totally new experience. Everyone dressed so differently-- obsessing over the latest fashions, erasing the idea of modesty as well. Luckily for you, that’s when you met Kenth Madon. Upon arriving, your ship was having difficulties, and you needed a mechanic. Out of all the shops around you, you chose his almost as if it were fate. Due to frequenting his shop, Kenth got the courage to ask to see you outside of the permanently grungy, gas smelling establishment. It wasn’t your first relationship, although it has been quite a while. It was nice to have someone give you the type of attention Kenth did.

Since he grew up on Coruscant, your boyfriend claimed to know what real fashion was. Hinting at the fact yours was a little outdated. So,  he helped you restyle your wardrobe as you lacked any type of pizazz when it came to fitting in. At least according to him. During your outing, you still were drawn to rather lackluster choices of apparel, but at least it was slightly updated. Slipping on a white puff-sleeve shirt, you quickly tucked it into the black dress pants you were insistent on getting. The reality of putting on this outfit made your palms sweaty, your heart lurch up in your throat. with the realization of starting this new chapter in your life. Grabbing your white one-button jacket, you scanned your room one last time before placing a feathery kiss on Kenth’s stubbled cheek.  

—————————

“Next stop: Galactic Square. Please, refrain from getting up early and blocking the exits. Thank you.” the feminine voice echoed throughout the subway train.

You rubbed your hands up and down your thighs, staring out of the viewport of the train. The job itself was competitive and the position wasn’t guaranteed. Nineteen other candidates were presenting their brand new prototypes for QuanCom, as well. The business that created the HoloNet, the Holocomms, comlinks, and much more. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. This job could start you down a successful track, but you didn’t care. It was honestly only for the good-paying credits, since it was hard to find a job degree or not.

With a sudden stop shoving you against the seat, you quickly checked the time on your iPhone. 6:00 am. “Kriff!” you hissed to yourself. You were told work began at 8:00 am, so what in the hell were you going to do for an hour and a half? Being early helped ease your anxiety, though being this early only fueled it-- making it a lose-lose battle. Waiting for the other passengers to exit, you soon rose to your feet, swiftly leaping off the train. Examining the underground tunnels, your eyes shifted all over trying to locate the staircase leading upwards. It was crowded in the subway, yet it didn’t compare to the hustle and bustle that hurried by on the streets of Galactic City.

Humans, Rodians, Twi’leks, and species that you could swear you’ve never encountered before shouldered past you, as if you didn’t even exist. One long blink and an exasperated sigh later, you began to move your feet in the direction of QuanCom. The directions on your phone were confusing. The arrow rotating every once in a while was unable to read your location. Regardless, you continued hoping it was the correct way. The sudden smell of caf penetrated your nostrils, causing you to scrunch up your nose.

“If they sell caf, they probably have some deychin tea and maybe some food…” you trailed off hurriedly toward the small shop named “Caf Project ''.

Inside, it was cozy, brick-lined walls with a large sign hanging over the counter. Swallowing thickly, you stood back just far enough to show you were thinking of what you wanted, but really you were trying to stifle the anxiety welling back up as your mind kept going blank. A jingling sound interrupted your inner battles, and so did the voice of who was walking in.

“I don’t care. I told you to get this done yesterday. Not an hour before I arrived at the office. Is it really that hard to follow through? Do you not realize the utmost significance of this report? I swear I’m dealing with a bunch of imbeciles. Sith give me strength…'' Sucking in a breath, he glanced at you, brow raised. “Shut up for a second, Tannis.” He demanded before turning to you. “Are you in line?”

Your face went completely blank, just a second ago it sounded like he was about to murder whoever he was speaking to. But while speaking to you…his voice was smooth like silk, endearing actually. Swiftly shaking your head “no,” he stepped forward and flashed a warm grin at you, incisors slightly visible. Once again he continued yelling at someone, the barista not even batting an eye. His order was briskly made, though he didn’t even give any notion to what he had wanted. You couldn’t help but examine this stranger before you, attired in a charcoal grey suit that was paired with a very light grey dress shirt with two buttons undone. On his feet were freshly polished black Oxfords, his outfit so simple yet so suave. Once he handed the cashier some credits, you noticed a glimmer on his wrist, by the looks of it one kriffing expensive watch.

Adjusting the lanyard around your neck that holds your ID for QuanCom, the stranger with geometric tattoos all over his face turned to face you. You noticed a shiny stud piercing on the upper cartilage of his left ear. Maintaining some eye contact, you couldn’t help but feel a knot in your stomach. He was quite handsome, and his ivory horns…wow, you thought to yourself, cheeks running hot. “Get yourself together...you’re with someone,” You reminded yourself.

Lips parting, he studied you up and down.

“Good luck.” The words were quietly mumbled as he continued listening to what you assumed to be an employee, on the other line.

“Thank you,” you mouthed back, a sheepish smile tugging at your lips as you continue to fidget with the lanyard.

Maybe, he had heard of the big job offer at QuanCom? Advertisements were flaunted everywhere; it was hard to miss them. Shaking your head lightly, you step forward, showing that you’re ready to order.

“I’ll have a small deychin tea please and…uh- um..a croissant?” Everything on the menu food-wise wasn’t too appealing, but you needed something in your stomach to satisfy the beast. “Uh..how much, sir?” you inquired, pulling some credits from your spotless white jacket.

Shaking his head, the cashier's lips opened to a wide grin, “No need, miss, the man before you covered your order. You’re all set!”

There was that wave of nausea again. Why would he do that? Who even was he? Was it just his generosity for the day? Or did he think you couldn’t afford much based on your attire? Sighing, you frantically think about what you’ll be expecting for this job, continuing on your path toward the QuanCom headquarters. Getting closer to your destination, you glance over your phone, once more checking the time. 7:50 am. Finally, what felt like forever was finally here, and you were so eager to start on a positive foot.

Entering the monstrous building, people were hustling all around you-- confused, lost, and eager to get their days going, as well. You had to remind yourself that you were here as competition and not as a friend for anyone. Though right now, you could really use a friend and some directions as this place was large and filled to the brim. Inspecting the environment, you noticed a few flimsies posted. Maker’s sake, it made things easier by telling you where to go. Padding toward the nearest elevator, you crammed yourself in amongst the other bodies seemingly all going to the same exact floor. Not being able to help it, you held your breath midway until the doors opened on floor 18. Exiting, you followed the tall, skinny woman down the hall to meeting room 1804. To your amazement, it was already quite full, so you took a seat nearest to the door, pulling out some flimsy and a stylus so that you’re ready to jot down any information. The room was white-walled with very little decor besides a large glass table in the center. This is where the fun begins, the long drawn out rules and regulations.

“Alright! Now that we’ve gone over the workplace protocol and the prototype expectations, I will pair you up into four groups of five.” Her voice was raspy, though flat enough to make your eyelids heavy. Everyone around you was also struggling to fight the sleep that tried overpowering them. Names being called brought you back to attention every now and then, but you couldn’t stop thinking about him. “I’m sure Kenth sees more attractive women daily anyway…” you try to convince yourself.

“(Y/N), Fox, Steela, Hardcase, and…Finn. You five will make up group three.” The grouping continued slowly, but the names rang in your mind over and over. “Alright, now that groups are established, get to know one another and start some planning. Each member in your group has a very different degree path; this will help you all utilize one another's skills to create the best results for QuanCom. You have three weeks until you pitch your prototypes to Dooku, the COO.. Remember, 5 pm concludes your workday, so get to it.”

Sitting around your new coworkers, you fumbled around with your stylus, afraid to make the first move for introductions. It seems that you weren’t the only one being fidgety;  the gentleman named Hardcase was bouncing his leg vigorously. If you were correct, he and Fox were clones. After the bill was granted clones rights and citizenship, they ended up all over the system. So many felt that cloning was unethical, especially for the fact they were treated similarly to droids. Though it was nice to see the two making something of themselves.

“Guess I’ll start! The name’s Hardcase. Yes I’m a clone, and--yes--I’m perfectly capable of thinking for myself. I’m great with my hands and can assemble anything together. For a short while, I was working as a mechanical engineer for the GAR.” The clone oozed with excitement and enthusiasm, which was quite entertaining. Clad in a pink-hued dress shirt and a blue suit, which matched his facial tattoos. On his feet were freshly polished loafers still tapping the ground.

“Well, I’m Fox. My skills are geared toward CAD and any type of 3D rendering. Once I devote myself to something, I see it through. You can trust me on this project; I assure you that,” he barely showed any type of emotions compared to his counterpart. His attire was dark-- suit, shoes, everything. It said a lot about him and which made you anxious.

“Well, I’m Steela! Researching is my speciality. Problem-solving is also a breeze. I’ll be able to find the answers in order to help us advance to a whole other level! I enjoy leading projects like this, since I know I can keep us on track one hundred percent!” The excitement radiating from her was encouraging. She seemed like a strong woman ready to lead this team to success. She wore brown high waisted dress pants with a matching blazer, and white blouse. On her feet were suede, caramel heel booties.

“I’ll go next…” the young Twi’lek’s voice was soft and elegant, soothing to everyone in the group. Just as she was about to speak the double-doors swung open.

“Asajj, we have a problem,” her voice hushed but full of urgency as she glanced around the room. “Tannis was fired. We need to fill her position. Now!”

“Gods, I knew this was going to happen. I told her she wasn’t ready for this position. Now he’s going to take it out on me,” Asajj let out a long sigh, arms folding across her body. The woman that just emerged looked similar to her, though her face was more relaxed.

“(Y/N), can you come over here for a second please?”

Everyone in the room glanced up at you before continuing their tasks.. Rising from your chair, you crossed the room sliding past everyone with ease. Asajj acted like she was presenting the finest delicacy in the galaxy; arms held out at you.

“I think she’ll do. A tad on the quiet side, but I’m sure Mr. Crimson can work with it,” Her response was more of a question, as both women had their eyes upon you.

“It’s not like we have much of a choice. You cannot run this and take on two secretary positions. You’re going to need the help,” The woman’s pale grey eyes burned into you.  

“Fine. Take her to Mr. Crimson. You better hope he approves,” Asajj warned, giving you one last glance.

Quickly grabbing your belongings, the conversation you just had replays in your mind.

“Tannis,”

Why did that name sound so familiar? Who’s Mr. Crimson and why did you have to go see him.  Your mind whirled around, anxiety eating away as you set foot in the elevator. It felt like a full rotation cycle before reaching floor twenty. Being led out you walked down a hallway that was decorated lavishly. The flooring was a beautiful dark marble. Each step you took echoed off the walls. Nearing the end of the hall, both of you walked through another set of tall glass double doors. Entering the spacious room, you can’t help but notice the viewport walls. Also catching your attention were two long black desks. They were set across from one another stacked with datapads and pieces of flimsy. Towards the middle was a closed black door that had a frosted glass panel. Without a doubt this room was breathtaking and even though it lacked decor compared to the hallway, the view of Galactic City made up for it. Light knuckles hit against the panel three times, waiting for a response.

“What is it now?” The aggressive tone was enough to send a chill down your spine.

Slowly opening the door to peek her head in. A few words were exchanged before she fully opened the door, motioning for you to follow right behind. Inside was a long glass desk, the legs were black; matching some of the furnishings or complimenting them. In front were two rounded leather chairs, the area rug underneath a bright white. Paintings and picture frames hung on the right side of the room, though you were too afraid to really gawk at them as a gruff voice began erupting again. There he sat, his black leather chair facing the viewports behind his desk seeming to be amidst another phone call.  Something about his voice was all too familiar but the fear bubbling inside you made it difficult to pinpoint. Soon enough he swung his chair around slamming the phone down, right hand pinching the bridge of his nose.

“What was so important that you had to interrupt yet another phone call, Leys. If it’s not about numbers, you know, the job I pay you to do? Then leave. I’ll fire you too. I’ve had it with everyone’s complacent behavior. Any fool could be my financial officer, so if you as so step out of line again, you’re done,” The snarl erupting from this man was horrifying, bringing you back to the Caf shop.

It was him! The same eerie tone used then too, and yet he was able to turn it off so quickly when addressing you. Your hands began to clam up, eyes not even daring to meet his.

“Yes sir, I understand I’m very sorry. I just wanted to bring you Tannis’ replacement,” voice quivering, Leys bowed her head and hurriedly left Mr. Crimson’s office leaving you behind, alone and defenseless.

A satisfied chuckle was released from Mr. Crimson as he watched his employee scatter from his office. Brow raised in your direction, his stare intense, a sneer presenting itself. “Well. Take a seat.”

His hand motioned to the smaller round chairs, eyes never leaving you. Pushing his seat back just a smidge, a polished shoe crosses over his left thigh and his hands fold against his stomach. Releasing the breath you were holding in, you padded over to the seat in front of his desk sitting as straight as humanly possible.

“It seems I’m in need of another secretary. But it’s not an easy job-- I need someone reliable, someone organized, and to understand the urgency of when I say to do something, they do it,” Towards the end of the sentence, his voice dropped a little lower, eyes narrowing. “It is a permanent job that is until mistakes are made. Pays reasonably well especially for dealing with...someone like me. Seems Asajj and Leys picked you and they’re typically alright when it comes to the judgment of character.”

Something about the way he spoke to you made your heart skip a beat. Even the way he stared at you had your arms lined with goosebumps. Trying to compile a coherent sentence was no easy feat with his eyes burning into you.

 “I-I, um..” fumbling over your words caused your cheeks to run hot. “Well...first off I wanted to thank you for this morning. You really didn’t have to pay for me...but I greatly appreciate it. As for my work, I am quite organized and pay attention to directions given, but I don’t exactly have the experience in being a secretary, which would probably be important…” trailing off, you broke eye contact with him to glance at a red light blinking on his phone.

He barely acknowledged your thanks, just giving a small nod. A deep hearty laugh left his lips, “Any fool could be a secretary, but you don’t seem like a fool. No, just the way you speak and hold yourself exudes intelligence. Normally a secretary is chosen from within the company, as an outsider could be one that would leak vital information about QuanCom to its competitors. Someone that has worked their way up the ranks, whom I could trust. However, due to obvious circumstances here we are. If you so choose to take this job you will have limited access to certain databases as I need you to earn that trust. Understood?” The sneer plastered itself once more upon his face, incisors visible this time.

“Yes sir, I understand. I’ll make sure I do this right Mr. Crimson!” a little bit of enthusiasm worked its way to you, eyes lighting up like Coruscant itself.

“Please, call me Maul.” he pleaded, followed by a half-smirk.

Rising to his feet, he outstretched a hand that you mirrored. His callused hand engulfing yours in a gentle embrace. Just this morning you were going in ready to compete against nineteen other candidates, and here you are sealing a deal with the CEO of QuanCom to be his second secretary. Breaking the handshake, he opens up his desk drawer pulling out a datapad, handing it to you.

“That will be yours. You’ll need it for all the paperwork and emails. You’re free to take it home, just don’t lose it. Asajj will send you some emails tonight that will need to be completed before you come in tomorrow morning at 6 sharp. Once you do that you’ll be set up in our system and able to begin your duties. You’re dismissed for the day, but you will be paid for a full day. Just a small token of gratitude.”

Taking the datapad in your hands, you gave a curt nod, ensuring you understood the importance that was just given to you. Getting yourself together along with your things, you exchanged a few words expressing how grateful you are for this new position. Heading toward the door, you outstretch a hand to grab the handle. Just as you’re about to open the black door, his voice cuts the silence.

“Oh, one last thing, don’t mention our little encounter this morning to anyone. Some may think... I’m beginning to play favorites.” his voice honeyed paired with a smirk and eyes ogling you, trying to take in one last visual before you leave.

---------

taglist: @maulfrk​ @honestlystop​ @pinkiemme​ @idiotonastar​ @nawpitynopenope @maulieber​ @rishi-moon​ 

[tokoyamisstuff]

Oneshot: Substance - Bucky x Reader

Summary: After stumbling upon certain things on your boyfriends phone, your self-esteem drops below zero.

Warnings: Self-hatred, Angst, Fatshaming, kinda Self-Harm (like withdrawal, not eating enough and overly excessive sport), one or two Swear Words.

Words: ~2900

A/N: Didn’t want to keep you guys waiting any longer, so this has been written in an hour without proof-reading. please have mercy with my soul

“Heya, sweetie-pie. Mind giving me the usual?”

There he was, 12 o’clock as usual. Bucky was leaning over the counter and staring at you with his piercing blue eyes.

He gave you a wink as he shoved the money over the counter, looking around the small but full diner. It was always that crowded at this time of the day.

“Come on, you doofus. You know it’s on me” you chuckled as you pressed the coins back in his hand, relishing at his warmth for a brief second before stepping back.

It has become a ritual to prepare his favourite on almost every single day, even though he claimed to love everything on your menu. His therapist once told him that a certain routine would help him adapt to society again, and he stuck to it pretty closely.

And visiting your restaurant was an important part of his day.

“Do you think we can spend the evening?” Your boyfriend was sipping on his coffee, eyes lighting up when you finally got him his piece of plum pie with whipped cream.

When you watched him eating it in almost one bite, you kind of admired him for being able to eat basically anything without gaining weight. But well, on the other hand, training and fighting were his daily bread, so it was no wonder those calories would be burned like it was nothing.

“Gosh, delicious as always” Bucky mumbled and you couldn’t surpress a quiet laugh at your dork while you were serving another customer. “And I mean you in that dress, not the food. Love your style.”

You usually avoided to fuel his stupid way of flirting, no matter how flattered you felt anyway. So you simply changed the topic. “Dunno. Might get late. Today seems to be very profitable.”

It was just wonderful how understanding Bucky was. Well, he knew he was a piece of work as well. Why should he be mad if you were sucessfull anyway?

So he just shrugged with a wide grin as he handed you over the empty plate, saying “Well, then I’ll tidy up the flat until you’re done. Guess who’s gonna get a back rub when they’re back home?”

“Sounds like a Netflix and Cuddle evening?”

“Everything you want, doll.” He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek, knowing you weren’t all that comfortable with PDA - at least at work. “I won’t bother you any longer.”

“You’re never bothering me.” Smirking, you admired the way his muscles bulged through his sleeveless top. “Distracting is a far better word.”

He won’t comment on your statement, rather winking at you and mumbling something like “You just wait until later...” as he already rushed out of the entrance.

Six hours later you were finally able to end your twelve hour shift and close the restaurant almost on time - well...plus the few customers who came about five minutes before closure, and having to clean up the mess you’d always leave behind when cooking as quick as possible.

“I’m home, darlin’!” you cheered as you threw your bag into a corner and got rid of your shoes.

Seems like he was in the shower, at least he yelled something like ‘having something for you when he’s done’.

Well, if the surprise was something cute or nasty - you’d have no problem with either one.

“Hey, babe!” his voice called you out of the bathroom. “Can you look up when we made the reservation for cinema? I made a screenshot from the booking confirmation.”

He’d always ask for that kind of stuff in the weirdest situations. Probably because he knew he’d forget it otherwise.

“Alright.” His smartphone was placed on the nightstand, as usually. It was a miracle that he learned to use it that quickly, but on the other hand he’d always been very invested with new technology.

The two of you had no secrets. And even if: Taking each others cellphones wouldn’t really tell you something you didn’t already know about each other, so it had never been a no-go to use the others phone.

You sat down on the edge of the bed after throwing your sweat-soaked and stained clothes into the basket, wishing Bucky would hurry up so you could clean up and enjoy some hot water.

Scrolling through his picture folder, you hummed a happy little song, already wondring what you’d do on your day off tomorrow.

James is still pretty awkward in todays society, but hell he knew how to treat a woman. And dates were his speciality.

“I can’t fi-” Your words turned into a loud gasp as you saw the preview image of a seemingly naked woman. Shocked, even though you felt bad for prying instead of trusting your partner, you klicked on it to see the whole picture.

It was exactly what you thought it was. That sort of picture drunk elderly men would send each other in Whatsapp Groups.

A beautiful woman, only wearing a thong and presenting it in a - let’s call it ‘seductive’ pose.

And the worst of all was the headline, floating above the models face:

“The Perfect Woman”

This was not the only pic of some sort - you found a dozen of it, videos as well.

Disgusting was the only thing that came to your mind.

Not the woman, though. You were not one to slut-shame anyway.

But a feeling of disgust came up when you layed down the phone and went to the mirror, watching yourself closely. And for the first time, you were not satisfied with what you were seeing.

Sure, you’ve always been kind of chubby. But up until now you’ve never doubtet your beauty.

Curves were always something beautiful to you, even though you had to admit that some days, you were asking yourself why you had to be the only one of your friends who had that hard cellulite and stretch marks.

Maybe if you’d already have kids or were older, you’d be fine with it, but...

On the other hand, your friends would admire the fact that you had bigger breasts and a ‘peach ass’, as they’d call it.

Your mother used to call it ‘atomar boobs’ and ‘birth-enthusiastic hips’, always making you laugh about how self-ironic she was. But on the inside you knew how much she was struggling as well.

There were so many forms of beauty, and you loved every single one of it - including your own. But now..

“Ugly” you told yourself again and again, while trying to find a suitable pose that didn’t make you look like a small, wobbly piece of fat.

Did the opinion of a man really matter more to you than your own? Now you also felt kind of pathetic.

Actually, you were just hurt. Of him not being honest, and obviously searching for something...you didn’t want to say ‘better’, but rather ‘different’ than you.

As former Winter Soldier, he might not be that popular, but his looks sure did the trick anyway. So why not searching for a thin woman if he loves them so much?

Or does he already know them? What if those were not mere pictures, but woman he actually contacted?

The thought alone made you tear up.

You’ve tried. Your whole life you did and he knew that.

It’s a problem you’ve been struggling for your whole youth, after all.

No matter how much sport or diets you tried out, your body just wouldn’t change. Even after you’ve got diagnosed with hypothyreosis, the medication would only do so much as prevent further weight gain.

Things got a lot easier when you were grown up, and the bullies would decrease.

You learned to love yourself, and realized that many people were into exactly your kind of body-type. After finding your own style and way of living, things became so much easier and you could finally be yourself.

“Heya, there” a familiar voice snickered behind your back, “What’s cookin’, good lookin’?”

The only reaction Bucky would gain was a pained groan, yet you didn’t dare to make a scene just yet. You wanted him to take the hints and be honest with you, that was what you had decided.

“Didn’t find the picture. Go look yourself.”

With that said, you’d walk straight past him and towards the bathroom. It took you quite a while to cry to your hearts extend, sobs being deafened by the pattering sounds of the shower.

You wrapped a towel around yourself, but when you saw your reflection again as you put on some lotion, you decided to wear the bathrobe.

No matter how you moved, you felt like some fat would always wiggle or roll up somehow - and Bucky felt your discomfort as soon as you greeted him with a twisted face.

“C’mon here, babydoll. We can talk.” He patted the spot right next to him on the bed, and goddamn it was just too unfair how he was posing there on the mattress, looking like a fucking adonis compared to you.

The very second you stiffly layed down next to him, you felt his hand slip under your bathrobe and squeeze your thigh, making you gasp.

“Maybe I can cheer you up otherwise before we talk...” he breathed into your ear, adding a bittersweet “I missed you.”

“Bucky, please. I’m tired.” Perfect. You managed to get that sentence out without your voice cracking once. Now you just needd to turn around and wrap yourself in your comforter before he’d see the tears in your eyes.

You didn’t want him - or anyone else - to touch you ever again.

“O-okay...” James stuttered, already reaching out his hand to touch your shoulder. But in the end, he retreated it, realizing you needed some time for yourself. “Imma be at the sofa if you need me.”

“Or tell me what the fuck is wrong all of a sudden...” He kept himself from saying that.

The following days were the hardest ones yet to come - for both of you.

It all started with you declining all offers from friends to go swimming or visiting some food-places, slowly but steadily withdrawing you from the happy, active life you’ve built up out of anger and shame.

You had grown quite distant as time passed, at first finding any kind of excuse for intimacy, and afterwards not even bearing any kind of physical contact. Not to speak of simple and carefree talking...

The air had become strained around the two of you, but Bucky was too afraid to ask you what was wrong.

Instead of letting off some steam through work as always, you took a few weeks off. It wasn’t like you needed the money anyway, looking at how successfull your work was.

Your restaurant, even though being more of a small diner, had been on the top of New Yorks most popular ones for years. And you were damn proud of it.

Bucky would always say you’re the only one who cooks just like home, and meanwhile you knew all of his favourite dishes.

An unconscious smile ghosted your lips when you thought back to the day where Bucky would go all Winter Soldier on a dude that made fun of you for being “a wandering cliché: a fat woman running a kitchen”. Ouch.

You didn’t go on vacation those days - there was different work to do.

Actually, you liked sports. For fun, that is. Like going to swim with your friends, or going for a walk. Sometimes visiting the gym, even. To you, it was more part of a healthy lifestyle instead of a competition for appreciation.

But now, things were different. You tried to built up your confidence again through secretly visiting the Avengers training rooms - yet to no avail.

Steve kindly offered you help with any certain training, but you declined. This was something you wanted to achieve yourself.

As if that would change anything about your feeling of betrayal...

“Fuck!” you exclaimed after almost falling off the treadmill, having to use the emergency turn-off. Even though many people assumed it, you weren’t really unfit. But those past days, you’ve just overloaded yourself through excessive training and eating almost nothing.

You kneeled down, desperately trying to catch your breath. Looking down, you saw your bruised knuckles from punching the bag earlier and thinking of that damn beautiful woman on Buckys cellphone.

If only you would have the courage to talk this through with him...but you were afraid of the outcome. Of the truth.

Knowing you were all alone on the floor, you finally gave in to your emotions, huddling to a fetal curl and starting to sob over your deadlocked situation.

“Y/N?”

Dear god no - it was Bucky. What was he doing here? It was not his usual training time!

On the other hand: What else did he have to do in his free-time, now that the other Avengers are on a mission and his girlfriend is avoiding him at all costs?

Actually, he wanted to let off some steam as well. But seeing you like this swung his mood in an instant, and he aided you immediately.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?!” There was genuine compassion in his voice, sorrow even. As if it was his fault.

He was kneeling right next to you, and for the first time in two weeks, you wouldn’t flinch at his touch. “Let me help you...”

“You don’t need to play anymore, James” you whimpered, slapping his hand away. “Just get this over with.”

Now you’ve got him mad. “What the fuck did I do wrong to deserve this, Y/N?!” he screamed and his metal fist would meet the floor, cracking it broken.

“I know damn well I’m far from the perfect boyfriend...” Bucky began to sniffle, still clenching and unclenching his fists. “But I thought you’d love me as I am.”

“You’re one to talk.” Fuck it, now that you seemingly screwed up anyway you could talk freely. “I’ve seen the photos, Bucky. Of the perfect woman. Many of them. Seems like you prefer something not remotely close to me.”

For a while, there was only silence.

Bucky dug his face deep into his palms, as if he wanted to disappear in them - or simply to facepalm in a pretty weird way.

“Doll, is that what all this is about?”

His reaction made you feel kinda strange. “Y-yeah.” Did you overreact?

“You know I don’t possibly know her. Don’t care about her or her body either.” He sat there, cross-legged and with a face as dark as your heart had been those past weeks.

“Then why do you keep a ton of photos of naked models on your phone?!” You jumped onto him, effectively knocking him over and pinning him on the floor. Out of a whim, you wanted to run away, but he trapped you in his hold.

“Gosh, why can’t you talk to me for once?” It almost sounded like he found it funny. “You’re usually one to be upfront about everything.”

A sole tear escaped every eye, but Bucky would catch them with his thumb.

“Sam sent them to me. We have that Whatsapp-Group, and he’s simply that single, horny dude that finds that kind of stuff funny. You know I never delete anything. I have over 5000+ photos on that shit phone.”

You were stunned, looking at him in disbelief. “I’m sorry, doll. I should’ve know you’d stumble across them eventually. But you were always so confident and strong, the thought of it bothering you never crossed my mind.”

“Y-you-” Gosh, what a fucking idiot you were. “You’re not at fault, Buck! I’m so sorry! I feel so stupid right now.”

“And I thought you wanted to leave me...” he murmured, mainly to himself.

“Wha- how could I ever?! You’re the love of my life! Why else do you think your opinion matters this much to me? Look where we are right now!”

“And you know that the beauty-standarts of the 40s are exactly what you look like, right?”

The situation changed so drastically, it left both of you in boisterous laughter.

When you finally catched your breath, holding your thummy at how much you laughed, Bucky would not give you a break - rather cupping your cheeks and pulling your lips onto his.

“Look” he breathed out calmly, his cheek barely brushing yours. “I feel stupid for even saying this, but: My girl doesn’t have to be a model. Beauty is a concept, dear. Everyone pictures something else when they think of it. And I think of you.”

You had already snuggled up onto his chest as he swiftly picked you up, your ear able to sense his heartbeat. Absentmindedly running your hand over his prosthetic one, you realized that you were not the only one who was self-conscious about their appearance.

But just like you never doubted the true beauty of your lover, neither did he.

“Y/N...You’re strong and smart and kind. No one had ever touched my heart the way you did. That’s all that counts.”

_______

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