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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Wheels Up

Characters: Spencer Reid, Reader (Y/N), Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Savannah Hayes, Emily Prentiss, Elle Greenaway, Tara Lewis, Jennifer Jareau, Matt Simmons, Luke Alvez

Summary: JJ goes on maternity leave, Spencer falls in love with her replacement that he's supposed to be mentoring, Emily Prentiss and Elle Greenaway work a case together that brings Simmons and Alvez in for help...

Warnings: Genius!Reader, mutual pining, idiots in love, drinking, star gazing, lots of fluff, mentions of past assault, grooming, drug addiction, spencer's trauma, Abductions, Rape, Murder (typical canon violence)

word count: 9.4K

a/n: this is for @starry-eyed-spence and @simmonsmilf CM fanfiction week, Day One: Favorite Character... only I couldn't pick just one.

To say Spencer fell in love at the least opportune time was a bit of an understatement. Everyone he’s ever come close to admitting his love to has either left him or died. Now he’s stuck with loving someone in secret, keeping it to himself and hoping that one day she’ll love him back.

He fell in love with a co-worker once again… which wasn’t the worst thing, office romances happen and it’s quite frankly all Rossi’s fault that they even had to worry about fraternization policies. The part that makes liking Y/N so difficult is that he’s supposed to be her mentor, he’s 5 years older than her, and if he was to ever make a move she would feel inclined to reciprocate in order to keep her job because that’s the unfortunate truth behind office relationships with significant differences in positions.

And worst of all… she doesn’t like him that way at all. She’s called him the brother she always needed, a best friend, the best mentor ever. She wasn’t interested in him in the slightest.

“And why would she be?” He’s said this to everyone who knew about his crush on her. “I’m old and boring and she’s so cool?”

But he didn’t get it. He didn’t understand that every time she asked him to hang back to help her file something, or when they would buddy up in hotel rooms to discuss cases all night and end up down some star trek rabbit hole instead, every time he talked to her she was falling in love with him right back.

It once again all circles back to Rossi, if it wasn’t for him, Spencer wouldn’t even know her. She wouldn’t have ever been introduced to the unit, he wouldn’t be attached to her at the hip and he probably wouldn’t be as happy as he is with her in his life. Even if she wasn’t his girlfriend.

He’ll never forget the day Rossi asked him to meet her, to help her settle in…

“Spencer, can I talk to you for a minute?” Rossi called him into his office.

He sighed, putting his book down and walking up the stairs to his office. He closed the door behind himself and smiled awkwardly, “what’s up?”

“Sit,” he gestures to the chairs in front of his desk, where Spencer pulls one out and proceeds to sit down, anxiously. “As you know, both Kate and JJ will be out of the field in the next few months to have their babies and we need to bring someone in to fill the void until they return, so I reached out to the academy to see if they have any up and coming Dr. Reid like agents that they could loan us.”

“Why?” Spencer laughs at the choice of words.

“Well, honestly, why get new 2 agents when we could have two Reid’s? JJ will be back after a month or 2, it’s better to have more brains than brawn.”

“So they found someone and you want me to be their chaperone?” Spencer clues in. “Who are they?”

“Y/N Y/L/N, she’s a wonderful agent, but she’s pretty quiet, I don’t know much about her personally.” Rossi prefaces. “She’s a genius, high IQ like yours and just a plethora of knowledge inside that mind of hers. You’ll like her.”

“Alright,” he nods. “When do they start?”

“When JJ’s water breaks, but I’d like you to meet them and maybe even have them shadow you for a day?” Rossi asks, “I’ve actually arranged for you both to get dinner at a friend's restaurant?”

“Is this an arranged date or purely business? Don’t send me in there blind,” he worries. “I need at least a week's prep before I go on a date again.”

“It’s not a date, kid,” Rossi laughs. “She's just a lot like you were when I met you, and I know from watching you all these years that it’s not easy to do it alone, so can you just walk them through it?”

“Of course.”

That first dinner Rossi set up for them was more exquisite than either of them prepared for.

They spent the whole night discussing dissertations and their independent journeys through becoming a genius. He understood perfectly why Rossi and the Academy would think she was a lot like him, she was a genius, but she was awkward. It took a while for her to break out of her shell and open up, but by the end of the night, he already knew they were going to be friends.

“So,” she smirks, “would you mind telling me honestly how hard this job is?”

“Why?”

She sighs, “I’ve heard a lot about Thee Doctor Reid and how you were the youngest hired to the BAU and all the shit you’ve been through.”

“What are the rumours these days?” He awkwardly smiles back, rolling his eyes slightly.

“That you were brain dead in a cemetery from an overdose and yet you’re so smart you came back from the dead to kill the unsub and escape…” she looks more and more disappointed in the rumour as she tells it.

His tongue hits the roof of his mouth as he opens it to speak, making a tsk noise as he shakes his head. “Well, I did OD but it was the unsubs main personality that resuscitated me.”

“Holy shit,” she whispers.

He nods, “what about you? I’m sure you have a reputation based on a rumour?”

She presses her lips together the way he always did, just as awkward. She sighs, huffing the air out of her nose and looking fed up. “I was groomed and assaulted by an older boy who then told kids I had a stalkerish crush on him so if I was to ever tell anyone what happened, then no one would believe me.”

“I’m so sorry,” Spencer knows the words don’t make up for what happened. “I’m guessing that’s why you wanted to get into profiling?”

She nods, “I got away with some PTSD and trust issues, most girls go through much worse… they deserve someone who gets it to look into their cases.”

Spencer nods. “That’s how I felt after my kidnapping too. It took a while for me to look at crime scene photos and not think about how they felt, and wonder why I lived when so many die?”

“I’ve never been a religious person,” she prefaces. “But I do believe we are here for a reason. Whether you choseto be here after your last life or this is some learning opportunity, or God is actually real? And you’re supposed to do good.”

“In narcotics anonymous, they reference god a lot, it’s helpful for the addicts, but I never get into it,” he opens up with her more than he’s ever opened up with any friend. “If my Devine purpose is to suffer in order to relate to those I’m supposed to help that’s a load of bullshit… honestly, I can get pretty angry thinking about why I’ve gone through what I’ve gone through doing this job, but it’s not as bad as what happened to me growing up, and it leads me to believe that I probably wouldn’t have had an easy time no matter how I live.”

She nods, “I know, I get that.”

“Sorry,” he snaps out of it. “I didn’t mean to trauma dump on you.”

“It’s exactly what I asked for actually,” she reminds him with a soft smile. “If you can still come to work every day, after all that, you must be incredibly strong— and if I’m anything like you the way people say I am, I guess I can do it too.”

He had no idea she would end up being his best friend.

She shadowed him just once in the office, picked up everything right off the bat and immediately made a name for herself in the unit. Derek tried multiple names on her before one stuck, and they knew it stuck when even Hotch called her Baby Genius.

She brought a different knowledge base to the team, similar to Spencers but visibly younger. She fit in with the crowds of kids they had to interview, she understood why kids reacted the way they did to trauma and abuse, and she was still a kid at heart. It was the reason Spencer fell for her.

She allowed him to feel free again. They went out together outside of work, going to events he always wanted to go to with a partner but never had a chance. She loved all the same things as him, and she takes him to places he’d never imagine enjoying before her.

Like laser tag… that was an afternoon he’ll never forget with her.

When JJ went into labour, that’s when Y/N started full time and Hotch hired Tara Lewis in the same week. The team barely had time to adjust to being undermanned before they were restocked.

Joining Spencer every morning for every case, she waited out front of her apartment for him to pick her up most mornings, sticking to his side throughout the long days and nights until he drove her home again. Even at work, they were partnered up for everything: heading to the M.E. together, bouncing facts back and forth at the precinct, playing good cop bad cop with perverts, and her personal favourite… Making the geoprofile.

And Spencer liked doing that part with her as well. Because it typically meant they were completely alone in a room, spreading out a map and leaning in close to each other as they placed every sticker and marker. Brushing hands, bumping shoulders, longing glances as they made connections… he also just liked to watch her hands move.

She was delicate and careful and precise… and he was falling in love with everything about her as the days went by.

Everyone on the team had noticed. It was really hard not to when they’ve all known Spencer for almost 11 years now. He was so different with her in his life, he was happy and giddy and dressing even better than before. His hair was perfect and he was glued to Y/N’s side. Or she was glued to his.

Even though they were mentally similar, physically they were polar opposites. Y/N wore all black and was a lot more outgoing than they expected. Rossi thought she’d be quiet… But she was constantly talking. To Spencer, to other officers, to witnesses, she never stopped talking and starting conversations, and thank god she did because she’s cracked 4 cases that way.

The biggest surprise the team learned about her happened on a case in Florida, a shooting in a local park in broad daylight with lots of witnesses meant the whole team was on the boardwalk asking questions. She went out to do her thing, talking to the local skaters, asking them if they knew anything but they didn’t want to cooperate.

They were too cool for the feds.

“Can I see your board?” She asks, “if I do some tricks will you answer some questions for me and Doctor Reid?”

“Knock yourself out,” one of the boys laughs as he hands her his board.

She hands Spencer her gun and shoots him a wink before taking off to do a few tricks. The whole team watches in awe then as Y/N showed off. Cruising along the halfpipe effortlessly like she was a professional.

“Okay Tony Hawk,” Morgan teases her, “where did that come from?”

“Skateboarding is easy, it’s just physics,” she shrugs. “I can figure skate too…”

“What do you want to know?” The boy takes his board back. “We always see some sketchy guys around here.”

Morgan pats Y/N on the back with a smile, applauding her ability to get anyone to open up before leaving her to take the statement.

“Agent?” One of the girls pulls her aside just before they are about to leave, “how did you do that kickflip? I’ve been trying to learn and the boys won't help me.”

“Sure thing,” she takes the girl's board and demonstrates a kickflip first.

“So, you see as I start the kickflip I bend my knees?” She shows her another kickflip all while explaining it. “Much like the with an ollie, I’m building pressure so I can apply it to the tail, making the board pop. The one thing that makes this trick different from the ollie is that instead of sliding my foot up, I just flick my toe out to the right of the board, by doing this, the board flips in a 360-degree motion.

She demonstrates again and it’s another flawless kickflip, and a huge smile on her face as Spencer watches her.

“How fast the board spins depends on how much force I put into it when I flick it out. As soon as the board flips in a full 360, your feet should connect and drive the board back to the ground.”

She hands the board back to the girl, “your turn.”

She takes a deep breath and shakes her nerves out before taking off on her board, looping around and carefully bending her knees, she follows every step and it’s a flawless kickflip.

“Flawless!!” Y/N claps. “Those boys better watch out, you’re a natural.”

“Thank you,” she wraps her arms around Y/N and gives her a hug, “it’s taken me so long to be able to do that, you’re so cool.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiles. “Good luck out there.”

She waves as she takes off on her board, leaving Y/N with a smile as she turns to Spencer. “I miss being that age and thinking everything is so cool.”

“You are really cool,” he agrees. Smiling softly as a blush fills his cheeks. “You’re always surprising me. Is there anything you can’t do?”

She laughs, “yeah the one thing I want to do the most.”

“Which is?”

She sighs, “maybe I’ll tell you someday.”

—

He’s sitting beside Penelope and Savannah, watching Derek and Y/N get drinks for what’s left of the group as the night drags on.

“When are you going to tell her?” Savannah asks.

“What?” Spencer pretends he doesn’t know what she’s talking about.

“You have a crush on the new girl…” she pokes his cheek as he blushes and gives it away. “Tell her, what’s the worst that can happen?”

“She could feel forced to say yes because I’m a supervisory special agent and she isn’t and she wants to keep her job so she feels like she needs to,” Spencer worries. “I want her to like me back because she fell for me and I want her to initiate it because then I’ll know it’s not just a power dynamic issue.”

“Have you tried asking her, genius?” Penelope teases. “Because if you asked her then you’d know she has a crush on you and she’s afraid you’ll turn her down because you’re an SSA and she isn’t.”

“When did you hear that?”

Penelope pretends to lock up her lips and throw away the key, making Savannah laugh loud enough to get Derek's attention at the bar. When he and Y/N return, that’s when the questions start.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” Spencer gets up and leaves the booth, walking out towards the smokers' exit at the back of the bar, getting a moment of semi-fresh air to think about what Penelope said.

“Spence?” She calls to him from the door, “are you okay? Can I come out here?”

“Yeah,” he nods. “Sorry, I needed some air, it’s nothing.”

“Do you need a hug? I read it helps the most when people are stressed out,” she plays it off with a shrug.

“So you do have a crush on me?”

“She told you?” Her face lights with fury, “what the fuck, Penelope?”

“She didn’t mean to,” he tries to cover it up. “It was only brought up because I have feelings for you as well.”

Her eyes widen, her brows raise and her mouth slowly opens as she freezes.

“Y/N?”

She blinks a few times and shakes her head, “impossible. There’s no way.”

He laughs, “I’ll take that hug now?”

She lunges for him and wraps her arms around him so tight. Breathing him in, her hands wander his back as she takes in every second if it and he does the same. He can’t believe she’s that close to him, her hair smells nice and she’s so soft in his arms.

It’s quiet outside, they can hear the music behind the door, the people in the ally talking and the crickets in the night. It’s just them outside, holding each other in the smoking section with smiles on their faces, amazed that it’s finally happening.

“Can we keep this between us?” She whispers into his ear. “Just for a bit? I don’t want to go through all the paperwork and have to separate in the field if it doesn’t work out?”

“Wait,” Spencer pulls back. “Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”

She nods, “well yeah isn’t that what happens when two people have a mutual crush? They date?”

“Okay,” he smiles, staring at her lips and then flicking his gaze back to hers with a blush. “I have more than a crush on you, I really, really like you.”

“Prove it,” she teases, “let's go on a real date soon?”

“You know what, let’s get out of here. I have something I want to show you,” he takes her hand and waits for her to nod.

“Take my lead okay? You don’t feel good and you’re going to wait outside while I say goodbye,” she has a plan right away

“After you,” he holds the door open for her and lets her inside first.

—

“I’m taking Spencer home, he’s not doing well,” she’s a much better actress than Spencer expected, patting his back and watching him leave the bar before her like she asked him to do. “He’s really anxious?”

Penelope looks worried, “oh no, I fucked up. I told him you like him.”

She just shrugs, “if he didn’t know that already then I guess he’s not as smart as he pretends to be.”

“See,” Derek looks at Savannah. “I told you everyone else also thinks he’s faking being that smart.”

“Shut up,” she shoves him and turns her attention back to Y/N. “Go make him feel better, he’ll like your company.”

“I’ll see you guys at work on Monday,” she waves them goodbye, surprised they bought it as she rushes her way back outside to Spencer.

He’s already in his car, engine running and waiting for her with a smile. “Come on,” he hurries her inside and is taking off down the road before she even has her seatbelt on yet.

“What’s the rush, Spence? It’s only 1 in the morning I’m sure tones of places are open still?” She teases.

“You’re going to like this, I used to go here all the time when I started with the bureau,” he explains, leaving the main road to take a back root, and eventually they’re driving on gravel.

“If you’re taking me here to murder me this is a dumb way to do it because they all know I left with you,” she teases. “At least when you go to get rid of me, do yourself a favour and dig 6 one-foot holes instead of one 6 foot hole…”

He laughs, “would you really give your murderer tips?”

She nods, “my goal would be to piss him off so much he either lets me go or murders me quickly. I don’t want to go through all the pain.”

“It’s not fun, that’s for sure,” he shrugs it off but she knows it hits too hard.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, reaching her hand out for his to hold by the gear shift. “I think you’re like the strongest guy in the world, you know that, right?”

“Why?” He asks as if that's a preposterous thing to say.

“I think if I got kidnapped and tortured at 24 I wouldn’t still be working in the FBI,” she admits. “I barely made it through the academy, I know this job is intense but I don’t think I could handle being in that situation.”

“If it’s up to me,” Spencer squeezes her hand tighter and brings it to his lips for a kiss. “You’ll never experience anything like that.”

He’s so good at making her feel safe that she almost believes he has the power to do that. He would do anything and everything to move fate for her safety.

He turns down another back road then, around the edge of a lake and towards a clearing. He follows old tire tracks and parks by the dock. “I found this spot one night on a random drive to clear my head.”

“I thought you hated driving?” She quizzes him.

He shrugs, “I like to drive at night when no one else is on the road because then I don’t really have to worry about anyone else. I hate driving because I can’t always anticipate other drivers' movements. If I could read minds, then I’d drive more.”

“Valid,” she nods, “now why is this such a special spot that you needed to show me right away?”

“Well, I have a telescope and it’s been in my trunk for the last 13 years so that every time I come here, I can look up at the moon…”

“You brought me here to look at the moon with you?” She swoons, “that’s so cute.”

“You think?” He looks like his heart is doing the same swelling as hers.

She gets out of the car before she can lean over and kiss him the way she wants to. In his trunk, he does have a telescope, and a blanket, which they set out on the dock and sit upon.

The sound of the lake, the loons in the distance, frogs and crickets and music travelling from somewhere down the lake. The moon was big, the stars were amazing, and this was the closest she has ever seen them. It's amazing, and of course, it was Spencer showing her everything.

He was everything to her.

And it didn’t take long for him to become everything to her either.

Joining the BAU was a dream to many at the academy, but Y/N never thought that she would get the job, overjoyed that she did. They were a family unit; they got the job done, they protected each other, and it was a wonderful environment to be a part of. She obviously liked Spencer the most out of everyone. He took her in, he made her feel comfortable and safe and she opened up more with him than she has with anyone she’s labelled a “best friend” in the past.

She liked everything about him. The way he talked with his hands, how his sweater, vest, shirt and tie always match, his gun looks a little out of place on his belt, like it’s too big for him, but it’s cute. His hair’s been getting longer too, sometimes he wears glasses and sometimes if she’s lucky, he doesn’t shave every day.

She can’t take her eyes off him when he’s busy and won't notice, just to then move her focus away when he stared at her. She only wishes she could see the way he stares at her in awe, because if it’s anything like how she looks at him, he must love her.

She keeps her hand in his, trading the telescope back and forth in turns, her face was close to his every time they switched and she kept getting bolder with each exchange. Letting Spencer look, she kept her face close to his, kissing his cheek softly as soon as he was busy peering up at the moon.

He turned to her with a gasp, “what was that for?”

“You’re cute,” she shrugs. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a while.”

“How long?” He teases, leaning in closer and kissing her nose to make her laugh.

“Since you dropped me off at my house after that first dinner…”

“So this is me,” she nods out the window, “thank you for the ride, I appreciate not having to be in an Uber all by myself.”

“Anytime you need a ride, you can give me a call?” He asks. “Seeing as we’ll be going to the same place anyway.”

She nods with a smile, “I’d love that, do you live close to here?”

“Just up the street,” he nods. “So we could carpool?”

“I can drive some days if you want?” She asks, “I know you mostly take the subway, and I know that because I’ve seen you reading on there before.”

He can’t help but smile, “so you never thought to say hello?”

“No,” she shakes her head, “you looked peaceful, and I’m sure you don’t get many moments like that in your line of work.”

He sighed, knowing she was right. “If it ever gets to be too much for you, please never feel like you have to pretend to be okay? None of us expect you to be stone cold, none of us are either. The job gets to us, just tell me if it gets to be too much?”

She looks from his lips back to his eyes and over again, “thanks, Spencer.”

He does the same to her, “anytime. Should I walk you to your door?”

She shakes her head, “that’s okay you’ve done enough for me tonight.”

“Fair enough,” he laughs. “Have a good night Y/N.”

“You too, Spencer,” she smiles before she exits his car, smiling at him from her porch before he drives away.

“So it’s been mutual this whole time?” He shakes his head at the absurdity. “I’ve been so lonely for so long and then I found you and you make me feel like I don’t need to be alone anymore.”

“You complete me too,” she makes one more comment before connecting their lips.

It’s like the world stops then. It’s silent and serene and everything she thought kissing Spencer Reid would be.

She pulls back with a smirk, “oh no.”

“What?” He worries.

“I’m going to want to kiss you all the time now…”

“Good,” he mumbles the words against her lips before reconnecting them.

—

At work on Monday, it’s very hard for them to look at each other without remembering that they’ve kissed. Spencer’s practically glowing with admiration for her that he gives it all away. He’s overly happy, offering to do things for others, standing way too close to her and bringing her coffee all morning.

“Okay, pretty boy,” Derek takes him by the scruff of the neck and redirects him into his office. “What’s going on with you today, I know you’re not this happy for JJ’s return?”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you get laid or something?”

Spencer laughs, “no, you know I don’t get laid. You actually remind me of that fact quite often.”

“You’re so happy I’m worried you’ve moved to crack,” he says it. “Okay, you were acting weird on Friday, you missed brunch on Sunday and now you’re waaay too happy.”

“I’m not on drugs again,” Spencer assures him. “I’m just letting myself enjoy my time with Y/N, if she falls in love with me in the meantime that would also be nice.”

“Oh, so you’re doing this to get laid,” Derek teases him again. “That’s good, I’m sorry if I triggered you by asking, but I had to make sure you’re okay.”

“No, no,” he places his hands on Derek's shoulders, “thank you for caring.”

“Always—“

“Guys!” They hear Hotch yelling from the bullpen, cutting the tender moment short, saving Spencer from spilling the truth.

Rushing back, he sits beside Y/N at the briefing room table. “We have a bad one,” Emily Prentiss of all people walks in the door, followed by Elle Greenaway.

“We’ll have time to mingle in a minute, right now there is a woman who needs our help,” he announces.

Spencer quickly reads over the case files, recognizing Elles handwritten notes, she was a private investigator now. “With Penelope’s help, I’ve been able to set up alerts in College chatrooms in the area so that I can help to missing and assaulted women right away.”

“She’s alerted when someone reports a missing woman and she has advertisements for people to reach out to her for help,” Penelope explained.

“I’ve been working on these cases for the last 9 years,” Elle announces. “This morning Aasia Desai called me saying her sister Bahni never showed up for lunch and it’s not like her, we know she went clubbing last night and so far Penelope’s tracked her down an ally and then she’s gone.”

“Her parents are British diplomats so Interpol has asked me to join, luckily I was just in Ontario so it was a short trip over,” Emily adds. “JJ will be here in half an hour for her first day back, and we will celebrate when we can, but I see we have some new faces here?”

“Special Agent Y/N Y/L/N,” she waves, still glued to Spencer’s side. “I’ve heard a lot about you both from Doctor Reid.”

“Doctor Tara Lewis,” she stands and shakes Emily’s hand, and then Elles.

“So it says here that the first missing case was in 2006 just after you left the BAU?” Spencer changes the subject before anyone can pry into why he would be telling her about the women who worked there before her.

“I did,” Elle nods. “I was too late for her, by the time her parents realized she was missing and called me in the case was cold. I started this as a way to get ahead of it.”

“How long has she been missing?” Tara asks.

“She was last seen at 1:07 this morning,” Elle confirms. “We have 25 hours, maybe, to beat the odds.”

“Reid,” Hotch cuts in, “I would like you and Elle to go check out the street she was last seen on, find any private cameras or anyone who might have seen something.”

He turns to Y/N who just shrugs in silence; “it’s fine.”

“Tara and Derek, I’d like you to interview Aasia when she and JJ get here, Garcia can you do a deep dive into Bahni’s spending and academic records?”

“Sure thing,” she starts clicking away on her computer immediately.

“And Y/N,” Elle looks at her. “I need you to go over the footage of the man who followed her to the alley and get familiar with his face. We’re using you as the face of the investigation to hopefully draw the unsub out.”

“How would she be able to do that alone?” Spencer gets defensive, a way he used to with JJ when she was the media liaison.

“If she goes on the news and makes Bahni seem like a person while describing the unsub as someone who can help solve the case, it will draw him out,” Emily explains for Hotch, who is glaring at Spencer for second-guessing the plan already.

“And she’s college-age,” Elle adds. “If that’s who he’s been going after all this time he will want to come in and talk IF he can talk to her.”

She places her hand on his leg under the table, “it’s a good plan.”

“It is,” Hotch agrees.

“What do you not have a saying to replace wheels up when they stay in town?” Elle teases him.

“Wheels away?” Emily joins her, “that works?”

“just get to work,” Hotch tries not to smirk at them.

Spencer stands up to leave with Elle, “can I just talk to Spencer before he leaves?” She carefully asks Hotch.

“Make it quick,” he agrees reluctantly and lets her follow him down to his desk.

Spencer rests his hands on the back of his desk chair, holding it tightly in an attempt to calm himself down.

“I’m going to be fine,” she assures him. “I don’t think the guy on the tape took her, we’d see him leave if he did.”

“Unless he lives in the alley,” Spencer combats. “Can you ask Penelope to do a background check on all the cars coming in and out of the campus and that street between midnight at 2 am?”

She nods, placing her hand on his gently. “Good luck out there, okay?”

He nods, “it’s been 2 days they’re going to know by the end of the week.”

She laughs, “so be it.”

He says fuck it right then and there, wrapping her up in a hug and kissing the top of her head as the team watches in the briefing room. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yes you will,” she smacks his side as he lets her go. “If you’re going to make a scene at least give me a real kiss.”

“Hmm,” he teases. “No cause then I’d have to sign some paperwork and I’ve got to go…” he starts to back away.

“Coward,” she teases.

He just shrugs, meeting Elle by the door and heading towards the elevators in silence.

She doesn’t ask, not even when they get to the garage or inside the SUV. They’re driving down the road for maybe 2 minutes when Elle finally brings it up. “So—”

“What do you want to know?”

“It's that easy now? What happened to you?” She teases. “You’re so different from the baby Spence I left.”

“Well you missed my drug problem, my dad being a possible child molester, getting shot in the knee, getting shot in the neck, my girlfriend dying, and now my mom might have Alzheimer's so you know… I had to grow up a bit,” he lays it all out for her to ask any question she wants.

“Why don’t you ever call me? I would have been there for you through anything,” she reminds him.

“I know that,” he reaches over for her hand, “thank you. But I was a big fan of suffering in silence… and now I have Y/N and she makes me feel normal?”

“That’s good, you deserve some fraction of normal in your life and she’s really cute,” Elle smiles back at him before returning her focus to the road. “How old is she?”

“27,” he smiles. “She’s the best.”

“You love her,” Elle notices it.

He presses his lips together to fend off a smile as he nods, “I think I do.”

“Tell her, you deserve to hear that someone loves you back.”

—

She’s anxiously tapping her foot as she waits for the elevator to arrive with the suspect, Rossi standing just behind her. Only 15 minutes after being on the news, the man that was in the security footage contacted them. Making his way over for a voluntary interview.

He looks Y/N up and down with a smile, “I heard you were looking for me.”

“I sure was,” she plays along with it, smiling and making him think she’s interested as well. “I knew you’d get the message, we just need all the help we can get right now.”

“Of course,” he has his ego stroked so well that they can roll with it.

“Would you mind coming with me and Agent Rossi to talk about everything you saw?” She batts her lashes at him, really selling it.

“Sure,” he follows them down the hall.

Rossi opens the door and lets them in first, letting her get him settled and a glass of water. “So you can tell me everything from that night?”

“Sure,” he nods, explaining his taxi job, his run for the night and his alibi.

“So why did you step back into the doorway?” She asks as she sits in front of him. Straight-faced as she catches him off guard.

“Excuse me?”

“You stepped out of the way to let her pass and then followed her, she made no motion to say she wanted your services, so I’m just wondering why you would follow her before she disappeared?”

“Huh,” he suddenly feels played and his personality switches. “I thought this was just a chat?”

“I’m simply asking you questions? If you don’t have answers that makes you suspicious. An innocent person would have given me an answer,” she fights back.

“She’s right, you got very defensive very fast,” Rossi finally speaks up.

He shakes his head with a huff. “I was going to ask if she needed a ride, she looked pretty messed up. And then some guy came over and wrapped his arm around her and they walked off. They seemed to know one another. I thought she was safe in his hands.”

Only his tone doesn’t match the words. He sounds jealous— It’s not like she would have been a large tab, he wasn’t jealous because he lost a customer. No, he’s jealous like someone stepped in and prevented him from snatching an easy victim.

“Fair enough,” she pretends to believe him. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

“I can go now?” He changes right back to confused.

She nods, “I’ll escort you down if you’d like?”

“Thanks,” he stands and follows her to the door where Rossi stops her.

“Are you sure?”

She nods, “I’ll be back up shortly.”

She catches up with him by the elevators, “did you have to drive far to get here?” She makes small talk.

“Not really,” he shakes it off. “I like your necklace.”

She touches her necklace and her face drops, “thanks.”

“Necklaces are my favourite.”

“You don’t wear any?” She notices in the form of a question.

He shakes his head as the elevator opens at the ground level. “I think they’re nice gifts.”

She nods along, pretending that didn’t set off every ret alert and alarm in her mind, “well here you are. Thanks again for all the help.”

“No problem,” he goes to leave, turning to stop and block the doors from closing. “If you want, later tonight I can show you everything I saw at the alley?”

“Yeah, sure,” she agrees with no plan to go.

“8 pm? At Cafe Linda?”

“See you then,” she agrees and he steps back letting the door close and then she loses her cool.

Feverishly smashing the floor 6 button, and begging to make it back up to Hotch to tell him everything. But she also just wants to cry but she holds it in as she makes it to their floor matching past Rossi and right into the briefing room.

“He may not be our unsub but that man is a creep,” she announces. “He not only complimented my necklace but he asked me to come to the alley tonight so he can walk me through what he saw.”

“You’re not going,” Hotch announces.

“I didn’t plan to,” she snaps. “I think we need to look into him because he’s either giving little girls necklaces to keep them quiet or he’s taking necklaces after he kills women.”

“Kathy’s parents said she was in a necklace when she went missing,” Emily adds. “His connection to this case and being at NYU right before she went missing gives us enough probable cause for a search warrant.”

Hotch sighs, “fine. I’ll call a judge, you and Y/N can go and search his place.”

“So shouldn’t we arrest him before he leaves the building?” Morgan asks.

“He’s still in the garage, I’ve let the security know to stop him and arrest him at the gate,” Garcia adds, listening in and planning in advance.

“Thank you,” Hotch smiles at her, “you’re always reading my mind.”

Garcia smiles back at him, “always, sir.”

“Okay, let’s go,” she looks at Emily and waiting for her to turn to leave the room.

“Let’s,” she motions for Y/N to take the lead and follows.

The drive to his house is so weird… she doesn’t quite know how to talk to Emily, knowing only slightly about her and her knowing nothing about Y/N.

“So how long have you and Spencer been dating?” Her first question just gets right to the point.

She laughs awkwardly, “3 days…”

“Oh…”

She hums as she nods along, looking out the window and avoiding Emily’s eye contact. “It’s new, we’re both pretty infatuated with each other but we’re taking it slower than most people because I’m afraid to let my feelings change how I do the job.”

“Makes sense,” Emily replies. Her voice is so sweet, she has an aura of calm that follows her and lets Y/N feel safe. She gets why Spencer said she was his best friend on the team before her.

“The necklace comment… why did it make you so wary of this guy?”

“When I was in middle school a guy gave me a necklace while he was grooming me,” she whispers. Looking out the window and pretending it doesn’t bother her now. “It’s fine, I don’t have it anymore, but I knew this guy had that same vibe.”

Emily put her hand out, letting Y/N interlock their fingers and hold it. “I know I just met you, but you’re family now. I’m here if you’re ever suddenly not fine with it anymore…”

“Thanks,” she smiles. “Let’s get this fucker.”

—

By the time the warrant went through, Spencer and Elle had joined them to search the first suspect's house while Emily left to help the rest of the team with suspect two. Tracking all the license plates in the area like Spencer suggested lead them to a Chinese food delivery driver in the area.

That didn’t stop Y/N from destroying her suspect's house. They tore the house apart, searching every nook and cranny for any answer that would make sense. She was tempted to lift the floorboards up, call in SCSI to run ground-penetrating radar and search the fucking walls if they had to.

But then she found it.

A small metal box in the laundry room contained some tools and when she lifted up the fake bottom, she found 5 necklaces.

“Elle!!” She yelled through the house.

They both came running down the hall to her, “is this Kathy’s necklace?”

“Oh my god,” she whispered with a nod.

“I want to kill this guy,” she mumbles under her breath as she places the necklaces back in the box and closes it up.

“Spencer doesn’t need another girl he has a crush on to murder someone and get kicked out of the bureau,” Elle teases.

“What?” Y/N asks.

“Way to go,” Spencer nudges her.

Y/N stands up with the box and slides it into a large evidence bag before taping it up. “I guess he has a type then.”

“I don’t,” Spencer tries to cover up. “I mean, if I do then it’s people who are nice to me…”

She smiles at him, unable to even pretend to be jealous or mad. “It’s hard to be mean to you when you’re so cute.”

“Ew,” Elle announces her disgust as she leaves the room.

“Let’s get out of here before I end up kissing you in a murderer's laundry room,” Spencer teases, taking her hand and leading her out of the house as the rest of the forensics team takes over the bagging of evidence.

“Guys,” Elle rushes back to them with her phone pressed to her ear. “We have a bigger problem than we thought with Bahni.”

They rush into the SUV, putting the team on the speaker to hear the most unthinkable. “So I did what Y/N suggested and searched every single driver coming in and off-campus and the last street she was seen on,” Penelope explains back. “And I came across a man who was delivering Chinese food under the name Tom Larson… and it’s ironic his name is tom because he has a plethora of peeping offences and general creepiness alongside a metric shit-ton of abuse from his dad and dead mother.”

“Okay?” Elle follows.

“Tom Larson lives near Bahni,” Emily explains, “I was just at his house where I found him and his father had been murdered.”

“So we have not 1 but 3 creeps in this case, and none of them are who took Bahni?” Spencer rubs his eyes. “Please tell me we know who was in Tom’s car last night.”

“That’s where it gets tricky,” Penelope says with the doles tones of keys clicking behind her words. “We were just contacted by the fugitive Taskforce because they believe one of the murderers they’ve been tracking took Bahni… but he has ties to a much larger scale global sex trafficking ring.”

Elle flies through the streets with their lights on, pulling back into headquarters and right up to the security check. “So who is this guy?”

“Once you get back up here, Agent Simmons and Alvez will explain everything,” Hotch confirms. “I’m taking Derek to see Cruze, we need to tell him what’s going on.”

“Sounds good,” Elle hangs up and throws the SUV in park.

Y/N hesitates, staying put and taking a few breaths as Spencer watches. Elle’s left the car and is already on her way to the elevator. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I just have a hug real quick?”

“Yeah,” he wraps his arms around her and holds her close. “Are you okay?”

She nods against him, “yeah it’s just good to have at least 8 hugs a day.”

“Hug me whenever you need to,” he whispers against her hair, kissing the side of her head before she pulls back.

“Kisses are helpful too?”

He smiles, leaning in and pressing his lips to hers, mumbling against them, “how many?”

She hums, “10?”

He pecks her lips 10 times and counts each one, making her giggle, it takes so much effort to hold her smile back to keep kissing him but she feels much better.

“Thank you,” she beams and she can swear Spencer's eyes sparkle as he smiles back.

She pulls him into another hug, “I hate that we have to go catch a killer right now.”

“Come on then, as soon as we get him we can go on another date somewhere?”

She shakes her head, “after this case I think we should take a nap together… I’m exhausted and I don’t want to let you go.”

Spencer shakes his head in amazement, “you really like me?”

“Yeah, maybe I do,” she teases him. “You should get used to it because it’s only going to get more intense and I will smother you with love.”

He just shrugs, “it’s about time—“

They’re startled with a knock on the window, “we get it you’re in love, can we go now?”

“Sorry!” Y/N calls back with a giggle, pulling him in for one last kiss before getting out. Spencer follows with a deep blush that everyone will see when they get back upstairs, but it looks cute on him.

Luke Alvez has been trying to catch one criminal for the last 2 years. Simon Garrett has been a pain in the ass for the FBI, the CIA and DEA. He first showed up on their radar when his DNA was found on 14 women’s remains, all of who had been missing for at least 5 years.

His DNA was then traced to his son in the foster system, who’s been off the radar for the last 10 years. Everette Garrett.

“Now he’s interesting because I’ve been investigating his sex trafficking ring between Canada and the United States,” Matt adds. “All 14 women his father's DNA was found on were thought to be in his ring, which means when they get too old he hands them to his father to take care of.”

Y/N shakes her head as she listens, “so if you’ve been looking for them for this long what makes you think we can find them in time to save Bahni?”

“We’ve been tracking him for a while, we knew that he had a new girl on his radar and when we heard it was Bahni Desai we knew it was time to get you guys,” Matt explains.

“So far we know that she has to be taken to this warehouse in Alexandria before she goes any further, we’re going to intercept them before they make it to the warehouse and then use their car to gain access to take the whole thing down,” Luke rolls out a map of the facility then.

“We need to have the place surrounded for any runners, SWAT is getting prepped, we’re going tonight at 3 am,” Matt adds. “Morgan, Hotch, Prentiss, Alvez and Myself will be running a team at each of the 5 exits. Once inside, each team's swat unit will deploy gas to carefully knock everyone out, from there we need someone to cuff everyone at least until we know who is a victim and who is working there.”

“We’re taking everyone alive?” Spencer makes sure he hears them right.

“We need to know what the step after this warehouse is if we want to rescue more victims,” Luke’s voice is gentle yet stern as he explains. “I’ve seen this man take too many women from good homes and ruin their lives, I’m not letting him slip out of my fingers.”

“We’ve had this planned for months, we just needed to wait for the next confirmed drop-off.”

“Who’s driving?” Y/N asks, having a feeling it was her and Spencer.

“He’s Reids age,” Hotch announces from the door as he walks in with Cruze, “so we’ll replace Everette with Reid and Bahni with Y/L/N.”

“Rossi and Elle will be there to apprehend Everette, we’re setting up a fake traffic spot to irritate him and inhibit him from running. You two will be in a duplicate car arriving at the warehouse at the arranged time,” Emily confirms. “We just have to prep SWAT and then we can leave.”

“Alright, let’s get ready.”

—

Pretending to be kidnapped in the back of a car driven by her boyfriend was possibly the weirdest way to spend a Tuesday morning. Driving the exact make and model as their unsub, her heartbeat was loud enough to cover the sound of the engine and distract her from the long drive. She was overly anxious, and rightly so, it was her first sting.

And she was doing it all without coffee. Tired but full of adrenaline, she wanted to close her eyes and drift off but she knew she needed to be ready to apprehend the men at the gate with Spencer.

She feels the large bump, indicating they just went over a speed bump and she knows what that means. The car slows and she can hear the muffled talking before swat steps in, soon enough Spencer is cracking the trunk open and reaching in for her.

“Are you okay?” He helps her to her feet and makes sure her bulletproof vest is on right before handing her, her gun and watching her clip it on.

“Yeah, what happened?”

“The guards are down, Swat moved in as soon as we arrived, now we have to stand here and wait for them to clear the building,” Spencer explains as they walk to the front of her car.

She draws her gun and keeps it pointed low, guarded as they watch the front entrance for anyone to escape. “Do you know if Bahni is okay?” She whispers towards him.

He nods, “they radioed in that they got her, she’s being airlifted to the hospital with JJ right now.”

She nods with a deep breath, “okay good.”

“It’s going to be fine, we have enough SWAT here to take the government,” he tries to joke, getting a laugh from one of the officers… very strange to see someone laugh while holding an assault rifle.

One of the swat side steps towards Spencer, “I’m hearing on the line that they’ve cleared every room. They’re cuffing everyone, you’re free to enter.”

“Thanks,” Spencer replies.

The high-pitched screech rubber gripping asphalt in an attempt to stop draws their attention backwards. Elle and Rossi jumping out with their guns drawn, ready to join even though the exciting part is long over.

“No runners?” Elle asks, holstering her weapon. “Aw man, I was excited.”

“Not a one,” Y/N adds, watching the front entrance for the rest of the team to start funnelling out with the unsubs.

Luke exits first with a big smile on his face, Simon Garrett cuffed and barely stumbling out the door in front of him. He finally got him.

“well done,” Elle congratulates him. “Let me help you get him in SWAT van.”

“I think she has a thing for Luke,” Rossi leans into Y/N to gossip. “she wouldn’t stop asking about him on the drive…”

“Ooo,” Y/N teases, getting more and more tired as her adrenaline drops. Her eyes are heavy and Rossi can tell.

“Why don’t I bring you and the good doctor home, I don’t think they need all of us for the wrap-up,” Rossi pats her back. “You’ve had a long night, kid.”

“Thank you,” she smiles, holstering her gun and turning with him towards the SUV. “I’m so exhausted.”

“Well you’ve been on the job for almost 24 hours now, you’ve officially made it through your first overnight sting op,” Rossi congratulates her like he’s her grandpa.

She turns back when she doesn’t hear Spencer following her, “Spence? Are you coming?”

“Um,” he has something to ask as he follows then but he doesn’t say it. “Yeah, sorry.”

“It’s okay, come sit with me in the back?” She asks, sliding in beside him and resting her head on his shoulder as soon as their seatbelts are on.

“Did you still want to have a nap together?” He whispers, feeling her nod against his shoulder before she pulls back.

“Come here,” she tugs him in against her chest, snuggling in as best as she could in their sitting position. Holding him close and feeling him drift off in her arms. She has no problem following suit.

When she wakes, Rossi is parked outside of her apartment, “here you go, Y/N.”

She hums as she comes to, shaking Spencer awake too, “Spence, come on, let’s get to bed.”

“He’s going with you?”

She nods, “don’t tell Penelope. She’ll have a field day, I just want a nap.”

“You better get more than a nap,” Rossi orders. “You guys need to actually rest before you come back to work on Wednesday.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she teases him. “We will.”

“Bye Dave,” Spencer whispers as he gets out of the car. “Thank you for the ride.”

“Anytime kid,” Rossi waves them off, waiting for them to enter the building before driving away.

“Finally,” she sighs, dragging Spencer down the hall and towards her apartment. “I’m so fucking tired.”

“me too,” he barely says.

He follows her inside like a lost puppy, taking off his vest and shirt, slipping out of his pants until he’s in an undershirt, boxers and his mismatched socks. She’s amazed by how comfortable he is with her, but she has known him for 3 months, it’s enough time to fall in love with someone… right?

She’s loved him since she started working with him. When she realized he valued her opinions, he looked at her as a person and he genuinely loved her company. She felt a real connection with him, not just childish infatuation. He was everything to her.

She slides into bed beside him and snuggles in, wrapping an arm around his middle and resting her head on his chest.

“I guess I really can do everything,” she smirks.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

She pokes his chest and giggles away the awkwardness, “the thing I wanted to do most, the thing that I couldn’t do… that was to fall in love with you, but I did it anyway.”

“Well, then I guess I can do everything too.”

She pulls away to look at him, “I love you, Spencer. I don’t know if it’s too soon, but I’ve loved you for a while.”

He pulls her in for a kiss, shocking her as he breathes her in and holds her there. “I love you, more Y/N.”

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#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

544 notes · View notes

17tetsuro · 4 years

Note

could u do fake dating headcanons where they slowly fall for u w atsumu, kenma & oikawa,, gn pronounces are fine :)

haikyuu boys slowly falling for you (fake dating edition) (gn!reader)

feat: atsumu, kenma, oikawa

warnings: fake dating, abuse of cliche tropes and commas and question marks, timeskip setting because im anything but creative, swearing

requests are open!

a/n: thank you for requesting this!! i hope you like it :D

atsumu

* you’ve been friends with him ever since high school and you watched his career grow

* youre both equally proud of each other n your friendship is built on mutual respect, trust and love

* you basically live in his apartment, with how much time you spend over there

* he would complain 24/7 about not having anyone to go to events with

* at one point you wanted to strangle him for never shutting up about it so you propose you go with him from time to time

* atsumu: “yeah, that was a setup”

* he KNOWS you’re drop dead gorgeous and everyone will be jealous of him that you’re with him (and you also look very good in formalwear, which he very much enjoys)

* and you get to have free food and drinks and also wear immaculate expensive clothes

* so,, you became his regular date for sponsorship events and stuff

* and you never really outright said you were just friends?? so you’re used to the media portraying you two as lovers but your close circle is aware that your relationship is platonic

* everything was going great until one of his sponsor company’s heir started hitting on you

* atsumu saw you flirting with the person and his mind went blank

* he,, he didn’t understand why he wanted to commit multiple crimes on the spot

* bokuto conveniently showed up next to atsumu at that moment

“hey, atsumu? why is your date flirting with them?” bokuto asked, suddenly appearing next to atsumu, which startled the latter out of his thoughts.

a better question would be why atsumu saw red at the thought of you getting friendly with anyone but him that night. he tried his best to keep his composure, but it was hard when you rested a hand on the heir’s shoulder, leaning your head back while laughing.

“atsumu, are you not going to answer me? your lover is-“

“my what?” atsumu asked, attention now completely off you.

“your lover? is that a term you don’t like? i could say partner... significant other... or anything you want, really,” bokuto answered, apologizing.

“you- you think me and (y/n) are together?”

“aren’t you? what, with the way you look at each other i was convinced you two were like... high school sweethearts or something, who hate pda,” bokuto explained, while atsumu’s eyes trailed back to you.

“you think... you think they’d wan’ me?”

“are you blind, buddy?”

you must have sensed their gazes, because as soon as those words left bokuto’s mouth, your eyes snapped towards atsumu and bokuto. the latter started waving with a cheerful smile while the former just stood, entranced by you and your presence. atsumu noticed traces of confusion appearing on your face, and watched as you excused yourself from the conversation you were previously interested in.

“‘tsumu, are you alright?” you questioned, approaching the pair. bokuto grinned and left, which made you even more confused.

“yeah, i’m fi- fine. hey, uh, (y/n), say... do you- why did you offer to come to these events as my date?” atsumu asked, eyes dead set on yours. you cracked a confused smile. you seemed to be capable of nothing but confusion at the moment.

“because you’re my best friend and i hated to see you so down because of your loneliness at these gatherings,” you replied, holding his gaze. “why didn’t you oppose it?”

his eyes studied you and when he saw nothing but sincerity, he let out a loud sigh. this was all very new and confusing to him. it’s like bokuto calling you atsumu’s lover set off a bomb inside his head that instead of causing a mess, made everything fall into place; why his gaze seemed to linger on you more often than before, why he was so eager to choose your outfits for these events, why he went to parties he didn’t even have to attend, why he got so jealous and angry when he saw you with the cute heir.

“holy shit,” he breathed and ran his hands through his hair, letting out a nervous chuckle and lowering his gaze to the ground. “holy shit.”

“you look like you’ve been enlightened, and i love that for you, but ‘tsumu, i’m still very confused.”

“i’m in love with you,” he said in disbelief, and quickly snapped his eyes back to your face when he realized he said it out loud. “i- i mean- i’m not in love with you, no way in hell, you’re- you’re my best friend, you- you smack my head whenever i say somethin’ inappropriate, you keep me from underminin’ myself, you always lift my spirits and for fuck’s sake, please, stop lookin’ at me like that because i will be getting hopeful and if you’re just joking, i will never hear the end of it and-“

you finally hd enough of his rambling and cut him off with a kiss. at first he froze, but seconds later he melted into your embrace, hands sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer.

when your lips separated, atsumu gasping for air after his word vomit and the long kiss you shared, you spoke up. “miya atsumu, you’re a real dumbass, you know that?”

his breath hitched and you kept quiet for a second to let him suffer a bit.

“but you’re my dumbass. i love you, you absolute piece of work.”

atsumu honest to god giggled and leaned in for another kiss, which you gave him without hesitation.

somewhere in the room, bokuto was collecting the money sakusa promised to give him if he got you two to kiss.

kenma

* kenma and you are both twitch streamers with similar content so you knew of each other but weren’t properly introduced

* until one of your mutual friends invited you both to stream among us with them

* you obv accepted

* so during the 3 hr stream, you and kenma were imposters together a lot and had the biggest, most twisted imp plays

* a friendly competition broke out at one point, too, trying to see who exposed the most impostors between the two of you

* your fans ate your dynamic up

* from then on, you two interacted more and started to appear in each others’ streams

* kenma even invited you to his minecraft smp

* you became besties basically

* SO

* all fun and games

* and then a huge sponsorship opportunity rolled in

* and the people at the company assumed you were dating

* uh oh

* you couldnt just tell them they have it wrong bc the whole thing depended on your relationship

* so

* big brain kenma suggest you two start to “date”

* you were against deceiving your followers but kenma assured you you could have a public breakup and tell everyone you were better off as friends

* so you reluctantly agreed

* it was only for two months anyways, what could go wrong?

* both of you, on week 3, in separate discord calls: uh oh, im in l*ve

* you both tried to cope (read: repress everything) but the realization on both of your parts threw your dynamic off a bit and fans have noticed

* so you had to do something abt it

* so kenma suggested you try your hand at a minecraft challenge together

* it was all fun and games until it wasnt

* you somehow ended up flirting back and forth ????

* chat was goin crazy, even in sub only mode

* both of you: ha ha im in danger

* when the stream ended, you stayed on call, because that was a routine you stuck to no matter what

“so... how are you doing?” you asked kenma, trying to clear the awkwardness from the air.

“good.”

maybe you should have taken kenma’s refusal to talk about anything into account when initiating conversation.

kenma, on the other end of the call was anxiously playing with his fingers, trying to figure out if his chat was right, and you were indeed flirting with him. and him with you. god.

“hey, y/n,” kenma said after a while, “were you flirting with me?”

his bluntness startled you and you had to mute yourself for a few seconds while you collected yourself.

“is there a correct answer?” you asked hesitantly.

“yes.”

“oh... uhm, maybe? it wasn’t intentional. or maybe it was, subconsciously, i don’t know,” you admitted quietly.

“good. it was intentional on my part, i think,” and okay, that was not the reply you expected to hear.

“really?”

“yeah, i- i like you i guess,” he said, sounding more confident by the minute. “do you like me too?”

“i- yeah. i do. i like you, kenma,” you replied, sighing a breath of relief. it felt good to admit it aloud to him.

“do you- would you maybe want to come over?” he asked sheepishly, which made absolutely no sense because he sounded so confident a second ago. “we could play mario kart?”

you let the beaming smile you were holding back take over your face. “i’ll be there in 10, kenma.”

“i’ll be waiting for you.”

oikawa

* on god mans hated your guts

* like,, okay, you were iwa’s close friend but you were so annoyingly honest all the time

* it drove him mad

* what also drove him mad is the fact that you loved to tease him

* no matter what the circumstance, whether he was in japan or in argentina, you always found a way to make him blush

* okay so maybe hate is a strong word, because he kind of thought you were pretty, but in a platonic way

* dumbass

* iwa always give both of you shit for not liking each other

* so you came up with a big brain idea

* you: ”oikawa! we should date!”

* oikawa: “what”

* after you explained the concept of fake dating to him and its benefits (which included a staged dramatic breakup, giving you both a reason to hate each other without iwa complaining)

* he was totally down

* iwa, when he first saw you holding hands: “i knew it”

* SO!! thus began weeks of pretending to be in love with each other for the sake of iwa

* which turned from pretending to not pretending real quick for your liking

* falling in love with oikawa was not a plan of yours

* (falling in love with you wasn’t his, either)

* with iwa’s constant nagging of “i knew it, you both were head over heels for each other from the moment you met”, the time for the breakup came quicker than expected (maybe you both had enough. so what.)

* you agreed to do it in front of iwa so he could see it happen

* you chose a mcdonalds parking lot, because then you could storm off and iwa would follow you to make sure you were ok and oikawa could go home and sleep

* maybe winging it was not the best idea

“babe,” you said with venom, “haven’t i told you a thousand times that i do not want to hear about your exes? seriously, it’s like the only thing you talk about,” you complained, as your fake-boyfriend took a sip from his drink.

“well, babe,” his tone matching yours, “i would shut up about them if took the hint sometimes. maybe i don’t like going to the movies as much as you seem to, it’s boring,” he rolled his eyes, subtly glancing at iwa, who looked very uncomfortable third wheeling your argument. good

“jerk. i don’t even want to go to the movies that much, asshole,” you spat, crushing your empty cup in your hand.

“oh, you want to go to the movies plenty. face it, (y/n), you’re boring. no wonder you didn’t have a boyfriend before me,” he replied and his words, even though you knew were fake, still hit hard and you couldn’t help the tears gathering in your eyes.

“okay, then, thanks for these wonderful past few weeks, so glad you decided to take pity on me.” you tried to keep acting, encouraging yourself with the fact that if oikwa meant what he said, you wouldn’t have to talk to him if iwaizumi finally saw you two break up.

you expected a lot of things, but genuineness in oikawa’s eyes was not one of them.

“(y/n), i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it like that,” oikawa pleaded, clearly forgetting about your mutual goal.

with a mumbled whatever, you started walking home, letting the sunset wash over your face. when you knew you were out of sight, you sat down on a bench and just started crying.

you don’t know how much time passed, but you heard a voice behind you speak up.

“hey (y/n).”

“what the fuck do you want, oikawa? to rub in the fact that my first boyfriend was just faking it so his best friend would get off his back? leave me alone, jerk,” you said, trying to wipe your tears away.

“i- i didn’t mean it like that, please, believe me,” he replied, taking a seat next to you. you scooted away from him. he sighed.

“why would i believe you? why do you want to make up, anyways? this fight was pretty real, no way iwaizumi didn’t believe it,” you sniffed.

“because maybe... maybe i was very happy about the fact that i could be your boyfriend, even if it was fake. maybe i’m in love with you,” he said softly, leaning towards you.

“please, stop playing games. it’s over,” you replied, trying very hard to ignore the raw emotion in his voice as he spoke.

“i really am, (y/n). i wasn’t at first, i admit it, but now i am. i love you, please, believe me,” he begged and you finally made eye contact with him. eyes were mirrors of the soul, after all.

you studied his face for a few minutes, looking for anything that could indicate he was trying to pull a shit prank on you, but you found nothing.

“asshole. maybe i’m in love with you too, what would you do if i said that?” you asked, wiping your nose with your sleeves.

“kiss you.”

“do it, then, i guess. but you’re still not completely forgiven.”

“what do i have to do to earn your forgiveness, (y/n)?” he asked and you sent him a mischievous smile.

“take the blame for this whole fiasco with iwaizumi.” he froze at your words and visibly gulped, but nodded nonetheless.

“okay, i will. can i kiss you now?”

you rolled your eyes. “yeah.”

and he did.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #oikawa x reader #atsumu x reader #kenma x reader

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yandere-ac · 4 years

Note

Thank you for doing Danganronpa! Could you do Taka where his S/O who he kidnapped tries to escape, but as they do it, they start to regret it and go back? Thank you!

Yandere Kiyotaka Ishimaru X Reader

A ghost. That is the most accurate way you could describe Taka after Mondos trial. A pale, lifeless shell of the stern yet upbeat person he was before. He refused to eat, could barely sleep, didn’t talk and he was always staring off in the distance with the same haunted look in his eyes. It wasn’t unexpected for him to be in shock, seeing your best friend die right before your own eyes would mess anybody up. But as his partner, you were very concerned for his health. When everyone first noticed Takas behaviour change, they sent you to try and snap him out if it. You had tried everything, from being gentle, to pleading to even shaking him. But nothing, he didn’t even look at you. He was just staring off, looking like he saw a ghost. Everyone told you to give up, but you refused to leave his side. You continued to stay by him, even if he wasn’t responding. At the end of the breakfast meeting, the breakfast meeting that he used to initiate, you had to pull him with you to explore the new floor. Your futile attempts at getting his attention was almost hard for the others to watch. "Look Taka! There’s a new floor! There’s an art studio! There’s so much to explore!" The desperation in your voice was painful, you kept a smile on your face, trying to be strong for him, but it was obvious that you were suffering. The time that Taka did speak, when you, him and Makoto were in the physics lab, was the thing that almost broke you. Monokuma had tricked him into believing that the air purifier was a time machine. He had made poor Taka believe he could go back and save Chihiro. You wanted to yell at him, scream at the cruel bear. But you didn’t want to get in trouble, if something happened to you, you didn’t know how Taka would react.

Days passed and every so often you would hear a loud and violent growl come from his stomach. His body was screaming, begging him to eat, but for some reason he was refusing. You had tried everything to get him to respond, but nothing was working. And you were starting to get worried that he might be starving himself. You had to get him to eat something, anything. You couldn’t loose him. Not now, not ever.

"Taka? Sweetie? Please, look at me." You asked your boyfriend, cupping his face in your hands and bringing his gaze towards yours. The look in his eyes where haunting, almost empty yet full of such horror. The thought of how he must feel. It made you want to cry, but you couldn’t, you had to stay strong for him. "Takabear? You haven’t eaten in a while, why don’t you let me make some food for you?" He didn’t respond, he only shook his head slightly and grabbed your hands, squeezing them tightly. "...Taka...please, I’m begging you. Why aren’t you eating? I’ll cook you anything you want just- you need to eat!" You said, raising your voice in desperation. You couldn’t stand by and idly watch as your boyfriend was killing himself. All of a sudden you felt yourself being jerked forward. Two arms draping over you and embracing you. And then you heard it. A loud sob escaped Taka as he hugged you. You returned the hug, stroking his back while trying to comfort him. He had bursted. He told you everything, how he was feeling, what was happening, why he wasn’t eating. It turns out he was afraid that if he ate anything, it would’ve contained "Mondo butter" as Monokuma had called it. Once you heard this, it all made sense. You understood why he wasn’t eating. He feared that he would be eating his best friend. So he got to watch you while you made him food, making sure that you never used any butter while cooking. It wasn’t much, just a simple soup, but you didn’t want to overwhelm him. And then you two sat down and ate, him crying and venting to you while in between spoonfuls and you listening while consoling him. He had a lot on his mind and you wanted him to get it all out. You sat there for hours, just talking and feeling together. Every once in a while someone would enter the dining hall, see the scene before them and quickly leave. But you hardly noticed, all of your attention was on Taka. Neither of you realised how long you had been sitting there, so when the nighttime announcement rang through the room both of you were a bit shocked. You quickly made your way out of the dining hall, not wanting to be locked in. And once you got out you walked Taka to his dorm.

"I know it’s tough right now, but you have to keep going. For Chihiro, for Mondo. I’ll be with you the entire time alright? We’ll get through this, I promise." Placing a gentle peck on his lips you let go of his hands, only for him to grab them again. He looked deep in your eyes, his were full of sorrow and worry. Taka wasn’t a big fan of extreme pda. He would usually hold hands, hug and maybe kiss. So what he said next kinda shocked you. "Y/N? Would you stay the night with me?" His voice was quiet and very shaky. He looked to be on the verge of tears as he brought you closer to him. "I-I’d never do anything! I-it’s nothing like that! I just..." Takas volume went up slightly, trying to reassure you so that you didn’t get the wrong idea. You knew what he had meant when he asked you to stay. Taka has been very clear about wanting to wait, so you knew he didn’t mean it like that. A single tear went down the side of his cheek as he continued. "I don’t want to loose you too..." you could actually feel your heart break as he told you this. You brought your palm up to his face, gently wiping away the tear. "It’s okay. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll sleep with you if that will make you feel better." And so, it was decided. Taka opened the door to his room and the two of you went inside.

His room was just as neat and clean as always, you had been in there a couple of times before. When you were hanging out, sometimes it’d be alone and other times Mondo would tag along. But usually, you would just sit and talk. You two had never shared a bed before, Taka would be way too flustered. You both changed into your pyjamas, you borrowing one of Takas spare shirts. You went under the covers next to him. At first you both laid on each side of the bed, but soon you started to scoot closer to each other and soon you were both entangled in each other’s arms. And as your eyes felt heavy, you started to hum. Hum a small tune that made Takas grasp on you loosen a little bit. And as he finally relaxed, you fell asleep.

This was how you two slept for the days. You would usually wake up, thinking you had woken up first only to find that Taka was already awake and was still holding you. If you tried to get up he would pull you down again, asking you to lie down for five more minutes. At first you thought it was a little cute, but it started to get a little inconvenient when he would refuse to let go of you. If you did manage to get him up, he would follow you around all day. Now this wasn’t a problem, you were just happy that he was getting better and was starting to respond to you. The problem wasn’t that he was clingy, the problem was just how possessive he was getting. If you ever tried to interact with anyone else, he would always put his arms around you. Even if you were mid conversation with someone. It was a little awkward when he was staring at the other person so intensely. Whenever you tried to talk to him about it he would tell you that he didn’t trust any of them. That he thought they might try to kill you. You knew this was because of Mondo and Chihiro, you felt bad for Taka, you really did. But it didn’t give him the right to treat everyone else like this. The tipping point was when you two were walking around, talking to each other, and Monokuma appeared out of nowhere. You still remembered how Taka grabbed you by the shoulder rather harshly, hastily pulling you to his body. Monokuma could barely say anything before Taka grabbed your arm and ran away with you. Taka had never liked Monokuma, but after the second trial, his dislike had turned into pure hatred. Just like when Makoto found out that Sayaka had died, Taka wanted to blame someone, anyone. Anyone except Mondo. And just like Makoto, he blamed Monokuma. He blamed Monokuma and the mastermind.

And yet, that had not been his worst actions. You remembered it clear as day. You and Taka were sitting in the cafeteria, eating while talking to each other. That’s when you heard a voice call out to you. "Yo Y/N! Taka! What’s happening?" As you turned around you saw Hiro walking into the room. He waved at the two of you and sent you a smile. You smiled back. Hiro and Sakura had been the only ones that had helped you with Taka. They were the only ones that seemed to care about Taka when he went quiet, and you couldn’t be more thankful for it. "Hi Hiro. Me and Taka was just eating lunch. Wanna join us?" Giving you a wide smile, Hiro sat down next to you. "Awesome!” He eyed your food, a plate of pancakes, for a second before looking at you. You let out a slight sigh and a giggle as you knew what he was thinking. Using the back of your hand, you pushed your plate towards the significantly taller male. “Sure, dig in.” Hiros smile widened as he ruffled your hair with one of his hands and used the other to pick up the fork. “Thanks dude! You’re a legend.” He said as he began eating the pancakes. Taka was the next person to speak, clearing his throat after being silent for a while. “Anyhow, Y/N, I was wondering if we could go swimming later. Just to calm down and hang out?” Taka asked you, but before you could answer you were interrupted. “That sound nice, mind if I join?” Hiro asked. Immediately as the questioned left his mouth Taka slowly turned to him, looking him dead in the eyes with a look that you couldn’t quite describe. “...yes. I mind.” The answer was short, straight to the point. But the sound of Takas voice being almost hostile to such a harmless question, it almost frightened you. The air became heavy as the three of you fell silent. You didn’t dare to speak, any and all light nature disappeared as you grew more and more uncomfortable. The tension felt like a thick coat of-

“Butter! That’s what these pancake needs! Something was missing and it was just driving me crazy.” Hiro was the first one to speak up as he stood up from his seat and went into the kitchen. “Honestly Y/N I don’t understand how you can have pancakes without butter.” He commented from the kitchen before coming back out with a package of butter with him. Your eyes widened as he approached. “Hiro wait-“ “don’t worry about it dude. It’s no big deal. You can make your pancakes however you want, I just prefer them this way.” He set down the butter on the table, right in front of Taka, Taka who was now frozen in his seat. Neither of you could move as Hiro stabbed the dairy with a butter knife. Finally Taka had enough as he stood up rather hastily and looked at Hiro with a death glare. “Do you think that you’re funny?” Hiro turned to him, looking utterly confused. “Huh? What’s the matter Taka?” “Hiro just- get out of here. I’ll explain later.” You tried to settle the situation before it got out of control. “What?! Did I do something wrong?! Why are you two acting so weird around but...ter...oh...oh no.” Finally, it seemed like it finally sunk in for Hiro what he had just done. “L-Listen man I’m so sorry, I completely forgot-“ “Forgot?! How could you just forget something like that!? Mondo died! HE DIED RIGHT BEFORE OUR EYES! AND YOU FORGOT?!” Taka shouted as tears started leaking from his eyes at the mention of his best friend. “DO YOU FIND MY MISERY HUMOROUS YASUHIRO!? TELL ME! DO YOU ENJOY SEEING ME SUFFER?!” This wasn’t your Taka. This was something much worse. This was a crack in the shell that Taka had been hiding behind all this time, a shell which he put up when he was with everyone else. But now he had cracked, and there was no stopping the raw emotion that was flooding out. But what Taka said next shocked both you and Hiro. “IS THAT WHY YOU’VE BEEN TRYING TO STEAL Y/N AWAY FROM ME!?” This question caught you off guard. “What?! I’ve not been- I would never- they’re not even-“ Hiro had tried to explain himself but then Taka did something that you would never had expected him to do in the next 1000 years. He tackled Hiro to the ground and was about to start punching him, luckily Hiro was able to grab his fists before they made contact with his face. You quickly rushed to his side and tried to pull Taka off of him. “Taka! What are you doing?! He’s not doing anything! Please Taka just look at me!” You managed to pry him off and grab each side of his face, forcing him to look at you. He stayed still, letting out heavy breaths and chocked sobs before collapsing onto you. But as Hiro stood up Taka lifted you off the ground and ran off. He ran off to his room, much to your protests.

Cuddling, that’s what the two of you were doing. Well, it wasn’t really cuddling as much as it was Taka clinging onto your waist and pulling you close. You hadn’t left the room for a couple of hours, and your body was starting to feel stiff. As you shifted in Takas arms his grip only got tighter. "N...no. Don’t leave. Don’t go." He pleaded as he buried his head in your chest. "Taka. I’m hungry, please just let go. Nothings gonna happen to me. I’m not leaving you I just need to eat something." But your pleads fell on deaf ears as Taka just pulled you in closer. You were starting to get sick of this. “Kiyotaka Ishimaru, let go of me now. I have to eat.” You said, a little more sternly this time. Taka didn’t answer. That was when you had enough. You stared to pry him off of you with your arms and soon enough with your knee, all while Takas pleads got louder and louder. “No. No. No no no! Y/N don’t! Don’t! DON’T!” You finally pushed him off of you and as soon as you where free from his grip you bolted out of bed. “NO! Y/N!” He practically threw himself after you but you ran to the door. You probably could have handled this situation better, but you were here now, and you couldn’t turn back. You managed to get to the door and shot out into the hallway. Taka dropped to his knees at the door as he let out a scream of pain. And just as you got to the cafeteria you came to a halt. This didn’t feel right. Not even slightly. Taka was emotionally unstable right now, he had just lost two of his closest friends, and now he thought he lost you. You. The person that promised to help him through this. The person that promised to be there for him. He probably thought you hated him. You couldn’t do this. With a pit in your stomach you ran back to Takas dorm.

Taka was sitting by the door, on his knees crying. But as soon as he heard footsteps approaching he looked up. Through his blurry vision he could still make out the person before him. It was no doubt in his mind who it was. “Y/N!” He scampered to your tense form as he wrapped his arms over and around you. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Im sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He kept apologising to you as he shook and quivered. You let out a small sigh as you returned his embrace. “It’s okay. Can we please just go eat? I promise I won’t talk to anyone if that makes you feel better.” Taka felt his heart warm up as he heard this. You couldn’t see his expression since he was hugging you, but it was a love crazed and happy smile.

“Of course.”

————————

There we go! My man kiyotaka has gotten his own fic! I did change the prompt from Taka kidnapping the reader to just him holding them there with him. Since I don’t think anyone would willingly go back to their kidnapper (unless they got Stockholm syndrome). WELP! Next fic is either gonna be a Monokuma fic or it’s gonna be...something very different. Depends on which one I finish first

#yandere #danganronpa #yandere danganronpa #yandere danganronpa x reader #yandere kiyotaka ishimaru #kiyotaka ishimaru #x reader #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n #tw yandere #cw yandere

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 4 years

Text

Don’t Feed The Flames - Bucky Barnes x (f)reader, Natasha x platonic (f) reader

Summary: Bucky has made you angry after a tough mission with the crew, why you ask? Apparently he thinks it’s totally fine to run inside a burning building to help you complete the mission in question.

Warning: bit of angst, mostly a good time with the team, Bucky fluff shoved in ur welcome

-reader has fire powers btw, I don’t wanna confuse anyone lol

Masterlist

The mission was difficult to say the least, successful in its own right, but tough for everyone involved. All the Avengers were needed for this clusterfuck of a mission, minus Bruce and Thor who are elsewhere in the universe, lucky them.

All the team needed to do was infiltrated one of the last highly armed Hydra bases left in existence, get rid of the artillery and boom, slither right on in. Objective? Snatch valuable intel as to where the other bases are hiding, and surprise surprise, you and Wanda had to take care of some very pissed off experimentees who were unfortunately brainwashed beyond the point of helping them recover.

Ending the night in everyone quickly evacuating the premise with the essentials while you stayed back to blow up the base to nothing more then bricks and ash. Although during this, Bucky stayed back to shoot some freelancers who tried to take you the fuck out, with what would you know it; flame throwers.

Apparently Hydra is greatly lacking in weapons and functioning brain cells, among other things. Granted, you understood Bucky’s concern for your well-being when he ran into the fire. But oh dear lord were you not happy with him one goddamn bit.

Luckily Sam was able to pluck him out before anything fell on your idiot boyfriend while you were producing mass destruction in the giant airplane storage area. In the aftermath, you came out unharmed but covered in smudge marks and burnt off cloves yet again.

Bucky? Well he came away with a pissed off girlfriend and his life to say the least. And let’s just say the long four hour ride back was a tad bit awkward, even if you were too damn exhausted to show your irritation with Bucky. The team sure as hell knew he wasn’t going to be spared of your wrath when the jet landed.

It took approximately ten seconds for your man to shuffle out of your line of sight, using Steve as a shield to hide behind while they walked out. You had been distracted when Natasha asked for something picked up, then suddenly your mind was on Bucky. A moment later you stomped out of the Quinjet in pursuit of the one and only James Buchanan Barnes as he awaited your fury.

“James!” You growl fiercely, “You are the most fucking reckless person I’ve ever fucking met and I’m literally friends with Tony!” You snap while the rest of your teammates go about their business, trying to listen yet smartly staying out of everything.

“I know.” Mutters Bucky like a kicked puppy suffering his mother’s wrath, blue eyes looking at you with regret clearly visible on his handsome face.

“You know! You know!? Then why the fuck would you just run into the flames like that!” You shout while throwing your arms into the air in frustration, “You’re not fire proof Bucky!”

“Y/N...”

“Do you have a goddamn death wish!?” You interrupt, giving him a dumbfounded look as he glances from Steve to the floor then back to you again, trying to find something or someone with enough pity to help him.

He finds none, “Well....no.” Your brows raise yet again at his short and annoyingly blunt answers to make up for his stupidly daring boldness.

“Then why-ugh, whatever never mind.” You dismiss with a wave of your hand before quickly turning on your heels to walk for the metal doors into the main part of the facility, while the others keep their distance from your heated state.

“Wait Y/N, come back I’m sorry!” Exclaims Bucky desperately while you continue to ignore your reckless man, “You’re right I shouldn’t have....ugh...come on babe....shit...” Mutters Bucky as he watches you leave him in such a heated state.

“Dude just let her cool off, oh uh well....no pun intended.” Jokes Sam with a shrug as Bucky watches you stomp away in frustration, your body almost sizzling with actual flame.

“I didn’t mean to....well...ugh, shit I guess I kind of did.” Admits Bucky with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as you slam the door shut with a loud thud, “Sometimes I forget fire can’t hurt her. I should have just let her handle the burning building herself instead of going inside when she uh, told me not to.”

Steve walks out of the Quinjet with a bag in hand to greet the two, “Y/N seemed a bit...”

“Pissed off.” Adds Sam with a light chuckle as Bucky frowns at the giant glass window.

“Yeah.” Mutters Steve awkwardly as he side eyes Bucky, “Well ugh, see you guys at dinner, I think Wanda and Vision are getting takeout from somewhere.”

“See ya Steve.”

“Bye.”

Sam and Bucky watch as Steve heads for the metal doors, soon he’s gone and the two are the only Avengers left in the giant parking garage of sorts.

“She’s going to hate me for the rest of the day I know it.” Sadly mutters Bucky, already missing your beautiful face no matter what state your in.

“I wouldn’t say it’s hate.”

“She’s going to be very disappointed in me then.”

“Yeah probably.”

Bucky gives him an offended look, “You’re supposed to say something uplifting or positive.”

“Man don’t look at me for relationship advice. This is Y/N we’re talking about, just give her a couple hours she’ll simmer down.” Inquirers Sam with a friendly pat on the back before he starts walking away for the door, as casually and unbothered as ever.

Bucky keeps silent for a moment while his mind swims with what to do next, suddenly he looks up at his retreating friend, “Hey Sam!” Shouts Bucky just as Sam opens up the door, causing him to stop and give his friend a quizzical look.

“What?!”

“Fuck you!”

Sam immediately snorts, “You brought this upon yourself brother!” And with that he shuts the door leaving Bucky alone and full of regret for putting himself in danger today when you specifically told him you could handle yourself.

Why is caring for someone so hard, wonders Bucky.

——

After taking a greatly needed shower and putting on a fresh new pair of comfortable clothing for the evening, you slipped past your friends rooms and away from where Bucky may be hiding.

Until at last you made it to Natasha’s door without being caught by anyone in the hallway and stopped for a needless conversation. Soon enough you slip into Nat’s room and saunter around for a bit as you wait for her to end her shower.

“Oh shit!” Gasps Natasha as soon as she opens the door and notices you poking around her stuff, “Jesus Y/N how’d you get in here!?”

“I opened the door.”

“I thought I locked it?”

“You did.”

Natasha gives you a puzzled look as you wander over to her nightstand, nonchalantly minding your business while picking up her current novel as she watches you curiously, “So uh, how’s it going?” She asks cautiously, well aware of your irritation with Bucky earlier that day.

Flipping through the pages you answer her honestly, “I’m fine now.”

Natasha nods before turning around to search through her drawers for an outfit, “I figured that much, considering if you were still pissed you’d be throwing fireballs into the cement wall downstairs.” She quips with her usual smirk as you gently close the book and set it back in its rightful place.

“That is.....true.” You agree with a shrug, “I’m just sending a message at this point.”

“Oh really?” Laughs Natasha while slipping on a shirt, “Poor Bucky then.”

“Yeah well he was being an idiot tough guy so....it’s what I’m doing.” You add with a lopsided smug grin, “Serves him right for being reckless with no regard for his physical safety. I love him but at what cost?”

“Someone needs to tell Steve that.” Mutters Natasha as she pulls on some sweatpants.

You chuckle, “What? That someone needs to tell Steve they love him? Not a bad idea.”

“That too.” Points Natasha, “I seriously don’t know how he’s not dead yet.”

Your brows furrow in thought for a moment, “He’s built like a stone sentinel with a will greater then many, he fears nothing.” You deadpan, face stoic and serious.

“Just about.” Laughs Natasha as you begin to cackle right along with her, in the middle of your laughing fit does the door suddenly burst open to reveal...

“Hello ladies.” Chirps Tony with an award winning smile, usual old T-shirt on and hair a bit of a mess though somehow managing to keep his Stark charm.

“I really need to get an automatic lock on that thing.” Mutters Nat to no one in particular.

“What’s up Stark.” You add with an acknowledging tilt of your head, “You here to bother us or tell us something interesting?”

“Everything I say is interesting my dear sparky.” Quips Tony with a brow wiggle.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Right, anyways. Foods here.” Chides Tony as he sets a hand on his hip, “Unless you’re both too cool for movie night. More for us then, I’ll have Vision drop off our half eaten tacos.”

“We have tacos?” You ask with an intrigued raise of your brow, just wanting to confirm and make sure he’s not bluffing, you fucking love taco night.

“Yep.”

“How long have they been here?”

“Wanda and Vis just arrived so you’re the first two I found.” Oh, fuck yeah!

Turning your head to a smirking Natasha you smile back before bolting for the door, “Move Stark!” You snap before shoving him to the side and cackling as you and Natasha book it down the hall with Tony trying to keep up in the background. What can you say, Natasha always makes it a competition and its taco night. Sometimes you gotta play dirty.

Soon you and your assassin best friend who you tripped up before reaching the door finally skid into the Avengers giant lounging area. The room is relatively empty with the exception of Wanda and Vision who are seated at the large metal table near the kitchen where all the various paper bags of tacos are seated. And ripe for the taking.

Smelling absolutely delicious all tucked snug in their wrapping and filled with the most divine ingredients, you could just about die of happiness. With a beaming smile upon your face and the surprised expressions from your two friends you belt out loudly, “Tacos FUCK YEAH!” Before racing for the bags and getting tripped by Natasha.

Whipping your head up to watch her snatch a bag you growl half angrily, “You bitch.” While she happily smiles back down at you, taco in hand.

“What are you doing on the floor? Foods here.” She jokes as you quickly walk over to the counter with all the bags.

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious now give me that.”

After about ten minutes of eating and shooting the breeze with Natasha, Wanda, Vision, and Tony; you’re ears immediately catch the sounds of thundered running down the hallway and other muffled curses from two familiar individuals.

“Fun’s arrived.” Whispers Natasha with a friendly nudge to your arm as it lays on the flat surface of the table while you absentmindedly crumple up a wrapper.

Biting your lip you anticipate the impending commotion, “Fantastic.” And this whole evening could be more enjoyable if your hundred year old boyfriend would have used some common sense.

A second later the door swings open to reveal a panting Sam before Bucky slides in after him, equally as flustered, those two idiots. As they stand there collecting their breaths, Steve casually steps into the room, walking past them and over to the bags of tacos, “Aw sweet, taco night.” He confirms excitedly, hungrily eyeing up a particular bag.

Rolling your eyes, you slouch carelessly into your expensive swivel chair before turning to Wanda who’s seated across from you, “Hey, Red Riding Hood, you’re up.” She turns her attention away from Vision and nods before giving you a sly smirk and using her power to send a balled up piece of taco wrapping straight for your head.

In one calculably swift motion do you incinerate the paper material before its able to reach your face, “Y/N you’re going to set the fire detectors off.” Laughs Tony as he crumbles up a new ball.

“Eh, we could afford a renovation.”

Tony fake scoffs, “Rude.”

“Well Y/N, I thought you did great.” Applauds Wanda with a chuckle as the three other men walk around to the far end where no one is seated, “Alright Tony you next.”

You refrain from making any eye contact with Bucky who steals a few longing glances at your smiling face, instead he follows Sam and Steve to the opposite end and watches as you quickly turn another balled up paper to ash. The sounds of your laughter and the rest of the tables almost enough to drive him insane.

Yet he refrains, Bucky knows he’s essentially in time out, reason for almost getting himself killed today; and you’re not breaking anytime soon, or so he thinks.

Ignoring the three boys hungrily attacking their poor tacos away from the main groups theatrics, Vision suddenly gains your attention, “Well I suppose I should participate with this game or fear feeling left out....uh, what is the objective? Or perhaps the name?”

“They throw wrappers at me and I set them on fire before it hits myself or the ground.” You reply while crumbling up another piece, leaving Vision to process the possible deeper meaning to your brief explanation, though there really isn’t one. It’s just for fun.

“By the way I’ve been able to get her exactly once.” Brags Tony with a shit eating grin, causing you to scoff at that memory.

“Oh fuck all the way off you flicked water into my face and then threw the paper.”

“And it was very much worth it.” He confirms as you roll your eyes at his cheating from last taco night.

The rest of your friends fill the room with snickers and some louder laughter coming from Sam down at the far end, with a raised brow you snap your head in that direction and stand, “Something funny bird boy?” You quip in a half threatening manner.

Sam’s smirk immediately drops from his face as his expression appears nonchalant, “What nooo. That was Steve.” He mutters before taking another bite out of his taco.

“Y/N that was definitely not me.”

“Uh huh.”

“Maybe it was Bucky.” Jokes Sam as you shift your fiery attention over to a fearful Bucky who quickly shakes his head before smacking Sam on the arm.

“No.” You confirm with a knowing smirk, “He doesn’t have a death wish.”

“Well neither do I please have mercy.” Pleads Sam with hands raised in defeat, “I would like to finish my taco.”

You stare down at them for a brief tension filled moment before casually shrugging, “Yeah alright.” Before sitting back down again.

——

Opening up the trash can you quickly shove down three giant paper bags from dinner with a bit of effort considering how full it is. Natasha and Vision are cleaning up in various areas nearby while Sam, Bucky, Natasha, Steve, and Tony sit in the lounging area discussing if it was necessary that Dobby was killed off in the Deathly Hallows. You know, normal things you discuss with your superpowered friends.

Well Bucky is mostly just listening and stealing glances over to you every couple of minutes, really wishing you would just walk over to him and let him show you how sorry he was with the biggest hug he could possibly muster. Probably never letting you go again, though you wouldn’t mind.

Ignoring your own longing to be cuddled up next to Bucky, you instead fight with the damn trash can to fucking shut its dumb lid already. With one hand forcefully shoving down bags, paper plates, and banana peels you start to think if volunteering for clean up was even worth it.

A blue flame suddenly erupts from your palm and makes a big black hole through the paper bags and plates, your eyes go wide in surprise as you immediately retract your hand from the trash and shut the lid just as quickly.

Taking a single step back you let out a breath before turning your head to find Bucky watching your whole ordeal go down with a drink in hand, guess he must have gotten up to get some juice and stayed for your one on one brawl with the trash can. Rolling your eyes, you wave it off, “Completely under control.” You mutter as he slowly nods.

Well this is awkward.

Shifting your gaze from Bucky to your friends and back to Bucky again, he finally speaks, “Is that why the lid has smoke coming from under it?”

“What?” You wonder in puzzlement before looking back down at the trash can to find smoke indeed rising, “Oh fuck!” Ripping the lid off you’re kindly greeted with a burst of flame and smoke. Well, shit.

“Uh, Y/N?” Asks Bucky with an uncertain chuckle, “You’re positive everything is under control?” Quips your smartass boyfriend.

With more flames rising to an almost alarming level, though not quit yet, you glance at your oblivious friends before racing for the sink, “Yes! Everything is fucking fine!” Wanda skips to the side as you snatch a cup of something from the counter by the sink.

Running back you skid in your tracks and dump the clear liquid onto the flames which causes them to rise even higher and gain the attentions of everyone sitting down and relaxing, “Why is my trash can on fire?” Asks Tony as casually as ever.

“I don’t know maybe it looks better this way?!” You sass before giving the glass a double take, “The hell? What the fuck was in this!” You shout, holding up the glass while fire burns in the trash from behind you.

“Oh that had some Quinjet fuel in it, why do you ask?” Replies Tony, he’s gotta be fucking with you.

Squinting at him in bewilderment, you shake the empty glass in frustration, “Why the fuck would there be a random glass of fuel sitting in a clear unlabeled glass on the fucking sink of all places!”

“What did you think it was?”

“Oh I don’t know!? Water?!” You snap causing the fire to roar even higher at your outburst.

Looking almost like a demon princess standing there with flames rising from behind you, your fists ball up with blue flame, something that you don’t even realize is happening as you give Tony a (what the fuck are you actually stupid) face.

Sensing your obvious irritation and rising anger, Bucky comes to the rescue with a whole bowl full of actual water and promptly dumbs it onto the flames which causes the unless materials to sizzle and whine. Soon the oranges and reds are gone, leaving the contents turned to ash and nothing more then wet soot.

Distinguishing your own flames, you hang your head low, revealing a tired heavy sigh as you mumble, “Shit.” Suddenly you feel admittedly quit drained and annoyed from the events of the day, even if they weren’t all bad.

Your friends keep silent for a moment before Steve quickly stands, “Movie night anyone?” Gaining the attention of everyone in an instant; you bless the blonde for his intuitive ways of helping you out in the smallest of moments. He truly is a great friend.

“Yeah I could watch something.” Adds Sam with a shrug, “I’m thinking Deathly Hallows Part 2.”

“Yeah it’s pretty good I’ll join.”

“Me too.”

“Yeah I’m in.”

Everyone get up and begins walking for the door as you stay standing in your spot near the wet and ash covered metal trash can, everyone exiting for the home theater except for Bucky who’s back is to you while he tells Sam you’ll be there in a minute.

Folding your arms, you suddenly feel like it’s the first time you and Bucky have ever talked one on one with each other, you’re typically a pretty damn confident and fiery person to begin with, it’s just. Being mad at your favorite human in the whole entire world and then embarrassing yourself with accidentally setting the trash can on fire can take its toll.

Also not to mention the mission many hours ago was admittedly hectic and stress inducing and then, Bucky....perhaps a moment to calm down would have been smart if taken earlier. God your life moves to damn fast.

“You are so intense sometimes.”

Breaking out of your self reflective trance, your eyes quickly dart up to see Bucky who’s giving you a soft smile, “If you wanted my attention you could have just asked.”

“Very funny.” You scoff, “I was actually too busy being mad at you.”

“Ah, right.” Nods Bucky as he mirrors your defensive positioning, deciding to cross his arms and make a pouty face like yourself, “So I guess we’ll just stay here and brood then?”

“I’m trying to make a point.” You mutter, you’re not gonna crack, you’re not gonna do it.

“I’m trying to get my girlfriend to watch a movie with me.” Admits Bucky with an affectionate head tilt as you frown, “I know they’re not going to wait for us so....uh....okay let me start over.....I’m sorry for being reckless and almost dying. And I mean it too, with all of my heart. I love you Y/N.”

Although you’d like to throw his dumb reckless ass some sass and strut away leaving him guessing and begging for more, you just can’t find it in you at this point. He looks at you with those big beautiful blue eyes full of love and adoration for you and only you, how could you possibly resist them?

You know with every ounce of your soul that he means every single word, and you also know that he’s missed you since the second you yelled at him and slammed the facility door, leaving him alone and regretting his past decisions that could have potentially ended him then and there.

“Sometimes James, sometimes.” You mutter, shaking your head in disapproval before a small smirk pulls at your lips and in that moment he knows you’re his, “Come here.”

Heeding to your wonderful command that he’s been waiting to hear all day, he swiftly makes the short distance to gather your smaller body into a giant Bucky bear hug, his strong arms wrap protectively around your back as his head falls into the side of your neck as he quickly steals a small kiss.

You pull him in even tighter and fully enjoy the sensation of himself flush against you, metal arm squeezing your rip cage and long dark hair that falls into your eyes; god you love him so much.

Giving you one last little squeeze of affection, Bucky slowly pulls away and presses his head against yours, “I gotta be honest, I have no idea what this movie is about.” Reveals Bucky as he continues to holds you close.

Chuckling you press a kiss to his lips, “I’ll tell you what’s happening. Let’s go before we miss anything else.”

Nodding, he tilts your head up to press a sweet kiss to your lips one last time before letting you go, so that the two of you can begin walking for the door. Opening up the metal and glass door for you like the gentleman that he is, Bucky quickly jogs over to your side.

“So Sam told me these guys are wizards or something? Like they can teleport and fly I think?” States Bucky in question while walking in step with you.

Looking over at him you smile at how cute he’s being right now, giving him an agreeable nod, “Yeah they can do cool stuff like change form and set things on fire.”

Bucky suddenly starts laughing much to your confusion, “Y/N does that make you a wizard?”

Shoving him to the side you snort as he keeps laughing, “Shut up.” You mutter humorously as he stumbles from your friendly push.

Making quick steps to catch up with you, Bucky pulls you into his side, “Forgive me I didn’t mean it...” Snickers your adorable idiot, “I bet you’d be the best wizard, pointy hat and all.”

Shaking your head you can’t help the smirk that tugs against your better wishes, “I’m gonna set you on fire.” You jokingly threaten him with as he affectionately squeezes your side, causing you to be pressed even closer against him.

“Wizard.” Muses Bucky as he plants a kiss to your cheek as you try and push him away.

“Bucky, shut the fuck up.”

“But, I love you.”

#bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x y/n #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #marvel x you #fanfic

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craziest-in-the-guild · 3 years

Text

Resolute

Chapter 2 of the Long Night series

Content Warnings: 18+ for some adult themes (still not to the smut, but were headed there) Nightmares/post traumatic stress

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Although this is reader x rex, I couldn't help but make reader a red head. Hope that's ok. Is it dyed? Natural? You decide!

I said goodbye to Kix and handed over his care to my coworker. His ankle was broken in two places, and while it wasn’t bad enough for surgery, it would be soaking in bacta for several hours. I had given him some pain meds and told him to enjoy his rest.

I hated to leave him, but I needed to go home and get ready to ship out in the morning. I needed rest myself, but I knew there was no way I was going to sleep. How could I sleep? I was never meant to be on the battlefield.

_____________________________

Rex headed back to the barracks to tell his men about Kix and their new medic. Kix had assured him that he thought she would be able to handle the stress of a war zone. He hoped for her sake that he had made the right decision.

“Where’s Kix?” Jesse asked as soon as Rex came through the door.

“Kix broke his kriffing ankle and won’t be shipping out with us.”

“Who’s going to be our medic?” Fives asked, “Surely not one of those kriffing med droids!”

“I found a replacement. You know the medic from medbay that patches you all up when you are too drunk from 79’s or hurt from a fight? She is coming with us.”

“HER?” They all asked, surprised.

“Yes, her,” a weary Rex responded. “Kix said he wanted her to be his replacement, and I want you all to make her feel welcome. Afterall, she may save your hide out there.”

______________________

Maker, I had just closed my eyes when my alarm started blaring. The room was cold and my covers were nice and toasty, killing any will I might have had to get up. Why is a bed the most comfortable right when you have to leave?

I grumbled, threw back the covers, and headed to the fresher. I indulged myself, heating the water until it was steaming. I didn’t know how the showers were aboard light cruisers, but I was betting they weren’t this good. My self indulgence couldn’t last too long, or else I’d be running late. Begrudgingly, I turned the water off.

I heard a knock at my apartment door and wondered who it could be at this early hour. I slid on my robe and went to investigate.

“Captain, what are you doing here so early? Am I late?” I crossed my arms to ensure my robe stayed closed, feeling slightly awkward in front of the captain. It didn’t help that he was so handsome. I could feel my cheeks flushing.

“No, I just wanted to come get you so we could go to the quartermaster’s and make sure you have everything you need.”

He handed me a pair of blacks to put on. I was a little confused as blacks were what the troopers wore under their armor.

“Oh, ok, um, do you want to come in while I finish getting dressed?”

The captain seemed surprised that I invited him in. We both stood still in the awkward silence for a moment, both presumably exhausted and not firing on all cylinders. I could see the dark circles under his eyes that indicated he hadn’t slept either. I wondered if he ever really slept.

“I have fresh caf brewing,” I offered.

Fresh caf was enough to lure him in. I brought him a steaming hot cup and then headed to the fresher to get dressed.

“We’re going to outfit you with clone armor for this mission, that’s part of why I’m here early. I wanted to have enough time to get you fitted and dressed. We aren’t used to fitting armor to a woman” Rex said.

“I’d say not. Do you think there will be enough room in the chest?” I quipped. With that, I heard Captain Rex choke on his caf and go into a coughing fit.

“Sorry!” I yelled from the fresher. I could only imagine the look I was getting.

I came out of the fresher to find the Captain as composed as ever. You would have never known that he nearly suffered death by witty comment and hot caf five minutes earlier.

Captain Rex stood and moved to the door, “Ready?”

I grabbed my bag, stepped into the hallway, and paused to look at my small apartment, wondering if I’d ever see it again.

_______________________________________________

We arrived at the quartermaster’s to find a shiny new set of armor sitting on the counter. I immediately grabbed the helmet to try it on, only to find it to be too big. As I turned my head, it shifted from side to side. I couldn’t help but giggle a little, feeling like a child stealing their dad’s helmet. The captain cracked a smile.

“I think you need some extra padding,” he said as he took the helmet off my head. He added a few more pads to help tailor the fit. There hadn’t been time to get me a custom helmet.

“Oh, that’s much better”

“Are you ready to quit playing and try the rest on?” Rex asked with a small smile.

“Go ahead and put on the bottom half, then I’ll help you with the top half”.

The boots fit much better than the helmet. The codpiece was a little awkward, but I figured I’d get used to it, or at least use it to make obscene jokes.

“Here, let me help you with the back plate and breast plate, they’re a bit difficult until you get used to them.”

He snapped on the abdominal plate and then the breast and back plates. He stood behind me, adjusting everything. I could feel his breath on the back of my neck, and it was sending small shivers down my spine. The Captain was quiet and I yearned to break the silence, but didn’t know what to say.

“Captain-“

“Please call me Rex.” It was nearly a whisper. This sent even more shivers down my spine. Did he know what he was doing to me?

The moment- was it a “moment”?- was shattered.

“Hey! Red on the head, fire in the bed!” Fives hollered from across the room.

I laughed and rolled my eyes back as far as they would go.

He had called me that one night in med bay when he had been brought in, half passed out from a night at 79’s. One look at my red hair, and he’d uttered the phrase that had basically become my nickname. He said it to me every time I saw him in med bay, which was often.

“Fives! How are you? It’s been more than a couple weeks since I’ve seen your drunk carcass in med bay,” I jeered.

“Captain’s been keeping us out in the field a lot lately, he doesn’t believe in fun,” he said with a goofy grin on his face. Rex punched him in the shoulder.

Rex finished adjusting the breast plate and attaching my pauldrons. The left pauldron bore the red and white mark of a clone medic.

Fives had disappeared into the storage room and came back with a medic bag. He blew the dust off of it and handed it to me.

“Here, put this and your helmet on. Let’s see the whole thing,” he said.

I put them on and looked out of the helmet to see Rex and Fives beaming.

“You look great, doc,” Fives said.

“Fives, report to the launch bay, we’ll be along shortly,” Rex ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

Fives gave me a salute and a wink as he walked off. I gave him an audible huff and eye roll he couldn’t see through my helmet.

Rex chuckled.

“You’re going to fit in well here, you know.”

—————————

The hangar was a sight to behold with all of the clones in formation.

Rex gave a short motivational speech and ordered everyone into the transports.

“You stay with me, Fives, Jesse, Tup, Echo, Dogma, or Hardcase, and you’ll be fine,” Rex instructed.

I nodded and put my helmet on. I loaded into the crowded transport with them and we headed for the Jedi cruiser Resolute.

Coruscant faded away as we climbed higher.

________________________

The Resolute was bigger than I could have imagined. I had seen holo images of cruisers, but it doesn’t compare to seeing one for real. There were so many ships in the hangars. I walked past an AT-TE and stopped to marvel at the size.

“Wanna see the inside?” Hardcase asked.

“Hell yes I do!”

Hardcase beamed at my enthusiasm. His first loves were weapons and heavy equipment.

“This pretty girl can climb just about anything she encounters. She’s even got magnetized feet so she can climb metal,” he explained as I looked around the cockpit at all the buttons.

“She can even withstand being in space for a bit, since she can be pressurized. Sometime you’ll have to ask Rex about that adventure. Here, I’ll give you a boost up into the gunner’s seat.”

The gunner sat exposed, but I could easily see how it would be fun to mow down droids with the cannon. I looked down to see Rex looking up at us.

“Hardcase, it’s time to get everything ready for tomorrow, there’s lots to be done. Our medic there needs to get to her briefing, too,” he instructed.

“Thanks, Hardcase, this was fun, can you show me more another time?”

“Yep, anytime. It’s always my pleasure to show off my toys,” he had a cheesy grin stretching from ear to ear.

I hopped down and followed Rex to my first briefing.

________________________

Dinner followed the briefing. The boys were rowdy and there was a sense of excitement buzzing in the air. I ate my meal in near silence, being plenty entertained by the crass and ridiculous things the men of the 501st were discussing. It was clear that it helped keep their minds off of the coming battle.

It was late when I retired to my quarters, hoping to get a few hours of rest.

______________

Geonosis was barren, except for various rock formations. The night was eerily dark and Rex was alone. He walked the desert landscape, looking for any signs of life. He tried his comm again, only to be answered with broken static.

The Captain finally saw something in the distance, although he could not make it out. As he approached the shapes, Rex found Fives, Jesse, and her, laying on the ground. He removed their helmets, only to see dark voids where their eyes had been. Blood started pouring out of the chasms. Their lifeless bodies suddenly sat up, repeating “It’s your fault we’re dead.”

Rex’s eyes shot open and he awoke to find he was still in his bunk. He was covered in sweat and his heart was nearly beating out of his chest.

It was just a nightmare.

The nightmares never stopped.

Being a soldier was hard, but being a leader was harder. He never stopped wondering if he made the wrong decisions. He never stopped worrying about his vod. So many had died, and he still carried each one with him.

He decided to go to the mess hall for some caf. Might as well since he couldn’t sleep anyway. Rex walked past his men to the door. He was relieved to see Fives, Jesse, Tup, Echo, Hardcase, and Dogma, all asleep, snoring, in their bunks. He looked around and wondered which men he would lose tomorrow. A tear escaped and he let it fall, knowing that no one would see. He wiped the tears away and continued towards the mess.

The door slid open. The mess was empty except for her. She had her head down on a table, red hair splayed over her arms. He wondered how long she’d been here. Rex walked to her, gently calling her name. She didn’t even flinch. A cup of caf was beside her, ice cold, indicating she had been there for some time.

Rex laid a hand on her shoulder.

“Wake up, cyar'ika, you’ll be much more comfortable in your bed.”

She drowsily raised her head and brushed her hair back.

“Rex?” she asked as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

“Yeah, it’s me. C’mon, I’ll walk you back to your quarters.”

She stood up and stretched. There were lines across her face from where it had rested on her arm. Rex couldn’t help but smile.

They walked back to her quarters, making small talk along the way.

“I’m nervous, that’s why I couldn’t sleep,” she said spontaneously.

“I would expect you to be nervous,” he assured, “I won’t sugar coat it and say that it will be easy. It will likely be a bloodbath. But, we’ll be there to help you. We will get through this together.”

They stopped in front of her door and she turned to Rex, laying a hand on his arm.

“Thank you, Rex,” she said and then disappeared into her room.

He stood at the closed door for a minute, her touch still lingering.

“Sleep well, mesh’la.”

_________________________________________

I woke up early so I could check my medic bag and have a cup of caf before deploying.

The mess hall wasn’t busy, but there were a few clones up and about. I grabbed my caf and scanned the room. Jesse saw me and waved me to a table with him, Dogma, Echo, and Tup.

“ ‘Mornin, boys.”

“ ‘’Mornin, Doc,” they replied in near unison. It wasn’t uncommon for soldiers to call their medics “doc”. Field medics did it all.

“Where’s Fives and Hardcase?” I inquired.

“Those two will sleep til the last second,” Dogma said as he rolled his eyes. I’d been told Dogma was a stickler for rules. I expected he was early for everything.

I sat down next to Jesse, started sipping my caf, and inventorying my bag.

Bacta? Check.

IV supplies? Check.

Normal saline? Check.

Lasted ringers? Check.

Bandages? Check.

Tourniquets? Check.

The bag didn’t hold much, but it was enough to get the men back to the field hospital. I sat the bag on the floor and joined the conversation.

“You ready, Doc?” Tup asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess. You boys just try to keep from getting blown to bits and I’ll be fine,” I jeered. They laughed in agreement.

“Seriously? I’m scared shitless, but I know you guys have my back and that makes it better,” I admitted.

“It’s ok, I think everyone but Hardcase was scared on their first mission,” Jesse said.

I’d met Hardcase a few times in med bay. He never backed down from a fight, in fact, he usually went looking for it.

Our comms lit up and a voice announced that we needed to report to our gunships. We cleared the table and headed down to the hangar. As we entered the elevator, Fives and .

Hardcase came running down the hall,

“Hold the door, wait for us!” Fives shouted.

I held the door for them. Both were still finishing putting on their armor. I smiled and shook my head.

“Whhhaaattt?” Fives asked with a smile. “Better late than never, right?”captain

#captain rex #clone trooper rex #rex x reader #star wars #the clone wars #clone trooper jesse #clone trooper fives #clone trooper kix #clone trooper echo #clone trooper tup #arc trooper fives #clone trooper hardcase #clone x reader

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ariel-seagull-wings · 3 years

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TOP 12 SNOW WHITE PORTRAYALS

@princesssarisa @superkingofpriderock @sunlit-music @mademoiselle-princesse @amalthea9 @theancientvaleofsoulmaking @astrangechoiceoffavourites

Lips red as blood. Skin white as snow. Hair black as ebony. The fairest woman of all.

Snow White is one of the most iconic fairy tale characters ever created. And also one of the hardest to portray. This happens because, the story is less about her as a person, and more about following her exploration of the world and how this world reacts to her. The tale calls her a princess, but really she is more meant to be a common everygirl for a variety of readers and audiences to see themselves in. So the greatest challenge to portray the character becomes how to make at the same time universally relatable, and an individual character, and today, i’d like to share my favorite portrayals, that camed closer in acomplishing this goal.

12º Laura Berlin in Sechs Auf Einen Streich (2009)

Berlin’s Snow White acts as an outgoing, playfull young lady who deep down is trying to deal with the longing for her dead mother. And then, her father marries a new, vain and cruel woman, and sayed woman orders that the portrait of the previous queen be trown out, wich obviously makes the princess verbally snap against her father weak-willed and her tyranical stepmother. And then her father has a stroke and her stepmother orders her death. Here is a young lady in an emotinal turmoil and distress, wich makes her very relatable to audiences.

11º Nicola Stapleton and Sarah Paterson in Canon Movie Tales: Snow White (1987)

One of the first times that we see the fair princess explicitly growing up from child to young adult. Nicola Stapleton is probably more charismatic as child! Snow White, having more time on scene where she gets to sing with her father, explore the room where her stepmother keeps the magic mirror, until finally having to run trough the woods and meeting the dwarfs, but Sarah Paterson also makes adult! Snow White likable, singing about her desire to someday leave the dwarfs house because she is growing and may need her own space, and showing the doubt between fear and curiosity in her interactions with her disguised stepmother. This highlights more the themes of coming of age and confronting ones fears from the tale.

10º Yuri Amano/Donatella Fanfani/Eileen Stevens in The Legend of Snow White (1994)

In this italian-japanese coproduced anime, the twelve year old Snow White is an inquisitive, merry and kind girl, that has to adapt to a more scary reality when she has to run away from the castle to not be killed. At the dwarfs house, where she is so hungry and tired she takes all bread from a basket and sleeps for hours, she decides to give her hazelnuts and try to do shores to compensate for entering the house and eating the bread. Unfortunally, being a princess who lived in comfort all her life, she fails hard when she tries to do domestic shores, burning bread and cutting lettuce that she tought were garden plagues. But she is so sweet and kind, that it doesn’t matter. Conquering the affection of people for who she is, and not for what she can do in exchange, is the greatest strenght of this encarnation.

09º Elizabeth McGovern in Faerie Tale Theatre (1984)

A lonely girl who just wants some atention and love. Those are the characteristics that McGovern’s Snow White extablishes for herself in her first appearance, trying to impress her stepmother with juggling tricks learned with the Court Jester. Later, in the forest, when she is about to be stabbed, she prays to God for the soul of the Huntsman who is about to kill her, and to her surprise this act of kindness is what changes the Huntsman’s heart and convinces him to spare her life. In the woods she finds the dwarfs cottage, and can finally have friends to talk about things like her nostalgia for swiming in the castle moat/pit. She won’t feel alone again.

08º Kristin Kreuk in Snow White: The Fairest of them All (2001)

In this Hallmark TV Movie, Kreuk gives a 16 year old Snow White who searches friendship in garden gnomes. In a way, she expands the theme of loneliness explored by McGovern, and goes deeper about it, relating sayed loneliness with beauty: she is an awkward and melancholic person, who feels that people only care with her pretty appearance, but don’t actually come close to truly meet her as a person. In a lesser hand, this idea of a person who thinks being considered beautifull is hard could sound absurd and over dramatic, but the screenwriters and Kreuk’s sincere performance make it a compelling dilema.

07º Natalie Minko in Schneewitchen (1992)

An energetic fifteen year old, who likes to run around to play with the Court Jester, and mess up the kitchen while doing pancakes that glue in the ceiling. Minko’s Snow White is one of the few Snow White’s who is allowed to act as a normal teenager: she makes messes, she sometimes verbally fights with people, she constantly questions the adults around her, all the wille still being a genuinelly kind hearted person pursuing the path of truth.

06º Tamara Rojo in Emilio Aragon’s Blancanieves (2005)

I loved watching the DVD of this ballet production over and over as a kid. Trough dance movements, Tamara Rojo gives us a gracious and fun princess. Whetever she goes, a party will always start.

05º Adriana Caselotti in Disney’s Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs (1937)

My first portrayal of Snow White. The Disney version was raised working as a palace scullery maid, wich her stepmother hoped would make her ugly. But that didn’t work. She grows beautifull in body and soul: her singing voice is so sweet it is enough to make a dashing Prince fall in love with her, the animals are always engaged by her joyfull and sassy conversations, and she has a firm way of talking that assures a position of leadership among both the animals and the dwarfs who later befriend her. Really, she is awesome. What can i say about her that hasn’t been sayed already?

04º Marguerite Clark in Snow White (1916)

The version that inspired Walt Disney to make his version. Based on a 1912 stage play, this is the version that extablished being raised as a palace scullery maid as the reason Snow White is good with domestic tasks despite being a rich princess. Clark’s Snow White is also compassionate, sweet, romantic and dreamy, and she mix those qualities with some energy and spunkiness, being an almost wild girl.

03º Carol Heiss in Snow White and The Three Stooges (1961)

The sass, spunkiness and sweet romanticism are back, but with a new adition: an athletic hobby. Carol Heiss was originally a golden medal winner olimpic ice skater, and this movie was made to capitalize in her popularity at the time (along with reviving the Three Stooges popularity). So, we extablish in this version that the heroine who is linked to the snow loves the winter, and one of the most popular sports in this season. No other version before or after that did this, even tough its the most obvious and most awesome thing to do with the character. Ad to that the (uncredited) singing voice dubbed by Norma Zimmer, and you have one of the most complete portrayals of Snow White: she is beauty, she is grace, she can sing, she can cook and she can ice skate. She is the most interesting woman that ever lived.

02º Sakiko Tamagawa/Julie Maddalena in Grimm’s Fairy Tale Classics (1989)

Orphaned from her mother at birth and having a father who is always too busy rulling the kingdom to pay attention to her, this version of Snow White grows up raised by a nurse named Doris, and playing on the garden with a young boy named Klaus. Her favorite pass time is to climb trees to pick apples, her favorite fruit. But one day her stepmother, who for years has been ignoring her, calls the princess to her chamber, and asks if she thinks herself to be most beautifull than the Queen. Annoyed with the absurd of the question, Snow White calls her stepmother out in her vanity. What follows is her running away, having to survive as a fugitive. Getting lost from her Klaus and stumbling in a root, she crawls for her life, until being saved by the seven dwarfs and their wolf friends. Time passes, and she finds a bit of fullfilment while slowly learning to do domestic chores to help the dwarfs, and finding friendship in the wolfs and a giant black bear. But she still craves to reunite with her friend Klaus and to find some love, while the Queen’s menace lures in the air.

And now the moment everyone was expecting... My number one favorite portrayal of Snow White is:

01º Camryn Manhein in The 10th Kingdom (2000)

I know what are you thinking: “Wait, a two episode cameo in a tv minisseries, instead of a protagonist, this is your favorite”? Yes. Yes, she is. In the Hallmark minisseries The 10th Kingdom, a young lady from the real world comes to the magical world to help to disenchant a Prince that has been turned into a dog. This dog prince is Snow White’s grandson. And then the heroes arrive at the Dragon Mountain in the 09th Kingdom, and Virginia has a conversation with the spirit of the late Snow White for counsel. And Snow White counsels Virginia by simply telling her story of once being an afrayed, lonely lost girl in the woods, finding new friends in the dwarfs, suffering three murder attempts from her stepmother, being aesleep for years with the poisoned apple in her troat, until the Prince’s servants stumbled with her casket so she could trow away the apple piece, so she could finally live happily ever after. While she narrates the tale, she says that she knew the danger presented by the ribbons, the comb and the apple, but she also knew that she could hide in the dwarfs cottage, afrayed to be hurt, forever. And her husband was a good man, but she saved herself from death. With that dialogue, Manheim’s sensitive and wise Snow White ressignified the fairy tale for me, making me appreciate better the story and her character. And that is why she my number one portrayal of the fairest princess of all.

HONORABLE MENTIONS: Elke Arendt in Schneewitchen (1955), Maresa Hörbiger in Schneewitchen (1971) and Elaine Bilstad as White Snow in Happily Ever After: Fairy Tales for Every Child (1995).

#snow white #schneewittchen #snow white and the seven dwarfs #brothers grimm #fairy tales #fairy tale #folklore #mithology #literature #genre fiction #pop culture

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joel-millerr · 4 years

Text

Facing The Past

Chapter Three of We Are One When Together (formerly A Mandalorian and a Smuggler)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 11.6K

Summary: You and Mando head to Nevarro for him to collect the bounty on your head, but of course things don’t go as planned...

Warnings: violence, a little bit of smut, ANGST (as per usual), let me know if there's anything I missed

A/N: (its also my first time writing any smut so hopefully it’s *okay*)

Nevarro is…gloomy—definitely not the type of planet you’d willingly visit. All you could see up until the horizon are plains of rock, cracks filled with lava, and steam emitting from the slits in the ground. Not even the sun shining down on you can improve the landscape. It’s muggy, and dark. In hindsight, it’s the perfect place for a bounty hunter base; the occupation compliments the wasteland that is this planet.

You don’t mean to be overly critical of bounty hunters, but they are to blame for imprisoning so many of your crew that your anger clouds any rational and unbiased opinion about this planet.

Mando lands the Crest just outside the walls of the city. The town itself looks terribly small, but doesn’t seem like a totalshithole. Other than Nevarro being the central location for the Bounty Hunters Guild, you don’t know much about the planet. Most of the spice running deals are made far away from here—for obvious reasons. Even you’re not reckless enough to step foot on a planet where most of the population wants to hunt you down for a price.

The last couple of days have been…awkward to say the least. Ever since your ‘incident’ on Sorgan, Mando’s barely said two words to you. Maybe he’s angry at you, maybe he’s scared of you—you can’t be sure, but he’s been distant. He no longer stands close to you, or engages in small conversation like he did back on Sorgan, and when he does, he doesn’t even look at you. His helmet stays peeled to whatever it is he was doing before you addressed him. It’s incredibly frustrating. You want to explain, you want to reassure that you would never think of doing that to him or the Child, but you yourself can’t even be sure of that. It feels completely out of your control, so how could you even attempt to reassure him that it couldn’t happen? You’re basically a simmering pot, and every day the water gets closer to the brim, and could bubble over at any minute.

And if you’re being honest, deep down you’re a little relieved that soon you’ll be in custody. You won’t be able to cause any more harm, even if some of them deserve it.

You’ve been living in the cockpit since you left Sorgan, spending most of your time sitting in the chair going over and analyzing every single moment from that night. There was obvious anger inside of you, and rightfully so considering that man had tried to kill you twice, but there was also a…voice. It was a whisper, like something deep in your subconscious, forcing you to do its bidding. It told you to make him suffer, to make him bleed, and the voice was happy to see the hunter in pain. Clouding every rational thought in your mind, it was like being trapped inside your own body. Screaming to break through, you were a helpless passenger watching your body commit this atrocity. You’ve never been malicious, you thought yourself a caring person. Someone who wouldn’t inflict harm just for the sake of revenge, but now you’re not sure who you are anymore.

Who are you? Are you a mechanic? Are you a spice smuggler? Are you a monster? There are voices at odds inside of you. They fight for dominance, they beg you to choose who you wish to be, and for the first time in forever, you’re scared of who you are becoming. You’re not who you thought you were, you’re not who Tye believed you to be, or who your parents raised you as. Are you this dangerous criminal that the fucking Republic paints you as?

“We’re here.” Mando’s baritone comes out strained. He lingers in the doorway of the cockpit for a few seconds then descends the ladder, not bothering to wait for you to catch up.

“Okay.” Your leg bounces off the floor, and you’re biting down on your lip so hard, you’ll probably leave a permanent mark. Eyes looking dead ahead, the Nevarro horizon looking back at you, you wonder if you’d still be in this situation if your parents were still alive. Would you have still rebelled and turned to a life of constant running? Would you have stayed on Tatooine, leaving no mark for the galaxy to remember you by? Would you still have met Mando somehow?

Using your heels to push you to your feet, you take one last look at the cockpit and then head down the ladder. The ramp is open, and you catch Mando waiting for you at the top of it. The Child rests in his arm, tiny hand latched onto his gloved index finger.

As you both descend down the ramp, there’s a man standing ahead of you, just in front of the archway entrance to the city. From the kept white beard that rests on his cheeks and chin, you assume he’s middle aged. There’s a black cloak wrapped around his body, fastened around his clavicle are two golden clasps attached to a chain which are only worn by magistrates. Mando has some powerful friends, you think to yourself.

“Ah, Mando!” The man exclaims gleefully, throwing his arms up in the air.

“Karga.” Mando acknowledges, his voice keeping low.

“How are you, my friend?”

“Alive.” There’s a hint of jest in Mando’s tone.

The man laughs loudly. “When did you become such a comedian?” A big hand clasps down on his beskar pauldron. The Child in Mando’s hand coos and catches Karga’s attention.

“And how are you, little one?” He reaches out to hold the green gremlin and the bounty hunter allows it, gently handing him over to Karga.

“Alright Mando,” The man begins to say, “Let’s get this over with.” He turns on his heel, the baby still in his arms and takes two steps before shouting over his shoulder, “The quarry can stay here. They’ll be here soon enough to collect the bounties.”

Mando doesn’t exactly look at you, but the helmet does tilt in your direction. He’s just a foot ahead of you and you swear you see his shoulders slouch for a second, like he’s having second thoughts. It’s dumb, you shouldn’t be thinking of something so foolish. He had a job to do, and now he’s done it. You’ll both go your separate ways and never see each other again. That’s how this is supposed to go. That’s how this was going to end ever since he captured you.

Two collectors stand nearby, waiting for Karga to give them the order. As he and Mando pass through the arches, the collectors make their way to you. Swallowing the lump in your throat, refusing to show any weakness or sadness and with as much gusto as you can muster, you call out “Well, it was nice knowing ya, Mando.”

How stupid of you to think you could possibly mean anything more to him than a fucking quarry. He never gave you any indication that he even liked you. He merely tolerated your presence because you were useful. It was nothing more than a transaction between you both, and you could kick yourself for even letting these thoughts roam free in your mind. Forget Mando, forget the kid, forget every fucking person in this world who’s hurt you or left you. When this first started, you wanted Mando to get his credits because you liked him, but now with the ice-hot anger brewing inside of you, you don’t care anymore.

The two collectors—Rodians you infer as they get closer to you, approach the Crest, one of them heading up the ramp into Mando’s ship to collect the quarries in carbonite, the other staying by your side, probably anticipating that you’ll try to make a break for it although realistically, there isn’t a single place you could run to. You would either have to run into the city and try to hide or run for the hills. Neither option sounds tempting enough, given the fact that Mando would be on your ass in seconds.

Three carbonite chambers float down the ship, and the collector gives the one by your side a nod of acknowledgement. Your eyebrows pull together as you examine the subtle exchange between both men. The stranger next to you binds your wrists and shoots you a smile that’s anything but kind. The corner of his lip curls into a sinister grin, one that shoots panic up and down your spine. In the corner of your eye, you make out the silhouette of nearby ship. Was that always there?

Wait, shouldn’t there be more than just two members securing the quarries? This doesn’t make any sense. Why aren’t there more people here? Why is no one else here?

“Let’s go,” One of them orders. The first one makes a beeline for the ship, leaving behind the quarries from the Crest. Why would Guild members leave behind quarries?

Something’s not right. Your heart is hammering in your chest, adrenaline beginning to pump through your veins, and the urge to fight is starting to prick at every nerve ending in your body. These guys can’t Guild members. Somehow, they’ve fooled everyone.

They urge you forward to the ship in the distance and you plant your feet firmly into the ground. If they manage to get you on that ship, you’re done for. You need to struggle as much as you can and pray to the Maker that someone will realize this whole thing is a set up.

“Where are you taking me?” Trying to suppress the alarm in your voice, it comes out choked and feeble. A large hand grips your bicep and makes you whimper, their dexterous fingers digging into the thin material of your sleeve. You jerk back, trying to wriggle out of their hold, but it only causes them to tighten the grip around your bicep, pain now shooting up and down your arm.

“Fucking let me go!” You shout, hoping someone—Mando, will hear you, but no one can hear you.

“Oh, shut up!” The Rodian ahead of you shouts before swiftly turning on his heel and stalking towards you. His large fist winds up and slams into your stomach, knocking you completely off balance. If it wasn’t for the other one holding you upright, you would have fallen flat on your back. Nonetheless, you crouch over, wincing at the pain in your abdomen. The men laugh together ruefully, sheer enjoyment displayed on their faces.

“The boss is going to love playing with you,” One of them taunts, leaning down towards you and grabbing hold of your chin so that he can look you in the eyes.

“Fuck you,” You spit out through ragged breaths.

“Why, you little bitch.” A hand comes flying at your face and you brace yourself for the pain, sewing your eyes shut. His green backhand connects with the softness of your cheek with so much force that your head snaps to the side, following the movement of his hand. Your cheek throbs, ripples of pain so intense you feel tears threatening to fall down your cheeks.

The wrath inside you is screaming and clawing at your insides. The whisper in your head commands you to cause them pain. It craves the cries of their sufferings, to see the life drain from their eyes. You’re trying to fight it; you don’t want to let that fucking voice win, but the searing agony from their blows feed the darkness that roars deep within you. You can feel your control slipping, fingers twitching against your will as your attackers try to haul you into their ship.

A beam of red light narrowly misses you, and one of your assailants drops to the floor with a loud thud. Your eyes bounce around you, trying to locate the source of the blast, when you catch the silhouette of shiny beskar running straight for you. There’s no hiding the joy and relief that is so evident on your face. He came back. Somehow, he came back for you.

You can feel the man still holding you start to panic. His body tenses, and he begins frantically pulling you into the ship, but now that you know you’re one-on-one, you waste no time fighting back. Gathering as much force as you can and flailing your bound arms around, his body turns towards you, and straightaway your leg lifts off the ground, slamming your knee right in his crotch. The man yelps in pain, hunching over involuntarily. You use this opportunity to connect your knee with his stomach with so much vigor, his body flies backwards, hitting the ground hard. As you lean over his body, he starts begging and pleading for his life.

“Please, please I was just doing it for the money!” He finally chokes out, his voice filled with pure terror as his hands come up in surrender. That evilness in your mind urges you to make his final moments hurt, to show no mercy for the man who would have certainly not shown you mercy. Shaking your head violently in an effort to cast out the mysterious voice, you wrench your eyes shut.

No.

You hear distance footsteps getting louder and louder, and then stop altogether. Tilting your head ever so slightly to the right, you can see his boots in the corner of your eye. Mando’s testing you. He wants to know if you’ll pull the same stunt you did back on Sorgan. As the man at your feet continues to plead for his life, the vulnerability and desperation in his voice pulls you out of whatever trance you were in.

This man is no different than you. He was given orders, and did what he thought was necessary in order to complete the contract. You can sympathize with that. There are so many things you’ve done in your time as a smuggler—things that have made you question your morals, and how far you’re willing to go to get the job done. Things you’re not proud of, things you now regret. At the end of the day, you’re both just pawns in a much bigger fight, and although you’ve both decided a path with little room for ethics, an unnecessarily harsh death is one you won’t inflict upon him.

You take a deep breath, inhaling in as much air in your lungs as possible, it almost burns them. Squaring your shoulders, you take a step back away from your assailant. That’s all the permission Mando needs, and his pistol comes up and sends a red beam of light right into the man’s chest, silencing him.

“We need to go. There will be more soon.” Mando warns, as he leans down and grabs the key from the dead man’s corpse to unbind your wrists. Your head bobs in acknowledgement, and then you’re both heading for the Crest. Karga’s waiting by the ramp of the ship, holding the Child in his arms. As soon as the little green baby spots you, he tries desperately to wiggle out of Karga’s grip, tiny arms reaching out for you. Mando takes the Child from his friend’s arms and gives him to you. Giant eyes peer up to look at you and the baby coos. Your lips curl up into a smile, taking two fingers to gently rub his ear.

“I had no idea the Empire was after her,” Karga says to Mando sincerely. The man’s gaze then turns to you. “I’m sorry. I should have known something was off about the deal.”

Shaking your head, you offer him a smile. “It’s fine.”

“You two should leave. It’s only a matter of time before someone else comes for them.” Them? Are they after the kid, too?

“Yes.” Mando answers matter-of-factly.

Karga nods, and a big hand comes out to shake Mando’s. “Safe travels, Mando.”

His gaze flicks towards you for a second and you offer him another smile and tip of the head before turning around and heading up the ramp to the Crest. You head straight for the cockpit, placing the child in the seat adjacent to yours and strapping him in. Mando comes in right after you, planting himself down in the pilot’s chair. The ships thrusters roar to life and you take off, the Nevarro landscape disappearing the higher your climb into the air.

Now that you actually have time to process what the fuck just happened; the reality of your situation hits you. It’s not the Republic that’s after you, it’s the Empire. The Empire you thought was defeated five years ago. The Empire that that killed thousands, if not millions of people.

Why? Why you? What could possibly be so special about you that the Empire has a fucking bounty on you? Wait, Karga had said ‘them’. Does that mean you and the Child? What could you and the Child possibly have in common that the Empire wants the two of you? Your mind recollects the moment you two shared on Sorgan—where he seemed to communicate something to you but that’s hardly enough of a connection, right? There’s just no way. You’re nothing but a petty smuggler. You haven’t lived a life worthy of being wanted by the fucking Empire. You had a normal childhood, and then went on to smuggling spice. That’s it. There’s literally nothing fucking exceptional about you.

Mando punches in some coordinates and activates the hyperdrive. The gentle hum of hyperspace fills the tension in the cockpit. Neither you nor Mando know what to say. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you start to question whether or not it’s a good idea that you’re even flying with them. If what Karga said is true, and the Empire is hunting you and the kid, surely having the two of you together is too risky. Realistically, you should split off. You should go your separate ways on whatever planet Mando’s set the coordinates for, in an effort to prolong the Imps’ search.

“Where are we going?” Your gentle voice cuts through the gentle purr of hyperspace.

“Tatooine. I have a friend there that owes me a favor.” His voice comes out slightly gruff through the modulator.

Your breath catches in your throat. You haven’t been back to Tatooine since your first smuggling run. After the job with Tye, you had made a decision to become a full-time runner, and vowed never come back to the shithole that was Tatooine, not while there was an infinite amount of galaxy out there that you hadn’t seen yet, leaving your old life and self to rot on that planet. There were too many hurtful memories, too much pain.

A small coo emits from the baby and you look over and see him slouching in his seat, big eyes blinking slowly. The poor thing must be exhausted. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you reach over and wrap him in your arms. He nestles in your lap, letting the sleepiness overcome his little body. At first you consider laying him in his pram and letting him sleep in there, but he’s already fast asleep in your arms before you can put him down, so you decide to let him rest where he is. The adrenaline and stress from the last couple of hours starts to take its toll on you. Exhaustion suddenly overwhelms you, the stiffness in your bones turns to fatigue, and you try to fight your eyelids from closing. You don’t want to fall asleep yet. You want to ask Mando why he came back for you, why he’s helping you, but your body succumbs to the exhaustion and you drift off to sleep, the last thing you hear is the stillness of hyperspace.

When you wake, the Child is no longer in your arms, and Mando isn’t in the pilot’s chair. Rising to your feet lazily, you drag them over to the control panel to check the status of your route, rubbing your eyes with your palm in order to steady your vision. You’ll be landing on Tatooine in less than an hour, which unfortunately only gives you a small finite amount of time to properly prepare yourself for the onslaught of memories that will smack you in the face once you land.

Maybe no one will remember you. Mos Eisley isn’t exactly the smallest city, meaning there’s chance that no one would even recognize you. All you need to do is avoid the cantinas and merchants you used to frequent back when you lived there and maybe, just maybe you could remain unseen.

Suddenly getting the feeling that someone’s watching you, you strain your neck while turning your head as much as it can, seeing the faintest hint of chrome in the corner of your eye. Turning your body towards the door, the sight of Mando takes you by surprise, and you can’t help but get startled by his sudden presence. You almost forgot how intimidating he actually looks. Even as he stands there doing nothing, there’s a certain level stoicism and command in the way he carries himself, the same way a man who’s a captain of a battalion would carry himself—robust, and proud, however also reserved. There’s no way to gauge what he’s thinking unless he deliberately tells you, and Mando doesn’t like to talk very much. It forces you to anticipate what he would think or how he would feel in every situation you’re both put in, wracking your brain and making it damn near impossible to keep up with him.

The shades of pale blue mixed with white reflect off his beskar armour. His visor is pointed at you, although you can’t be sure if he’s actually looking at you or through you. His stance is stiff which isn’t unusual but there’s a gentleness that radiates off of him. Your throat goes dry, and you’re sure you’re breaking skin from how hard you’re biting your lip. You haven’t had a proper moment alone together since that night on Sorgan, and neither of you spoke about what happened. There’s a lot of unanswered questions you need to discuss, but the thickness of the air around you is becoming overwhelming. You don’t say anything, and stay firmly planted where you stand. The Mandalorian mimics you, refusing to take a step forward. Your heart is thumping against your ribcage, heat coiling in your stomach and making it harder to ignore the wetness beginning to form in your panties. Refusing to show submission, your eyes stayed locked to the ‘T’ of his visor. His hands twitch at his sides, but shows no other kind of movement. He’s still as a fucking tree and somehow that only turns you on even more. He has to be feeling the same way you are right now. It can’t just be you this time.

Mando finally takes one step forward and your breathing hitches. Stars, if he comes any closer, you’re going to explode. You’ve never experienced this kind of tension before. Your body’s never felt so on fire and he hasn’t even touched you, but you desperately want him to. So you mimic his movements and take a step forward, testing him. It’s barely noticeable but somehow his back stiffens even more, chest pushing out faintly. The blood in your ears is deafening, your heart slamming so hard against your chest you feel like passing out.

“What are you doing?” The baritone pulling rough and breathy. Okay, so this is affecting him just as much as it is for you.

Your tongue glides against your bottom lip before biting down on it, hard. Curious to see how far you can push this, you don’t answer him and instead take another small step forward. By now you’re only a couple feet away from each other and the air of the cockpit is disgustingly thick with a need to fuck each other senseless right here and now. His hands ball up into fists and that lets you to know he’s fighting his primal desires. You think you hear short, distorted breaths emit from the helmet, but you’re too far away to be certain. Your panties are fucking soaked, your slick almost dripping down your thighs. It’s been too long since you’ve been fucked, and you need it, need Mando to bend you over the control panel and pound into you like a fucking animal.

It’s like he’s reading your mind, because he closes the gap between you two in a flash. He’s hovering over you, and despite the cool amour he wears, you can feel the heat radiating off him. Your nostrils fill with the smell of gunpowder, and his musk and it takes all your energy not to fucking whimper. Only Mando can get you this worked up when nothing’s even happened yet.

One of his brown leather-gloved hands comes up to touch your arm. If you thought your breathing was irregular before, well now you’re basically suffocating as his hand hovers your arm and you want to scream at him to touch you—beg him to do what you can’t bring yourself to do. Please, Mando.

Right as you feel a glove graze your arm, the ship jumps out of hyperspace, and in an instant your moment is over. His hand drops back to his side and you let out a deep breath of disappointment. Your shoulders slump, and your head drops, staring at the floor. Instinctively, you slither out of his way so he can slip into the pilot’s chair.

The radio comes to life, static filling the cockpit before a female voice emanates from the speaker. “Razor Crest, this is Mos Eisley Tower. We’ve picked up your signal. Head for bay three-five, over.”

“This is Razor Crest, locked in for three-five.” Mando answers coolly, as if two minutes ago there wasn’t an unbelievable amount of sexual tension between you two. You try to hide your annoyance at the fact that he can snap in and out of a moment so quickly. He’s seemed to have forgotten all about it unlike you who can’t seem to snap out of it. You reluctantly sit in your seat, shifting uncomfortably due to the stickiness of your underwear.

As you descend into Tatooine airspace, your nerves begin spiraling. Both your legs bounce off the ground, and your hands twiddle in your lap. If there’s one thing you fucking hate, it’s sand. Maker, you hate how the sand feels against your shoes, never giving you enough solid ground to walk properly. Constantly twisting your ankles because the sand concaved in certain areas. How it always fucking found its way into your shoes, your clothes, your hair. You could take four sonic showers and still feel fucking sand in places it should never be in. Then there was the absolutely incomprehensible fact that water was scarce here. A bare necessity for everyone to survive had to be farmed like vegetation. Curse the Maker for this planet. You’re not sure what planet you hated more, Kijimi or Tatooine.

Mando lands the Crest in the hangar the operator told him to, and your brows furrow looking at your surroundings. This hangar looks familiar. It’s not the one your parents owned, but you definitely recognize the random discarded parts scattered throughout the area. You hope you’re wrong, that Mando didn’t land in the only hangar that you’d know.

The Mandalorian rises from his seat and begins to make his way to the ladder. “Let’s go.” He calls out before climbing down the rungs. For a moment, you consider asking if you could stay in the ship the whole time you’re docked here, but it would be a ridiculous thing to ask. You’re an adult, and you have to confront your past, no matter how ugly it is. Reluctantly, you slide out of your seat and climb down the steps. The cubbyhole where Mando’s cot is located is shut, and you assume the Child was sleeping in there. He presses a button on his vambrace and the door slides open, the kid sits patiently at the door. Mando scoops up the Child, a tiny green hand immediately clutches onto one of Mando’s gloved fingers. The ramp opens slowly, and even from far away you instantly recognize the woman standing at the bottom of the ramp.

“Mando!” Peli exclaims, throwing her arms in the air and then resting them on her hips.

Peli fucking Motto. You’ve known her since you were a child. She was a difficult woman, to say the least. Not the most generous person—she only ever did someone a favor if there was something in it for her. You never personally worked for her, and there was a reason she only ever had droids as her workers. She was the type of woman who barked orders at everyone in her employment. What Peli lacked in size, she made up for in attitude.

Mando descends the ramp before you, your legs refusing to move. As soon as Peli catches sight of the baby, the tough exterior you’ve only ever seen disappears into a gentle, kinder demeanor. Mando hands her the baby and she wraps her arms around him, her hand gently caressing the little hairs on the Child’s head. The baby squeals in excitement. Her gaze leaves the baby to face Mando only for a moment, before locking her eyes with yours.

“Who’s your friend?” She asks him. Your face is covered by the shadows of the Crest, disguising your features. Holding your head up high and pushing your shoulders back, you walk down the ramp. Her face turns from curiosity to anger, fast. Eyebrows scrunching up and lips forming a tight line, she scoffs. “You have got to be kidding me.”

“Hi, Peli.” Your voice dripping in sarcasm.

“What the hell are you doing back here?”

“Believe me, I wouldn’t be here if I had the choice.”

Peli eyes stay locked on yours. You know that saying, ‘if looks could kill’? You’re pretty sure you’d be dead right now if that were true.

“It’s a bad idea to get involved with this one, Mando.” She turns to look at the visor. “She’s always been trouble.”

This time you let out a laugh, hand coming to sit on your hip. “That’s such bullshit, Peli and you know it,” Using your free hand to point a finger at her, punching out your next jab at her. “You’re the difficult one.”

“That’s rich coming from the spice smuggler.” Her last words dripping like venom.

You bite down hard on your jaw, wanting to argue, but in this very rare case, she’s actually right. It’s just one of the many truths you’ll have to face being back here.

“Anyway,” She says before turning away from you to face the Mandalorian to her right. “What can I help you with, Mando?”

“The hyperdrive needs to be fixed, and I need to refuel.”

“I’m surprised this one hasn’t offered her services.” Peli shoots you a glare.

“I did fix it but—” You begin to say but Mando cuts you off before you can finish.

“We were stranded, and it was only partially fixed. If I’m to make it to the next destination, I need to be at above 70%.”

“Sure thing, boss. We can get that fixed.” She shifts her weight to walk away from you both, but before she can call her droids, you call out to her. “There’s a problem.”

She turns her torso just enough to look in your direction, “With you? Why am I not surprised?” Rolling her eyes, she continues to stare you down.

“Look Peli, if you have something to say,” You taunt, taking a step towards her. “Then say it.”

Challenging you, she steps towards you as well. The Child in her arm fusses worriedly, and you almost back down from the confrontation when you realize this might be scaring the little guy. “Oh, I got a lot to say, kid.”

“That’s enough.” Mando orders. As reason comes back to you and somewhat clears your mind, it’s probably not a good idea to start a fight with the only person that can fix his ship and potentially get you off this planet, so you back off and step back.

“The Empire is after her,” Mando starts to explain. Peli shoots you another stare and rolls her eyes again. “We fought them off on Nevarro, but we don’t know how much time we’ll have until they come back.”

Despite her very obvious resentment towards you, she nods and forces a smile—not very comforting, but it’s enough to put you both at ease. “Don’t worry, Mando. I’ll have her ready as soon as possible.”

“Thank you.”

You continue to stare at Peli with daggers in your eyes. There’s a lot of undealt with animosity between you both, but you’re not sure you’ll have time to settle it. “We’re gonna go try and find a lead. Maybe someone here will know why she’s wanted. Can you watch the Child in the meantime?” He asks.

“Can I? Mando, this little guy is the only reason I let you in my hangar. This little womp rat has found a way into ol�� Peli’s heart.” She says affectionately, looking down at the baby and blabbing some nonsense. The kid responds by giggling and using his little arms to reach out and touch the finger that wiggles in front of him.

“Didn’t know you had a heart,” You whisper under your breath. Peli doesn’t seem to hear you, but Mando does because you hear a sigh comes from the vocoder. “That’s enough.” He orders, just loud enough for you to hear him.

Even though it’s been five, almost six years since you’ve been here, everything still looks the same. The whole city is devoid of color, just various shades of beige and whites as far as the eye could see. Every single home and every cantina stand like monuments made of fucking sand, showing no detail or artistry in their structure. It’s like every piece of culture from around the galaxy comes to Mos Eisley and dies, leaving only taupe boringness behind. It’s possible you’re being too harsh on the city, but you were born here so you have the right to be a bitch about it.

You never thought you’d be back here, breathing in the fucking dry, gritty filled air you grew up breathing in. It’s as stuffy and suffocating as you remember it, maybe even worse than you remember it. As the sun blazes down on you and Mando, you can admit there is one thing you actually do like about Tatooine. The sun was always out, always scorching hot and always beaming down on your skin, leaving a beautiful golden tint to your complexion. You could stay out all day and never develop a burn; your body was so used to the heat. Now, you wonder if that’s changed. Rolling up the sleeves of your tunic up to your elbow, the sun instantly pricks at your skin. The heat feels like a giant hug, caressing your untouched skin. Okay, maybe there was one thing you missed about Tatooine.

You both walk cautiously around the city looking for a cantina in the hopes of finding someone who might know what Empire wanted from you, but also keeping an eye out for possible threats. He treads a couple feet ahead of you, but you don’t mind. So far, you haven’t really recognized anyone, and no one’s seemed to recognize you. Just a couple more days and you can put this all behind you. There are plenty of vendors out, selling everything from fabric for clothing to food from other planets, to parts for ships. People from various walks of life mingle throughout the city. A few vendors away, you see a couple of Jawas trying to bargain for some old, outdated ship parts. The Jawas were always on the hunt for miscellaneous scrap metal parts, as well as other junk. To each their own, you guess. You’ve had a couple dealings with Jawas. They were sneaky, and smart despite their appearance. You had always tried to avoid making transactions with them if at all possible.

On your right, you see an older gentleman selling some garments, and the realization pops into your head that you do need new clothes. Since you weren’t planning on all of this happening, the only clothes you have are the ones on your back, and the ones you accidentally left behind on Sorgan. You’re in desperate need for new clothes.

“I’ll be right back,” You tell Mando before making a beeline for the old man’s stand. You don’t wait for Mando to acknowledge you.

“Hi there, traveler.” The man greets, using a cane to rise to his feet from the stool he was sitting on beforehand.

You offer him the same genuine smile he shows to you before letting your hands touch and feel the various assortment of garments placed before you on the table. “These are beautiful.” You remark.

“Thank you. My wife’s the one who sews them. She does all the work. I just sell them afterwards,” He humbly admits. Your eyes stay peeled to the numerous amount of attires on display in front of you, but still keeping that smile on your face. “Oh, hi sir. Can I interest you in anything?” He says, a mix of shock and kindness in his tone. You look up and notice Mando by your side.

“Nothing for me, thank you.” He says politely.

You decide on some charcoal-colored trousers that has some pockets sewn in on each side of the thighs, along with a white short-sleeved tunic. The merchant also sells backpacks, so you also buy one of those to store your new clothes in until you can get back to the Crest. It’s only once you start digging in your pockets that you’re embarrassingly aware that you have no credits on you. Mando picks up on the sudden realization and pulls out credits of his own and hands them over to the old man.

“I’ll find a way to pay you back,” You try to reassure him.

“It’s fine,” Mando replies.

The man bows and thanks you both for your business, and you nod in return before continuing your walk through the city.

After a few more minutes of walking, Mando spots a cantina just a couple buildings away and of course it’s the onecantina you hoped not to visit. It’s the one place you and Tye would frequent when you both lived here, and the owner of the establishment knew you both by name. The both of you had visited that cantina on pretty much a daily basis, playing sabacc with other locals, and getting way too drunk.

As you get closer to the door of the cantina, you stop in your tracks, your feet becoming cement blocks. It doesn’t take Mando long to notice that you’re no longer walking behind him, so when he does, he turns his body to see where you are and heads for you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Isn’t there another cantina we can check out?”

A sigh exists the helmet and big gloved hands come to rest on his hips. “Why?”

“I don’t know, I just feel like maybe there’s another cantina we can visit.”

“Why would we do that when there’s one right here?” His tone becomes faintly more irritated, probably because you’re wasting valuable time trying to run away from your past.

Your mouth opens to justify your apprehension, but there isn’t a single justifiable reason not to head into the cantina. Mouth forming a thin line, you shrug and start for the tavern.

The cantina is loud, all kinds of walks of life are gathered inside mingling. You stop just at the top of the stairs and begin scanning the area, looking for a quiet table you both can sit at. Mando clearly has other ideas because he doesn’t even bother to look around before heading straight for the bar. “Mando—” You call out, but he’s too far ahead to hear you, and the noise from the patrons inside drowns out your voice. The noise that escapes your lips is definitely full of annoyance, but there’s no telling Mando what to do. You follow suit, and stand a couple feet away from him, your back turned to his as you continue to look out for anyone you might know.

You can’t hear the exchange between the bartender and Mando, but by his posture, you guess he doesn’t receive any good news. Form what you can make out through the noise of the cantina, the droid behind the bar informs Mando that no one from the Empire has stepped foot in Mos Eisley in weeks, so the likelihood of anyone knowing anything is slim to none.

“Let’s go. There’s nothing here.” Mando’s voice cuts through the vocoder. You nod and head for the exit. One cantina down, only…too many more left.

Once back in the heat, you both continue to make your way through the city, taking random turns down streets less populated than the main path. You’re still being cautious over being seen by either someone from your past or someone looking to collect your bounty, but you’re much more relaxed now. Being back gives you a sense of familiarity and there’s a slight twinge of nostalgia that reminds you of your childhood. Every street you pass, every building you take notice of—it’s all things you’ve seen before. You can remember running down this exact street with Tye due to a game of tag. A couple streets away there was a food stand that sold the most amazing magenta colored fruit you had ever tasted in your life. It was a rare treat that only came in once every season, but it was so worth it. The fruit was sweet, and so full of juices that whenever you ate it, its nectars would trinkle down your chin and onto your tunic. Your mother always scolded you for eating without being careful, but it never stopped you from dirtying your shirt anyways. As you pass by where the stand used to be, all you see is an abandoned kiosk. Of course, it’s no longer there.

The sun’s beginning to set now, turning the sky into mixture of pastel pinks, blues, and purples that swirl around like an abstract painting. The streets are also starting to become less crowded; vendors are starting to pack up their stands for the day, and most of the locals are gathering in the cantinas for a night of gambling and drinking. You’re not sure when you began trailing behind Mando, but you follow him as he makes his way through the roads. Your arms are crossed against your body, the mental exhaustion of the day is starting to take its toll on your body.

He spots another cantina on the way back to the ship. There’s an unspoken conversation that occurs between you both. He tilts the helmet in the direction of the cantina, and your your shoulder lifts in the air in response. He walks in first then waits for you. When you’ve caught up to him, out of habit you take in your surroundings and take a scan of the room.

He crouches down and whispers in your ear. “Find us a booth. I’ll be there shortly.” The baritone of his voice cutting right through you and hitting a part of you inside that hasn’t been touched in ages. You can’t control the way your body reacts when he’s that close to you—the hairs on your arms standing up, the small shudder that went traveled from your spine down to between your thighs. You’re instantly reminded of the moment you two shared back in the cockpit of the Crest. You’re not sure if you’ll ever get to have another moment like that again, but you’ll live in that moment for as long as you possibly can if that’s all you’ll ever have.

There’s an empty booth at the back of the cantina so naturally that’s the booth you break for. Once you’re seated, you catch Mando talking to the droid behind the bar. A lot of the patrons inside are eyeing the Mandalorian, and you’d be lying if there wasn’t a dash of pride that hits you. Seeing a Mandalorian is rare enough as it is, so seeing a Mandalorian enter a cantina with someone else who’s not Mandalorian? You’re sure this is the first time anyone in here has seen either.

It’s hard not to stare at him. You have no idea what he looks like underneath that helmet, and there’s not even a part of you that cares. It’s all in his body language. You thought of him as a heartless hunter, a man made of beskar—inside and out, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. He has the kid and cares deeply for him. Mando portrays himself as a warrior, a strong, stoic man who abides by rules and discipline, but he went back for the Child. He came back for you. It’s true, he doesn’t talk much, doesn’t divulge in talking about his past or about his Creed, but there’s a softness to him, a gentleness that you know not many people have seen, and somehow you’ve been lucky enough to see it.

“Care for some company, baby?”

Your gaze shifts from Mando to the foul man standing to your right. His breath reeks of alcohol, and he can barely keep himself upright without swaying in every direction. He’s holding two empty glasses in one hand and a bottle of liquid in the other.

Your eyebrows pull together, and you can’t help the way your nose scrunches up at the smell of him. “No, thanks.” You reply politely. However, there is a stern tone to your voice.

“Oh, come on,” The man stumbles even though he hasn’t even moved. He loses balance and falls into the booth, now just a couple feet away from where you’re sitting. “What’s a gal like you sitting all by yourself on a fine night like tonight, hmmm?”

His hand reaches out to touch your hand, but your reflexes are much faster than his. You grab onto his wrist before it can get too close to you, and you apply pressure on the grip. His face scrunches up, and you know he’s feeling the firmness of your control. “I said no. Now, back off.”

Your hold slacks and you let go, pushing his arm and hearing it land on the table. Sliding out of the booth, you head straight for Mando who’s still standing at the bar. Before you can call out for him, you feel a large hand come down on your bicep and whip you around.

“We just want to show you a good time, bitch.” Another man bellows. You figure he’s with the creep that’s still sitting in your booth. Your body reacts before your mind can process what’s happening. Your hand balls into a fist, reaching far back to gain as much momentum as possible, then comes slamming into the man’s nose. Bone cracks and you can’t believe you just broke that fucker’s nose. He wails in pain, his hands flying to cover his face. Blood is pooling down his hands and onto the floor. Stars, you didn’t know you could hit that hard.

“I’ll kill you, you fucking bitch!” Someone else shouts and they’re running for you, pushing down others in their path. You prepare to fight but a gloved hand grabs your wrist before you can do any more damage. Mando blocks your entire body with his, and the attacker running stops dead in his tracks, almost tripping on his own feet with pure terror in his eyes. Mando doesn’t even have to do anything before all three men are apologizing profusely and retreating as fast as they came down on you. Everyone knows it’s a fool’s errand to pick a fight with a Mandalorian. They’re not called the greatest warriors in the galaxy for no reason.

“We should head back to the ship before we cause any more trouble,” Your voice is lighthearted, but Mando doesn’t respond. Taking his silence as a ‘yes’, you turn on your heel and make your way out of the cantina and onto the street. Walking out of there and feeling the warm breeze against your hot skin feels amazing. The adrenaline is still pumping through your veins and all the tiredness from your body is momentarily wiped away.

Mando finally appears behind you, and you take the lead on the way back to the ship while he continues to stroll behind you. Nightfall had arrived on Mos Eisley, and the only light that’s given are the dimly lit lanterns posted every few metres along the streets. Unless you’re a frequent visitor or a local, one could easily get lost at night. You on the other hand could make your way through the city with your eyes closed.

You don’t have time to process it, but you’re being pulled into an alley. Mando’s grip on your arm is firm, but he makes sure not to hurt you. There’s only one lantern in the backstreet, and you can barely see anything in front of you. He continues to pull you further and further into the alley until you’re sure no one would see either of you even if you were just three feet in front of you.

When he finally lets go of your arm, he’s standing in front of you at arm’s length. You can make out his silhouette only because the moon’s glow reflects off the beskar he’s wearing. Your eyes flicker up and down his body, trying to gauge why he’s doing this, but he gives you absolutely no indication.

“Uh, what are we doing here, Mando?”

“Take the bag off,” He orders, his voice scratching at a dangerously low register. Sliding your arms out of the straps, the bag drops to the floor.

You’re not scared of him, you know he wouldn’t hurt you, but you’re definitely cautious, and you can’t help the fight or flight instinct that’s overcoming you. Ever so slowly, he stalks towards you. Out of impulse, you take a step back and another and another and another until your back hits the wall behind you. Heart thumping in your chest, and your mouth drier than the fucking Tatooine sand dunes, desire pooling in your stomach. His broad chest encircles you. The cuirass grazes against your chest and you can feel the cool beskar against your burning skin. You want to reach out and touch him, but you don’t know where so instead you keep your hands by your thighs, your pussy throbbing so much it hurts. You don’t know what the fuck is happening, but you want more. You need more. The moment in the cockpit doesn’t hold a candle to this. This is something else—needy, desperate.

Mando’s breathing is uneven, that’s about the only thing you can make out. The vocoder distorts his breaths, making them scratchy and rough. Your chest is heaving with how unsteady your own breathing is. You’ve never been this turned on by someone who hasn’t even touched you.

“Fuck,” Mando murmurs, the baritone of his voice dangerously low. Both arms come up and he rests his palms on the wall behind you, fully boxing you in. Your throat is so dry, it feels like its suffocating you. Quick, shaky breaths escape your lips, and Mando is so fucking close to you, you can see the condensation emerging on his helmet from your pants.

“Tell me stop,” He’s basically growing now, the heat between you two becoming too much. It’s desperate, like he’s unable to control himself so he’s asking you to. It might be nightfall, but you’re still out in public, and despite the fact that you both could be caught any second now, it somehow spurs you both on. The thrill and risk of being this intimate frightens and fucking excites you.

Maker, you want it. You’ve wanted him since the moment you laid eyes on him back on Kijimi. Ever since then you’ve been fighting your attraction to him. Mando didn’t seem like the type to fuck quarries then turn them in, so you had made the conclusion that nothing could ever happen between you two. That quickly changed when you were alone in the cockpit. You had felt the shift in your relationship. No longer were you the only one struggling to bottle up the sexual tension that clearly presented itself whenever you were together. He was just as needy as you were.

“I—” You try to speak, but with the blood pounding in your ears, your mind is going blank. You can’t even force a coherent sentence, the heat is so fucking intense, you’re drowning in it.

A leather glove brushes the loose strands of hair out of your face and tucks them behind your ear. You lean into the touch, closing your eyes and letting a moan escape your lips. It’s such a simple gesture, but because Mando—a man who can kill with his bare hands is the one doing it, makes it so comforting.

Since words aren’t coming to your mind, you resort to using your body to communicate. Your hands are still trembling at your sides but you muster as much strength as you can and grab Mando’s hips, pulling them towards you until his body clashes with yours. His cock is rock hard in his pants, and instinctively, you spread your legs so he can slide one of his own between yours, moaning gently at the feeling of his bulge against your pussy.

“Stars…” He mutters, one arm still planted next to your head and the other coming down to your hip and digging his glove into the material of your pants. The helmet comes right up to your ear now, “Do you want me to fuck you in this alley?” It’s dirty, his voice hitting that sweet spot inside of you that nearly has you combusting on the spot. “Someone might see us.” He’s fucking taunting you and whether or not he actually does want you to push him away, there’s a mutual understanding that that won’t be happening.

The corners of your lips curl into a sly smile. You’re not scared to make a scene, to give some passerby a filthy show. Your next words come out slow, savoring every single moment you can right now. “Then let’s give them a good show.”

The noise that comes through the helmet is animalistic, somewhere between a mewl and a fucking growl. Grabbing both your hips, he flips you around so you’re facing the wall, you palms come flying up to stop yourself from smacking face first into it. With one hand still on your hip, he uses his other hand to hold your stomach and pull you closer to him, your back arching and bending over slightly, his cock lining up perfectly along your backside. A moan slips from your lips and that just spurs him off. The hand on your stomach trails down, cupping your sex over your pants. Maker, you can feel your slick dripping down your thigh from how much this is turning you on. Distant voices pass you by, but you don’t care. Nothing else matters right now, not when Mando is holding you like this, touching you the way you thought was only possible in your daydreams.

The grip on your hip slackens, lifting your tunic just enough to expose soft skin underneath then wrapping his arm around your torso to keep you glued to him. A thumb plays with the waistband of your pants, a delicious taunt that only makes you whine with anticipation.

“Do you want me to touch you?” Mando snarls in your ear. He’s resting his head on your shoulder, the metal digging into your neck and cheek. It’s a little uncomfortable but you’re too entranced to care about anything else other than him touching you wherever he wants. You moan helplessly against him but his hand doesn’t move, just continues to graze the exposed skin near your waistband. He’s relentless, continuing his slow assault, waiting for you to find the words to speak.

“Please…” You choke out.

“Please, what?” He sneers gingerly. “You need to use your words.”

It comes as a shock just how submissive you are. You’ve always considered yourself a dominant when it came to others, but somehow Mando’s completely flipped the script on you. You aren’t in control, you can barely throw two words together without needing to catch your breath, but you’d be lying if this wasn’t the most turned on you’ve ever been in your life.

“Yes…please touch me,” You cry out, shifting your hips so you can feel his cock against your behind.

“Good girl,” He praises before dipping his hand down inside your trousers and cupping your sex. He gathers your slick around his gloved fingers and begins rubbing circles over your clit. “Fuck, you’re so wet,” Letting out a satisfied moan, the baritone of his voice pierces through you, your pussy gushing at the sound. You moan so loudly you’re positive anyone nearby could hear you.

“Shhh,” Mando whispers into your ear as the pressure on your clit become more intense. Your body is on fire, the heat in your belly driving you to climax as his fingers continue their assault on your pussy.

There’s a faint sound of static, but you try to push it out of your memory. You don’t want him to stop, not when you’re on the verge of orgasm.

“…Mando? Mando, are you there?” A female voice pokes through the commlink on Mando’s vambrace. His movements still and an irritated sigh scratches through his helmet before he pulls his hand from your trousers, then taking a couple steps back so you can turn around to face him, leaning back into the wall awkwardly. Lifting an arm to the helmet, he presses one of the buttons on his forearm.

“Yes, Peli?” His voice is surprisingly steady, considering two seconds ago he was fucking your pussy with his hand.

“Uh… The kid is having some kind of breakdown,” The radio causes her voice to come out rough, and you can hear a little bit of a disturbance in the background. “I think he misses you and his way of telling me that to tear my hangar apart!”

“We’re on our way,” He says into his wrist, not bothering to wait for her response and heading back for the main road.

You continue to lean against the wall for a couple of seconds, trying to process how this all happened so quickly. One minute you were walking back to the Crest with Mando, then he was pulling you into an alley for what you thought was going to be the best sex of your life, and now he’s already heading back to the ship like nothing even happened.

When Mando looks over his shoulder and realizes you’re not walking behind him, he stops and waits for you. “Are you coming?” He asks, a hint of annoyance in his tone.

“I wish,” You mumble to yourself before kicking off the wall behind you to stand up straight. Bending over to grab the straps of your bag and throwing it over your shoulders, your feet drag as you walk, letting disappointment engulf you. This was not how you wanted the night to end.

And the walk back is…a little awkward. Neither of you speak, but you continue to walk side by side. Your arms are crossed against your chest, and you keep your eyes peeled to the ground. Every now and then, you peak upwards to get a glimpse of Mando who’s walking on your left, but his visor stays glued to what’s in front of him—his head never once turning to look down at you. It’s infuriating, really. You’re sulking, maybe even acting a little childish, but it had been weeks since you’ve been touched by another person and the one night Mando finally decides to make a move, you get rudely interrupted. Not to mention your panties are fucking soaked and the walk back is only making you more uncomfortable. Your eyes shift to Mando’s right hand and a shrewd smile smears onto your face. Your slick is on Mando gloves. That realization is enough to turn you on. Hopefully whatever the kid is up to won’t take too much time to sort out, and then maybe you two can finish your little encounter in the alley.

When you reach the hangar, you don’t see anything out of place. To be fair, Peli’s hangar is always a mess so to you, it all seems normal. Peli stands at the foot of the ramp, looking a little rougher than usual. There are specks of grease on her skin, and her curly hair sticks out in all kinds of directions.

“What the hell have you been feeding this kid since the last time I saw you?” She challenges, storming towards you both.

“I don’t…” Mando begins to say, but Peli interrupts, a hand shooting up before he can finish his sentence. “The kid was full of energy, and I mean full. He messed with my droids, did this weird little hand thing and my bolts started floating in the air!” Her arms waving around as she tells the story. “Floating! Did you know he could do that?”

Mando shifts his weight to one leg, both his hands resting on his utility belt. “Yes.”

Peli scoffs. “Well, a heads up would have been nice.”

“Where is he now?” Your tone comes out more aggressive than you intended, but given the circumstances of your relationship, you don’t believe niceties are essential.

Peli scowls at you, before turning her attention to Mando and answering the question. “I was somehow able to put him to bed while we waited for you. He’s in the ship.” Her hand coming up to point behind her towards the hull of the Crest. Mando places a hand on her shoulder—not the same one he used on you thank the maker, and thanks her sincerely. He explains to her that you were both unable to find any leads but will try again tomorrow.

He climbs the ramp to check on the kid, and you follow suit, but not before shooting giving Peli one last look, your eyes piercing into hers with invisible vibroblades. She returns the favor and turns on her heel, heading to her office.

Once inside the ship, your eyes feel unbearably heavy and the fatigue hits you all at once. In the last few days, you’ve probably only gotten eight hours of sleep—more like a series of power naps that could be considered eight hours when you bundle them all up, and now your bones ache, craving the sweet release that is rest—but first? You need a shower. To clean off all the dirt from the sand that’s passed through the air and onto your skin, and to clean up the mess that’s between your thighs.

Mando checks on the kid who is right where Peli said he was—in the cubbyhole they both sleep in. “Hey kid,” he says softly while lightly caressing the hammock he threw together for the kid to sleep in.

“I’m gonna freshen up,” You announce as you head for the fresher. Mando only tilts in your direction and tips the helmet down, giving you only the slightest indication that he understood you.

It’s a bit of a struggle to get undressed in the fresher. The space is just so kriffing small, it’s a wonder how Mando is able to do it. When all your clothes are off, you toss them behind you and angle your body underneath the hose. Cool water hits your tired skin and you recoil from the sudden freezing temperature. After a few seconds though, the water warms up into a delightfully warm hug, and your tense shoulders finally relax. The water pressure is a little harsher than what you’ve gotten used to, but it feels nice on your back. It feels like a massage, pushing down on your muscles, releasing the tautness that had built up throughout the day. Looking down at the drain, you notice a red hue to the water, and your brows pull together tightly, eyes scanning your body to see where the blood could be coming from. As you begin to inspect your hands, you notice three small gashes on your left hand where your knuckles are. Your memory flashes back to the cantina where you struck that man square in the nose. A chuckle echoes in the walls of the fresher as you remember the fear smeared on his face right before you connected your fist with his nose.

Water continues to cascade on your sun-kissed skin as you grab the bar of soap resting on the ledge and begin to scrub every inch of Mos Eisley grime off your frame. Naturally, your mind wanders—as one’s mind usually does while taking a shower. Closing your eyes, you imagine the fingers tracing your skin are big, leather gloved hands instead. Dancing across your chest, goosebumps forming under your skin as the touch shifts down between your breasts, to your stomach and rests in the middle of your thighs.

You shouldn’t—you really shouldn’t do this. Not when Mando is right outside the fresher, not when he would definitelyhear you if you got yourself to come, but then again maybe you should let him hear you. The image of him hearing you moan as you bring yourself to orgasm in his fresher, his ship is enough of an incentive for you to bring your hand up to your pussy and slowly dragging your fingers between your wet folds. It doesn’t take long before your fucking soaking, slick mixed with water. Fighting the whimpers that are caught in your throat, you bite down on your bottom lip, and lean against the metal wall to steady yourself as you fuck yourself to orgasm.

Even as the sound of water masks some of obscene noises you’re making, if Mando’s still somewhere nearby, he’ll hear you. Two fingers rub against your swollen clit, and you convince yourself they’re fingers covered in brown leather. The heat in your stomach coils, your orgasm bubbling to the surface. It feels so fucking wrong and it feels so fucking right. Thank the Maker for the wall keeping you upright because your knees are quaking, the flashes of pure ecstasy making it damn near impossible to keep yourself from crying out. You’re seeing stars, the sensation starting to become too intense, you’re on the verge of coming, speeding up your rhythm so you can finally feel its sweet release. Your orgasm rips through you, white-hot pleasure punches the moan lodged in your throat, unable to catch it in time before it echoes through the walls of the fresher. There’s no way he didn’t hear that, but you really don’t give a shit.

Your hand drops to your side as your body rides out the aftershocks of your orgasm, chest heaving and knees buckling. The steam from the water mixed with your labored breathing post-orgasm makes it way too difficult to breathe. You feel like you’re suffocating, and now that you’re fully relaxed, the exhaustion really taking its toll on you.

Grabbing the new garments you bought from one of the kind gentleman, you slip them on and push the button to open the fresher door. The cool air from the Crest is a breath of fresh air, and you let as much air fill your lungs as humanly possible, taking notice that the ship is dimly lit. You don’t immediately see any sign of Mando, so you poke your head to left, wondering if he might be with the Child. The entrance is shut, and assume that means he’s gone to sleep. You take to the ladder, and use whatever strength you have left—and it’s not much, to climb the rungs to the cockpit. Sleeping in the chair isn’t the most comfortable for your neck or back or any part of your body for that matter, but it’s the only place you think to sleep in, therefore until Mando tells you otherwise, you’ll continue to sleep in this kriffing chair.

It’s when you reach the top of the ladder that you notice the tip of chrome poking through the headrest of the pilot’s chair.

Mando.

Keeping your movements as quietly as you can in the off chance he’s sleeping, you manage to slither in your seat and really try to get comfortable, but it’s truly impossible to do that so you give up quickly and lean a little in the chair, your butt touching the edge of the seat, and your back at an angle. It’s probably worse for your back to be in this position but you refuse to sit up straight in the seat, you definitely won’t be able to sleep that way. Your arms stretch across your chest and let out a deep breath through your lips before closing your eyes.

“By the way,” A deep, rough voice cuts through the silence in the cockpit. Your eyes shoot open and your breath catches in your throat, hanging onto every word Mando says. “The fresher isn’t soundproof.”

Your body sinks back into the chair, cheeks burning hot with equal parts embarrassment and satisfaction. There’s no point in trying to come up with a witty response, because you shamelessly wanted him to hear you. Shutting your eyes again, it’s damn near impossible to hide the devilish grin that’s smeared all over your smug face.

@1800-fight-me @tillytheslytherin @ayamenimthiriel 💛💛💛💛

#the Mandalorian #Din Djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #Din Djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #angst #tw: violence #reader insert #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin #slow burn #we are one when together #fics

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maryeve-the-bitch · 3 years

Text

The Spring

Fruk week 2021

day 3: power /magic

Words: 1,254

Note: I'm gonna do the nyos twice. Idc I do what I want.

Sitting against a rock, Elizabeth weakly wiped her mouth from the blood after some soldiers attacked her. They thought she would die from her wounds so they let her suffer by herself. They thought right. If she didn’t find a healer willing to aid her or something to give her strength to use her magic again, she would be as good as dead. She was bleeding internally. They probably broke one or two ribs, those bastards. She split some more blood and took a deep breath. If only she had access to water, she could reduce the taste of blood and wash her wounds a bit. She could barely move, let alone stand and walk to find some water.

She also knew that she was far away from any civilization somewhere in the south east of France. She thought she could escape the authorities of her own country as she was wanted for sorcery. The French also found out about her. The English probably told them, those wankers. They were always at war and would destroy each other, but they managed to work together to exterminate the witches. If Elizabeth would find a way to get out of this alive, she promised herself to seek revenge on those soldiers and the kings.

Soon enough, her body weakened and she couldn’t fight the will to stay awake anymore. Her eyelids slowly closed and she fell asleep as fast as the French soldiers took to knock her out.

When she regained consciousness, the first thing Elizabeth noticed was how she felt some strange, but good tingling though her whole body. She could hear a waterfall only a few feet away and part of her body laid in the warm water. It was as though the water eased her pain away the longer she stayed in it. She had no idea how she ended up in this place or if it was a dream. Everything felt so peaceful contrary to moments before she fell asleep. Surely it was a dream or her imagination. Or she was going insane due to her intense pain and was agonizing. She was almost scared to open her eyes and realise that her pain was as a matter of fact worse than before. Perhaps she died in her sleep and this place was the afterlife.

When she took a deep breath, she felt the fresh air going through her nostrils and through her lungs. She felt her hair moving in the water softly and touching her shoulders. Elizabeth just noticed a melodic humming, very soft, she could barely hear it through the water sounds. It was somehow comforting.

She took another deep breath before opening her eyes. She firstly noticed blue lights flowing around like small fairies or fireflies. Then the ceiling of what looked like a cave or grotto of some sort as it was covered in rock and ivy.

"Bonjour Elizabeth." A soft voice called from her left side.

The witch turned her head and saw a brown curly haired lady wearing nothing but her own hair covering her nipples. The lady shined and radiated beauty and Elizabeth thought she was simply stunning. She forgot how pretty women can be and still thought all this was a dream and could wake up at any moment.

"Bonjour." Elizabeth replied. She pushed herself up so she could sit and register all the new information from her senses.

"Are you feeling better?" The nude lady asked in french. She kneeled beside her.

“Who are you? How do you know my name? Am I dead?” Elizabeth asked after she came back to reason.

The lady chuckled.

“So many questions. You are not dead. I am the goddess of this spring called la Fontaine de la guérison.¹” She answered. “I brought you here to heal you from your wounds.”

The witch didn't reply right away and looked around the spring she was sitting in. The water itself seemed to transport energy as some lights seemed to be moving inside.

“Why?” While her questions were answered, Elizabeth became more and more confused with the answers.

“Why did I bring you here?” The goddess asked. When the witch nodded, she caressed Elizabeth’s cheek with the back of her hand. The touch felt both soft and hydrating to the witch and gave her more tingles. “I heard your distress and I wanted to help you. No one visits my spring anymore.” The goddess got closer and whispered near Elizabeth’s face. “I was so lonely.”

The witch visibly blushed. On one hand she was so not used to getting touched like that and had been craving any kind of physical touch that wasn’t violence of any kind. On the other hand, as though she wasn’t used to it, it made her uncomfortable and awkward, not sure how to react.

When the goddess saw her reaction, she stepped back and apologised.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s hard to be comfortable when you’re naked in front of me.” Elizabeth stated.

“Oh? Am I that hideous?” The goddess asked, offended and a little bit upset.

“No! No! On the contrary...you are gorgeous… very beautiful indeed. I’m ..not used to it.”

“I don’t understand. Used to what?”

“Seeing the most perfect woman I've ever seen naked and touching me.”

“Oh well I don’t wear clothes like humans, but I can hide in the water.” As the goddess said that, she dove into the spring and disappeared completely.

“Is that better?” The voice of the goddess asked.

“Not really.”

The goddess revealed herself from the waterfall and sighed.

“I don’t understand humans.”

“I can keep you company for a while. I doubt the king will find me here so I’m safe and you seem nice. I’ve never met a goddess before.”

“Oh well. I’m only a small one, but I do appreciate your company. You can stay as long as you want.”

“Do you have a name or is the goddess of the spring your only name?”

“Ah.” The goddess laughed. “No one ever asked me my name before. I don’t know if I remember. But I’d like to be called Marianne.”

“Marianne it is. It’s very beautiful.” Elizabeth smiled softly.

Marianne smiled back happily.

"I believe you'd be fully healed by now."

"Yes. I do feel better now. Thanks to you."

"What is next for you after visiting me?"

"I don't know. I simply try to survive." Elizabeth answered. "Do you know any place that doesn't prosecute witches?"

"Well any sacred place like here. Not all the gods or goddesses are nice though. But we like witches. They are the ones who still believe in us. Other humans have lost faith." Marianne's smile turned upside down.

"I'm sorry" was all Elizabeth had found to say.

"I fear one day no one will believe in us and we either will disappear or be lonely until the end of time. I am not sure which is worse." The goddess continued.

As Elizabeth listened to Marianne reveal her feelings, she found herself feeling connected to the goddess in a way. Both had lived a miserable life. The goddess' one was to give but never receive anything in return. Whereas Elizabeth's was to run away and never trust anyone and fight for herself. She wanted to stay here forever. She never thought about it before because she never had anyone that she spent more than one night with, but for once, she felt she had someone she could trust in.

¹ la Fontaine de la guérison : The healing fountain

#frukweek2021 #frukweek #hws nyo england #aph nyo england #nyo england #hws nyo france #aph nyo france #nyo france #nyotalia #magic au #nyo fruk #fruk #no proof read #we post the first draft like the finnish in russia #i gave up on french but all convo are in french #if you get great fairy fountain fron loz vibes i love you and you're absolutely right #i couldn't find a right ending 😭 id have continue it but i must stop

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hajimewhore · 4 years

Text

Body Swap 👫 (Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader) ➸Rated T, fem!Reader, 1.6k words ➷Humor, fluff, awkwardness ofc ➷ Masterlist, Part 1, ✈Part 2

Thankfully, Hajime’s parents had busied themselves in the morning. Probably out grocery shopping, he’d mentioned off hand.

With Hajime the one blindfolding you now, you can finally place yourself in his shoes, an uneasy humiliation enveloping your bones.

“We can’t exactly dress each other everyday for school, can we?”

You mumble, as Hajime lets you tug the loose tee overhead. It seems he wanted little to do with this dress up game scenario, while simultaneously attempting to save himself from the embarrassment of you catching an eyeful of his junk.

He pulls off the blindfold and stares with an uncomfortable expression and blush. You’ve been doing a lot of blushing today since... well, since you woke up in each other’s bodies.

“I guess not. But I’ll respect your body, don’t worry.”

He huffs, folding his arms across his chest.

A short gasp comes from his lips, clearly not used to having a set of breasts, and he pulls his arms away quicker than you’ve probably ever moved yourself. Hajime awkwardly settles for resting his hands at his hips, and you stifle the snort that threatens to escape.

“I trust you, Hajime. Don’t worry. And same goes for me! I won’t eat junk food before bed, and I’ll work out a lot too!”

You announce while fist pumping the air, and he rolls his eyes.

“You better. Come on, let’s go before my mom and dad get back.”

A lot of changes had to be made to accommodate your... new lifestyle.

You decided it was best to swap phones, considering you each have the same model and should probably be conversing with your classmates and friends with some sort of vague continuity.

You also had a rather short lived and awkward conversation about bathroom time and changing.

And on the way to the park, you discussed the people you each talked with the most in class, how to talk to them, and to take notes properly.

You’re thorough if anything, trying to make this awful situation as easy as you can possibly make it.

“This is exhausting... and we haven’t even gotten to play volleyball yet.”

You bounce the volleyball in the grass, huffing at the torture this body swap is turning out to be.

“At least you can spike, and have a mean serve. It would have been way worse for me if you were a libero.”

At least Hajime is looking on the bright side.

“We just have to get used to our bodies.”

You attempt to reason alongside him, amping each other up.

By the time the sun sets, you’re both panting in the grass next to each other. All former encouragements and hype lost, replaced by the dread of the coming Monday.

“We’re so fucked, I’m not used to being this tall, or having these limbs.”

You wave your arms around in the grass for emphasis, turning to gaze at your partner in this disaster.

“I feel like I’ve been launched back to middle school, it’s hard to get used to being short again.”

Hajime hums in agreement.

“I’m not that short! You’re just tall!”

“Not that tall!”

He grimaces, and you think you hear him mutter something about one more centimeter.

Before you can delve back to wallowing in misery, Hajime speaks up again,

“Whatever, we actually started doing pretty good by the end. It’s not the level we’re usually at, but I’m sure we can fake it in practice well enough. Chalk it up to being sick or something. We’ll be back to normal soon enough.”

Sitting upright, he musters a confident look that warms your chest. You’re glad he’s being optimistic, pushing away the negative thoughts that keep rearing up.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Now let’s get food, I’m starved.”

“Agedashi tofu is the best after practice.”

He’s gleaming, and you think it looks more natural on your face than the stern countenance that seems trademark to Hajime. Though, you do miss the rare occasions you got too see that expression on his normal face... so you make a mental note to take plenty of happy face selfies while you’re in this body.

You can’t help the soft laugh, imagining all the faces you could make in Hajime’s body he wouldn’t be caught dead making normally. When he eyes you warily, you shake your head and respond before he catches on to your plan.

“The katsudon here is way better, you’re crazy.”

You grin, mouth watering as you bring a pork cutlet to your lips.

When you bite in, it turns out to be less satisfying than you remembered.

‘Weird, this place has really good katsudon.’

When you peer over at Hajime, he seems to be sharing a similar dilemma.

“How is it?”

You tilt your head up, gazing cautiously at him.

“It’s... okay.”

He frowns, can he seriously not enjoy agedashi tofu right now? Or was it just made bad?

“Right. Same here.”

The two of you pause, stewing for a second at the disappointment of your favorite meals, before both having the same idea to swap plates.

When you bite into your newly swapped dishes, you both simultaneously break out into wide grins.

“Whaaat, this is so good!”

“’katsudon’s not so bad either.”

You burst out into laughter,

“I guess our tastes have been swapped too.”

“I was beginning to think this would just be a nightmare. But there’s some fun things involved.”

Hajime hums, taking another hearty bite from the katsudon. You smile at his enthusiasm, before returning to your dish.

You continue to idly chatter about things that might be important to know, before walking home together.

When you reach the end of the street, Hajime almost makes the mistake of turning to the Iwaizumi residence. When he freezes, you realize you were equally ready to freely waltz into your own house.

You both awkwardly switch sides on the sidewalk, silently acknowledging the blunder with a light laugh.

“I’ll text you if I think of anything else. Have a good night,” you pause, “Y/N!”

You wink at him, chuckling at the sour expression. If you thought referring to yourself as Hajime was weird, it’s even more unsettling to call yourself by name.

Hajime rolls his eyes before waving goodbye.

“Yeah yeah... Hajime. See you tomorrow.”

The interaction certainly is odd, but you laugh with a grin nonetheless. Despite the fucked up situation, it’s kind of cool to have a secret to share with Hajime.

You just hope it isn’t permanent.

When Hajime turns to the your household, he feels the nervousness come back full force.

The two of you spent all day with each other, not really worried about a stranger’s perception of them.

But now he has to deal with the people closest to you, your parents. And he’s actually quite fond of your parents, they’ve always treated him like the son they never had (as well as Oikawa), but he’s not exactly looking forward to living out their wish for a son vicariously through you.

He swings open the door, kicking his shoes off before stepping inside.

“I’m home!”

‘Remember to be enthusiastic, and keep that RBF in check!’ he hears your insistent reminder echo in his mind, almost catching himself scowling.

“Welcome back darling! Did you eat?”

He hears your mother’s voice from the kitchen.

“I had something to eat with Hajime.”

He sweats a little, your mom is oddly calculated, always in tune with your emotions. Sometimes even his, but there’s no way she’d figure out what was going on, right?

“Good. If you get hungry later, there’s left overs.”

He calls out a thanks, almost sighing in relief, looks like the panic was for nothing.

Hajime casually (yet so, so, eagerly) heads for the stairs.

“Where are you going? Aren’t you going to say hi to Tooru? He and his mother came for dinner!”

WHAT.

“Y/N-chan! You and Iwa-chan were hanging out today? We’re you practicing volleyball?”

As if on cue, Oikawa rounds the corner and cuts Hajime off at the stairs, eyeing the athletic attire he’s wearing,

“I have something I want to practice more, you should’ve texted me.”

He huffs, arms folded as he leans against the stairway’s frame. Clearly a trick, Oikawa blew up both of your phones all day long despite being told you were busy. Hajime resists the urge to scowl at the backhanded comment. Brat.

Wait a second... how exactly do you talk to Oikawa again? Hajime should know, he’s spent a majority of his life with the two of you, but he’s currently drawing blanks.

He seems to have wracked his brain a little too long for a normal interaction, as Oikawa’s eyeing him again with an inquisitive look.

“Sorry... Tooru. You were sleeping in, and we both just happened to wake up early. Besides, you shouldn’t be practicing so much.”

He’s glad he didn’t let the ‘Shittykawa’ slip, that wouldn’t have been on brand for you at all. Out of habit though, he did punch Tooru in the arm.

“Yow! So mean, why are you hitting me?!”

Oikawa cries out, looking utterly scandalized as he rubs the sore spot on his arm.

“Because you deserve it.”

Hajime rolls his eyes, hopefully you won’t become aware of this interaction or he’ll get an earful from you. He’s still slightly convinced he’s an innocent bystander affected by some sort of cosmic punishment on Oikawa Tooru.

“Are you mad at me?!”

Hajime ignores Oikawa’s cry of complaint, jogging up the stairs. It’s hard being you, he grimaces as he beelines for the safety your room.

Finally in the comfort of privacy, he collapses into your sheets with a sigh of relief.

It could barely be considered a conversation with your mother, and Oikawa, but he’s already feeling mentally exhausted from the social exchange.

And tomorrow marks the start of the school week. Great.

Hajime slumps into your absurd amount pillows (seriously, you only need one). If he feels a little disappointed that he can’t recognize your scent anymore, he certainly doesn’t admit it, and definitely doesn’t entertain the intrusive thought longer than a moment.

A/N: I’m actually having so much fun with this au it’s adsklag;hj, I just like to watch my faves suffer in a chaotic mess I can not lie

Masterlist, Part 1, ✈Part 2, Part 3

#hqradiostation #haikyuu!!#haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime/reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader

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charmspoint · 4 years

Text

As much as I praised Talentless Nana and it’s handling of Nana, trauma she’s recovering from and the redemption she’s undertaking, I do have some problems of how it handles it’s other important character, this funky boy right here.

Lots of ranting and spoilers under the cut.

Now I do like Kyouya a lot. I think he’s a perfect blend of straightlaced serious and fun and quirky. One of his core motivations being making friends, where all of his attempts are at the same time so terribly awkward and so touchingly sincere, makes him potentially a very interesting and relatable character to have on board.

I say potentially because Kyouya himself is very underutilized both in the show and in the manga. I made a meme about it before, remember that. Most of my love for the characters comes from discussing the show with my brother and developing him in my fic, not from the actual story itself.

At first I assumed Kyouya is supposed to be a deuteragonist, an equal to Nana, mostly because of how much he and Nana were and are compared to L and Light (I might talk about that later but for now: It’s a hard comparison to call because ye I can see why but Talentless Nana is more about the characters while Death Note is more about the conflict so it’s mind games aren’t really comparable at all, Nana and Kyouya are more interesting and loveable than L and Light combined, Misa is the best character in Death Note.) But rn I can’t help but feel that Kyouya isn’t so much a deuteragonist as just an overly emphasized extra, maybe a relic from when the author did intend to make Talentless Nana more about the conflict before switching it over to more of a character driven story. Either way at this point I feel like Michiru, catboy Jin and Moe all have more development and backstory than Kyouya and Moe wasn’t even introduced in the anime. When you add to that Mr. bet you thought you’d seen the last of me, it kind of gets ridiculous.

Like there’ve been multiple times in the manga when Kyouya would show up and I’d have this moment where I just remembered ‘oh this guy is here too, he’s a character’, like I’d literally just forget he was in the story because he wouldn’t be there for the longest time and then would randomly show up when it was time to solve a murder. Like the author just remembered ‘oh yeah I’m supposed to use this guy too’.

And it’s really a shame because Kyouya has so much potential and it’s just never explored. Like his whole motivation to find friends? He does! And it’s just sorta…brushed off. Like when he introduced Fuuko to Nana as his friend, with Nana remarking she already met Fuuko here:

Like you can tell he is genuinely super excited to finally have a friend and with a good reason. Despite being technically on the side of good, through most of the story Kyouya is a lot less popular than Nana with their classmates, sometimes even suffering ostracization because they are starting to see him as a conspiracy theorist that ruins all the fun. While they respect him for his intellect they are quick to turn on him and his own awkward and blunt nature doesn’t help here at all. Nana said it herself when talking to Yuuka:

Nana presents herself as a sweet, caring, extroverted girl. She acts cute and clumsy in social situations but is trusted enough to be deemed Leader and her classmates genuinely believe that she is working herself to the bone to protect them. She is also heavily endorsed by Michiru who is the living definition of a cinnamon roll, too good for this world, too pure. On the opposite end, Kyouya is very stoic, sometimes even scary looking, He gives of an unfriendly air as soon as he arrives, he’s socially awkward, he doesn’t know how to talk to or connect with people, he can be too blunt and insensitive and he seems to have a habit of picking on the most popular girl in school, calling her out for horrible murders. And he seems to be always be proven wrong which cements him as someone overly suspicious, as someone who just has a bone to pick with Nana. As someone unlikable.

So when Kyouya, who’s been rejected by the majority for most of the story despite his best efforts to help, protect and befriend them, FINALLY gets a friend, finally gets someone who fully believes in him and tells him she will follow where he leads, someone who is willing to go through his stoic front because she truly believes he has the right answers and he’s doing the right thing…you’d think that would be given a bit more weight. You’d think we’d see some changes in Kyouya, a bit more focus on him, a story unfold. We don’t, not really. We see Fuuko following him around and helping him and they even get a solo scene together where Kyouya says he will tell her the weakness of his talent but then it…cuts off. Like ooo must preserve the mystery, forget about the fact that we’ve known this character for almost 40 chapters and we are long overdue any new information about him. A good way to develop him is dropped right in our laps but nothing happens with it aside from Kyouya being overexcited to call Fuuko his friend whenever he can, which is admittedly very cute.

That’s not even the worst arc that’s been left dangling for him, remember his missing sister? You know, his biggest motivation to come to the island in the first place? I honestly wouldn’t blame you if you forgot, because that plot is still stuck basically in the same place where it was introduced in like ch 2 or 3 (out of 56 mind you). Like he doesn’t go anywhere with that, at all, we don’t even see him looking for her. When they burn all those bodies Nana thinks about how he might have missed his shot because his sister might have been amongst them, but that’s never confirmed or denied. My absolutely favorite set of panels on that is this one where Kyouya looks like he himself genuinely forgot he had a sister to look for.

Only to immediately be interrupted by some shenanigans. This hint at conflict doesn’t even come to be, like later Kyouya is packing up completely normal and he leaves the island completely normal without any seen resistance or last ditch attempt to look for his sister. It’s like he simply just forgot she existed again. Like at least his wish to make friends is brought up often, I stg Nana mentions his sister more times than he does.

Again, his primary reason for even being involved in this plot, is not given any sort of development or even focus.

And like when I talk about this I usually say smtng like; Well he and Nana are slowly getting closer and are starting to look like they will form a team so maybe then he will get development. But goddamn Nanao got more development and even a flashback, completely outside of Nana’s knowledge or influence, and he’s been presumed dead since ch 1.

Not to mention that the lack of Kyouya doing much of anything aside from what he’s strictly needed for leaves his and Nana’s relationship very lacking to say the least. Like I get the idea, they are supposed to start out as enemies and eventually grow closer and team up to defeat the real bad guy and that’s a perfectly solid idea, I love these two, I love how they bounce off each other. It sure would be even better if they, you know, actually got closer. Like we barely see them interact outside of immediate rivalry and while the times they work together to discover a killer that isn’t Nana are very welcome, they are also a far cry of what we should have gotten by now. We really get no sense of Nana starting to understand Kyouya better or him starting to understand her better. When he suggests a team up, it’s because that’s what comic book characters did, not because he came to understand her better as a person and grew a trust with her that made him want to start that partnership. And again it’s endearing that he mirrors his actions towards what he sees in a comic book but also…they REALLY needed that level of trust and connection they just never got.

I really hope that this gets better, especially now that Nana is making moves to confess her crimes and is working side by side with Kyouya instead of against him. I really hope we get more on him , his backstory, his talent, his sister, I’d take his preferred idol at this point. But until that happens it’s really hard not to feel like so much about Kyouya has simply been wasted and neglected by the author.

#talentless nana #munou na nana #kyouya onodera #lucy rants #talentless nana manga spoilers

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bangchanstudio · 4 years

Text

Never Have I Ever | Changbin (3/?)

pairing: seo changbin x reader (fem)

genre: university au, awkward friends to ? something more? smut, house party

tw: sex, attempted date rape (spiked drink), mild panic attack, unprotected sex, penetration, cursing, praising, mild dom!changbin kink, oral sex (fem;receiving), fighting?

word count: 6.8k

ch.one | ch.two

synopsis: you’re forced to face Changbin after ghosting him for weeks, and things happen.

note: I suffered A LOT writing this so please SUFFER WITH ME. Shout out to sera aka @seraplantery for thirsting over changbin with me and his new fresh undercut as i wrote this 🥺 you the real one✨ again, i would love it if you let me know what you thought about this etc. i would love to interact more with those you read my fics!! 🥰 feel free to drop ideas or suggestions/requests in my inbox~ ps. if you would like to be added to the tag list for ✨NHIE✨ please let me know via inbox/message ❤️

taglist: @seraplantery @chang-binnie @synnocence @lordseochangbin

“Spill it, sister.” The way Hyunjin crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently reminded you of your mother when you were in high school, waiting for a confession after sneaking out to a party the night before with the guys.

Suddenly, the ramen hanging out of your mouth that linked to your chopsticks seemed one hundred times more interesting than looking at Jinnie. He was good at seeing through your lies but mostly because you were such a bad liar.

When your only response was a shrug, he let out an exaggerated sigh. “You’ve been acting sus for days now.”

“How?” You asked, still avoiding his gaze, sipping on your straw.

“Well, for starters, you’ve stopped pestering us about what happened at the party.” He eyed you up and down. “Did you remember?”

“Just that we watched a hot ass morning sex video.” You said wiggling your eyebrows. “Really, there’s nothing going on.”

That was a lie.

The only thing that was running through your mind most of the time these days was Changbin. Since that night you went to see him you couldn’t stop thinking about his touch. His skin. His lips. The way he tasted. Changbin got your number from Chan, but you were avoiding him. He wasn’t one to chase or push either, so when you didn’t reply to his first message he didn’t send another.

Chan already interrogated you about the night he walked in on you blowing Changbin, and asked why you haven’t talked to him. You could only assume Changbin told Chan you were ghosting him, and Chan knowing you like the back of his hand decided to mediate. You were grateful, because he never judged you for being an asshole or ghosting people. You were always like this and you had been told by many people that you were “too much”, but not Chan. That’s what made you love him and run to him. Even when you didn’t run to him because you were too self-conscious and didn’t want to annoy him, he’d go to you. Talking with Chan helped you realize you didn’t know anything at all and that it would all be okay regardless.

“You know what your problem is, (Y/N)?” Chan started two weeks after you went to see Changbin at his apartment.

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me.” You were laying upside down on your couch, feet hanging over the backrest next to Chan who was sitting upright typing away on his laptop.

“You avoid thinking about your feelings. Instead of trying to face them head on and figure them out, you just run away.”

Ouch. The truth of his words stung.

“Just slap me next time will ya?” He rolled his eyes at your remark.

“I’m serious.” He closed his laptop placing it on the coffee table before giving you his full attention taking your hand in his as if you were a child. “Look, you know I love you. I care about you and I want to see you happy. That’s why we need to figure this out together. Tell me, when you look at Changbin, what do you feel?”

That was a tough question to answer. “Do I really have to think about that?” You whined.

“Yes.” He said sternly in his dad voice. “We’re going to figure this out together because if not you’re just going to continue this vicious cycle forever and I won’t stand by it.”

Sighing, you closed your eyes trying to find something, anything that you could put into words.

The image of seeing Changbin for the first in over a year at Seungmin’s house party at the start of summer came rushing back. You were sitting at the bar table in the wide living room of Seungmin’s mansion in a champagne slip dress and red lips talking your half tipsy ass off with your girl friend when she gasped at a hot guy who walked in. The place was overflowing with bodies, the heat made your skin slightly damp and the music was loud. There was a mixture of cigarette smoke and the smell of booze flowing in the air, basically it smelled like a good time.

“Who’s that hottie coming in with Felix?” She had asked shouting over the DJ and pointing at the door with her free hand, drink in the other.

Your heart had stopped and the smile you had plastered on your face slowly faded as you saw Changbin walk in, leather jacket, hood up, hat covering his features, but you knew it was him. He was scanning the crowed, high-fiving and bro hugging Seungmin and Minho as they found him. Minho had turned to find you amongst the crowd and nodded your way, Changbin found you but turned away. He never went up to you that night and you didn’t either.

“I feel sad.” You admitted, voice only slightly above a whisper.

“That’s good, (Y/N). That’s a good place to start.”

[three days later]

“Another party?”

Everyone was gathered around in your apartment eating your food and playing video games.

“Yeah, my parents are going overseas again so it’s the perfect time. I think we all could use a good old fashion house party.” Seungmin, respectable Virgo though he may be, was notorious for his house parties. He always had the best DJ’s, the best drinks and most importantly a big house.

“God knows we need to let loose, especially (Y/N).” Felix smirked over at you wiggling his eyebrows, blocking the pillow you threw at him.

“Besides, it’ll be funner this time since Changbin is back and we’ve been hanging out.” The room went quiet at Jeongin’s comment, just the video game sounding in the background “Oh… was I not suppose to say that?”

“Just focus on your game the grown ups are talking.” Hyunjin hushed the younger boy. “Everything is set to go we just need to go shopping.”

“We?” Everything sounded amazing except parties meant socializing, dressing up and being in public. You had a love hate relationship with parties, about as much as you had a love hate relationship with everything else in life.

[]

The weekend came faster than you could have hoped for and that mean the party did too. All you could think about was how you planned to avoid Changbin, though it shouldn’t be too hard in a house that big. You did it once before. The truth was, maybe you were scared to genuinely fall for him, just as he had said he was afraid of falling of falling for you. The only thing you knew how to do when you were unsure of anything was to run away.

Chan was right and you knew it. Your flight instinct was all you were good at but even you knew it would be your downfall eventually.

“Wear this. From your bestest friend in the whole wide world – Jinnie”

Hyunjin stopped by while you were in the shower and shouted a quick goodbye, reminding you to not be “late” to the party before rushing back out in less than a minute. You pulled your towel closer to your cold body before opening the top of the box and pulling out a really short, strappy, silk red slip dress.

“Does he want me to die of hypothermia?” you mumbled to yourself before doing your hair and make up. All the while constantly checking your phone to keep tabs on Chan’s eta. The best you could do was curl your hair and do some basic face makeup since you loved striking more with red lips rather than heavy eyes. Since the party had a rave vibe you opted for a way heavier highlight than normal and sprinkled a bit of body glitter along your collarbones and shoulders.

“(Y/N), I’m here !” Chan’s voice rang out as you heard him shuffling from the entrance to your room.

“Are you rea– damn girl, who are you?” He stopped dead in his tracks taking you in from head to toe.

“Fuck, this is too slutty right?” You turned from your long mirror to face Chan.The dress fit you well enough, but it was so short and low cut you thought your boobs would fall out at one wrong move, not that you had much to begin with, but this dress sure made it seem like you had a decent amount of cleavage. “Shit, I need to find something else to wear. I swear Hyunjin just wants to make me look like–”

“No! Don’t you dare, you look amazing, you are totally wearing that tonight. Just take a good coat so you don’t get sick.” Just like Chan to nag, you couldn’t help but laugh at his comment.

By the time you both made it to the party it was close to 10pm, definitely late. The taxi left you at the gate at the bottom of a small hill. Making your way up you were grateful you opted for a pair of black boots instead of heels. There were a lot of people making their way up to the house and people spilling out of the house as you got closer. The bass could be heard since you stepped out of the taxi and the closer you got the sounds of chatter, heavy laughter and shouting got louder. Crowds made you nervous but holding on to Chan’s arm made you feel better. After a few drinks you wouldn’t be as nervous or anxious. Alcohol had a way of numbing just about anything.

Stepping into the house the heat of bodies welcomed you, almost immediately encouraging you to take off your coat before handing it to Chan who in turn put it, along with his in the hallway closet. You were familiar enough with Seungmin’s house to be able to use certain areas of his place that would otherwise be deemed unappropriated for others.

“Welcome, welcome friends.” Seungmin said greeting you and Chan with a hug. Hyunjin and Felix followed close behind.

“Wow, (Y/N) that dress looks so much better than I imagined!” Hyunjin didn’t trust your sense of taste when it came to party or club attire so he had the habit of picking things up for you ever since you all started partying and clubbing together junior and senior year of high school.

Felix handed you a drink with a sympathetic look, maybe your nervous were louder on your face than you realized. You looked around the crowd trying to see if you could spot Changbin’s figure but by the looks of it he wasn’t here. Even though you were avoiding him, your heart still sank a little.

Get it together, you scolded yourself.

Before you knew it you found yourself on the dance floor passing between Hyunjin, Felix and a couple of strangers. Drinks and shots started to blur as your nervous melted and you started to feel slightly dizzy at the heat and bass filling your chest. The black lights made everything neon and colorful, there were even bubble machines that left residue of shimmer on everyone’s hair, face and body as they burst.

“Whoa– whoa!” Hyunjin shouted as you grinded your ass on a guy, making you laugh and push the stranger away before turning back to Hyunjin, throwing your arms around his neck and his hanging lazily on your hips. Felix had gone off somewhere, probably the bathroom. “Do you think Changbin will show up?”

You shrugged, not wanting to ruin the fun you were having. “Who knows.”

Eventually, you found yourself alone on the dance floor still as Hyunjin went to look for Felix, probably to do other things with him.

The vibrations of the song were filling you when you felt a pair of hands grab your waist letting you know someone was there, but you couldn’t see who since they were behind you. You let your body lean back into the stranger swaying to the song coming out of the loud speakers. He felt strong and warm though he reeked of weed which immediately turned you off, but you didn’t leave him enjoying his body instead.

“Let’s grab a drink.” The stranger said, grabbing your wrist and leading you off the dance floor, weaving you through the crowd. He wasn’t half bad looking, though, the thought came to you like second nature... but he wasn’t Changbin.

You leaned against the bar, letting the coolness of the marble run up the length of your arms, without thinking you placed your forehead down the bar top to cool off a bit. It felt good against your hot skin and the heat of the room.

“Here you go.” The stranger said handing you the drink with a cocky smile.

You thanked him raising the drink to your lips. He had a dark glint in his eyes that made you hesitate. “Fuck!” You shouted as someone grabbed the wrist you were holding your drink with, jerking it away.

“What the fuck did you put in this?” It was Changbin. You froze as he grabbed the glass out of your hand, still holding onto you. He shoved the glass in the guys face, “Drink it.”

“No way, I got that for her.” He said disgust in his voice, knocking the glass out of Changbin’s hand. It shattered on the floor, but you hardly heard a thing over the loud music that was playing. “What? Is she your bitch?”

“She’s not a bitch and what she is to me is none of your fucking business.” Changbin got between you and the guy, shoving his chest.

Fuck, this was not good. You desperately looked around for Chan or Jisung, anyone that could stop Changbin better than you could. You’d seen him in enough fights to know this wouldn’t end well. Of all the good qualities Changbin had, holding back was not one of them.

“What the fuck man, I was just trying to have a little fun.” The guy shoved Changbin back, though it didn’t have much effect since Changbin had a pretty solid build.

“’A little fun’ by what? By spiking a girls drink? You must be one desperate piece of shit if you can’t get a single girl to sleep with you of their own free will.” Changbin’s words made you go cold.

Did he spike your drink when you weren’t looking?

“No, it’s just funner when their helpless.” The guy retorted.

You could feel the rage boil up in Changbin and spill over seconds before he threw his fist connecting it with the guy’s jaw, sending him stumbling into a crowd. The guy couldn’t recover before Changbin grabbed him by the collar throwing him on the ground and shoving a knee into his chest hitting him again and again.

“You low life piece of shit, I hope you rot in hell.” He said between every punch.

Fuck, fuck, fuck where the hell was everyone when you needed them?! You desperately wanted Changbin to stop fighting. The fact that they had garnered a crowd of on lookers but no one was stepping in annoyed you.

“Changbin, stop!” You pleaded but when he didn’t respond you grabbed his arm just as he was bracing to throw it again, “Please, stop!”

Changbin tensed as he turned to face you, his eyes were scary.. on fire with rage. Your eyes must have been desperate because you could feel his anger slowly start to dissipate. For a moment it was as if everything went quiet and all you could hear was your breathing and heartbeat pounding in your ears.

The stranger seized the moment and opening to escape from under Changbin’s hold and book it into the crowd shoving a few people out of the way.

“Fuck.” Changbin mumbled watching the guy run off, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

He helped you to your feet before taking you by the hand and leading you around the bar and up the grand stairwell. His pace was a little faster than what you normally walked and with the alcohol running rampant in your veins you stumbled and struggled to keep up with him, but he didn’t seem to notice. He was gripping your hand so tight you knew even if you tripped enough to fall, he would catch you.

The hallway lead off to various rooms and people were piling around room entrances and playing various games from drinking games to board games. The bass still sounded throughout the house, but you could hear a little more clearly from up here.

“Get the fuck out,” Changbin pulled you into Seungmin’s room where two people were making out on his couch. “Now.” He ordered.

The couple glanced at each other but did as they were told, which was good on their part. Changbin was scary when he was mad. You were dreading whatever was about to happen because he pulled you away from the crowd probably to scold you for almost getting yourself drugged.

The couple left closing the door behind them leaving you in a dim lit room with Changbin angrily pacing back and forth.

“You are so reckless!” Changbin’s voice made you flinch. You know he didn’t mean to, but he still needed to learn how to control his anger. “Why would you take a drink from someone you don’t know?”

All you could do was wrap your arms around yourself and avoid Changbin’s eyes. You felt like you could melt under his gaze, or burn.

“There are bad guys out there, (Y/N), just waiting for you to let your guard down enough so they can take advantage of you.” He was saying it with good intentions but that still didn’t make you any less angry about it.

“So, what the hell am I suppose to do then? Just not go out? Not drink or have any fun?” Your argument was weak but you hated being pushed around. Especially by Seo Changbin.

“That’s not the point, (Y/N) and you know it.” He stopped pacing taking an abrupt step towards you, your back hit the wall. He took another step cornering you in.

From this close you could smell his cologne, warm and musky. His chest was rising higher than normal, his anger still evident in his eyes and the way he set his jaw. Damn he looks so hot... wait shut up this is not the right time, you tried shaking the thought away but Changbin hit the wall next to your head making you jump.

“Look at me.” His voice was strained.

“Make me.” You challenged, the words leaving your lips before you could filter them out as this is a really bad idea, don’t say that.

He grabbed your jaw fingers digging into your cheeks forcing you to meet his gaze. It annoyed you how much that turned you on, you squeezed your eyes shut trying to control your lust.

“Do you like it when I get rough with you, is that it?” Changbin squeezed a little tighter until you opened your eyes meeting his. Fuck, was all you could think.

“Maybe.” You replied raising an eyebrow. “Maybe I just want to see you go insane.”

His dark laugh made you tremble.

“You know what drives me insane?” He sneered, “The fact that we had one decent, open conversation and then you ghost me like a fucking stranger you met off Tinder.”

To be fair, you knew it was coming. You shoved him off, crossing the room before slumping down on the couch, kicking your boots off and crossing one leg over the other so you wouldn’t flash him by accident.

He watched you from across the room as you noticeably gathered your thoughts before starting, “I.. I didn’t mean to do that.”

Changbin threw his head back in disbelief laughing before angrily asking if you were serious. You didn’t reply which seemed to only set him off even more. He crossed the large room in three strides before sitting down on the coffee table right in front of you leaning forward, elbows on his knees, face resting in his hands; but you didn’t flinch or shrink away this time.

“Then why did you do that to me?” His voice was lower now, his eyes were closed as if he was struggling just to say those words. As if he was trying to hid the hurt that was laced in that question.

“Because I wanted you to feel the same hurt that I felt when you abandoned me.” The words stumbled out of your mouth again before you could stop them.

You both froze.

It’s not something you consciously had thought out, but as soon as you said it you realized that was it. That was the real reason you were avoiding him, you wanted to get back at him. You wanted him to feel the same pain and loneliness you did when he left. Of what could have been but wasn’t.

“That’s fair.” Changbin concluded before straightening his back. “I don’t blame you.”

You sized him up trying to find any trace that he was lying, but he seemed a little more relaxed now. His shoulders were slack, his breathing was normal, eyes serious.

“Really?”

He nodded. “There is one thing though.” He said placing his hand on your knee before pushing it off your other leg. “I haven’t repaid you for that one time at the apartment.”

Your eyes widened as he pushed your legs apart. “Wh–what are you doing?”

He smirked at your sudden shyness. “I told you. Paying you back.”

“No, no it’s okay, I swear, just don’t mention it.” You clumsily shot up before stepping a safe distance away suddenly cursing yourself for being barefoot.

He laughed with his whole chest before standing up straight. “Come on, you were not this shy sucking me off.”

Your cheeks were burning, you were positive your face was the same color as your dress. Changbin made his way over to you, pushing your hair back behind your shoulder. The closeness of his body, the way his eyes made trails down your neck and collarbones made you tremble again, you tried crossing your arms to keep yourself still.

He noticed you shaking.

“Hey, (Y/N), it’s really okay if you don’t want to. I would never do anything you weren’t comfortable with.” His voice was soft, worried.

“It’s not that,” You trailed off averting your gaze. “It’s just I’ve never been... You know.”

“Never what?” He raised his eyebrow in that way that said, I don’t believe you,”I know you’re not a virgin.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, “Of course not, I mean the,” You flailed with your hand trying to get the point across without explicitly saying it, “I’ve never.. you know.”

Realization dawned on his features, “Oh... you’ve never been eaten out?”

“Fuck, yes, Changbin. That. God.” The fact that he said it out loud made you even more shy.

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered.” He said before pinching your cheek and biting his lip.

“This room’s taken.” Changbin called as a couple walked in barely keeping each other on their feet. He shoved them out before closing and locking the door behind them.

“Changbin!” You squeaked as he rushed back over to you, picking you up off the ground and carrying you to the bed before tossing you easily on it. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes, one you hadn’t seen in a very long time.

“Who let you wear this dress?” He asked pulling at it teasingly; undressing you with his eyes.

“Jinnie bought it for me.” You replied. He took off his jacket, the sleeves of his black shirt were cut off revealing his biceps. “Been working out?” You asked not hiding your want anymore.

“Like what you see?” Changbin asked before pulling your legs towards him so your bum was at the end of the mattress.

You nodded, biting the tip of your finger as you gazed up at him. He ran his hands up your calves and thighs before tugging you a little closer to the edge.

“When did you get so buff?” You asked half teasing. He raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, you know just looking out for my health.”

“Sure.” You rolled your eyes laughing.

There was silence as Changbin took you in again, staring down at you, his face unreadable as always. “Would it be okay if we forgot everything for a little while?”

His words made you catch your breath in your chest. Your fingertips grazed his hands on your thighs, slowly back and forth before nodding hesitantly, “That sounds fun” You breathed.

Changbin smiled before slipping his hands under your dress and slowly pulled down your lacy black panties. He got on his knees and spread your legs open, the motion made you squeeze your eyes shut squeaking in the process, covering your face with your hands.

“Ah, what? Don’t tell me you’re still shy.” Changbin laughed before placing small kisses on the inside of your thighs, switching between the two. There was a soft romantic song playing in the distance, so you tried to focus on it to calm your increasing heartbeat as Changbin kissed and sucked small spots on your sensitive skin.

His breath was warm as were his lips and his hands felt like they were burning on your thighs. It wasn’t long until you felt your body longing for more of him. He noticed the way your breathing started to come slightly quicker, the way your legs started to unconsciously shake with want and desire. He saw the way you bit your lip trying to keep yourself from making any sound, and the way you covered your eyes with your arm, hand clenched into a fist.

He smirked wanting to make you break.

“Oh, my god.” You breathed as you felt his tongue trace along your folds. You trembled at his warm touch. He liked the way you looked from this point of view and the way you tasted on his tongue.

His mouth found your clit and you let out a “Fuck,” as he drew circles with his tongue, the sensation sending waves of pleasure that you had never felt before. It was so much better than touching yourself. He went between licking you up and circling your clit occasionally sucking on it making you whimper.

“That feels so so good,” Your hands found their way into his hair pushing it out of his eyes, he looked sexy from here.

“I’m glad you like it,” He hummed still at your core, the vibrations of his voice against your clit making you shake.

You could feel the heat starting to rise, the way that familiar knot was forming in your core.

But suddenly, you remembered the guy on the dance floor. The way he smelled of weed, the way he pushed his body against your back. The way he lead you off the dance floor and handed you the drink. The drink you almost drank, the one he drugged to...

The sensation hit you like a truck after a few minutes and you could feel the pleasure start to change into something else, your breathing was coming out faster and heavier. The walls of the room started to close in and you felt like you might pass out. Your thighs were trembling and Changbin had to hold them open to keep you from trying to close them.

“Changbin I– I– fuck, I–,” you couldn’t form a coherent sentence and panic started to rise in your chest. There were black dots starting to dance across your vision, you felt claustrophobic, “Shit, it’s really heavy. Changbin, please,”

“Please what?” He asked, noticing panic in your voice. But you couldn’t speak all you could do was clench his hair making him stop.

“I– I need to catch my breath.” Fuck why were you panicking now. You sat up clenching your chest trying to focus your breathing. Changbin was sitting back on his knees, he grabbed your face between his hands trying to get you to focus on him.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay just look at me. Focus on me.” His eyes and voice were calm but you felt a small part of you unraveling. Your chest hurt from how hard you were trying to breath, you tried closing your eyes but Changbin got your attention again, “No, (Y/N) look at me, keep focusing on me. I’m here. I’m real.”

Your eyes desperately searched his face trying to center yourself.

“The guy fro–from be–before, I– I’m having a p–anic attack,” You chocked out trying to at least tell him what was happening. It wasn’t the first time he saw you panic, but it had been a very long time.

“Okay, baby, don’t worry I’m right here. Just breathe. Can you tell me five things you can see? Come on, just five little things.” You could only see a small glint of desperation in his eyes.

“H–hair,” You chocked out looking at his dark hair, “Eyes,” His eyes that felt like home...

“That’s great, baby, really great. Three more. Just tell me three more little things you see.” Changbin encouraged, hands warm against your cheeks.

“Nose” that you loved to pinch when you would tease him in high school, “Cheeks,” they were flushed, “Lips,” they were soft and still wet from eating you out, your eyes stayed there.

“Great. Now four things you can touch.”

Your breathing was still heavy but you were a tiny bit calmer. You touched the bed for a few seconds, your dress, his hair and his hands on your face.

“Three things you can hear.” He continued calmly, voice like honey.

You concentrated, “rain, piano, your breathing.”

“Two things you can smell.”

“Beer and... your cologne.” Your eyes were closed but you were almost in complete control again.

“That’s amazing baby, now tell me one thing you can taste,”

“Dos XX.” You opened your eyes, he was smiling softly. “Damn it, Changbin I’m so sorry.”

You felt so guilty for freaking out like that. It was something that was out of your control but you still felt guilty and week for letting it overtake you like that. Especially now of all moments.

Changbin stayed on his knees looking up at you. You felt so embarrassed. Why did that have to happen now, you cursed yourself again. It had been months since your last panic attack but something about the way that guy tried to drug you made you lose your mind.

You pulled Changbin’s arm tugging him to join you on the bed. “Can you hug me for a bit, please?”

He chuckled before kicking off his shoes and climbing onto the bed. He pulled your body back with him as he sat up right against the headboard. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist as you settled between his legs. He rested his chin on your shoulder half mumbling half singing the lyrics to I will follow you into the dark and swaying you gently. You closed your eyes relaxing against his chest, feeling the vibrations as he sang the sweet words into your ear. You felt at home in his arms, they were strong and safe. Like a fortress.

After a while of being like this you shifted in his embrace enough to where you could look up at him.

“What?” He asked half worried half smiling.

“Thank you for saving me. Or well, not saving me but you know... saving me. I didn’t realize the guy was a total scumbag. I should have been more careful.” You looked down fiddling with your fingers.

Changbin was quiet for a long time before responding. “If you let me be near you again, I promise I will always keep you safe.”

You met his gaze again. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, yes, I like you. A lot, actually. But I understand if you don’t want to be with me in that way or at least not right now, but it would be really great if we could try being friends again.. like before.”

Like before.

That’s all you had ever wanted. Was to go back to how things had been before, but you weren’t sure if that was even possible anymore. So much at had changed, everything was different. You were different.

“Can we go back to forgetting everything... Just for a little while longer?” You asked placing your hand on his neck, pulling his lips down to yours. You felt tired from the panic attack, but you need to feel something. Something that would replace the fear.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Changbin asked, he was hesitating against your lips.

You nodded pulling him into a kiss, your hands getting lost in his hair. Everything seemed to rush, the way your teeth teased his lips and his yours. The way you shifted yourself to lay down on your back pulling Changbin on top of you as you did. The way his hands slipped under your dress feeling your cold skin, and yours tugging his shirt desperately. You pulled the shirt over his head tossing it to the side before he went back to your lips shoving his tongue into your mouth. You could still taste yourself on his tongue and you blushed.

“I really want you to fuck me.”

Changbin chocked at your comment before laughing, “Damn, you can be really bold sometimes. I like it.”

He wasted no time unbuckling his belt buck, he looked so sexy doing it biting his lip, he knew what he could do to you. Changbin discarded the rest of his clothes and pulled your dress off surprised to see you weren’t wearing a bra.

“What?” You teased.

“Nothing, you’re just really hot.” His lips were hot on your chest, trailing down your stomach and back up again. His hands massaging your boobs before taking one in his mouth, he nibbling on your nipple the sensation making you whimper.

You pulled him by his hair back up to your lips, your legs wrapping around his bare waist pulling his naked body to yours.

“If you make me wait any longer I’m going to go crazy,” You whined pouting at Changbin making him laugh. “Oh, fuck,” he said shaking his head, “I don’t have a condom, I forgot my wallet at home...” At this point you were so turned on you just wanted to hit him, but you needed him so desperately.

“It’s okay, I’m on the pill. Either way, I trust you.” You looked at him as you consented, before pulling his body closer to yours. The tip of his throbbing cock was teasing your entrance and you whined pushing your hips to get closer to him.

Changbin tsked, “You’re so impatient baby girl.”

“I need you, I don’t want to feel afraid anymore.” You didn’t care that the words sounded dumb or selfish, it was the truth.

“You don’t need to be afraid with me around.” He hummed into your neck brushing his head against your cheek, his hair was soft and smelled of mint. “I’ll keep you safe.” his words gave you chills.

“I know that, Changbin.” You didn’t, but you wanted to.

He slowly pushed his tip into your entrance making you squeeze your eyes shut.

“Look at me,” Changbin said grabbing your jaw in the way that was starting to feel familiar. “I want you to know that it’s me, that it’s me and no one else.”

You picked up on what he was hinting at, because there were things he noticed that you didn’t. Like what may or may not trigger another panic attack. He was right, so you kept your eyes open, watching as his face scrunched up as he pushed himself into your pussy stretching you out.

“Oh, fuck that’s tight.” He groaned, voice raspy and deep. “Fuck.”

He waited for you to adjust before continuing to move slowly in and out. You were still slick from before, so even though he filled you up it felt so good. The way he kissed your neck, and left love marks made you whine and tell him how much you had always wanted to do this.

“How many times have you thought about fucking me?” He asked, sitting back on his knees and pulling your waist higher to fuck you at a better angle. These types of positions always made you a little self conscious since he had a full frontal view, but you felt safe under his gaze.

“Too many to count.” You admitted laughing before moaning as he picked up the pace in time to the song that was playing downstairs. The friction felt like heaven and you felt the butterflies in your stomach start to turn into little knots. “Have you ever thought about fucking me?”

“Since the day I met you,” Changbin confessed between moans. “Fuck (Y/N) you feel so fucking good.”

“Changbin,” You moaned his name, eyes rolling back shut. You arched your back slightly as he pounded into you, the increased pace was making you feel hotter. “Fuck, if I would have known you were this good I would have asked you to fuck me sooner.”

He laughed at your vulgar comment, “Where? Like at the hide out?” He slammed into you again making you curse, your walls starting to clench around his cock.

“Yeah, that would have been really fun.” You found his hand and squeezed it. “Shit, I’m getting really close.” “Don’t worry baby you can cum whenever you want.” His words made you go crazy, and he praised you telling you how well you were doing. He pulled your legs up over his shoulder and bottoming you out with each and every thrust.

“Changbin, don’t stop.” You moaned as the sound of his skin slapping yours echoed louder and louder, Changbin’s breathing was hitching and you knew he was about to cum too. “Fuck,” The knots in your stomach turned into heatwaves as you released onto Changbin, he slammed into you harder and faster the friction making you see stars.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” Changbin moaned your name as he came in you, his hot white liquid filling you up and you loved the way it felt. “Shit.”

He fell on your chest letting your legs rest on either side of him, you both struggled to catch your breath but the sound was sweet in your ears. Changbin kept telling you how beautiful you looked in this mess and how amazing you felt. You ran your fingers through his wet hair, admiring his beautiful features as he rested on your chest.

“Hands down,” Changbin breathed, swallowing his spit to hydrate his dry throat, “My favorite.”

You waited for him to finish his thought but he didn’t.

“Your favorite what?” You probed, putting your arm on your forehead still coming down from your high.

“Oh, my favorite sex round.” He said still breathing heavy, laughing. The sound echoing in your chest.

“Yeah, it was pretty fucking amazing.” You agreed. Changbin pulled himself out of you slowly before settling next to you pulling you close. You rested your head on his chest hearing his heartbeat return to normal, the sound bringing you peace.

His hand traced the curve of your waist, and he did that for long time.

Eventually you both fell asleep and sometime through the night, decided to just keep sleeping getting comfortable under the covers and Changbin’s skin pressed against yours.

It was the first night in a long time where you felt like you actually rested well. The morning light woke you and for a few seconds you started to panic, until you saw Changbin’s sleeping face next to yours. Then you remembered the night before, and the amazing things you felt. You calmed your heart and snuggled back into his chest.

“Mm?” he mused lightly.

“Shh, sorry for waking you.” You whispered wrapping your arms around him tightly. He chuckled and fell back asleep in seconds.

That was until Seungmin walked through the door and started yelling every curse word in the book, “What the fuck do you guys think you’re doing in my bed. Wait, fuck, what the hell did you guys do in my bed? Don’t tell me you fucking had sex in my bed that is so fucking gross. Ew! I hate you guys, we’re not friends anymore, get the hell out of my house and wash the damn sheets before you leave I’m telling Chan on you guys..” Seungmin stormed out of the room continuing his rant.

You and Changbin exchanged looks before bursting out laughing.

“I really hope this doesn’t turn into an everyday thing when we have sex.” Changbin said whipping a tear from his eye from laughing so hard. First Chan and now Seungmin.

You prayed to the gods the same thing.

184 notes · View notes

pleom · 4 years

Text

swimmer!bang chan [M]

Warnings: heavy angst, mentions and descriptions of depression, emotional abuse, family issues, graphic descriptions of sexual content (cunnilingus, unprotected sex, handjobs, loss of virginity)

Word Count: 8.7k

Something inside you burns. It throbs and pummels against you from the inside-out, wholly unwelcoming, though you wouldn’t say you suffer. You wouldn’t say it’s painful, either. This feeling engulfs you, blending with your senses and the way they interact with each other. Physically, you’d say it’s another part of the experience. Coupled with the vibrations (dull and wide-spaced,) the muffled sounds, the incessant screeching and tapping and cramping and pulling and—

You gasp for breath—a whistle blows—and you can’t swim.

“Y/N, out,” your coach motions for you.

The students around you move hesitantly, but ultimately part for you to exit. Your vision is still blurry, but you manage to pull yourself up the ladder without slipping. You slip on the way to the locker room though, and embarrassedly throw yourself behind the door and onto a bench without abandon.

Your eyes sting, and are probably more red than they usually are after practice. Your skin grays and itches as it slowly dries, so you take a towel to assist both matters. When the only thing keeping your body from fully shrugging off the remaining water is what slides off the tips of your hair, you fling the cloth over your head and sit there, slouched and effectively closing out the rest of the world.

The moments of before are already starting to feel fake—a blur of imagined happenings. The only thing you can clearly recall is your errors, constant and public for all to see (and they did, they most definitely did.) Your lungs cry with the remnants of salt and bleach, and your chest burns with discontent. Discontent that you almost drowned; discontent that your coach didn’t let you drown. (You’ll also be hearing that from your sister later on, when you’ll come home probably coughing and aching, and you can see it already: her prideful and mocking gestures, her feigning concern and doubting your abilities. You sit here, chest gaping, and you know you’ll have no argument against her. She was born with knowledge you had yet to achieve.)

A voice makes you jump. “Are you okay?”

You hope with every fiber of your being you aren’t the person who the question is being directed to. You let it fly over your head, and rub the fabric over your hair to look inconspicuous. Wet footsteps seem to bound straight for you, and in what feels like a second, a shadow peeks from underneath your towel. There’s no use acting like you’re no one, because someone’s standing right before you and seems dead-set on getting you to interact with them.

“Hey.”

Lifting your head, you take in the sight of Chan, all broad-shouldered and pale-skinned to the point you might blame the chemicals in the pool for it. He stands shirtless, though as dry as your throat feels. His class must be after yours.

He doesn’t know you (though you know of him) and it’s clear on his face. Why he bothers to question you, you don’t know. You shouldn’t look that out of place, since a few students like to hide and hang out in the locker rooms alone sometimes. Guess you couldn’t pass off as one of them.

“You don’t look so good,” he says, “Was Coach hard on you? I always tell Dad to go easy on the new swimmers but he never does…”

He sheepishly wrings his towel over his shoulder. It takes you a moment to absorb his words, but when you do, you’re quick to react.

“No, no he doesn’t,” you hesitate, “How did you know I was new here?”

“I come here almost every day to help my dad mentor the students. ‘Think I’d recognize a face like yours.” he takes a step back and seems to take in the look of you. You know he doesn’t mean anything by it, but you shuffle in your seat nonetheless. “Did you just transfer?”

You wince at the question and shake your head. You’re too embarrassed to reveal that you have been enrolled since the start, which for sure would make the air between you even more awkward. You quickly flip the conversation to be less you-focused. “So, you help your dad train the students? You must be under a lot of pressure.”

The coach is pretty ruthless. Every interaction with him leaves your skin feeling prickly; every command and scold, his directions, and even his praises—superficial amidst a deeper frustration. You can imagine an inkling of what he must be around his own son, if he’s anything like your own parents.

Chan tilts his head as if in deep consideration, but ultimately shrugs. He takes you by surprise when he breaks into a slight smile. “No, not really. I’m just here to help, as long as someone succeeds at something new, we mark that as a win in our books. Pressuring anyone helps no one.”

You eye the entrance to the pool. His words don’t really match up to your experiences, and you feel a slight jealousy for those who wound up so lucky. Maybe it’s because you’re a late bloomer, if you can even call it that. His father must’ve been shocked at seeing a girl your age floundering at what most have already nailed down.

“It must be nice having a professional help lead you down their path, the only reason why I took this class is so I could finally have a useful skill under my belt,” you can’t help yourself from rambling, so you shut your lips tight once you realize you’ve nearly thrown a pity party for yourself. Cautiously, you glance at Chan and hope he’s been distracted by one thing or another, or grew bored of you once you opened your mouth. Neither seem to be the case, though he looks at you with mild astonishment.

He motions for you to give him your name, and you do, reluctantly, cautiously, as though you’re making a deal that you can’t take back. When you do, he grins with a face of understanding and gives you his hand to shake. This all feels entirely foreign, disconcerting, and you can’t tell if the wetness between your fingers is nervous sweat or remnants of the pool. You have no time to think about it, because you separate when another whistle blows and students begin to file into the locker room.

Chan’s already left with a grin and a wave, and you’re left tugging on your school clothes with your heart beating waves of fire.

Chan has been on your mind ever since, though that is not exactly a feat. You tend to overthink and hyperfocus on the inane—it’s a fault your family has never let you forget. It’s what brings you to the situation at hand right now.

You come home late, after spending your time at the nearby café to sort out your school work. What you forgot to do was sort out your emotions (crucial mistake) and immediately your mother is hounding your every move. You make a snide comment, under your breath, about the state of the house: it feeds you more despair than actual food.

It ends there.

A snap here, a threat there, and you wish you had left as soon as you came. Your house’s front door slams shut behind you and you swallow that hard lump in your throat the best you can. Here, you’re so focused on that insignificant little action, one of pain and only pride, that you miss the tears and the ringing in your ears and it’s all useless. You’re useless.

The sleeves on your shirt have grown damp from all the wiping, and a thought comes: why not get it all wet? You’re already a hose of emotions, and your mother will yell at your weaknesses; the uncontrollable. Giving her a proper reason to scream seems sensible. Maybe you should empower yourself before she can impose her power on you.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself as you stride towards the school and mentally rummage through different ways of justifying your actions. Who cares if they don’t make sense?

You don’t.

The school pool’s entrance is surprisingly easy to get through. The inside feels especially hollow without the fuss of your classmates and coach. Every step carries its own reverb, and you momentarily hold your breath in case it does, too. But even so, the emptiness of the pool has a strange serenity to it. You bathe in it wholly.

You can’t bathe for too long, so you kick off your shoes and get right to it. You toe the edge of the pool and examine its reflections. You keep your eyes off yourself, only tracing along the ceiling lights and the stars spotted from the window. When the moon starts slowly inching into the view, you plunge.

The water whirls around you in both a menacing and tantalizing way. It plugs all of your senses and you let it. It soothes; it stings. And when you start feeling lightheaded, you resurface.

It takes a while for the blur to leave your eyes and the pounding to leave your ears. However, even with all this sensory overload, you feel blithe, and a full-belly laugh escapes you before you can stop it. You don’t want it to. This is the happiest you’ve felt in months.

Just as quickly, it ends. Abruptly, because someone has made themselves known with a loud clang. It rings from the locker room, and before you can pull yourself out of the water and hide, the door swings open and reveals—

Chan.

He’s already down to his swimwear, and looks unsurprised by your presence here. In fact, he looks somewhat pleased. “You’ve started without me.”

You’re a bit too stunned to respond, and the position of you both suddenly starts weighing on you. You’re on school grounds, way past its lockdown. The dip in the pool has definitely cleared your mind some, and you know now that what you are doing is trespassing. Maybe alone, you could’ve learned to reprimand yourself for doing so, swear to never do it again. But here you are, and there’s a witness.

Chan chuckles, clearly not running through the same thoughts in his own head. Instead, he walks over to your side and kneels, extending his hand. “Need some help?”

You can’t bring it in yourself to argue, so you take his hand and let him pull you out. You collapse very sloppily onto the tiles, the weight of your soaked clothes dragging you down. There’s silence. Your heartbeat slows once you realize Chan’s not intending on pulling any tricks. (At least you hope.)

“I won’t tell,” Chan eases your thoughts, “as long as you tell me the reason why you’re here.”

Despite saying this, there’s no urgency or force behind his words. You don’t feel pressured to answer, so you pay no mind when you do. “Wanted some time alone for myself and this was the closest thing in mind.”

“Did you know the door to the pool would be open?”

“No, not at all.”

Chan hums. He doesn’t seem suspicious of you. He doesn’t question you after that. Instead, he takes a couple steps back, “Well… if that’s all…”

He races forward and dives into the water, splashing your legs in the process. He disappears for a moment, then breaks the surface into a breastroke. He moves languidly, though sharp enough to slice straight through the liquid.

It’s a harsh contrast to you. You start to feel uncomfortable and misplaced now that the son of your coach displays his skill. Imagining yourself in his spot feels daunting, and you have to fight your instincts to just grab your shoes and run.

Back home.

The thought makes you shiver.

“Hey,” Chan floats up to you on his back. “You wanted swimming lessons, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” You’re nervous to see where this is going.

He smiles. “So hop in.”

Your parents didn’t question why you came home late that night. Nor why your clothes were mildly wet. Your sister gave her routine insult–slash–brag and was on her way. You certainly didn’t complain, now that you were left to your own devices, and on it the screen pings with a new message, one from Chan, whose contact you have yet to save.

You stay up all night responding to his texts.

When the next day comes, your loneliness hits harder than usual. You had forgotten what it was like interacting with people for a period of time longer than the length of class. You find yourself looking over your shoulder more often for a glimpse of Chan, even while swimming. And surprisingly, you don’t get yelled at by the coach for being so sidetracked. You’ve accumulated more praises, though you still sense it’s from a place of pitiful obligation.

You come home earlier than usual.

“So you’ve just given up on your education now, huh?”

“What?”

Your head snaps up at your mother’s voice. She stands as volatile as ever, hands splayed over her hips. The house smells flowery; she’s making her special rose petal flan—something she only does as a treat for herself, when things for her are going exceptionally well. These days come rare but welcomed, because usually then she’s as sensitive and motherly as one can be.

Yet today is the total opposite. And you get an inkling as to why: your English test sheet, laid on the kitchen counter.

You wince. Of course she had snooped through your room and saw your failure peeking through your garbage bin.

“I gave you so many chances, so many chances, let you drop out of math for God’s sake! And this is how you repay me? Failing your tests and coming home early? Did you even go to the library today? Have you ever studied in your entire life?!”

Your mom shows no sign of ever stopping her tirade. Her neck seems to have grown redder by the second. Your sister arrives just in time to catch the next part, no doubt excited to have her ego fed as per usual.

“We’ve moved cities, exchanged schools, and transferred jobs, just so you could have the opportunity your sister had. Do you think life was easy for her when we all lived in that garbage bin we called an apartment? Do you think she let that dissuade her from acing her studies and receiving that scholarship?” Your mother points at your sister then, and the looks on both of their faces hit you with two different senses of shame, both equally strong. “Are you honestly willing to undo all of your sister’s hard work? This is how you want to end your senior year? This is how you planned to enter adulthood?”

And with that she takes your paper and shreds it. She leaves you for the living room, sparing not one glance at the way your lips tremble and eyes glisten. It hurts, but in a way, you’re glad she doesn’t notice. It’d only stack another disappointment onto that pile she holds. Your sister’s grown bored of looking at you too, and trots off behind your mother.

Despite your blues, the sun is still up. So you exit the front door and sit on the steps. You wish you had it in you to fight back, no matter how disastrous that might end out to be. Because what your mother doesn’t realize is that it all piles up. You never asked to move to a new city, this late into high school. Everyone’s already bound and wound tight around each others’ fingers—friends, best friends, lovers, all things you’ve rarely experienced due to your momentary presence. You have your acquaintances, those who you would probably refer to as ‘friends,’ but they’re surface-level at best, not people you could ever rely on.

But that’s all she thinks you’re good for: never achieving, or attaining, or accomplishing, only to ever rely on others.

Impulsively, you pull out your cell phone and reach out to the only person nearby that you can.

TO: BANG CHAN

Just had an argument with my mom :(

Not feeling good…

FROM: BANG CHAN

Oh, no :(( are you okay?

Wanna come over and swim? Help clear your head?

The pool doors are open

Legally, this time :p

The slightest grin stretches over your face.

“And that’s how you do a butterfly stroke,”

The other kids of this program have begun to slowly disperse. They’re all younger—freshmen, probably—that make you want to douse your head in shame. The worst part of it all is that Chan isn’t even teaching them, they’ve all learned how to do the basic swimming strokes, and it makes it all the more obvious how lacking you are.

Chan had tried to placate you and tell you that most students aren’t paying attention to your mistakes, but you’re pretty sure that you saw one kid giggle when you came up for air.

As afternoon blends into evening, the lights indoors begin to feel more artificial. Chan pulls you over to a bench once most of the kids have gone home. This is when the awkwardness starts settling in.

“You should come here more often if you’re so worried about your skills, which, by the way, aren’t as bad as you think they are. No one is looking at you funny because of it.”

He pats you amiably on the shoulder. You shrug.

“I’ve already got too much on my plate. I usually go straight to the library to start on my homework. By the time I finish, it’s dinner time and I’ve got to make the switch over to the cafe to finish up my studies. An after-school swimming program can remain an afterthought, sorry,”

“Geez, no wonder I’ve never seen you walking around during class,” he gasps, “you’re up to your neck in work!”

“Yep,” you sigh. “Doesn’t even seem like it’s paying off.”

“How so?”

“My IQ is in the negatives,”

Chan jolts up as though he’s been caught asking an insensitive question, but just as quickly melts into himself. He gently slaps a hand on your arm, giggling. “No, it’s not! But for real, though…”

“I wasn’t lying,” you say, “Hours in the library, and yet I still fail.”

“It happens to the best of us, sometimes,”

“Sometimes being the key word,” you insist. “This isn’t sometimes.”

Chan is silent for a moment. “Be easy on yourself, it’s senior year, you’re allowed to make mistakes.”

You’re tempted to say ‘No, I’m not allowed. I have never been allowed. I’ve been perpetually skidding along thin ice,’ but you swallow it.

“Ok but,” you start, slowly and cheekily. “I’ve yet to see you make a single mistake in the pool. What is it going to take to make the Great Bang Chan, son of an actual professional athlete, screw up?”

“If my friends got here,” he says with a smile. “They’ve always got tricks up their sleeves. Some that they can probably teach you.”

“They swim as well?”

“Yep, but definitely not as good as me as you might’ve guessed,” he jokingly flexes, laughing. Then he sobers. “They’re coming later, if that’s okay with you.”

“Why wouldn’t it be okay with me?” You ask, but you’re already getting up to make yourself more presentable for their arrival. “That means more tutors for me.” And more judges.

There’s a moment of pleasant solitude between you and Chan before his friends trickle in. They enter in small enough numbers that it gives you time to familiarize yourself with them.

Seungmin came the earliest, the most diligent of the crew. He spoke gently and swam even softer. Felix and Jeongin toed after him, and flung water with utmost chaos. Others came and you observed, much too shy to delve into the same antics they toyed in. At times, Chan would climb out and chill with you, prompting the others to take a break and chat alongside. It all mended into a blur as the sky grew purple.

Over the days, you find the presence of Chan’s friends comforting. They’re friendly—obviously—with lighthearted races and pool tricks. They give you an experience you’ve been deprived of since you moved. They’ve taught you well, surprisingly. And it must have also come as a shock to your coach.

He approaches you one afternoon after class ends.

“Y/N, you were amazing out there,” he says. “Haven’t seen an improvement that big in a long while.”

Something about his statement rubs wrong on you. You take a step back, guarded.

“Thank you,” you say, making sure to send a polite smile his way. “Swimming has started to become more fun as the days go by. Really grateful to have made the exchange over here.”

“I’m glad as well. Honestly, I was a bit worried when you enrolled a bit late into this class. Have to keep the students all on the same page, and it’s hard to split the attention,” he sets a hand over your shoulder. “But it seems like you’ll be on the same level as the others in no time! Keep up the good work!”

And like that, your suspicions have been confirmed. Your stomach drops when he leaves, and you mentally beat yourself up for thinking you were in any way competent. A pity-compliment, that’s all that was. That’s all it ever is.

Chan rushes into the locker room and quickly changes into his swimwear. When he sees you, he smiles, pauses to wrap you up into a hug, and is out in the pool in no time. His father watches him from the sidelines fondly, with an expression that clearly holds pride and amazement.

You wonder if you will ever get that kind of look from your parents. Or anyone, for that matter.

That question is still up in the air, weeks later, when your sister intrudes on your swimming class one morning. She doesn’t interrupt or anything. She just quietly stands by the pool’s entrance and watches. You see her eyes trail over the other students and slowly back to you, making silent observations, none of them kind.

When you climb out and class is over, she pulls you to the side. She takes a moment to look you over. “So this is what you’ve picked up since you came here. Impressive.”

“Well, yeah,” you say, and try to move hurriedly to the locker room to escape her. She takes you by the arm, demanding. You struggle shoving her off. “I also need to pick up my books for next class, if you’ll excu—”

“Oh, you don’t have any class to go to right now,” she snaps. “I’ve called. You’re coming home with me for now.”

You freeze, and with satisfaction, your sister drops your arm. “Why?”

“It’s an emergency, one I thought you should know,” a small smile spreads across her lips, and your heart sinks. It can’t be a family emergency, right? Or else she’d be more panicked, right? But if it’s not, what can be so urgent that your sister would have to pick you up from school so early? “Just grab what you need for now so we can go.”

Hesitantly, you nod your head and follow her orders. When you are sat inside her car, you wait for her to disclose any information related to your early departure. She doesn’t feed your curiosity then, only drives slowly and silently down the road to your house. She makes a detour, picks a route that’s longer than your usual, and finally breaks the silence.

“You know how my scholarship gave our Mom a better opportunity at finding a job, right?” It’s a simple question, but set up dangerously and your sweat kicks in as you nod. “And since Dad isn’t the only one working anymore, we’ve got more money to spend, right?”

Right. This is a big jump from the past, when your father only made enough to cover the expenses of the bills and a few groceries. Your mother was met with job rejections left and right, and neither you nor your sister had the time or management to juggle grades as well as employment. At that time, your mother insisted that you focus more on school. She made promises that if one of you hit big, that would be enough of a reward for her. That all her stress and burdens would be paid off. You suppose it half came true. Financially, you were all rewarded.

But rather, all her stress and burdens were pushed in a different direction. You wonder what it’s like to be on the opposite side. You eye your sister, and nod your head to continue.

“So, initially, her plan was to save up to help you out once you graduated. Of course, she knew this was necessary, since there’s no way in hell you’d strike a full scholarship with, you know,” she throws you a sidelong glance, batting her eyelashes. Your hand tightens around your seatbelt. “But she realized, even with a new and improved environment, that your current habits probably wouldn’t strike you one at all. She was forgiving at first. Thought about paying half your tuition and taking a loan for the other. Welp. Then you dropped pre-calculus for swimming and made her rethink her life choices all over again. Good job!”

“Sis,” you hiss, “what does that mean?”

You can’t handle her bullshitting right now. Though you know she has all the time in the world for it. Your surroundings have begun to look unfamiliar, and the anxiety inside you strikes. That’s probably the effect she was going for.

“It means you’re fucked,” she lets out a loud laugh, “you’re not getting any help from her. Or Dad for that matter. Better start counting your pennies, sis!”

And just like that, the tightening in your chest explodes. You feel as though you’re suffocating, each intake of breath amounting to none. Your body grows hotter and you’re wracked with shivers, and stuck inside the cramped space of your sister’s car leaves you no space to handle your panic attack.

You’re overwhelmed by the thoughts of what’s to come. Getting into college—now a complete uncertainty—just to be lost in debt, and there’s nothing to do about it. You lack life experience. You’ve been holed up and relying on the bare minimum to get you by. The only moment you have been able to hold your head above the water, and your own family has dunked you back underneath. You’re struggling to win a sabotaged race.

“By the way, don’t tell Mom I told you,” your sister says, now pulling into your driveway. She chatters in a low voice, as if she doesn’t want the world to listen in on your conversation. “It’s our little secret. Just like how it was mine and hers.”

You find yourself not coming home at night. Where you stay is just about as much of a mystery to them as it is to you. You’ve huddled yourself in the locker rooms some nights, using sheets and water bottles as cushions. You’ve cornered yourself in classrooms. Hell, you’ve even holed yourself up in your family’s car, in the backseat, on the floor so that onlookers can’t peep and tattle your nightly whereabouts to your family (What a disgrace that would’ve been). But you’ve always made sure to come back home at the lick of dawn, just before the rest of them would get up and bang down your door looking for answers to ‘where’ve you been last night?’ and ‘what time did you get home?’ and you’d answer ‘the park’ or ‘friend’s’ or ‘convenience store,’ and ‘at midnight.’ Just late enough for it to be believable. No one’s ever up that late, and if one were, they’d probably be tired or drunk off their ass to notice your absence. No one’s ever called your bluff, a heartbreaking realization that you’ve come to appreciate.

Chan, though, walks into the pool at just the wrong time. You’ve just gotten used to the stench of bleach and chlorine when he nudges you awake on your makeshift bed of thin sheets and soaked homework paper. You dash up, searching and grabbing for your phone to check your alarms (How did you miss it? Was it on silent? A dead battery?). Chan chuckles as if your panic is the funniest thing he has ever seen.

“You’re fine, school’s not open till another hour and a half,” he picks up on your confusion. It seems to settle into his own features. He’s got swim trunks on, and a towel slung over his shoulder. From the corner of your eye, you note the darkness of a not-yet-risen sun. “I just decided to come in early for quick practice.”

An awkward pause and an understanding nod to himself later, he kneels. “Hey. What are you doing on the floor here?”

His eyebrows knit and his worry looks even more pronounced in this dark blue reflection of… life. How pitiful you must look. He’s probably wondering if you’re that dirt-poor, that sleeping on tile might be considered a luxury to you. But even so, you can’t bother to be embarrassed by yourself at the moment. He’s pulled you out of the comfort of unconsciousness, so now you’re fighting your natural reactions to the biting cold and solid ground.

It hurts. You’re sore and your face is blue and all you can think about is crying. It hurts that your options are either this or your home, and the fact that you chose this.

“I’m fine,” you nod meekly, “Just…napping,”

Too overwhelmed to map out a convincing lie, you prepare yourself for the defenses. This is going to sting Chan and you are sure going to regret it later, but fuck it. You’ll deal with the consequences once you’ve showered under hot water and mulled it over at breakfast.

Chan reaches for your shoulder, palm warm, and helps you sit up. “Why are you napping on the floor?”

“Because if I nap in the pool, I’ll drown.”

Chan almost cracks, and you consider that a victory. But he just as quickly wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his chest, one hand laying over your own. “Don’t joke about stuff like that. I’m serious. Are you okay? Did…something happen at home, again?”

Something’s always happening at home, and that’s the part that drives you nuts. Your old friends can handle you complaining about spontaneous spats with your sister every once in a while, but would go madder than you if they heard every single crisis that went down behind your walls. You have to bite and swallow every time.

You shake your head. “I tried swimming last night. It went about how’d you expect, and I knocked out on the floor immediately after. Not sure how you can do it, Chan. Honestly, everyday I respect you a little more.”

He chuckles, arm tightening around you for a pulse. “No one’s born a pro. And I promise you, you’re on your way to becoming one.”

You feel as though you’re on your way to becoming no one. You try to voice this as inconspicuous as possible.

“What if you disappoint someone because you’re not there yet?” you ask, “What if they wanted you to be a pro since the very beginning, and because you’re nowhere close, they end up mad?”

“Who’s mad? If it’s about my dad, I promise you he’s not—”

“No, it’s not him.Forget it.”

“Is it—” he inhales, “Is—Is your family upset? Is that why you’re here?”

You don’t respond. It’s enough of an answer.

“I’m not sure what they said to you, but just know they’re wrong. We all improve at our own pace, and we’re not better or worse for it. You need to give yourself patience, ignore them, just—”

“Chan, I can’t ignore them,” you snap. You pull yourself from Chan’s embrace and bury your face into your knees. Your eyes burn as the emotions take over you. It doesn’t hurt less as time goes on. “They make my life a living hell and there’s nothing I can do about it. I don’t know how to do anything. I’m the very definition of useless, and the worst part is that they all know, but no one helps. I can’t leave them or else I’ll just end up… here.”

Sobs start to wrack through you, and you can’t do anything to stop it. You’re tired of wallowing in self-pity, in others’ pity, but you’re at a loss for what to do. You wish you weren’t an adult with the tendencies of a child, only there for others to look after. No one’s taught you what it takes for that transition to happen, to grow independant, to discover skills and utilize them. They’ve just thrown you in the deep end and disregarded you when you drowned. You wish you weren’t so helpless. You wish you had some help.

“I wish I knew what to say,” Chan murmurs. He’s wrapped his arms around his knees and seems to gaze into the pool. Every once in a while, he passes you a glance, but ultimately, he leaves you to yourself.

The sun has slowly started to rise, and the birds have begun to chirp. That’s your cue to get out of here, though even now you’re running behind schedule. Your eyes sting and you hope your walk back home is enough to soothe them back to normal.

Chan stands up when you do, and quickly interrupts you by the doorway. His face is sullen, concave, and heavy as though he bears the same amount of burdens that you do. Who’s to say he doesn’t?

“Just… We’ll figure this out, okay? Together.” He meets your eyes. “I’ll wait at the pool for you. As soon as they start acting up, come here immediately. Don’t let their words intimidate you.”

“Okay,” just when you think this conversation’s done, he pauses you again. A beat passes. Several. And then he leans in—

His lips press against yours, soft and warm, and are off in an instant. You don’t have enough time to savor the feeling.

He smiles and says, “I don’t want you to be in any danger, whether that be at home or otherwise, okay?”

You smile. An unnamed pressure lifts from your shoulders. “Okay.”

You feel a bit guilty, keeping Chan out of his own home during the nights and mornings. You have to fight to reassure yourself that this is out of his own volition. He certainly doesn’t seem bothered when he spots you on your way to the pool’s entrance. And he’s found ways to help the time pass faster. Be it games, studying, or making out.

Yep, he’s introduced a new activity to you, though you can’t really complain. But it doesn’t change the fact that the pool’s tile and linoleum, all cold and hard, is not meant for a person to sleep on. You’ve started checking the other for bruises and marks that could be left behind in your wakes, literally.

Over time, it’s become a routine. A sad one; one that shouldn’t be necessary, but you force yourself to think of it in a positive light. That’s also something he’s been teaching you while you stay: how to manage your inner thoughts, how to turn those demons into angels, even when the devil is really, really trying you. It’s helped ease your wounds, and you avoid your family enough for them to not reopen them.

Finally, that’s his last lesson. Family is both permanent and temporary, and you’d be glad to know that the permanent ones are those you keep, and hold tight, and never ought to lose. While temporary family could always be cut off, and should be, because what’s the point of family if they won’t be there for you all the time? He’s made sure to look you deep in your eyes when he said this, voice clear and low, and just a bit unsteady. You take your time digesting that one.

You’ve got trouble with your family, and one night, after more than a week’s passed, you get into trouble with someone else’s.

You had arrived at the pool a tad bit early, you supposed, and had already laid out all your blankets and card games when the entrance clanged open. You were about to reveal a new game you’d discover online to Chan, only to be met with a voice much deeper than his.

“Y/N.”

Your head snaps up and immediately blood rushes to your ears. Coach dangles a set of keys in his hand, and seems–rightly–surprised at your appearance. But you can see the moment he understood what he saw. A person’s pity can only extend so much, and you know exactly where yours lies.

You don’t even have to wince.

School break has just started, and of course you’re grounded.

On one hand, you’re happy you don’t have to face your coach after being caught trespassing. His face held a look of rage and disappointment, and you don’t want to witness that any more than you have to. The resemblance between him and Chan are uncanny.

But you’re home. That doesn’t spell out comfort for you at all.

You and Chan send messages back and forth to each other consisting of “i miss you”s and “sorry that happened”s. You rant to him about how fed up you’ve been, and you feel relieved for the first time in a long while, because finally, someone is there to listen, judgement-free. Chan suggests sneaking into your house for the night a couple of times to see each other, but you reject, saying that your mother’s too eagle-eyed for that to happen.

Once break is over and school is back open, your family keeps their eyes locked on you like a hawk. You no longer can stop by the library for homework or studying, instead they demand you return back home immediately once school’s over. Your father insists on helping you study instead, and although you know it’s not out of the pure kindness of his heart, you accept it for the time being.

Swim class is awkward, now that both you and Coach Bang have to pretend to not have gone through that whole ordeal. But you can feel his gaze linger on you when you plunge underwater. You have no idea what he thinks of you now, after all this, and you’re too embarrassed to ask Chan.

One day, Chan approaches you before swim class begins.

“Mind if I take you out for a bit?” He asks. You slyly look at the clock ticking away by the door to the pool. You have just about a minute. Only a minute to get ready. “It’ll only be for a quick moment. You’ll be back in no time and if you don’t, I’ll cover for you.”

You squint suspiciously at Chan. “What’s this about?”

“A surprise. One my father will absolutely understand.”

When it puts it like that…

It’s a quick ride to where Chan ends up taking you: a bizarre little creek tucked behind several neighborhood houses. Its water runs fresh, uncontaminated by human interaction, feeding into the thick brushes of land and trees. It’s a beautiful sight indeed, but wholly inconsequential. You look to Chan for a clue as to why he brought you here.

He seems lost in himself and nature. Slowly, he jumps over to the rocks and gazes into the creek’s depth. For a moment, you think he’s just brought you to admire the scenery, so you’re shocked out of your own stupor when he speaks. “My father used to bring me here when I was a child. He used to bring the whole family out for a swim.”

You hum and silently make your way closer to him. He still dashes from one stone to another, calm and in thought. “My earliest memories of training began here. It was the best, surrounded by natural sounds and protected by the rocks. It isn’t too deep, just about perfect for my height and age. Eventually we started coming here less and less as my Dad took up calls and schedules. We all grew older and busier, till we just abandoned it. But sometimes I come here when I need to give myself a break and really think.”

You’re brushed shoulder-to-shoulder together now. Your balance isn’t as good as Chan’s, and you end up slipping and stepping into the creek every other second. He happily keeps a hand near your waist and hoists you back up whenever needed.

“Do your neighbors ever come here?”

“They’ve got their own gardens to tend to,” he nods towards the houses. “No one other than me has come here in at least a decade.”

He eyes you as he says this. It’s his own little safe haven. And if he’s so sure that no one has snuck in yet, that means you’re the first to enter it.

The realization makes you bow your head, flustered. Chan hums satisfactory by your side. You both listen to the birds coo and the bugs chitter, soaking in nature’s creations. When Chan notices you finally getting a bit restless, he takes your hand and leads you to the rocks. Your legs slightly dip inside the creek, its water soaking through your clothes, but you don’t mind. It’s coldness is welcomed as the sun soars higher into the sky.

“Here’s not like the pool,” Chan says, fingers toying with the ends of your hair. “There’s no chance anyone will catch us here.”

The implication is not lost on you, especially with the way he looks into your eyes as he speaks. Incidents of the past come to mind, but they’re quickly replaced by thoughts of the future, such as: his lips on yours, your hands in his, and most importantly—

“I know,” you hastily respond, “I know.”

And the moment is clear. His lips are definitely on yours, and your hands are in his, but also on his; and over his arms; and grasping his shoulders. And most importantly, his body surrounds you and he’s hugging you to his chest. Your breath runs low, and you can’t tell if it’s because of his arms or his lips.

Either way, you embrace it all.

He leans you on the rocks. He’s grinding and you feel something…hard, brush against you. It fills you with heat, both subtle and scorching and when he presses that against you again, his hand slowly travelling down your body, you stiffen and pull back.

“Chan, I—” You gasp, “I’ve never done this before…ever… and—”

“Hey,” He says, “It’s fine. We can stop if you want to.”

And he pauses, slightly moving backwards to give you some air to breathe in. You listen to your heart beat in your chest, use that rhythm to help calm you down. Once it slows, you’re still hot as before, though it spreads from somewhere deep in you.

“It’s—,” you stutter, “I want to do this. Now.”

A knowing grin spreads across Chan’s face, and he gently lowers himself over you, settles a kiss, quick and harmless, on your lips, then pushes onward.

It’s rough and gentle all at the same time. Both overwheling and manageable. You’re up to your hips in water, having slid down the rocks, but you can feel that you’re wet for other reasons.

Chan pulls backs and mouths at your neck, fingers unfastening the buttons of your clothing and tossing them haphazardly. You’re pretty sure you hear a couple splashes as he does so. He kisses down your chest, your tummy, and then hooks his arms around your bottom and lifts you. He helps you back on the rocks and holds you in place as he focuses on you.

“Turn over,” he commands. He’s still standing within the creek itself, chest level with your waist. The request takes its time to settle in your mind. When it does, your face starts to burn, but you follow his order nonetheless.

Like this, you lay flat on your stomach on the grass and your legs swing over the rocks and into the creek. Chan softly tugs your pants down, just far enough to expose you. He delicately places his hands on your cheeks and spreads them. And—

Oh.

That’s his tongue. And he’s dragging it over you in a way that makes your toes curl. You tighten around nothing, not until he does you the favor of adding his fingers to the mix. He slides them into you easily, pumping them while his tongue does its work on your clit.

And now you’re clawing at the grass and dirt and rocks. You can feel yourself lightly kicking Chan in the chest and shoulders, but he only squeezes your hips back, invitingly.

Soon, you’re cumming around his fingers and can’t help yourself from slowly sliding down the rocks and into the creek. Chan does his best to soften your descent, then turns you around to face him. His face is glimmering with both your and the creek’s wetness, hair laid down by sweat, lips plump from how much they’ve been pressed against you, God he just looks so erotic and amazing like this that you tug him in for a kiss. You taste yourself (at least you think that’s you) and it’s not the most pleasant, but you don’t mind because he doesn’t mind.

“Do you…?” You breathlessly motion for his member. He grins and looks down at you as if you’ve just asked him a silly question. And similarly, he plants a light kiss on your nose before diving for your lips again.

“Next time, baby,” he says, “Right now I just wanna feel you.:”

So he pulls you flush against him, arms roaming around your body. When you’re both red-faced from kissing the lights off each other, he helps you climb out of the creek.

Neither of you are really thinking when you hit the ground, him on top of you and his length sliding over your folds. He’s teasing, but you’re too excited to hold off for any longer, so you wrap your arms around him and pull him chest-to-chest, crying with your impatience.

With a chuckle, he gives in, sinking into you. You’re surprised at how well you take it. He fills you up so nicely, so intensely. Each thrust sends you into another fit of heat, your core burning and tightening around him. Chan nuzzles his face in your shoulder, and with every pump of his hips, he teethes at the skin of your neck.

Every feeling is amplified when he’s folded around you like this, and as time runs out, another orgasm makes its way through your body. Chan groans appreciatively and leans on his arms to plant kisses all over your lips, face, and neck.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “Let it all out. Let me feel you.”

You cry out when he abruptly pulls out. He kneels beside you and wraps a hand around his length, hastily jerking himself to completion.

You watch in entrancement, the way his face scrunches up, and the way his whole member and fist shines and you’ve suddenly got a craving to put your lips on his dick.

You hesitantly bring a hand over to it first, to test the waters. His movement stutters, then slows down once he realizes what you’re trying to do. You sit up and bring your other hand to his cock. Cautiously, you start to pump them.

“Don’t be scared,” Chan chuckles, “You can squeeze harder.”

Your grip tighten, but not too much, and you try again. Small, airy grunts fall from his lips. His hips start thrusting with your hands. You watch as the head of his cock disappears and reappears into his foreskin, shimmering with the mix of you and his pre-cum. It’s strangely appetizing.

You lean down to put you mouth on Chan’s dick without much thought. His hardness is cushioned by your lips, and his skin is silkier than you initially imagined. But it’s at this moment you realize you have no idea what to do.

You look up at Chan, and he groans at the sight of you at this angle. But then, a fond smile makes its way on his face and he lifts a hand to gingerly comb through your hair.

“It’s okay,” he laughs affectionately, “I’ll teach you another time. For now…”

He brings his hand back to his cock and finishes himself off. You deflate a bit, disappointed you weren’t able to give him his orgasms that he so desperately deserves, especially after getting you there twice. But he’s already on the ground alongside you, holding your face in the palm of his hands and pulling you into a loving smooch.

“That was amazing,” he moans, drawing out the loudest kiss sound from both of your lips. You both giggle in response. “I couldn’t be more happy you decided to give yourself to me.”

“Wasn’t planning on giving myself to anyone other,” you say. You climb on top of Chan, squealing as you try to indulge in the high-famed post-sex cuddles you’ve heard so much about. Chan squeezes you back with the brightest and most-dimpled grin you’ve ever seen.

Eventually, the mirth wears off, as the wind picks up and you’re immediately reminded that you’re both outdoors, off-campus one might say, but most definitely not on school grounds, when you absolutely should be.

You lay back, groaning when you check the time. Late. “My mom is going to kill me.”

It seems as though you can’t stop making mistakes and screwing your chances. The school year is almost ending and you feel like your life might end with it. You try to think more positively, but as the seconds tick by with neither of you racing back towards the school, the worse you feel.

Chan shuffles about. “Your mother isn’t going to kill you.”

“How would you know?”

He pauses; takes a moment to inhale.

“I told my dad about what’s going on at home, hope that wasn’t intrusive,” he says, and your heart stops. “He understands what you’re going through and regrets acting that way. He’s willing to take it all back. In fact, he says you’ve gotten so good at swimming lately, that he wants you to help mentor the kids. It’s a paid opportunity.”

His hand falls over yours. “I’m also seeking ways to get you away from there. My home’s got a guest bedroom, and I’ve been convincing my mom to clear it out.”

“You mean…”

“I do,” he says, “Some of us are not blessed with the most supporting families, and that’s okay. Because you have people that care for you, we care for you, I care for you, even if your family…cares for you a bit less.”

It hurts to hear him say it. Hurts even deeper to know it’s true. But the warmth in his gaze soothes you even just a little bit.

The dangers of going home is always a threat that hangs over your head, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned since meeting Chan, it’s that you don’t always have to go alone.

When the time is clear, when you’ve found support and built up confidence, you confront your family.

You tell them that you’ve had it. You no longer keep your whereabouts a secret, you no longer let them intrude on you anymore. You tell them that you’ve found a job, that you’re now able to support yourself from here-on-out. You are no longer financially, emotionally, or physically bound to them whether they like it or not. When you’re done, you don’t even stay to observe their reactions, though you can hear your sister snickering over your shoulder.

Chan’s there to give you a ride to his house, once you’ve packed up enough for a week. He says he’ll accompany again next time. Or maybe there won’t be a next time.

You are rewarded for what you have achieved, rather than what you can, and you can leave the past remnants behind and rediscover yourself in a new way, confidently.

I must salute smut writers, because every single time i’ve attempted to write smut I’ve struggled, ugh… but anyways………….

hope you guys liked this! if you made it this far, that is. ^^ this was edited by @jaeminlore who was really kind enough to do so!

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