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imonthinice · 3 years

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The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 7/?

Word Count: 3.5k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your Name, A/N Any Name (your best friend’s name), (Name) - your ex’s name !genderneutral (Don’t use a DC character! Y/N hasn’t dated any other DC character!) :)

3.5k words, my god. And they’ve still only known each other for 4 days and we’re on part 7. I do not know how to finish this.

Lol, Enjoy!

Warnings: Swearing, Heated moments, There is French in this one, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Falling asleep in Jason’s arms after that escapade the two of them pulled the night before was something magical to say the least. Of course, they only got like 5 hours of sleep before they had to wake up and get out, at risk of Y/N being caught in the building, although the thrill of it excited the both of them deeply, but that’s obvious. They liked breaking the rules already.

Riding back home seemed a lot less like a journey to her this time, she just wanted to spend more time with Jason, but he had work and she didn’t want to hang out at Wayne Enterprises. She’d probably go to the library today, she didn’t know exactly what she’d do today, but she always thought that was the most exciting thing ever. “I don’t know what I’m even going to do tomorrow,” one of her friends asked when she moved to Gotham, ‘How exciting!’ she answered.

That friend said the next day she ran through the streets of Metropolis with her arms outstretched like a kid, and she did it in Y/N’s honor. “I told you!” she said, “How exciting that sometimes you never know what you’re going to do tomorrow!”.

These thoughts swirled in her head as Jason drove her back home when, like clockwork, like it was out of a movie, he said,

“I have no idea what I’m even going to do today.”

She laughed, “I always say ‘How exciting!’ when someone says that to me.”

“Really?”

“One of my friends back home, when I gave her that advice, she then spent the next day running around the city with her arms outstretched in my honor, it was apparently one of the more fun things she’s ever done, so” she paused, “I really mean it. how exciting! The possibilities are endless, are they not?”

“Well, not really, I have work to do,” he frowned.

“So own it. Make the office your bitch. Take charge, take lead.”

“Why not?” he said in agreement.

“Why the fuck not.”

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

Jason walked her to her door, “Won’t you be late?” she asked,

“Dad knows where I am, I don’t think I’ll have my ass handed to me.”

“You never know,” she laughed.

He laughed too and slightly pecked her lips. He wanted more, he was hungry for more out of that kiss, but work and life gets in the way of their relationship, and he really whined when he had to break away, but she laughed at it.

“Slow your roll Tiger, one day,” she mused.

“You say that like you don’t want more.”

“This isn’t about me,” she retorted, “So, shut up, respectfully.”

He laughed and kissed the back of her hand, “You have a thing for doing that, huh?” she joked.

“I literally don’t know how to answer that, I think I’m losing my touch with flirting,” he joked back.

“Okay, okay, you need to get going now.”

“Fine! You want to get rid of me so badly, I get it,” he joked and walked back to the car and she waved him off. She hated that time he left, a lot. She knew it was healthy to take a day’s break if they’ve been on 3 back-to-back dates, but that didn’t mean she liked it.

She opened her door and walked in, thinking A/N was asleep so she wouldn’t be barraged for her hair being a mess, but, boy oh boy, was this girl waiting for her to get home.

“What happened? Why’s your hair a mess? Oh my god, did you have sex?” she asked.

“No, but we kissed, will you take that as information while I shower or do you want all the details now?”

“You can shower, you can shower. I’m not that needy.”

“Yes you are,” Y/N joked and went to go shower.

And like she always did, she opened her phone and looked at the news before answering her friends,

Millionaire’s Son, Jason Todd's Girlfriend’s Name Revealed!

She laughed, cause it wasn’t her name. She didn’t think he was seeing anyone else, and they used her picture, so she knew they just fucked it. She forwarded the article to Jason with the caption ‘ Fuckin’ idiots’ .

She then answered Artemis, who asked Did you two kiss? Dick’s up my ass about it ‘cause he knows we’re friends.

I want to take that out of context so badly. She joked with Artemis.

I knew this man had a terrible name that would come to haunt me, but did ‘ya kiss?

Yeah we did. Get Dick out of your ass, though, that’s weird, you have a boyfriend and he has a girlfriend.

Shut up, you’re not funny.

I’m pretty funny.

You are but I’m not going to admit that, girl.

And one of her old friends had texted her, it was someone who Y/N had seen off and on the past few years, they were polite, but she didn’t exactly want to speak to her ex.

Hey.

(Name)? What do you want?

Saw you in the news with the rich boy, guess we’re over?

We have been over for like 5 months, my guy.

Bitch.

Okay!

People from her hometown were noticing her in the articles and recognizing her. Some would think this is the coolest thing that someone they loved met a nice boy, the money a bonus, some would give her the reaction her ex did, but she knew she was days, hours, maybe minutes away from her parents finding out about her love affair with Jason.

She shuddered at the thought, she loved her parents, a lot, but something told her that maybe they wouldn’t did Jason to be like she found him. She also knew she could be overthinking it entirely and they’d like the Criminal Psych Major that she knew all-too-well.

But overthinking was fun, apparently. And she couldn’t stop thinking the worst of so much.

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When she got changed and just threw on whatever the fuck she saw, she went out to go talk to A/N.

“Hey, nerd. I’m done,” Y/N said.

“Nerd? You’re the one dating the bookworm and you’re in criminal psychology,” she joked.

“Ha, ha. So, how are things with your lover? Have you secured him yet or are you just doing your own thing still?”

“Still just doing our own thing, don’t really have the time to date while getting my degree and working.”

“I mean, if it works for you I can’t throw judgment.”

“What about Jason? How’re things with you two?”

“You ever seen the Wayne Enterprises Ballroom before?”

“In pictures, why- Don’t tell me he took you there you lucky bitch?!”

“Then I just wont tell you,” she laughed.

“The Ballroom? Oh my god, that’s crazy, he's really pulling out all the stops to make you smile, huh?”

“I would do the same if I had more to offer, but I have barely anything since I bought that place in the dance competition across the country,” she said.

Y/N had bought a place in this competition before she met Jason, and she was heading to it on Saturday, in two days, and she actually had practiced the routine during downtime between her and Jason. She hadn’t exactly told Jason about this, and Jason had asked why she looked strained and like her muscles hurt, but that just never seemed like something you share with your casual partner, to her. She never seemed like her casual competitions were worth anything. A/N had begged to differ since Y/N had met her.

A/N said that Y/N had talent, that she could go somewhere, Y/N saw it as an extra circular that didn’t affect her much. She wasn’t the type of brag, and all her trophies were back home with her parents, anyway.

“Have you told him about your,” insert A/N’s heavy sarcasm, “’Casual’ competitions, yet?”

Idk what the hell happened with that line ya love to see it

“I’ll send him a quick text about it, I guess,” she sighed and sent just a quick, Hey, can’t have a date on Saturday-Sunday, forgot to tell you but I’m going to Cali for a quick dance competition, lol. My bad, shoulda said something.

“Why are you like this, be proud of your accomplishments, dammnit!”

“It’s a casual competition!”

“And you’re talented! I’m this close to just showing him videos of you going at it,” she said, exasperated.

“He already knows, we danced in the Ballroom.”

“Oh my lord,” she laughed, “You’re an enigma, if I had your amount of trophies I wouldn’t be hiding it.”

“Im’ not hiding it! It just kind of never came up.”

And he texted back, Oh damn, are you at least going to kill it? You better, I want to show the live broadcast to my family and brag.

She laughed, “See!”, she exclaimed, showing A/N the texts, “He doesn’t care like you do, nerd.”

A/N laughed, “Sure he doesn’t. Do you want to go to lunch, by the way? I’m bored off of my ass.”

“Sure, why the fuck not.”

“Go get dressed then, and I’ll do the same.”

“Okay okay, meet up in 10?”

“Yes ma’am.”

And off they went.

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Y/N texted back Jason for a quick minute before getting dressed, Of course I’m going to kill it, my notes aren’t a representation of my dancing skills.

Well, I hope you win something. And text me. But mainly win something.

Of course I’ll text you, Jay. It gets boring at competitions.

You should go to a Wayne Gala then, god damn, those fuckin bastards are the most boring events this side of America.

Well maybe you’ll invite me one day.

I’ll probably have to if you show up on National TV. The press will finally know your name.

I hope I’m not on National TV then. Fuck the press.

Fuck the press indeed.

Since Y/N didn’t feel the need or want to dress up, she didn’t. Quick shirt and jeans and she was out the door. Sometimes she would dress up for lunch dates with her friends, just because she was bored as fuck and dressing up was fun, but she just didn’t want to do it today. Combat boots, jeans and a shirt were enough most days. You don’t have to be a model just because the press knows your face, she thought, you don’t.

“Who’s driving?” A/N asked.

“I can if you want. I don’t mind,” Y/N said as they walked to the beat up car they loved so much. It was nothing compared to the Porsche she had been in the night before, but it was still running, and you don’t fix something that ain’t broke.

“Maybe your boyfriend will buy you a new car,” A/N joked.

“If anything, he’d buy me a new computer, since mine is getting mailed to me and you’re going to love hearing the sounds that bitch makes,” she retorted.

“Is it bad?”

“Terrible. My sister called it a screaming electronic goat once,” she laughed, “I hate that fucking thing. But if it ain’t broke-”

“Don’t fix it, I know.”

“Exactly.”

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For some reason, they decided in the car to go to McDonald's, because hey, it’s not like Y/N is on a dance diet or anything. She wasn’t, because she didn’t want to starve herself for the sake of winning a competition. That was even her thought process as she was younger and more vulnerable to her teachers, she always told them she’d never do that. Years later, she still stuck to that mindset.

They got out of the car and like fucking clockwork, the press was in her face.

“You! The girl with no name, Jason Todd’s girlfriend!”

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!” she whispered under her breath, “How do they always find me!”

“Tell us about yourself! Are you serious with Jason? How do you feel about his family? How-”

But then she had an idea,

“Quoi? Je parle pas l’Anglais? Qu’est-ce-que vous voulez?” she said, using her bilingual skills to her advantage.

“What? No I mean-”

“Pas de l’Anglais! Désolé mes amis!” and she ran off into the McDonald's with A/N.

“Did you just speak French to get them off your ass, you genius?”

“Spoke very broken French because I wasn’t thinking, but yeah, I did that.”

“I forget you’re multi-talented sometimes, you have a lot hidden under your belt and I try to treat you like a normal person but you’re far from it.”

“I appreciate you for trying, but I think with my new love affair, you aren’t going to get far with those attempts anymore, sorry,” she joked.

Jason texted her, Did you just speak French to avoid the press?

How do you know about that?

We were watching the news during a meeting and they said that you spoke French.

You got to do what you got to do to get by.

That is literally the most genius thing I’ve heard of anyone doing in so long. I think you’ve truly bamboozled them for a while and they might hop off of your back for a while.

You think so? ‘Cause I really hope that’s the case.

My siblings think it’s hilarious, and no one’s leaked that you are just joking with the press, so yeah, they might actually leave you alone.

Let’s fucking go. That is the news of the 21st century.

4 days of knowing each other and you’ve flipped off the press twice, outran them with me once, hid in the Wayne Enterprises Building with me and you’ve spoken French to bamboozle the press. That is impressive.

I feel like the press is going to hate me one day.

Probably. But they also hate most of us most days.

You should probably get back to work.

Yeah, talk to you soon.

She put her phone away and went to stand with A/N, who was waiting for their food.

“Talking to your lover?” she joked.

“When am I not doing that?”

“That’s valid.”

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Going on a lunch date with A/N made a little bit of the harassment just better. They both bonded over how they hated the press before her love affair with Jason, and how their opinions wouldn’t change much unless, knock on wood, one of them went missing. Y/N told her about all the cases where the press and the internet did so much to solve cases around the world, love or hate the press, they did do a lot for solving crime.

She also told A/N that Jason was related to Dr. Barry Allen and Clark Kent, two people the two of them knew well because of the news and the fact that A/N knew Y/N when she wanted to go into forensics and was reading Dr. Barry Allen’s work.

When her mother texted her.

Y/N? Is that you in the press running around with Jason Todd?

Yeah mum, why?

Are you two in a serious relationship?

No mum.

Then why are the vultures so obsessed with you, says your dad.

‘ Cause you two made a pretty girl and he’s high up in the world, I guess, I don’t know. I don’t really like the press.

I can tell. We’re not mad at you honey, but be careful. And your dad says when you two get serious he needs to take Jason fishing.

He doesn’t speak French, mum.

Dad says he’ll work on his English for you.

Well tell everyone I love them, mum.

She panicked a little bit, her parents were nice when they wanted to be, but they were strict, why wouldn’t they be. So this, while being a welcomed surprise. was still a little panicky.

“Your parents find out?”

“Yeah, they seem chill with it though.”

“Bing in the press sucks when you’re trying to keep your love life out of your parents' eyes, huh?”

“You could say that again,” she joked.

“Being in the press sucks when you’re-”

“I didn’t mean literally!” they laughed.

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Back at Wayne Enterprises, Jason was betting bombarded by his colleges, friends and family about Y/N and how she was able to get around the press’ constant harassment without flaw. And also because Bruce had seen the two enter the building at around 12am the night before. So Jason was called into Bruce’s office that day.

“1, I know everyone is bombarding you, so you can hide out here, son, 2, you and Y/N didn’t have sex in your office right?”

“God no, dad. We just hid here because security is tight as fuck and unable to get past.”

“I saw you two kissing on the cams and heading into your office, Jay.”

“Okay, okay, but we didn't have sex and the intentions were there, dad!”

“Uh huh, pretty girl in your, my, car.”

“Dad, stop it,” he joked.

“Well, her little shenanigans with the press are very amusing, have you told her that?”

“I have.”

“She’s basically not afraid to tell them what we all think.”

“That’s what I said, dad.”

“Well, hold onto that one and don’t let her go.”

“Do you regret doing that with Talia?” Jason asked.

“God no, she’s insane. The son I got out of her antics is literally her spitting image, so if I need to be reminded of her I can just go talk to Damien for a couple minutes.”

“Dami’s a lot like you too, don’t act like his personality is just Talia, he acts like his dad in every aspect and you know that.”

“Lord help any woman or man that kid goes on to date, my god,” the two of them laughed. It was the small things with Bruce that made Jason happy to be a Wayne, even if he didn’t share the last name. Jason grew up on the streets and even before that, his mum and dad didn’t have a lot of money, so the amounts of money that Bruce could shower on him was a lot, but he was okay with just working for his money. And Bruce knew that.

He spent a lot of his workday in Bruce’s office, hiding from the rest of the office, and texting Will.

She knows about your kid.

Well, she’s a good kid. I’m glad you’re bragging about her, means I raised her right.

Shut up. I love that little girl and I’ve helped raise her, Will.

You’re used to my new name?

I changed your contact to Will when you changed your name, so I could remember that that’s your name now and not Roy. I’m hoping I remember it in person though. It would be awkward if I forgot my best friend’s name.

It would be funny to look back on, though.

Like how your relationship with Jade is funny now?

Never stick your dick in crazy.

I wish you would have listened to that sometimes, but then I remember Lian is amazing.

I’m a cliché of dumb choices, what can I say Jaybird.

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In Y/N’s house, she would always play loud and sad music when she had the chance, some people thought her mental state was fucked, which sometimes it was, but most of the time the sad music went harder than the happy tunes you would catch from the other side of the house.

But even if music was blasting the loudest it could ever be, somehow she would still find herself lost in her thoughts, whether it was new dance routines or a story she would scribble down in her dream journal. there was something about those little fits of artistic passion she would experience from time-to-time.

It’s hard to put into words how those moments reminded her of the simplier times before sh was thrust into stardom, but also how they reminded her of Jason, and untouched mind she longed to know further. She knew there was so much more to the boy she had gone on dates with.

She would end up ignoring her phone for most of the rest of that day, just because she wanted peace and quiet, when A/N’s lover came over and she had to turn the music up louder so she wouldn’t be disrupted by the obvious.

I just got off of work, how are you? How’s your day been? Jason had texted Y/N while she ws turning up the music.

Well, I just had to turn up my music because my roommate’s lover is over, but other than that I’ve been enjoying peace and quiet in my room, waiting for something to do.

Is texting me something to do?

Yes.

That’s sweet of you. Work was boring though so I hope you don’t expect a story.

I don’t, don’t worry. You don’t always need a story for something to do.

Well, I’m going home with my brothers and dad, and we’re probably going to play office chair racing because I’m a bad boy.

You’re a bad boy?

Was that not funny?

It was pretty funny, isn’t that dangerous though?

Yeah actually, my brother broke his leg playing it and another time my little sister broke her leg playing it.

It seems fun but like, damn, two people have gotten injured playing that game, y’know.

Well if I die it’ll be a fun story!

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heyitsyn · 4 years

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Manager!Seijoh Part 2

a/n: lmao this is kinda weird for me but i think this was an interesting request so lets try it!

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

lowkey kyotani kentaro typa beat but you gotta squint (??)

also warning! angst!

anon request: Hii! I just read the seijoh manager headcannon you wrote, it made me cry so much, i love those seijoh boys so much, and you are such an amazing writer! I dont know if requests are open or not but i was wondering what would happen if the boys ever find out what happened to reader cha? If requests aren’t open or if you just don’t want to write about it, I completely understand! Thank you for your wonderful writing again! Stay safe!

the stageplay was *chefs kiss* like MY MANS IWA WAS SERVING LOOKSSSS

soooooo

this might get really angsty idk so just a warning in advance

anyways

i mentioned in the earlier part that no one really knew what happened to you

so this one is when they DO find out what happened and what theyre gonna do about it

so first off, kyoken was basically the only one who saw you that day and saw how badly you looked

the thing is, at that current moment, he didnt really know the reason why and what happened

he had theories that you got jumped or you just got into an accident

but he was prettttttyyyy sure you got beat up

so you went home and rushed to yanno, take a shower and get your wound treated and cleaned so that it would heal bc you really cannot afford to let the boys see that

they would think of the worst at the smallest sight of blood on you and you really didnt want to deal w that chaos at the moment

you cant let them get suspended from school since they were going to interhigh soon and you cant let oikawa and the boys ruin their reputations just for you

a first year girl theyve just met

it was kinda hard to rinse all of the milk from your hair but you were able to at least get the smell out and clean up your mess

then you looked in the mirror and saw faint handprints around your throat from that girl miyo and you cringed as you touched it

‘jesus christ, seriously what does she eat? bricks?’

after your clothes were in the wash, you went to bed to get homework done and also looking up how to use the concealer to hide your bruises

you didnt really own any makeup but your mom has some so you could just use that

during dinner, you wore a turtleneck to prevent any suspicion from happening but you couldnt really hide the big gash on your face

‘y/n, what happened!’

‘i was dumb and accidentally fell up the stairs’

your parents shared a chuckle bc theyve actually seen you do this before so it was easy to believe the lie

‘darling, do we need to get you glasses? it seems your sight has worsened’

‘haha’

you went along with the joke but you weren’t eating and just pushed your food around

‘y/n? is the food not good?’

your mother asked but you shook your head with a convincing smile

‘its good! i just had some meat buns with the team earlier and i ate a lot so im still full’

you cursed at yourself for making it sound so rehearsed but you were relieved when your mother nodded

the next morning, you were satisfied with the reduced puffing of your face and you snuck into your parents bathroom where her makeup bag would be

as you held up the concealer, you started getting anxious because this was not the same shade as your skin and it would definitely raise suspicion if you had a different color on your neck than the rest of your body

you already planned to blame your wound as acne that you accidentally scratched but what were you going to do with the handprints?

the website you read said that it would take at least a day for them to fade

so you decided youd just wear a scarf and pretend you were cold

kunimi was confused as to why you had a scarf bundled around your neck and his eyes even widened at the sight of the bandaid on your face

‘y/n! what-!’

he shot up from his seat and your eyes widened before hissing at him to sit down

‘what happened to you?!’

he worriedly asked but you waved him off with a small smile

‘acne. this was the only available bandaid in my house so i had to work with this’

kunimi might be a lazy little shit but he was observant

and he noticed the way you said that sentence

it was like a robot

like a robot programmed to say what was written on its script

but before he could press on further, you already pointed out that the teacher was coming in and to hush so you could listen

the entire time, kunimi was awake alright, but he was too busy looking at you and a bright red thing that poked from the edge of your bandaid

kindaichi went to your classroom for lunch and you had to repeat your excuse for him but he pointed at another thing

‘why are you wearing a scarf? its like burning in here’

you didnt look at him as you just opened your bento

‘being in your period causes your temperature to fluctuate and cause unexplainable chill at even the hottest places’

okay what

they both shared a look and just shrugged, blaming it on your time of the month for the way you spoke with no emotion in your tone

this had to be the longest school day of your life

the whole time the scarf remained on and kunimi cant help but notice your flinches at the smallest of sounds

finally practice arrived and you really thought you could pull this off until oikawa barreled straight towards you and hugged you tightly

‘y/n-chan! you okay?! oikawa-senpai was so worried for you!’

you cringed but nodded

‘im okay, oikawa-san’

‘senpai, y/n-chan! call me senpai!’

‘im not going to feed into your kink, oikawa-san’

*cue everyone busting a lung*

‘y/n, what’s the-’

‘acne. only bandaid available in my house’

eventually, everything was fine

you were still cracking jokes w the others and you were still laughing w them so kunimi and kindaichi were at ease

but that shattered when oikawa was being oikawa and was being all touchy and bothering you about the scarf around your neck that he ended up pulling it off and he saw the marks

he was silent, just staring at them

ofc you were freaking out and you started breathing heavily

oh god he found out and he was going to hurt them

‘o-oikawa-senpai, listen, it’s not what it-’

‘y/n’

his voice made your eyes shut in fear and the others crowded around you and they all had scandalized looks on their faces

‘is this why you werent in practice yesterday?’

his voice was sharp, a complete opposite to his normally cheerful tone

you shivered and sighed

‘senpai, please dont-’

‘who is it?’

the other third years shared a look bc they were truly shook at oiks voice

‘w-why should i tell you?! its none-’

‘i am your captain and i deserve to know who is pulling you away from your managerial duties so he could just give you these damn hickeys!’

the gym turned silent

you stopped then furrowed your eyebrows

‘hickey? what-’

‘dont act like you dont know, y/n. so just be honest and tell me who’s your boyfriend’

lmao i shouldnt laugh bc this was supposed to be sad but im cackling at how dumb oikawa really is sometimes

‘i-i,,,,’

you stuttered but you knew this was the perfect opportunity

you could just blame it on this ridiculous misunderstanding

its a difficult hole to get out of but it would be easier than the other

so you pretended to be flustered and turned around to hide your face

‘it was a one-time thing, oikawa-san. i promise it wont happen again’

HELLO WHAT

the team was leaking the feeling of RAGE

how dare someone take their manager!

she was theirs!

and it doesnt help that every player might have a little thing for you

is this really turning into a harem

oikawa kept demanding answers but iwa hit him enough to quit and they finally went back to practicing but they were still distracted

every time they looked at you, they would grow flustered and red and end up missing a block or a serve

they just cant see their baby manager like that

you noticed it quickly and irritably got on them

‘stop staring at my neck and get back to practice!’

they flinched and saluted at you

lmao this little first year girl is able to control nearly a dozen <5′10 men who are all older than her

but you were glad that they finally stopped asking about it

this was going to go by smoothly and you were going to be okay

however,,,

several days later,,,

this is an angst fanfiction so i will bring thy angst

you were taking out your class garbage since it was your group’s turn in cleaning the classroom when you were grabbed by the arm on your way back

it was still outside and after school so it wouldve been an unlikely situation that someone would help you

it was that biatch miyo again and her 2 minions behind her

then you recognized one girl from the track team who was actually a year older than you but you saw her dropping off some files in the office

if you tried to run, she could easily grab you w her fast legs

great

you were stuck

you let out a tired sigh and crossed your arms on your chest

‘what is it you want from me, again?’

she smirked

‘you really dont know how to listen, do you? i told you to stay away from oikawa but youre still flaunting around with him!’

is she serious?

this girl was borderline stalker/yandere type of girl

you gave her an incredulous look and frowned

‘girl, do you hear yourself? you damn crazy and im leaving’

but she grabbed you back and shoved you against the wall

but this time, you kicked her on the chest to make her fall on her flat booty

surprise was written on their faces and you stretched your arms in front of you to symbolize distance

‘one more step and ill beat tf out of you. i just got my nails off so id watch it if i were you’

miyo huffed and stood up, brushing herself, glaring at one of the girls who tried to help her

then she remembered what you told her

‘hmm? if you hit me, you could be kicked off of the team since you hurt another student. so, go ahead, little kouhai’

she was right

even if it was self-defense, the school’s disciplinary section sucked and just suspended or kicked off people left and right even though they didnt do anything wrong

you were stumped

you were here on a scholarship, not on tuition

your mom would KILL you if she found out you got into a fight and got a record

but you didnt show that and kept your tough facade

‘dont challenge me. i could be a crazy bitch and i dont think youd like your little face being all messed up. so watch your mouth and leave me alone’

you turned to leave but she grabbed your hair and tugged it back

lmao flashbacks to the other part

she twisted your hair into a ponytail and had a firm grip while a girl kicked you behind your knees so you would fall to the ground

oh no you were done w this

you elbowed miyo on the stomach the hardest you could and she groaned which loosened her hold and you kicked her again to the ground

some other girl hit your side and you winced before slapping her straight across the face bc you didnt want to punch her and hurt your knuckles

but they were really testing you

the last girl still had your hair but you twisted around to face her and just did the last you could think of that would hurt

hit her right between her legs

you finally escaped their hold and miyo lunged after you

‘oh my god leave me alone!’

you yelled before holding up your arms to protect your face but she scratched your arms

obviously you were losing this bc it was just you but you were going to fight as much as you can

‘bad kouhais need to be punished! your senpais need to teach you a lesson!’

miyo screeched and you grabbed her arm before punching her straight at the boob

sorry rebecca

however, one girl was smart and did the same thing you did to her knees and made you fall to a kneeling position and eventually made you curl into a fetal position

gurl we actually fighting so hard considering we’ve never been in a fight

they continuously kicked you before miyo pulled up your head so you could sit up and kneel in front of her

ofc you tried to grab at her and punch at her

but these other girls were able to catch you and trap your arms in their hold and had their feet on your legs so you couldnt kick

great, another bathroom scene

your arms were bleeding from miyo’s scratches and your sides were hurting after their kicks

you lost and you were already bleeding in places you didnt think you would

this would be the last attempt and if he doesnt come, you’re done for

‘IIIIIIWWWWWAAAAAAAA-SAAAAAANNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!!!’

your scream echoed throughout the entire are

possibly could be heard in new york

and your voice became hoarse

ofc the girls were surprised and caught off guard but when there was silence and clear that no one was coming, they started laughing

‘oh, so cute! iwa-san? is that supposed to be iwaizumi-san? heh, you whoring around w him too? thats so cute-’

‘LET. GO. OF. HER. NOW.’

I GOT CHILLS

the girls holding you shrieked and dropped their hold on you before scrambling back causing you to drop to the ground

miyo’s eyes were wide and there was horror all over her face at the voice of that infamous boy

kyotani kentarou

‘WHAT THE FK ARE YOU DOING?!’

he yelled and miyo turned around to be met with his piercing eyes before screaming and running away with her minions in tow

‘YEA RUN AWAY! FKING COWARDS!’

ltr the cursing is so awkward for me to do but this is his character and im just so awkward so sorry!!

you coughed and winced at the pain on your side which caught his attention

again, he noticed you as the manager of their team and you’ve been hanging out w him, well, just him staring at you, at the alley while you feed the animals

you were actually nice and caring and definitely didnt deserve this

‘oi, y-you okay?’

you didnt look up, just closing your eyes in pain and biting your lips to not let out the crying

his eyes softened at you and he noticed you were trying to act tough and brave even though you just got beat up

normally, he wouldnt even help anyone but it seems you just did something to him

he sighed before gently picking you up, you not even bothering to stop him, and he held you tightlyin his arms as he carried you to the nurses office

he had a feeling you didnt want to be seen like this and hes been in the nurse enough to know she actually leaves the moment school ends

you let out a shaky breath as he set you down on the cot and you opened your eyes to reach your hold for him when he went away

‘n-no, don’t leave-’

but he grunted softly before holding your wrist

‘im just getting your damn medicine. chill out’

lowkey getting bakugou vibes

you nodded and went to close your eyes again

kyo returned w some pain relief medicine from his bag that he carries

babie actually gets into fights often and he needs it sometimes

and he had alcohol medicine kind istg and bandaids for your arms

it was silent as you drank the pills and he sat down next to you so he could treat the wounds

but he let his curiosity take over him

‘why the fk did you let them do this to you’

he grunted and you scoffed with a smile

‘let? more like overpower me and grip me as they just hit me’

‘cant you fight them back?’

you glared at him

‘bruh i literally kneed some girl in their cooch but they just some superhuman typa girls that cant be hurt’

he sighed

‘maybe you just werent strong enough’

okay listen here you lil shit

you didnt want to listen to him scold you anymore so you just went back to closing your eyes

but kyo is actually lowkey nosy so he kept asking questions

‘the first time we met. was it her too?’

you flinched in surprise

‘you remembered that?’

‘ofc i did. you looked like shit. not as bad as this but still like shit’

‘gee thanks, stranger-kun’

‘kyotani,,, kentarou’

you smiled

‘nice to meet you, kyotani kentarou. im l/n y/n’

‘i know’

he mumbled but you didnt catch it

‘thanks for hearing me and coming to help’

he hummed

he wasnt going to tell you that he actually heard the scream for his idol and thought hed be there so he ran to go see him but instead saw you

kyo just respects and looks up to iwa-chan so much it warms my heart uwu-

once you were all patched up, you were finally able to stand but you still staggered

he grabbed your arm softly and sat you back down

‘what the hell are you going to tell the team?’

you paused then sighed

‘i dont know. ill figure something out’

but he knew how observant the players would be and they would catch on

after all, he was there watching at the top bleachers as oikawa yelled at you for the ‘hickey’

‘if they didnt hit your face, you could get away with it. but you have wounds all over you and theyd find out. im guessing youre doing this bc you dont want to trouble them or burden them? bc they would do something about it?’

you just stared at this guy

‘how-’

‘just a guess’

he also wasnt going to tell you that he was actually part of the team but the constant fighting got him in suspension

and the fact that his parents were donors for the school, he only got a tap on the wrist

‘so what do i do, then?’

‘tell them-’

‘no i cant do that! another plan, kyo-kun!’

‘oi, im a second year, idiot. treat me with respect’

the irony bc he totally treats oikawa like trash

‘i just,,,, oikawa-san is seen as this prince/gentleman type and i know how protective he is towards me so the slightest problem could cause him to be ballistic. miyo is popular enough to circulate rumors about him and hes already in his third year and she is too so i just have to endure one year until theyre gone’

kyo was disgusted

all this for that stupid idiot captain?

‘youre dumber than i thought’

you weakly hit him at the arm

‘so mean, kyo-san’

‘i dont think its right youre suffering for someone who isnt even worth it’

you glared and linked your fingers together

‘im the manager. i knew this would happen the moment i signed up but i didnt care. as manager, i have to keep up the team’s image and their popularity for support so i cant let all that be ruined just bc a little first year girl couldnt fight for herself’

‘just tell them, kid. less problems’

then he stood up to leave

‘kid?! im only a year younger than you! what you mean!’

but you were panicking

someone knew about you being hurt and they could easily tell the team

and it only increased when he entered the gym and later introduced himself as a player

you were so surprised that you stopped breathing

‘kyo-san,,,’

you muttered and he glared at you

well, more like look at you but i have a theory that kyo actually has problems w his sight so it looks like he’s glaring at you constantly but hes just actually trying to see clearly

‘yo’

oikawa was surprised at this interaction

‘eh? you know kyoken-chan?’

you nodded, still looking at the blonde

‘i-uh’

‘its none of your business’

kyotani grunted and you sighed in relief

maybe your secret would be safe

you were still uneasy about him accidentally revealing it, especially since he practically worships iwaizumi-san, but he kept his mouth shut

your caring personality at first was overbearing on him but he appreciated your efforts like volunteering on helping him with his eyeliner or asking him if he needed help with his medical tape

ngl, he also thought you were there just bc it was a team full of guys and you thought you could have that weird girl fantasy of having a harem

but you cared for them like practically a mother and continuously made it clear to oikawa that you were NOT interested in going on a date with him

you werent annoying, you were nice, and you weren’t pushy so he actually showed you respect and took a liking to you

this created a soft of protectiveness around you

sometimes, he would see you around school and he would practically glare at the girls he knew hated you

and when he wasnt there to protect you, you would call him to the nurses office where he would mumble apologies of not being there while patching you up before he would go over and threaten them to touch you again and he would bite their fingers off

aww hes so cute

ofc he still kept your secret bc it wasnt his business to tell

until that one day

it was normal practice with you helping the boys toss the balls so they could spike it

iwaizumi spiked it really hard making you flinch and he apologized profusely after you almost fell off the chair you were standing on in surprise

‘im just angry that that damn shittykawa is the captain and is late to his own damn practice’

oikawa? late?

that was unheard of

you were about to get off the chair and look for him when the devil himself entered the gym with the devil’s mistress on his arm

miyo was holding on to his arm as he laughed at something she said and ruffled her hair

you dropped the ball and kyotani quickly moved to you so he could stand in front of you protectively

‘oi! shittykawa! youre late!’

oikawa just smiled and pointed at the girl

‘miyo-chan made us cookies, iwa-chan!’

at the mention of food, the boys ran forward but you and kyotani remained at the side at the infamous name

you got off the chair and hurriedly placed an arm in front of him

‘don’t, kyo-san’

‘the bitch-’

‘i know. but please, dont’

you begged and he huffed before aggresively wrapping an arm around your shoulder

aggressively cares for you

‘if she does something or even talks shit, i will-’

‘kyoken-chan! y/n-chan! come here!’

oikawa called but kyotani snarled at him

you smile wobbled when miyo’s eyes narrowed at you and she smirked

‘oh? your manager is so cute, oikawa-kun!’

the rest of the team was just blinking at this weird tension

kyo had his arm tightly around you and hatingly glaring at this girl, who was icily smirking at you, and you tightly holding kyo’s shirt with a worried glint in your eyes

‘you were late to your own damn practice, oikawa. stop wasting time eating this shit and go back to playing’

tbh it still shocks you at how rudely kyo talks to oikawa but you were too pre-occupied on making sure this kid wasnt going to lunge at this girl

‘a-ah, right. oikawa-san, we have to return to practice. if you excuse us, miyo-san-’

you were about to gently grab oikawa’s arm to bring him back when she grabbed your wrist and secretly gripped it

‘oh, dont be so uptight, y/n-chan! i worked so hard-’

but kyo immediately snatched her hand away from you and squeezed it as tight as he could, making her wince

oikawa noticed the pain in miyo’s face and he was angry that kyotani was hurting a girl

‘oi! kyotani!’

he shouted and pushed him away, making the team, even iwa, worriedly look at kyo and brace themselves for the beating

iwa jumped into action and held the second year back while you jumped in front of oikawa

‘kyo-san, calm-’

‘you! be quiet’

he shouted, finger pointing at you

‘and you!’

before pointing to oikawa

‘you are a shitty captain’

‘kyotani!’

iwa was just straight out confused and hes really questioning life decisions right now

mom is stressed and confused, i repeat, MOM IS STRESSED AND CONFUSED

oikawa’s eyes narrowed but he just calmly talked

‘we’ll talk about this later’

‘miyo-san, we really need to practice so if you could see yourself out’

iwa gently smiled to the girl, who was about to protest, but makki and mattsun has already pointed to the door

she huffed then turned to leave and once she was gone, iwa let go of kyotani

‘kyotani, what the hell was that’

oikawa lowly asked and you were about to put your arms out to separate them but yahaba and watari grabbed you so you wouldnt be caught in the middle

then kyo turned to you, fire in his eyes

‘either you tell him or i will’

can we just talk about how protective kyo is?

you trembled and you roughly left yahaba and watari’s grip so you could gently place your hands on his chest

‘please, kyo. just leave it, okay? remember, it’s my busi-’

‘if i see that bitch enter this gym again, i dont give a flying fuck if shes a girl. ill beat the living daylights out of her’

‘kyotani kentarou, what-!’

oikawa shouted but your glare shut him up

‘y/n-chan, what is going on’

‘n-nothing. kyo-san is just, yknow, being him. you know? okay. now lets get back to practice, everyone!’

coach irihata and the other guy sharing that look

to say the least, miyo was pissed

and when she was pissed at you, she always did what she normally does

she corners you wherever its deserted and beat you with the help of her minions who holds you down while she slaps, hits, or kicks you

girlie you needs to tell the boys youre literally getting hit and abused and im just-!!!!!!!!!

and thats exactly what she did

only this time, she wore hard-tipped shoes

‘see, y/n-chan? i saved up and got these shoes just for you!’

the minions were just sharing looks of fear and genuine sympathy for you

they were only there bc she blackmailed them with pictures doing questionable things and if they dont help, they would be released

as usual, you didnt cry, biting your lip as you winced from the pain of her kick at your side

‘youre so pathetic. how could you do this to a person? and all this for your oikawa-san? for a boy?’

you wheezed at her causing her eyes to flare

‘HAH?! SAY THAT AGAIN!’

‘i said-’

but you were cut off when she slapped the soul out of you

her ring cut you at the lip and you cringed at the taste of blood from your lip

‘what else? we gotta hurry this up, miyo, because practice started like 5 minutes ago and im going to get yel-’

‘SHUT UP!’

kyotani entered the gym after his talk with his teacher and immediately looked around for you

his honey brown eyes scanned the area and they widened as your figure wasn’t in sight

‘oi, yahaba, wheres the manager’

the boy shrugged from the side

‘i dont know. shes late though’

oh god

‘kindaichi! kunimi! youre in the same grade right? did you see where she went after class?’

kunimi paused to remember before answering

‘she stayed after to talk to obe-sensei for the homework, that’s all i know’

that meant she stayed behind and was probably somewhere

‘SHIT!’

he shouted before bolting out the door

ofc the boys were all worried of his outburst and started yelling after him

‘kyotani!’

‘kyoken-chan?!’

they followed him, who was running as fast as he can

the girls would probably do it outside to avoid having to clean up their mess and he almost wrenched the door open in a hurry to take a lap around the school building

it was certainly a sight to see: a boy with dyed blonde hair and two brown lines followed after an entire volleyball team who were screaming after him

‘YOU-!’

he heard that bitch voice and bolted towards the back, where the dumpster was, and found you at the same position like the first time he saw you

blood was dripping on the floor from your busted lip and a cut on your cheek while your eyes were wide at the sight of kyotani’s panting form

‘kyo-!’

‘kyotani!’

your eyes watered at the sight of the entire volleyball team behind him, also eviqualiently surprised yet fuming angry

the girls who held you dropped your arms and ran for the hills so they wouldnt get caught

kyo pushed miyo aside as he grabbed you from the floor and held you

oikawa gave miyo a look that cannot even be described in words

all it was: incredibly, super, ridiculously, heatedly, furiously, angry

now multiply that by the entire team

‘hm, my father, who is the chieftain of the police, mentioned about there being jail time for even minors who commit serious acts like assault or bullying’

mattsun seethed

‘really? i think he’d like the video as evidence against kenta miyo for assault and battery, including bullying, so how many years would that add up to? nearly a decade?’

the girl miyo squeaked as oikawa and iwaizumi roughly grabbed each wrist

‘how long’

miyo trembled at the increased pressure on her wrist

‘IM ASKING YOU A FUCKING QUESTION! HOW LONG!’

iwaizumi has never shouted at a girl before and hopefully, it would be the last

‘s-s-since l-last month’

you burrowed your head in kyotani’s shirt

‘please dont’

‘shut the fk up, y/n-chan, we’re not talking to you right now’

oikawa coldly reprimanded

‘everyone, take y/n away. iwaizumi and i can take care of this. but mattsun, makki, track down those 3 girls and find others who have even touched our manager’

‘got it, boss’

if it was in a different situation, you wouldve applauded oikawa at his ability to be a leader but you were currently in pain from the bruises and the cuts all over you

your fellow first-years were angrily punching things in the nurse’s office

rip nurse in the morning when she finds holes all over her walls

the irony is, the most agressive one, kyotani kentarou, was the calmest as he quietly cleaned your wounds and placed ointment on the bruises

‘i told you so’

he mumbled and you scoffed

‘howd you find me anyways?’

‘dumb bitch yaps really loud’

he answered

no one was yelling at you and no one was saying a word

eventually, oikawa and iwaizumi entered followed by the rest of the third years

‘why. why didnt you tell us, y/n?’

oikawa asked as he sat down on the chair beside the bed

you looked down and fiddled with your fingers

‘if i did, you wouldve hurt her. and she wouldve spread rumors about you and ruin the image and reputation of the grand king and the volleyball team. i didnt want to do that to you and thought i could just endure it one year since youre graduating anyways’

iwaizumi sucked in a harsh breath

‘you wouldn’t have known what we were going to do. you are no oracle and you dont know how we are going to handle this situation. so you were really stupid for keeping these things to yourself, y/n. you may be our manager and our caretaker but let us take care of you too’

you nodded but your tears fell

‘sorry. im really sorry. i didnt meant to trouble you’

‘stop apologizing, y/n’

‘sorry’

‘y/n!’

you bowed your head low and bit your lip in guilt

‘i shouldve told you but i didnt and now everyone is troubled-’

‘we’re a team, y/n. youre not a lone wolf anymore. you have a pack standing right beside you’

watari mumbled and he sat down to give you his favorite hug: the one arm hug

‘im super angry right now and it might seem like im snappy but i really want you to know, y/n, that i really love you and i am just hurt that you didnt trust us enough to tell us you were suffering when i trust you with my entire being. so next time youre hurting or in pain, dont you dare keep it to yourself. tell us, okay? tell your senpais and friends about it so we can share that burden’

oikawa babie you are so mature like what-

what started out as a hug from watari turned into a team hug around the tiny bed, even kyo joined, and you were so happy you found a good team that appreciated you and everything youve done and accepted you as one of their own

‘oikawa-san, what did you do to miyo?’

‘again, im mad y/n-chan, so please dont talk about her right now’

‘iwa-san?’

‘dont use those puppy eyes on me! dont you dare-- okay, we’re pressing charges’

silence

‘WHAT?!’

‘and iwa-chan slapped her!’

‘WHAT?!’

‘shut up shittykawa you did too!’

‘WHAT?!’

a/n: this hurted a bit and im sorry if this was lowkey awkward and all over the place but i didnt exactly know how to portray this situation since ive never experienced this, just bullying in general, before but for those who have, please tell someone so that you dont have to carry that burden by yourself. it doesnt have to be a your parents, but talk to a trusted adult so that this type of stuff doesnt happen to you bc you truly dont deserve that type of treatment and deserve to be happy and feel safe in an environment like school or anywhere in general

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 3 years

Text

What if...? Part 10a

Yes, it is 10a, because I said it would be 10 parts and not 11, so you will be getting the epilogue as 10b. HAH! ...Don’t look at me. T-T

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if…

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

Part 10a

For the first five hours after leaving the Covert, Davarax is out of it. Everyone draws a sigh of relief when his eyes open and he’s back with them again.

“Where are we going?” Din asks, frowning at the coordinates.

Davarax manages a faint smile, still sedated by pain. “Someone who can help us.” He then makes a face and presses his hand gently to the pressure bandage on his neck. “We just have to find her.”

Dulsissia realizes she doesn’t care where they go as long as that means they can get some medical supplies and patch him up properly. “Take it easy.” She uses her fingers to comb the dark locks of his hair back from his sweaty forehead. “We’ll find this person. Leave it to us.”

It takes them two days, but at least by then Davarax is able to stand up and walk a little, so when they land on some strange planet and find themselves surrounded by unfamiliar Mandalorians, he is the first to walk off the Razor Crest, hands in the air, and greets the leader. “Lady Kryze.”

He had warned them that these were Mandalorians who lived by a different Creed. Dulsissia and the children had all been surprised to hear there were Tribes out there with other rules than theirs, but mostly they are unsettled by Davarax telling them to keep Paz and Raga’s last names a secret...

A Mandalorian steps forward, removes their helmet and reveals red hair and suspicious eyes. “Davarax? Is that you?”

Exhaling a faint laugh, Davarax lowers his arms and sways a little, which makes Dulsissia and Paz dart over to grab an arm each to support him. “It’s me.”

The one called Kryze clicks her tongue and tilts her head. “I thought you guys weren’t allowed to remove your helmets?”

“We’re not.” Davarax confirms, still with a weak smile.

Another unfamiliar Mandalorian steps forward and crosses their arms. “You’re cuter than I thought.” It doesn’t sound like she means as a compliment.

Davarax nods with amusement. “Thanks.”

“Why are you here? What do you want?” Kryze cuts in.

“Safety.” Davarax replies. “I need a place to stay for a while.”

The woman doesn’t blink. “And what do I get?”

“Me.” Davarax states. “One standard year, I’ll work for you.”

Something about the woman’s eyes makes Dulsissia tense up. This Kryze person looks a little too pleased at that. A gentle, quizzical squeeze of Davarax’ arm gets no response. He just keeps locking eyes with the other Mandalorian.

Kryze is the one to break the staring contest and looks over at Dulsissia. “And this one? She’s not a Mandalorian.”

“Ner riduur.” Davarax replies.

The Mandalorian who had commented on his looks snorts a loud, surprised laugh. “You? You got married? You?”

“I fell in love.”

Dulsissia feels her face burn. Him once again confessing his feelings for her so openly makes her knees weak, but she also feels a little bad that he has to lie for her; they aren’t married yet. She fully intends to marry this man, but she prefers him to be conscious under the ceremony and Davarax has been out cold for most of the two days on the ship.

“And these are your children?” Kryze shifts her attention to Paz, then the others waiting, huddled together, on the Razor Crest’s ramp.

“Yes.” Davarax confirms without hesitation.

Kryze nods, thoughtfully, then sets her sharp stare on Davarax again. “One year.”

He nods.

“And you will follow my orders.” This is clearly not debatable. “For one year, your loyalty is mine.”

Davarax nods again.

Dulsissia feels the urge to object, fears what he is promising himself into, but what does she know? Other than to trust Davarax. So she holds her tongue and hopes she won’t regret it.

Kryze holds out an arm, pointing them towards a building. “Then, welcome home.”

It doesn’t take long before Dulsissia realizes that the people in this Tribe are very different from Davarax’ people. While the Covert had treated her with polite distance, the Mandalorians here eye her with open disdain and suspicion. She’s not one of them and they don’t like it.

Paz, Raga and Din all end up in vicious fights on their very first day. Corin latches himself to his mother’s arm and Barthor basically refuses to leave the room assigned to them. If not for the fact that they need medical help for Davarax and that he’s given his word to stay a year, Dulsissia would have demanded they’d leave by the third day. But, stuck in this place, temporarily, she grits her teeth and tries to make things easier for both the children and Davarax.

With a doctor and some bacta, the injury on Davarax’ neck soon turns into a scar, a reminder of how close she’d come to lose him, and he barely has time to recover before Kryze sends him out on his first mission.

After Davarax comes back, without new wounds despite the blood on his armor, Dulsissia feels such a relief that she clings to him throughout the entire night. Brushing light fingertips over his scar, she keeps her voice down so not to wake the children sleeping at the other side of the room. “Two people asked me today what I did to make you marry me. Three, yesterday. I think one of them accused me of being a Jedi and doing some mind-control-trick on you.”

Davarax shakes with mute laughter. “My little Jedi witch.”

She pokes him in the side with two fingers, making him jolt and hug her closer. Dulsissia settles again and rests her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. “How come you never married?”

“You’re the first that made me want to get married.” Davarax replies with a calm ease, as if his words doesn’t make all kind of happiness radiate through her entire body. He’s looking up at the ceiling, half-asleep. “You’re the first who not only accepted my kids, but loved them, from the very start, and that made me think… we could be one. Made me want it.”

“I do love them. And I love you.” Dulsissia finds his hand and braids their fingers together. Be one. That sounds so right. “How do Mandalorian weddings work? Who does the ceremony? The Tribe leader?”

Davarax turns his head to look at her, suddenly a little eager. “We can do them now. The vows.”

“What?” Dulsissia lifts her head to look at him as well. “Here? In the middle of the night, with no witnesses?”

“A marriage is the ultimate union in Mandalorian culture. It’s about embarking on a future together as one, of sharing everything and raising warriors together. It doesn’t matter where you take the vows, what we care about is that they are kept.”

Dulsissia considers this for a moment, has an involuntary flashback to her huge, glamorous event that had locked her to Macero, and decides she likes the idea of making it all about them instead of a ceremony designed to impress everyone else. But, there is one thing Dulsissia will insist on; “I want the kids to be a part of it. This union includes them, after all.”

Davarax smiles at her, this beautiful smile that takes her breath away for a second, then he lies back down and stares up at the ceiling again. “And this is why I want to marry you.”

Smiling as well, Dulsissia curls up close to him and feels like a giddy teenager again.

That happy feeling is nowhere to be found the next day when she stalks into their room with frustrated tears in her eyes and pressing a hand to her aching ribs. Dulsissia waves a dismissive hand to Din, Barthor and Corin, who instantly jump to their feet to run over to her. “I’m fine.”

Luckily neither Paz or Raga are there to witness this, but Davarax is and he wont be waved away. He gently but firmly persuades her to let him examine her and asks what happened.

“It’s her again.” Dulsissia snaps, cringing with pain as his hand presses gently against her ribs. “The one with the big mouth. I was partnered with her during training today and she acted like she had some kind of personal problem with me.”

Din and Corin exchange frowning looks in the background. Barthor crosses his arms.

“No broken ribs.” Davarax concludes, sounding a little relieved, then looks at her face and frowns a little himself when he sees the bruising on her jaw. He lifts his hand and lets the back of his index finger barely brush over the bruise. “You want me to deal with her?”

“No.” Dulsissia snaps, increasingly angrier. “I don’t need you to handle my problems. I’m going to get even better at this hand-to-hand combat thing and then I’m going to punch that all-helmet-no-brain Mando in her face!”

Davarax takes a gentle hold of her chin and grins. “That’s my girl.”

Strangely enough a foul smell emerges in one particular living quarter and as no one can determine the cause, the woman living there is forced to move. But the smell sticks to her for two weeks.

“They say an Imperial officer is looking for a Mandalorian and a blonde woman.” Bo-Katan states, her t-visor showing Davarax and Dulsissia’s reflections as she stands in the doorway to their room. “I take it that is why you said you needed a safe place to hide?”

Dulsissia feels her stomach clench with unease. Macero… He’d found them? No. If he had, this place would be swarming with Imperial troops. Everything would be on fire. Like Nevarro.

“Is that a problem for you?” Davarax drawls, almost challenges her.

Bo-Katan removes her helmet and looks at him with a confident smirk. “Not at all. Let him come.”

Dulsissia shakes her head. “Don’t underestimate this man, Lady Kryze. He’s-”

“I know all about Macero Valentis.” Bo-Katan cuts her off. “And I’m not afraid of him.”

“Maybe you should be.” Dulsissia warns her. “Did you hear what he did to Nevarro?”

That makes the smile on Bo-Katan’s face widen. “Nevarro did not have our blasters, canons, ships and bombs.”

Dulsissia blinks. Oh. Okay, she’s starting to understand why Davarax insisted on taking shelter with these mean people. Maybe the only way to defeat Macero is to fight fire with fire?

Bo-Katan sends Davarax out on mission after mission. Dulsissia sees the exhaustion return to his face. It drives Dulsissia to train harder, push herself harder, and hopes to to become less of a burden and eventually a true partner that can help him carry the weight of their family.

Entering the room one day, his hands shaking after whatever horrors he’s been through, Davarax proudly declares a shipment of durasteel has been acquired and Lady Kryze has agreed to let him bring his share to their armorer.

Dulsissia watches with a faint smile when she sees Paz and Raga beam with pride as they are fitted with armor. She’s highly amused when Barthor keeps making demands for adjustments to his, and extremely pleased with the delighted looks on Corin and Din’s faces when they get theirs. By the rules of Davarax’ Covert, Corin and Din both should be wearing their helmets now, like Barthor still does, something especially Din had considered a milestone for his adulthood. However, the armor seems to be an acceptable replacement for the moment.

Especially as they know there will be battle soon...

On board his ship, Macero grits his teeth, fury boiling in his veins, and he turns away from where the holo-message from his field-officer had been played for him. How could they be losing? He had sent more than enough troopers to deal with these cretins, so how could they be losing?

Mandalorians are a dangerous breed, he’s come to learn that after chasing them across the Galaxy in the hunt for his wife, but his troopers are highly trained soldiers with the best equipment possible. There is no way they can be losing to these dirt-dwellers!

Macero knew there was a chance this was a trap when news of a blonde woman observed with Mandalorians on this planet reached him, after not hearing a single whisper about his wife’s location for so long, but so what? He had the soldiers and firepower to deal with whatever these people tried to throw at him. Macero is not afraid of some arrogant Mandos.

The three officers in the communication room eye him nervously and Macero suddenly can’t stand their cowardly faces. “I will be in my office. Let me know if there are any more messages.”

Marching to his office, Macero hears the sound of battle on the ground and makes a silent vow that any trooper who retreats back to the ship is to be shot for cowardice. There is no way they are losing. He doesn’t care how bloody the cost will be; the Mandos will pay even more. He will wipe them from this planet.

Macero takes two steps into his office then comes to a halt. His chair is pointing the wrong way. Its back is towards the door. And he didn’t leave it like that.

The door closes behind him.

Looking back, Macero takes a startled step forward when he sees a tall, blue armor and blue helmet wearing Mandalorian standing there.

The sound of the chair turning makes Macero turn back as well and he’s surprised to see another blue armor and blue helmet wearing Mandalorian is sitting his his chair. A smaller one. “What is this?” Macero snaps angrily. “What do you want?”

“Your head on my wall, would be the honest answer.” The one in the chair replies. “But I don’t ever want to see your face again, so… I guess I’ll settle for your life.”

Macero frowns. It can’t be. It’s not possible.

The Mandalorian gets up from the chair. “I told them you were too clever to fall for a trap this obvious. They told me you were too arrogant to resist.” The blue helmet is removed and Dulsissia looks at him with a faint, mocking smile. “Knowing you and your ego, I agreed to try.”

She no longer looks like the frail girl he once knew, not the pretty decoration he wanted but a half-wild creature. Macero’s mouth tightens with disgust. “Where is my son?”

“He’s not here.” Her eyes are as cold as Antonia’s. The old hag would have been proud to witness this. She never liked Macero. “You will never see Corin again.”

“He’s my son.” Macero grits out. “And you are my wife. You two belong to me.”

Dulsissia’s soft laugh is pure mockery. “We don’t belong to you. And you are nothing to us.”

Enraged by her daring to talk to him like that, Macero casts a quick glance back at the Mandalorian blocking the door. “Because of this one? You think you can just take my son away and replace me with the first lumbering oaf tempted by you flashing your ankle?” Macero looks back at Dulsissia. “You better not be carrying his bastard child.”

“After Corin was born, I got the chip. I never was and I never am going to give you any more children to torment.”

“You think I care about you want? You think I will let a spoiled Motti girl ruin my plans?” Macero has never been this furious before. His blood is so hot it almost hurts in his veins. “Your little adventure is over, Dulcy. We’ve wasted enough time on your childish antics. You are coming home. Now.”

He backhands her across the face, hopes she feels it like he did the insult of her getting that damn chip behind his back, draws his blaster with his other hand at the same time and fires back at the Mandalorian.

Dulsissia is not prepared and the surprise of the impact knocks her off balance more than the pain. Still, she moves with it, uses the momentum to spin away to get some distance between them and get her helmet back on.

The HUD is still a bit confusing to her, but she knows the value of the protection the helmet offers. (Davarax had given up pieces of his own armor to have the beskar remade into helmets for them and she had cried over him having to sacrifice even more for their family.)

Davarax is forced to move in order to dodge the shots Macero fires at him and he draws his own weapon, but because of where Dulsissia is standing; he doesn’t fire back, unwilling to risk hitting her.

This buys Macero enough time to activate his communication link and demand back-up.

Dulsissia knows most of the men in her family are officers in the Imperial army because their names and fortune ensured it, but Macero had worked his way up and he is far from helpless.

He unfortunately proves it as he ducks under the punch Davarax throws at him, turns and delivers a hard kick at the side of Davarax’ knee, making him buckle. Macero keeps turning and fires his blaster at Dulsissia, forcing her to take cover behind his desk.

Davarax throws himself forward, plants his shoulder into Macero and manages to slam him into the wall, but that results in them being locked together while trying to pummel the other into submission and Dulsissia being the one not willing to shoot this time in case she’d hit Davarax.

And moments after that, the door to the office slides open to let a wave of storm troopers rush in.

It becomes chaos. And fear jolts through Dulsissia when she hears Macero call out the order for them to kill the Mandalorian but not harm her. Davarax is the best fighter she’s ever seen, but some times quality is forced to break under quantity. She stalks forward, picks up a blaster one of the now fallen troopers had lost, and she begins to fire with a weapon in each hand at every target her HUD identifies as hostile and absently marvels at the strength and agility of the man she loves as Davarax comes at the enemy with brute strength.

A warning flashes across her HUD and Dulsissia manages to side-step Macero’s attempt to slam the back of a blaster rifle at her helmet. She lifts the stolen blaster but he knocks it out of her hand instead and when she lifts her own blaster, another warning flashes across her HUD. This time she’s not fast enough to avoid it; Macero’s right hand locks around her throat and cuts off her air.

Automatically grabbing at his arm with her free hand, Dulsissia feels the ground disappear under her feet as he lifts her up and then her back slams down on his desk. Macero hovers over her with a furious expression on his face.

“You foolish girl.” He sneers with fury and disgust. “What did you think would happen? That I would give up? That you and your simpleton would live happily ever after? Stupid, stupid girl. Your blood is far too important to me. I will never let you go. And I will find my son too. Believe me.”

She does.

The blaster shot is muffled due to the weapons muzzle pressing against its target, but Macero jolts and his eyes grow wide as he stares at her. His anger is replaced with shock and disbelief.

For a couple of heartbeats, as Dulsissia looks into Macero’s eyes, she remembers how his smile used to make her blush, how he would encourage her to talk and be the only one in her life who bothered to listen when she did, how incredibly gentle his hand was on her skin for their first kiss, and while that man never truly existed, she still says goodbye.

Macero slowly tilts to the side, his hand letting go of her throat, and he simply drops to the floor. His blood is on her armor, on her blaster and her hand. And yet, as Dulsissia draws a shivering breath, she feels free.

Her son is safe.

Sitting up, coughing, Dulsissia lifts her blaster and picks off two storm troopers aiming to fire at Davarax as he’s dealing with one of their comrades. “Dav. Let’s go.” She uses the internal communication system.

“It’s done?” His voice replies.

“It’s over.” Dulsissia deliberately does not look over at the fallen Macero. “Let’s go.”

“You got my back?”

“Always.”

Instantly barging towards the door, Davarax takes several hits to his armor, almost staggers due to the reduced efficiency of durasteel instead of beskar, but it’s not enough to stop him, and Dulsissia quickly makes her way over to cover their backs. He pushes forward for them to escape, she keeps them safe while he creates a path down the hallway.

Once they climb the stairs to the second floor of the ship, followed by troopers, Davarax makes a pleased sound when he sees the door Dulsissia had been talking about and sets course for it.

While it was the men of her family who got to be military officers, Dulsissia had spent plenty of time on imperial ships after Macero started to court her and she knows their lay out like the mansion on Seswenna. This door will lead outside, to a narrow path along the ship’s side originally meant to be used in case of repairs, but with the ship currently hovering inside the planet’s atmosphere; it is perfect as an escape route. And as more and more troopers join the ones already chasing them, they need one.

Davarax opens the door and a powerful gust of wind rushes in as they are high above ground. He looks back at her.

Dulsissia keeps firing her blaster at the stairway, forcing the storm troopers to duck down. “Go.”

Davarax nods, steps forward, vaults over the railing and disappears.

Grabbing a grenade from her belt, Dulsissia activates it and throws it down the stairs before going back to firing her blaster again. A trooper gets off a lucky shot that punches into her breastplate and while the durasteel is strong enough to prevent the shot from penetrating, it still hurts like dank farrik.

The explosion from the grenade causes enough chaos that Dulsissia dares to holster her blaster and make a run for it. She hears the troopers shouting, her HUD flashes a warning as a blaster shot goes by her head, but Dulsissia keeps running, climbs the railing in two steps and takes a leap of blind faith into the open air.

Gravity takes a hold. She falls and reaches out one hand. Despite her HUD frantically flashing that she’s in danger, Dulsissia feels no fear. Two seconds later, Davarax’ hand grabs her wrist and she instantly takes a hold of his, letting him pull her up so she can get her arms around his torso and he gets his other arm around her waist while his jetpack holds them steady and prevents them from plummeting to their deaths.

Behind them, seven storm troopers follow through the door and spread out along the pathway to aim their blasters and are about fire when twenty Mandalorians fly up from below the ship to aim their weapons back at the troopers.

“Your ground troops have already surrendered. I have Mandalorians infiltrating the ship as we speak. Do you want to follow your leader into the after life?” Bo-Katan asks them.

It doesn’t take long before the storm troopers cautiously lower their weapons and signal their surrender.

“Are you sure I can’t persuade you to stay?” Bo-Katan asks as they are loading up the final items to the Razor Crest. “I appreciate a warrior like you on my team. We might even be able to hunt down some more beskar.”

“I am grateful for you letting us stay, but it is time we move on now.” Davarax replies. “I think we all yearn for a little freedom. And you have an imp ship, a bunch of new weapons and enemies to get information out of. I’m sure you won’t have time to go beskar hunting any time soon.”

“Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find us.” Bo-Katan declares.

Davarax nods and holds out his hand.

With a wry smile, she takes it. “At least you’re out from underground. There’s hope for you at least.”

“Careful, Lady Kryze.” Davarax says, releasing her hand. “My Covert’s determination and dedication is unmatched. Who knows, maybe one day the next Mandalor might come from there.”

“Yeah. Sure.” Bo-Katan says with mock-seriousness. She then glances over at where Dulsissia is smothering Corin, Din and Paz in a group-hug, trying to make them forgive her for refusing them to join in the fight. “She didn’t do too bad today. There might be hope for her too.”

“She’s Mandokarla.” Davarax declares with badly hidden pride.

Bo-Katan hums, clearly not entirely sold. “She talks too much.”

Laughing a little, Davarax heads over to the ship. “Goodbye, Lady Kryze.”

“Mom?” Standing in the cockpit of the Razor Crest as she is brought to life, Corin glances over at Dulsissia, and he looks so grown up and handsome in his armor that she wants to squeeze his face between her hands and plant kisses all over aforementioned face. “Where are we going now?”

Settling for reaching out and gingerly arranging a lock of his dark hair doing its best to poke up high enough to pick up a radio signal, Dulsissia smiles. “We’re going to visit someone.”

Din plots in the coordinates while Davarax has settled in the left passenger seat and is tinkering on his vambrace. The teen frowns as he sees what comes up and looks back at them. “Is this correct?”

Dulsissia’s smile widens. “Absolutely.”

Corin goes pale.

“So he’s dead?” Antonia Motti says as she enters her office. “Good. One less problem to deal with in this family.” She pauses as she sees the armored people in the room and gives one slow blink before she reaches up to her ear. “I will talk to you later.” Antonia switches off the device in her ear and lifts a dry eyebrow. “I don’t know how you lot managed to break in here, but I can assure you that you will never leave this place alive.”

Dulsissia removes her helmet and forces herself to smile. “Hello mother.”

Antonia doesn’t visibly react, merely scans her from top to toe and back up again. “You look awful.” She walks over to her desk and sits down, forcing Dulsissia to turn around to look at her. “I hear your husband is dead. I can’t say I shall mourn his absence.” “That makes two of us.” Dulsissia replies.

“Why are you here?” Antonia asks, keeping her calculating stare on her daughter and ignoring everyone else in the room. “Have you come to your senses and returned to stay? I will let your friends leave with a nice reward for bringing you home.”

Shaking her head, Dulsissia hangs on to her smile out of spite. “No. I’m not here to stay. I just stopped by to pick up some of my things before I leave for good.”

Antonia frowns a little, but she’s clearly not surprised. “You continue to disappoint me.” She sighs and shakes her head as if her daughter is a lost cause. “Where is my grandson?”

Dulsissia gestures to one of the figures.

Stepping forward, removing his helmet, Corin watches Antonia warily. “Hello.”

Antonia scans him as well and seems a little more pleased with what she sees. “No longer a timid child, but a young man. You’ve grown a lot since I saw you last, Corin.” She scans him again. “You don’t have to go with your mother, you know. If you want to, you can stay here, with me. As a Motti you will never starve, never lack for anything, and everyone will respect you.”

Corin swallows hard. “Thank you, but I’m going with them.”

Antonia makes a thoughtful hum. “That is a shame. But there is always a place for you here, Corin. Remember that.”

He nods.

Turning her attention back to Dulsissia, Antonia purses her lips with disdain. “So now what? You are going to traipse around the Galaxy looking like a half-wild woman? Dragging your innocent son with you. With these…” She waves a hand at the others. “People?”

“Yeah.” Dulsissia replies, with every bit as much arrogance as Antonia radiates. “I want him to experience what a real family feels like.” She puts her helmet back on and walks over to the door before she looks back at her mother again. “We’ll be leaving now. I suggest no one follows us.” Dulsissia hesitates before adding; “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“That’s a nice change as last time you just took off without a word.” Antonia snipes. “And don’t fool yourself, you will be back, Dulsissia. Without Macero, the lure of our world will bring you back.”

Realizing that her mother does not know her at all, Dulsissia huffs a soft laugh. “Goodbye.”

“Are are we landing?” Dulsissia was on her way up the ladder to the Razor Crest’s cockpit when Din appears and blocks her path. “It feels like we’re landing. Why are we landing?”

Din’s eyes flicker. “We, uh, the ship, it… “

“Repairs!” Raga shouts from above.

“Yeah!” Din latches on to it like the word is a life raft. “Repairs. We have to do some repairs.”

Dulsissia frowns. Repairs? There is nothing wrong with the ship. It was fully operational when they left Bo-Katan’s Covert and it hasn’t been in any combat or stressful situations since.

She looks over at Barthor sitting on the seat next to the ladder, but he just shrugs and that puzzles her a little. Usually he is the first to pick up on odd stuff. But if he’s not worried, maybe she shouldn’t be either? “Okay…” Dulsissia draws out her reply, especially as Din is not budging, strategically placed so she won’t be able to get by him.

When she slowly withdraws, Din watches her with a smile so fake she could cry.

But Corin and Paz are still slouching in their seats in the cargo hold and also show no anxiousness or suspicion whatsoever, so Dulsissia reluctantly gets back in her seat.

Only then does Din disappear. But, she is willing to bet he’d pop up like a bill collector if she approaches the ladder again.

What is going on?

The Razor Crest shudders and shivers a little before they feel it touch ground and settle.

Dulsissia is first in line when the ramp starts to lower itself, doesn’t even wait for Davarax and the others to come down from the cockpit, too curious to see where they are.

The sight stuns her.

Walking down the ramp, Dulsissia studies the surroundings, overwhelmed by the beauty. And when she eventually steps off the ramp and her feet touch soft soil and carries her out among the endless ocean of flowers stretching out as far as her eyes can see, she can’t hold back a dazed laugh. It is so incredibly beautiful! Millions and millions of flowers covering the surface in every direction under the bright teal sky.

Her heart is racing, it’s almost difficult to breathe, and she can’t stop smiling. She has never seen anything like this. She didn’t know anything like this even existed.

A sound behind her reminds Dulsissia that she’s not alone and she turns around to how the others are reacting to this amazing view, but is hit by another heart-stopping sight when she sees Davarax standing there, the kids huddled together behind him, and he’s holding out both of his hands to offer her the most exquisite looking blaster she’s ever seen.

The metal is shining silver, the design delicate and yet practical, and on the hilt is what has to be insanely expensive gem stones creating the shape of a beautiful plom bloom.

“Will you take the vows with me here?” Davarax asks, a little nervous and very hopeful.

Dulsissia has to cover her mouth with her hand for a second as her eyes well up with tears and an ugly bawl threatens to escape her lips. Once she feels she has herself back under control, despite some tears escaping as she tries to blink them away, Dulsissia nods. “Yes…”

“Yes?” Davarax dares to take a step closer.

Laughing and sobbing at the same time, Dulsissia nods. “Yes.” And she laughs and cries a little more when the kids break into loud cheers, numbly accepting the blaster and eagerly curls into the hug Davarax pulls her into.

She has to hold on to him, lean on him, for a moment or two, to once again regain some composure, but finally Dulsissia leans back and sniffles a little.

Davarax does his huff-laugh and gently wipes a tear away from her face. “You okay?”

She nods, taking a step away, wiping her face with her lower arm. “I’m fine.” Dulsissia awkwardly pats her hair and tries to shape it into something less wookiee-ish with one hand as she won’t let go of the blaster. “How do we…?”

Davarax takes her hand, makes her give up on her hair and focus on him. “You sure you want to do this? One. In this life and the next. Are you sure?”

Exhaling, grounding herself, Dulsissia meets his eyes with calm and soft happiness. “I am.”

Obviously relieved, Davarax nods. Then he has to take a breath before teaching her the words, one by one, what they mean both literally and spiritually, how they link to his Creed and what being married to a Mandalorian means.

Dulsissia listens, learns and decides this is all something she can accept and even embrace. It just feels right. She feels at peace as well as flushed with excitement that they are going to do this.

And them, amidst millions of flowers, with Corin, Din, Paz, Raga and Barthor as approving witnesses, Dulsissia and Davarax takes the vows.

Mhi solus tome. We are one together. Mhi solus dhar'tome. We are one when parted. Mhi me'dinui an. We share all. Mhi ba'juri verde. We will raise warriors.

For a moment, maybe it is just the bright sky playing tricks on her, Dulsissia could have sworn Davvarax’ eyes shimmer a little wet, but then he pulls her close and kisses her so sweetly she barely hears the kids cheering again.

They are on their fourth kiss when Dulsissia realizes the children are now running back and forth between them and the ship and a glance behind Davarax reveals they are setting up a celebration feast of sweets, cookies and other treats, carefully placed across a blanket on the ground.

She looks up at Davarax with a soft gasp. “You guys have planned this for ages!”

Davarax shrugs, trying to look guilty and failing because of the pleased smile on his lips. “I needed help to find the perfect place. And putting the blaster together. And getting the food. And… everything, really. I couldn’t have done it without them.”

Tearing up again, Dulsissia drags him down for a fifth kiss before dragging him over to the blanket. “Ooooh, this looks so nice!” She waves a finger at Barthor. “Make sure you put some aside for you, baby. Don’t make me angry on my wedding day.”

Barthor ducks his head down and makes a pleased and embarrassed huff. “Okay.”

They all settle down on the blanket. Raga slaps Paz over the fingers as he aims to grab the first cookie, declaring Dulsissia and Davarax gets to choose first. Sulking, he agrees.

Dulsissia makes sure not to touch the cookie he wanted. Davarax does the same. Which means she has to kiss him again.

“So…” Corin says, sitting on Davarax’ other side, not by his mother for once. “So now that you two are, like, married… With you married to my mom…”

Chewing on a cookie, Davarax glances over at him. “Mmh?”

“Does that mean I call you ‘Dad’ now?” Corin asks just as Davarax swallows.

Choking, coughing, wheezing, Davarax ends up grabbing a bottle of water and takes a swig from it, aware of how not only Corin, but everyone is looking at him. His spouse included.

Lowering the bottle, Davarax gets rid of the final couple of coughs still lingering before putting the bottle down again and Davarax focuses on Corin to speak the truth. “That’s entirely up to you, Corin. If you want to call me that, I would be honoured. If you want to keep calling me ‘Davarax’, that is perfectly okay. This is your choice, not my decision, and I promise that whatever you choose is fine with me.”

Dulsissia discretely slides her hand over and takes a hold of Davarax’ hand between them.

Corin frowns as he looks down at the blanket, considering things. “I always wanted a dad. My father was… my father. I read about dads and they were not like him. Dads in the books were more like…” He glances back at Davarax. “They were like you. I would like to have a dad like you.”

“And I would be proud to have you as my son.” Davarax replies in a gentle voice.

Embarrassed but so very happy, Corin dives in and wraps his arms around Davarax.

Placing his own arm around Corin, hugging him close, Davarax then leans down and quietly murmurs: “Corin. Ni kar'tayli gai sa'ad “

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #what if #Dulsissia Motti #Davarax #Teenager Corin #Fearsome Four #Mandorin AU #Sugar warning for the epilogue

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nicknellie · 4 years

Text

Context so people who haven’t seen Ghosts can still read and enjoy this: Alex is the ghost of a WWII Commanding Officer. In this fic he relives his army days before he died, telling Julie all about it, focusing on another soldier in particular - Lieutenant William Havers.

Sidenote for people who have seen Ghosts: Alex is the Captain, Julie is Alison (because I would pay real money for them to have a conversation like this in the show), and Willie is Havers.

This is the saddest thing I’ve ever written. I wanted to include Willex in the longer Ghosts AU I’m writing but I couldn’t find a natural way to fit it in so I wrote this as something completely separate. Every interaction between Alex and Willie is taken from BBC Ghosts and is very gay.

Here’s to Buried Secrets

Alex could remember it like it was yesterday. Late June in 1940 – hazy spring had bled into a dazed summer, his troops were getting restless after going on a year of work, and he was just about ready to lose his mind. That day had been one of startling revelations and hard-hitting truths, painful decisions that felt like betrayals, stagnant silences and hurt.

With the war dragging on endlessly, his troops had been getting complacent. They did critical work at their base, top secret and crucial to the war effort, but there were times where nothing would happen for days at a time and the troops would get bored. Their behaviour was beginning to waver, and though he wasn’t too against it overall (he understood why they were acting up, he was bored to death too) Alex had to do the right thing and set them straight.

“Now,” he said, “that brings me neatly to point sixteen. There is still a great deal of noise going on at night – laughing, giggling, horseplay. Now, we all get bored – that’s inevitable in our circumstances – but may I remind you, we are at war. I wo…”

He had let his sentence trail off. At that moment, the doors at the back of the room had swung open and in walked Willie. Lieutenant William Havers was Alex’s right-hand man and close friend. There couldn’t always be much room for friendships when at war, and living in such close quarters with everyone in the house could make bonding difficult, but there was something about Willie and Alex that had allowed them simply to click. They understood each other – they cared for each other. Perhaps a little too much.

“Ah, Lieutenant,” Alex greeted, interrupting his own speech.

Willie walked towards him, hand outstretched, holding a small, folded piece of paper. “Communique for you, sir, from HQ, marked urgent.”

“Ah,” Alex returned, taking the note. “Finally! This’ll be my requisition for a service revolver.”

Willie smiled gently as Alex unfolded the note, and Alex suppressed his own. But as soon as he read the note, there was no smile left to hide. This was that first striking blow, that devastating loss; the note brought with it the news of a surrender.

“Good God,” Alex exclaimed, skimming the note over again, making sure he’d read it correctly.

“Sir?” Willie prompted, sounding concerned.

“France has surrendered,” Alex explained.

“My God,” muttered Willie. The troops, still assembled to the side of the two men, began murmuring amongst themselves, the tension in the room much higher now than when Alex had been telling them they needed to go to bed on time.

Alex looked out the window, scanning the sky for any sign of attack. It was silly, he knew – nothing could have happened so quickly – but as it was wont to do, his anxiety began to overwhelm him.

“The Germans are coming,” he said, breath hitching in his throat.

“I don’t think they’ll be here just yet, sir,” Willie told him.

Alex shook his head, regained control. Willie was always good at doing that; he could sense when Alex needed help to calm down, and he could do so with an easy joke, a clever quip. Coming from anyone else, talking to a commanding officer that way might have been a sign of disrespect, but from Willie it was just what Alex needed.

“What? Right,” Alex agreed.

Willie could see he was still distressed. “May I suggest we initiate the emergency lockdown protocol, sir?” he said easily.

“Yes!” Alex exclaimed. He was eternally thankful for Willie – God only knew where he would be without that man by his side. “Yes, jolly good.” He turned to address his troops. “Now, it’s vital that nothing fall into enemy hands.”

“You heard the CO,” Willie said to the troops as Alex turned to watch out the window again. “Get to your duties.”

The troops dispersed in a cloud of excited but nervous chatter, getting to their stations, hiding their work. Alex was left alone with Willie, his only comfort. As Willie came to stand by the window with him, that easy, dashing smile on his lips, Alex felt himself both tense and relax. His worry ebbed away, but it was replaced with the hammering of his heart and a shortness of breath.

“Er… exciting times, Willie,” he ventured. He knew he should have called Willie by his proper title, or at least his surname, but when in private the two were much more open and colloquial with each other. Besides, in the wake of such a bombshell using his first name didn’t seem so scandalous. “If they do invade, we might get a proper pop at Jerry.”

“Yes,” Willie said through a chuckle. But the smile on his face dropped after a moment. Alex felt his heart plummet – Willie was usually all smiles and it was never good when they fell away. “About that, sir… I know we do vital work here, sir… but I want to get involved in the fighting. I’ve put in for a transfer.”

Alex felt like his breath had been stolen from him. Here again, that blow to the gut, that crushing feeling of betrayal. He knew distantly that Willie wasn’t betraying him and he could understand why he wanted to go. What stung was that he was only finding out after the fact. Though he knew also why Willie hadn’t told him: because they both knew that Alex would have done everything in his power to stop him, and it would have been too painful for either of them to bear.

Neither of them had ever mentioned it, but there was something magical about the bond they had. It was like they shared a soul, improved each other, completed one another. Alex didn’t want to think too hard about it. The thought of what he and Willie could have been was painful in innumerable ways.

He still didn’t voice those thoughts now, even though he knew it may be one of the only chances he had left. Instead, through a hitch in his voice, he said, “You’re leaving?”

Willie didn’t reply for a moment, a pregnant pause growing between them, pushing them apart. It stung, and Alex couldn’t feel anything.

But then Willie gathered himself and said, “There’s talk of a North Africa front.”

“Yes,” Alex replied, nodding like it all made perfect sense, like he didn’t feel as if he were going to die. “Yes, well, I totally understand, of course. Carry on.”

He ended it like a command, an order. It wasn’t because he wanted to be apart from Willie - no, he wanted to keep him close by forever - but he needed to grasp some semblance of control and giving orders, doing his job as CO let him do just that - be in control, understand what was happening.

“Thank you,” Willie replied, excruciatingly quiet, ducking his head.

He left the room and Alex in musty silence, the air heavy with revealed secrets and suffocating like gas. Alex’s mind was swimming, fogged with hopeless fantasies, weighed down by the knowledge that the one person who kept him going would soon be leaving him.

Alex had almost forgotten that Julie was there until he looked around and saw her watching him. He was dragged back down from his own mind, his own dredged up memories, and instead reminded himself that he had been telling her all that, not reliving it for no good reason. Perhaps he’d got a bit too caught up in it all, lost in his own head.

He cleared his throat. “Yes. Willie was wonderful. A very fine soldier. I never found what became of him, though, after he left for North Africa. We exchanged letters for a while, but it was difficult – what with the top-secret work I was doing, we couldn’t have addresses being traced and whatnot. We soon fell out of touch, and then… well, I died.”

Julie reached out as if to take his hand, but then seemed to remember they couldn’t touch, so rested it in the space between them on the sofa. Alex smiled weakly, laid his own hand beside hers. He tried to avoid looking her in the eye – her expression radiated pity and it was the last thing he wanted to see.

“I’m sorry, Alex,” she said gently. “It must have been awful.”

“Luckily, a true soldier like me becomes adept at hiding his feelings,” he said, trying for light and joking but clearly missing his target. “Besides. I couldn’t worry my troops. Had to keep morale up, which was difficult enough in itself. It was… it was rather a lot to come to terms with.”

“What happened when he left?” Julie asked softly.

Alex sighed. “Well…”

Alex had been in his office just a few days later. He was staring down at an envelope, carefully sealed. In it was the blueprints for a new limpet mine, a prototype bomb that would perhaps revolutionise the war had it not been so unstable – Alex and Willie had been trying to create a version that was safer, easier to use, but so far had come up empty. They had been instructed to dispose of the bomb and its blueprints; the mission would be dropped.

The envelope was marked simply with the word ‘William’. That was what the operation was called, its codename. Alex had been the one to decide upon it, uncreatively naming it after the first thing he saw, which just so happened to be his lieutenant sat by his side. Willie was the only other one to know about Operation William and when he left it would just be Alex.

Alex had imagined many a time that the contents of the envelope were something entirely different, that the name on the front was to address someone rather than to hide something. In his dreams, there was a letter inside written in his own handwriting and it spilled every deep dark secret he was keeping. It would be addressed to Willie and for his eyes only. In his dreams, Willie would write his own letter in return, addressed to Alex.

He would never write that letter, he knew. It could get him killed.

He was snapped out of his reverie by a knock at his office door.

“Come,” he called, tucking the envelope into the inside pocket of his jacket.

The door opened and Willie let himself in, shutting it behind him, standing to attention.

“Ah, Willie,” Alex greeted, glad to see him as usual. “At ease, at ease. I was just thinking about you, actually. How’s the emergency lockdown coming?”

“Very good, sir,” Willie returned, smiling sweetly. “Most items have been squared away, as per the order.”

“Excellent,” Alex returned, beaming. He moved to stand behind his desk, closer to Willie but with a barrier between them. As he tried to speak, Willie began too. “I see–”

“I’ve come to tell you that–”

Both laughed, nerves buzzing between them. Alex knew what his were about – he could only guess and hope as to why Willie seemed a little on edge. The space between them felt charged with expectation, though what it was for Alex didn’t know.

“Sorry,” he said, returning Willie’s genuine but faltering smile, “you first, Lieutenant.”

There was a pause. Uncomfortable, excruciatingly anticipatory. The last remains of Willie’s smile crumbled and he swallowed before he said those few words that would tear down the last of Alex’s resolve and ruin him forever, haunting every dream and nightmare and waking moment. The words that would echo in his head whenever there was silence. The words he would fall asleep thinking about every night from that day forward.

“I’m afraid I’m leaving you, sir… At eighteen-hundred hours this evening.”

The world stilled. Alex wasn’t sure his heart was beating anymore. The part of their shared soul that was Willie’s was torn away from him. He came up blank.

“So soon?” was what came out of his mouth, weak, desperate, small. He hated himself for it, so tried for light-heartedness and gestured to the shining new gun on Willie’s belt. “That would explain your new service revolver. I don’t suppose they sent one for me, did they?”

“Only for front-line personnel at this stage, sir,” Willie said, a light but forced smile on his face.

“Of course. Yes.”

“It’s North Africa, sir,” Willie said. There was something like hope in his voice – it felt like he was asking Alex not to be too upset. Be proud, he was asking. Be happy. For me. “I’ll be able to have a proper swing at Fritz!”

“You make sure you give them a bloody nose,” Alex joked.

He answered Willie’s silent plea for his blessing, his reassurance, his pride, and he tried hard to be positive. He attempted a half-hearted fake punch, throwing it in Willie’s direction and was delighted when Willie responded (if only subtly) as if he’d been struck. Willie was grinning, looking happy, looking excited. Alex had to try and be excited for him too.

But still he said, “I shall miss you, Willie.”

Willie’s face fell again. Alex half-hoped his meaning hadn’t been easy to decipher. He knew what he meant, he knew why he’d said it, but it was a stupid and dangerous thing to say – a stupid and dangerous thing to hope for. Willie swallowed heavily, his throat bobbing, and Alex couldn’t read his expression. Though he was fairly certain it was something similar to his own.

He had always known that Willie felt it too, this forbidden and electric thing between them, whatever it was. This shared soul that was now breaking in two, never to be repaired, never to be recreated. It was this moment that Alex realised he and Willie could never have what they wanted.

So he backtracked.

“By which I mean, of course, that we shall miss you. And I know the Wilson House XI will certainly miss your cover drive.”

Willie’s smile came back too slowly. Alex knew his lie hadn’t come quick enough. He knew the unspoken words and unwritten messages were still there between them, heavy and quaking and full of fear, sadness, silence, and things neither wanted to put a name too. They danced around it, though they wouldn’t have to for much longer. Just a few more hours and whatever they had would be shredded forever as Willie said goodbye.

“Thank you, sir,” Willie said. “Well… if that’s all?”

Alex collected himself, simply looked at Willie for a moment before making himself reply. “Yes.”

Willie nodded, took it as his cue to leave. He pulled the door open and was on his way out of the room.

There was so much Alex wanted to say, so much he wanted to do. He wanted to spend a hundred more sleepless nights with Willie, working on secret projects and perfecting weapons. He wanted a thousand more late night conversations spoken in metaphors and riddles, deciphering each other, growing closer, learning more about their relationship than was permitted. He wanted a million more moments just to look at Willie’s face, to dream of what he couldn’t have.

All he wanted was to speak this silent truth that hung between them like a noose – damn him if it killed them both.

He called him back. “I say, Willie?”

Willie turned faster than lightning, hand rested on the doorknob but eyes trained on Alex like his face was all he ever wanted to see.

He tried to say all he wanted to, but knew he could never. It appeared he just had time for one last metaphor, a final riddle, one last waltz around their dire and doomed reality.

“It’s a bally shame we won’t get to finish the operation together,” he said.

Judging by the look on Willie’s face, the message was received loud and clear. Willie offered a smile, genuine but bittersweet. And without a word, he left the room.

Alex took the little envelope out of his pocket again, stared down at it. He had wanted to bury Operation William alongside Willie – they had both worked so hard but for nothing and it seemed only right they should rid the world of this failure together. But Alex would have to do it alone.

If only he could write that imaginary letter now, he thought. There was so much he could say, but not enough words in the English language to say it. There weren’t words to describe the abject loss he found himself steeped in, the gaping hole that had opened in his chest, the weeping wound that would never quite heal.

That night, alone, he went into the garden with the blueprints and the prototype bomb and he buried them both. With it, he buried all memory and evidence of himself and Willie, all their hard work, all they had built and experienced together.

He bottled those emotions to never let them out.

“He left that night,” Alex said to Julie, “six o’clock on the dot. The rest of our crew saw him off, waving from the doorway, but I stayed in my office. I told them I had paperwork to do.”

“Did you get to say goodbye?” Julie asked.

Alex sighed. “That conversation… well, that was our goodbye. The rest of the house was in chaos so I didn’t have another chance to speak with him alone, everyone needed either my assistance or his.”

Julie’s eyes were brimming with tears; Alex didn’t look at her, or his own eyes would have watered too. “So that was it? That was the last you saw of him?”

“Sort of. I watched him leave from my office window. He… he gave me one last wave from the gate then disappeared, off on his own adventure. Without me.”

“Don’t you wonder what happened to him?” Julie asked, shuffling closer to Alex on the sofa.

“All the time,” Alex breathed. “I looked for his name in every newspaper and every message I received after we lost contact but I never heard of him again.”

“Would you like me to Google him?” Julie suggested. She had explained this whole ‘Googling’ thing to him a while ago and from Alex’s understanding she simply had to type Willie’s name into the little search bar and all his information would come up in an instant. It was quite remarkable, really, and perhaps it would give him that last little bit of closure. And yet…

“No,” he said, “no, thank you, Julie. It’s quite alright. I… I have this version in my head of who he became and I shouldn’t like to spoil it. I shouldn’t like to taint what memory I have left of him, should his life have turned sour.”

Julie smiled softly. “What’s the image in your head like?”

Alex cleared his throat. “Well… I suppose I like to imagine that he was the best soldier out there on the North Africa front. He rose to a position of command – that was where he thrived, really, but good Lord was he good behind a gun. He was well-respected and kind and his men adored him. And I pray that he survived the war, that he made a living for himself, that he got everything he could have ever wanted in life. Really, I suppose… I suppose I just imagine him to be happy. That’s all I could have ever wanted for him. And if I were to find out he were not happy, well… no, I quite like the Willie I remember.”

Julie left a pause before she spoke again. Alex could see the cogs turning in her mind, could see her wondering if she should say whatever was on the tip of her tongue. He knew what was coming the moment she opened her mouth.

“Did you love him, Alex?”

Alex stood, crossed the room and stood by the window. His hands clasped behind his back, swagger stick gripped tightly, he looked outside, eyes trained on the gate. How many times had he stood here during the war and after, waiting for what he had lost to return, hoping in vain that by some miracle he could be granted his happiness? How many times had he wished for what he could not have? How many times had he replayed those final moments in his head, watching Willie wave goodbye?

It happened again as he stood there. It was as if a cloud came over him, throwing him back decades, putting him right back where he started. Willie stood by the gate, thick coat donned, hat atop his head, his bag slung over his shoulder. He waved up at Alex, and Alex smiled back.

“Yes,” he said at last, so quietly that he thought Julie may not have heard him. A great weight was lifted from his shoulders, decades of repression undermined in that one admission of his true feelings. It wasn’t enough – it never would be because he’d never said it to Willie – but acceptance was a start.

Slow as death, Willie – Alex’s version of him – ceased his waving and walked through the gate, disappearing into the darkness to where Alex would never follow. And for the first time after reliving that agonising memory, Alex let himself smile.

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professorsnape394 · 4 years

Text

The Potions Master’s Apprentice

Chapter Five: The Calm before the Storm

A/N: This is the fifth part to my fanfiction ‘The Potions Master’s Apprentice (Severus Snape x OC)’. Chapters 1-16 can be found already uploaded on Wattpad under the same name. Feel free to leave requests in my inbox for anything Snape related you want me to write. Leave a comment below if you wish to be added to my tag list.

Pairing: Severus Snape x OC (Dumbledore’s Granddaughter)

Summary: A talented young witch is employed as an apprentice professor at Hogwarts, but who will she be working under? Severus Snape is not best pleased with his new responsibility of taking on an apprentice, however she is relentless to create a friendship between them. Will she be successful? Or might the friendship just go a little two far? With the eyes of her grandfather constantly watching over them, an attempt at a relationship might not be in the cards for Aria Dumbledore and Severus Snape.

Word Count: 2128

Warnings: n/a

Credits to Gif Creator

Severus Snape spent the next two weeks drowning in fire whiskey. When he returned to his quarters after spending an evening with Miss Dumbledore, he could not get her out of his mind. He hated himself for it, but she had admittedly charmed him with her striking beauty and captivating personally.

Having somewhat sobered up from the evening drinks, Severus took it upon himself to crack open another bottle of Firewhiskey, downing glass by glass until he no longer remembered how he felt about the woman.

The days that followed simply became harder to forget about her, as she would often come calling to his office; private quarters and classroom in search for the brooding Professor. Each time she came knocking Snape shied away from her, keeping his doors locked, and poured yet another measure of the burning liquid down his throat in the hope that she would disappear from his memory all together.

This was not him. He thought to himself. His whole life he had resisted the temptation of women like her. This was not to say he had never felt the touch of another, he had in his youth had his fair share of women upon leaving Hogwarts. But never had he caught feelings like those that were threatening to surface, except for one other woman. The thought of his first love forced yet another glass of whiskey down his throat.

As of now his feelings for Miss Dumbledore were purely physical but he did not want to risk them developing into something much more complex. Vowing never to fall for Aria as he had for Lily Evans, Severus built his walls higher than before, making himself impenetrable to the charms of Miss Dumbledore.

Staring at the bottom of yet another empty glass the Professor knew the only way he could resist his urges and keep the woman away, was to use his feelings for her to fuel his (now) hatred. Every kind word she spoke to him was ammunition for mockery. Every question she asked him was an excuse to belittle her. Soon enough she would take the hint and keep her distance. At the very least it would surely provoke her frustration and spark disagreements between the two. No relationship with the woman would of course be better than a bad relationship, but if he had to settle, he would gladly take the latter.

Reaching the end of yet another bottle Severus dumped the vessel into nearby bin, finally retiring for the night.

Countless bottles of Firewhiskey and Nettle Wine later, the castle gradually begun to fill with numerous Professors and various other members of staff. The school year would resume in two days time and Severus needed to get his act together in order to once again face his new apprentice.

The night before the students were set to arrive via the Hogwarts Express, Headmaster Dumbledore sent out a formal reminder to the staff regarding the start of year feast. Aria was well aware the feast was a tradition here at Hogwarts where a ceremony was held and the new first year students were sorted into their respective houses. She was not, however, aware that the night before the official grand feast the professors sat down to a banquet of their own. It was stated in her letter than all staff were required to attend. Aria assumed this was included more or less for the benefit of Severus, whom she knew would try at all costs to avoid attending, possibly even more so now then any year before, though she wasn't entirely sure why the sallow-skinned Professor had been avoiding her these past weeks.

Admittedly, she missed the man, though they had only really spent a few days together, she was getting used his company and her loneliness only made the days longer. She had tried to talk to him, ask him why he had been avoiding her. However, after receiving no response when she sought him out, and due to their conversation at the Three Broomsticks detailing the man's introverted personality, she decided not to pester him further. Instead, she chose to busy herself preparing alone for the school year. Until the past few days that is, when the castle begun to fill with Professors and she thought she may as well get to know some of them.

Almost instantly Professor McGonagall took Aria under her wing and set about introducing the girl to her fellow colleagues. The two witches got along so fast, Miss Dumbledore almost wished to become her apprentice instead. Sadly, Aria was not particularly skilled in the art of Transfiguration. After a few days of brief meetings with almost all of the staff, Minerva invited Aria to afternoon tea in her office. Getting on like a house on fire, Aria felt all the nerves that had been building up within her over the last month slowly melt away. Minerva happily chatted away with the young woman, feeling she too had found a great friend.

Sooner than Aria may have liked the subject eventually turned to the subject of her mentor, Severus Snape. Minerva couldn't wait to her Miss Dumbledore's thoughts on the man. Although she also considered Severus a close friend, she knew he would not be happy with the situation and was dying to hear of his reaction. It of course came as a great shock to her when Aria Dumbledore began to spill the details of her brief encounters with the Professor.

"He was harsh at first." Aria begun. "I knew he wasn't happy with the arrangement at all, he clearly resented me for coming here and invading his space. He seemed like a very foul man."

Minvera smiled knowingly at the young woman, never had she heard a description so accurate, though she secretly knew he was not all bad. Not that he would ever show it. She thought to herself, of course she was moments away from being proven wrong.

"Don't worry about it too much, my dear. He'll eventually get used to your position here and then he wont be so cruel... simply unpleasant." She chuckled to herself. "He's not truly as hateful as you might think. He does have a heart somewhere in there."

"Oh I know." Aria exclaimed. "It took a few days but we found a rhythm of working that suited us both. Eventually we were getting along quite pleasantly. That was, until the night we had a meal at the Three Broomsticks. Then I have no idea what happened, I haven't seen him since." Miss Dumbledore pondered.

"You and Severus had a meal at the Three Broomsticks." Minerva gawped, her eyes almost falling out of her head in disbelief.

"Yes, he didn't seem too keen on the idea initially, but he seemed to reason with himself and finally came around."

"Aria, my dear, dear girl." Professor McGonagall shook her head, trying to get a grasp of what the young witch was telling her. "You do realise Professor Snape, does not socialise with anyone." Minerva tried to state her point, hoping the woman would catch her drift.

"Yes, he did mention that. I guess he's coming out of his shell." She shrugged.

"No, no, no." Minerva shook her head once again, bringing a palm to her face. "You do not understand. I have known this man since he first came to Hogwarts at the age of twelve. He had rarely shown interest in any other human being his whole life, and he certainly does not go out for meals with his coworkers for a simple chat. Especially not one of your beauty."

"What are you saying?" Aria looked confused, not liking what the older woman was insinuating.

"I'm not saying anything, my dear." McGonagall placed a hand over Aria's, reassuringly. "Except... I consider Severus a close friend, and although he doesn't show it, I believe he feels the same. And never, I mean never, has he agreed to socialise with me just for the fun of it. The man never leaves his chambers, my dear."

What Minvera said stuck with Aria for the rest of the day. She was even more confused than ever now. Why had Severus been avoiding her for so long, if he clearly liked her more than the rest of his colleagues. Why had he spent the time listening to her, talking to her and walking her back to her quarters, to only cut all contact the next day. She knew he was a mysterious man from the moment they met, but this was just plain confusing.

This thought circled in her mind even as she made her way to the Great Hall for the first meal of the semester. Although she knew Severus was required to be there, she presumed he would keep his distance, and with the overwhelming amount of staff and topics to get caught up on she did not expect they would have any conversation at all.

When she arrived the table was already more than half full, but still Severus was no where to be seen.

"My dear, sweet, Granddaughter." Dumbledore beamed. "Come and join us." He beckoned her over, gesturing to the empty space next to his at the top of the table. Thankfully she had been positioned next to Minerva, though she feared for who would take the seat opposite, knowing that almost everyone except one was present. Embarrassed by her Grandfather's introduction she hurriedly sat down, and began talking with Minerva, hoping no one was staring at her too much.

Dumbledore wasted no time in waiting for the final seat to be filled, and it seemed the rest of the staff had forgotten that Severus even existed. That was until, half an hour into the meal, when the doors to the Great Hall, swung open violently, causing a loud and startling bang to echo through the gigantic room. Instantly the ramble of excited chatter stopped, everyone staring at the culprit. Almost immediately upon noticing the bat-like Professor enter the room, cloak billowing behind him, the chatter commenced once more. The Potions master's reputation was more than proven to Miss Dumbledore, as it appeared even the staff did not want to face his wrath. His presence was known and he was feared. This was more than enough to intimidate Aria into keeping her mouth shut for the rest of the meal.

"I'm glad you could finally join us, Severus. Please, sit." Dumbledore spoke softly, grinning at his friend.

Snape did not return the gesture, his features perturbed into an aggravated scowl.

"It is a wonder I even made it here at all, Headmaster." Severus sneered. "I suppose everyone else received a letter, detailing the time of the feast. However, sadly." He spat. "My owl must have fainted on the job, for I did not receive such a thing. Is it your intention, to excluded me, Professor Dumbledore."

The chatter had quietened now, everyone curiously listening in to the dispute. A dispute, which Dumbledore appeared to find rather amusing, evident by the growing grin appearing on his face. Taking a slow sip of wine, Albus let the Professor stand waiting on his answer.

"That is not my intention, at all, Professor Snape. But I assumed due to the ever expanding collection of empty FireWhiskey bottles in your rubbish bin, that you would be, shall we say, preoccupied, at this time." Albus shot him a disapproving look and a small frown before, turning his attention elsewhere.

"How dare you." Snape raged, ready to continue the argument Professor Dumbledore deemed complete.

"Take a seat, Severus, before you miss any more of the meal." Albus continued, like he had not just outed Severus' small drinking problem to the whole of the staff. This however, was the incentive Severus needed to sober up and act professionally once more. He knew this was a warning from his employer and if he continued his antics his job would be on the line. His replacement was already lined up. He thought, reluctantly taking his seat across from said woman.

As everyone had, Aria couldn't help but listen to the conversation unfold. Terrified of catching Severus' eye, she focused on the three rogue peas that danced around her fork. She thought about the Professor sitting alone all those nights he had ignored her, downing glass after glass of whiskey. Knowing him, he didn't seem the type to have a problem like that. He was clearly a very disciplined man with rock solid self-control. So what on earth could have forced him to act in such a self-destructive manner?

At least now she had an answer as to what he had been up to while avoiding her all this time but the main question still remained. Why?

Taglist:

@ayamenimthiriel

#severus snape #severus snape imagine #severus x oc #severus snape one shot #Harry Potter #harry potter and the goblet of fire #harry potter fanfiction #severus snape fanfiction #alan rickman #severus x reader #severus x y/n #potions master #potions masters apprentice #professor snape #dumbledores granddaughter #dumbledore #severus snape fluff #severus snape smut

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efrmellifer · 3 years

Text

Devoir

Etien’s entire face screwed up as the linkpearl’s distinctive chime greeted her ear.

“Do you remember when I used to complain about sleeping in sand? I’d sleep in sand if it meant I got to lie down and stay down. Hmm, Aymeric? Aymeric?” She pawed at the empty spot of mattress next to her. “Oh for the love of the Fury.”

At last, she remembered what had woken her, and opened the line. “Yes?” She was silent, eyes bouncing between spots on the wall across from her as she listened to the voice on the other end.

“Yes. I’ll be there.” The line closed, and Etien sighed. “Well, I knew it was going to end eventually.”

She rose from bed then, coming first to Landric’s cradle, cooing to him as she laid a hand on his stomach. “Oh, little man, you’ve been so quiet. Picking up Estinien’s stoicism already, is that it?”

Bundling him against her chest in one arm, she laid the other hand on Betula. “Betula,” she sang. When the bright green eyes popped open, Etien smiled. “Good morning, sweet pea.”

It was easier now, to trundle the twins up and into her arms to begin the morning’s tasks. First, their change, then cooking—to start with, food for herself, then a lunch for Aymeric.

It was the best way to ensure he ate, stopping by the Congregation and handing the box over.

Plus, the cooking gave her a chance to slot one or the other of the children into a sling across her body and let them nurse.

It usually worked pretty well, that one of them was full and asleep again by the time she was changing between what she was cooking, so she just eased them out and into a little crib in the corner, then got the other to eat while she kept at it on the stove.

The whole process for carrying them with her outside the home was more ridiculous-looking, even when it made just as much sense.

They slept side by side against her chest in a specially-designed carrier, draped under a fur-lined cloak so she could keep them and herself warm when she entered the chilly air of Ishgard.

She almost wished she'd been raising them in the Black Shroud, but then that would cause her to have dark, depressing wonderings about a life that could have been.

So no. She preferred keeping Betula and Landric draped in furs to stay warm, because that meant she was here, safe and warm and happy. And so, so loved.

She walked slowly, so as not to jostle and wake the babies, and made her way down the steps to Foundation that were just outside the manor’s door. Of course, it was a longer walk through the Brume, then, but she hoped the rhythm of her footsteps and her low hum kept her children soothed as she traversed the stones of their home.

“You’re going to visit your Da,” she whispered, “won’t that be fun?”

Etien was such a fixture in the Congregation now (and really, hadn’t she been for four years?) that she was waved directly to the door that led to Aymeric’s office, and let in right away, barring anything especially severe going on within beforehand.

So when the door clicked shut behind her, Aymeric looked up, and seeing that she wasn’t in distress, turned back to his work for a moment to complete his thought.

“Ah, the whole family came along,” he noted when he saw the thick drape over Etien.

“Well, not quite. In a funny twist, I was about to tell you—I think we’re going to need Estinien. Which means, Tataru’s been scouring for him extra-hard, and despite my not saying a peep about where he’s been, she’s about to hit Ishgardian permafrost pay-dirt.”

Aymeric rested his chin on his hand, chuckling. “After he tried so hard.”

“They found him once, they threatened that they would do it again. The Scions are people of their word, unfortunately.”

“Their? Not our?”

Etien shrugged, unbuttoning the shoulder of the cloak, but letting it hang on her still. “Am I a Scion?”

“You look like today you’re playing the role of Culinarian,” Aymeric remarked, gesturing to the parcel in her hand, its binding string clutched tight in her middle finger.

“Oh, this? I wanted to make sure you ate. In any event, the Scions are coming for hide and hair of the Azure Dragoon Emeritus, and I’m… needed at the Rising Stones. So I’m taking Betula and Landric to Toto and the Aldynns’ for the day. I figure you can pick them up tonight, if I’m not back?”

“Of course, my dearest.”

She smiled, laying down the box, then left Aymeric’s office.

It was with a heart just slightly heavy that Etien handed the infants over, but the care with which Toto took them eased the burden slightly.

Etien had known this day was coming, but now that it was here… she was just glad that she had family that would be able to help her with it. Maybe the yoke was only on her shoulders, but at least someone else was able to man the plow, metaphorically speaking.

She kissed Betula’s forehead, then Landric’s. “Be good for Aunt Toto,” she told them, “and then for your Da.” She looked up from them then. “Thank you, Toto. I… wish it wasn’t like this.”

They shared a look, and then Etien left, the points of her teeth sinking into her lip so she didn’t start crying.

She stood in front of the mirror as she dressed, watching as if it were someone else pulling up her tights and fastening the garters—Estinien had never commented, but look, now she wore garters—doing up the busks on her corset, buckling her belt. She smiled as she settled the crown of preserved flowers on her head—magicked to give her additional protection—and it was only halfway forced. She was happy to be wearing her battle gear again, and she had always felt a sense of pride in what she had long been calling “her colors.” The weren’t the Ishgardian colors of which Nanamo had spoken, which had been a Fortemps knight’s armor. They weren’t an Adder uniform, a Temple Knight’s regalia. They were the clothing of Etien Mellifer, Hydaelyn’s Champion and Scion of the Seventh Dawn. She guessed.

Warrior of Light, Bringer of Darkness. Amatrix et Bellatrix.

She took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders back as she settled her new bow between them.

It was a quick journey by aether between Ishgard and the Ala Mhigan Quarter, and it hadn’t left her enough time to reason when she entered the Alliance Meeting that it was, in fact, the Alliance. All of them.

“G’raha, sit across from the Lord Commander, would you?” Thancred asked.

Etien snorted, sitting to G’raha’s right, scooting in close to the table and then sighing when she realized that no matter how far she stretched her legs under it, the toe of her boot wouldn’t come into contact with Aymeric’s sabatons.

She already knew that, but the disappointment washed over her anew every time she tried.

Instead, she crossed her arms and sat back, batting her eyelashes at him.

“Not this time, either?” he asked her.

“Never,” she replied, deflating. “But that’s okay, I can always be the one to bring the tea around.” She winked, and Y’shtola snapped to get her attention.

With a huff, she leaned on the table, looking toward Urianger.

Aymeric hung around afterward, close to but not quite shadowing Etien while she talked to the other Scions.

Their greetings to her were remarkably understated, considering it had been months since they’d last seen her, but he tried not to be offended on her behalf. She was all business, stood with a hip cocked as they talked about what to do next, now that Lunar Bahamut had wreaked havoc in Ala Mhigo and now was doing much the same with the dragons of Meracydia.

He tipped his head in curiosity as Etien leaned into the gesture of answering her linkpearl, stepping back to get out of her way as she walked toward him, until she reached out with her free hand and took hold of his coat, holding him still.

He laid an arm around her back as she rested against him racked with… snickering? She covered her mouth as the corners of her eyes crinkled, and then she sobered up, letting go of Aymeric’s coat and responding to Tataru.

“Yes, if you just caught wind of him headed that way, then we’ll have to get there before he can set off again. Thank you for the update.”

Aymeric’s eyebrows rose as he finally met Etien’s eyes.

Estinien, she mouthed, “they’ve found him, apparently. Heading to Ishgard.”

“Wasn’t he just—?”

She shushed him. “We know that.”

They turned toward each other to hide the laughter that pealed through them.

Alphinaud came to their sides just as they’d collected themselves again, instructing Etien to tell Tataru to send the Bonanza to Ishgard, in case they had to chase down Estinien.

Silly little Scions. If only they knew how to properly convince him.

Then again, they couldn’t ask so nicely as she could, could they?

Still, Alphinaud was already walking off, ready to go, so Etien sighed. She turned back to Aymeric. “I go in search of our third half. I imagine I’ll beat you to Ishgard, and be run off my feet, so…” She looked around, her ears tipping back to hear if anyone important was behind her before she stepped closer to Aymeric. Her tail flicked back and forth once, twice, before she pounced to press a kiss to his lips, taking him utterly by surprise. “I’ll see you later, darling,” she said when her heels had hit the stones again.

And with the glimmer of aether as she finished her incantation, she was gone.

Etien shook her head as she entered the Congregation again.

“Hello, Lucia,” she said said with a tired exhale. “Have you seen Estinien?”

“We were not aware he had returned to Ishgard,” she replied. “But as I expect you remember, he is wont to come and go as he pleases.”

“Oh, none know it better than I, save one,” Etien remarked, already heading back to the door. “Thank you anyroad.”

That left the others a little time to find him while she went to the airship landing, at least.

So she was surprised to find them all waiting there already.

“Did you find him?”

Alisaie was the first to admit that none of them had had any luck.

When G’raha commented that he expected more excitement for the return of the Azure Dragoon, Etien bit her lip to stay silent.

Eventually she got out a noncommittal “these are odd times.”

The sound of footsteps, marked with a familiar jingle of armor saved her from having to elaborate, so she looked up, already smiling up at him.

She was so happy to see him. Even if it hadn’t been as long for her as it was others.

Her eyes were slowly widening as some mix of the Coerthan air and shock froze her in place as she watched him attempt to ruffle Alisaie’s hair, telling her that it had been too long… Alphinaud.

Oh no.

She didn’t even have time to form her rebuttal to the idea that she had been teaching “Alphinaud” to be strong and silent, she was so busy trying to make sure she would stay rooted to her spot when Alisaie went more explosive than Magitek cannons.

Etien’s eyes were starting to freeze around the edges from how wide open they were.

But she blinked and gave a sheepish smile when Estinien turned to her, asking pointedly for an explanation.

Alisaie stepped closer, watching Etien as she gazed at Estinien and Alphinaud talking.

“Maybe he sees them—Estinien and Arenvald—as the brothers he never had,” Etien replied to Alisaie’s story about how Alphinaud refused to make friends with other boys.

“It hasn’t been easy being his sister,” Alisaie huffed.

Etien hummed. “Hmm. Aye, but it’s never easy being a sibling, is it?”

On the airship to Azys Lla, they stayed in small clusters; Alphinaud, Alisaie, and G’raha all stood together toward the back, while Etien and Estinien stood side by side nearer to the bow, the wind lifting the ends of their hair as they went.

“Are they...easy to tell apart?” Estinien whispered, leaning down to speak directly into Etien’s swiveling ear, so he could be heard over the wind.

She laughed aloud then, the sound carrying all the way to the stern.

“I think they are, but I’ve spent far more time with them. With bothof them. If nothing else, you have their earrings to go by. Or weapons, on the battlefield. If the Leveilleur you’re looking at has a sword, it’s Alisaie. And she’ll use it on you if you don’t get it right.”

Estinien chuckled. “I shall defer to your extensive experience and will not try it for myself.”

Azys Lla wasn’t far off now, so they grew somber again, preparing for what they had to do there.

It would be hard for Etien’s heart to soften further toward the First Brood orEstinien, but when he said that he felt at least somewhat responsible for Tiamat’s welfare, seeing as Nidhogg was part of him… she did feel something shift for the gentler.

She wished he’d done the same as he talked to her, but that just wouldn’t be Estinien, would it?

No matter. They learned of the Bahamut that came before his calamitous return, and Tiamat wasn’t tempered anymore.

There was—and Etien figured that she shouldn’t have been surprised, at this stage in the game—more to be done. More for her to do.

To Paglth’an they went, by way of Ul’dah.

When Aymeric had heard that the Scion contingent had indeed tracked down Estinien, and that they had gone from Azys Lla to Ul’dah, he wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. But he knew what that meant. Worse, he was moments from heading the same way himself.

He too had offered his apologies to Toto, and told his children to be good for their aunt.

But now, it was time to clear a path for the Warrior of Light and her helpers.

He offered his prayers to Halone for guidance, and set out, Lucia at his side.

There was hardly time to sight-see, when she was fighting Magitekand Meracydian dragons, but Etien remembered this had once been home to a dear friend of hers. Like the verdant beauty of Alder Springs did to Etien, these fields may have evoked a heart-aching nostalgia. So she tried to tread lightly as she ran headlong into fulfilling her duty. Stopping the havoc being wreaked on these lands, eliminating the threat of Lunar Bahamut.

When she thought about it, there was a poetic tragedy to the places he had laid waste to so far, to the sorrow it must have left, but she put it out of her mind. That wasn’t her song to sing.

She winced, her attempts to walk softly abated without her say-so when she’d skidded to a stop in shock.

She hadn’t expected to see himhere. But she was a woman now, with obligations past just seeingthe morrow, and at least one of the three of them needed to make it out of there. So she simply gasped, rather than calling out.

It was safer that way.

Maybe Aymeric wouldn’t even know she was here.

But that wasn’t to be. They simply knew these things, it seemed. It had been the same in Ghimlyt. They had found each other then, too.

He stayed close, not so close that he would get in Etien’s way (she did have such an odd dance with her bow, when she was really lost to it), but near enough to her that he had managed to keep her safe, to distract the imperial soldier that had been bearing down on her too fast for her to run from.

And when they, and Estinien, and their comrades had cleared the area, Aymeric turned to tend to the wounded on the edges of the pathway.

“Go!” He’d called to Etien, seeing her pause out of the corner of his eye. “I will see them to safety. You’re needed elsewhere.”

He heard her come to her knees next to him more than he saw it, though he felt it just as quickly, when her hand came to rest on his arm.

“If anything happens to you or Estinien,” she began, swallowing. He could see her heart thudding just under her necklace, the pendants leaping with every beat. “If anything happens, Fandaniel won’t need to wait for Zenos to kill him.”

She stood up, her boots crunching in the sand and shrapnel around them, and started running after Thancred.

Ever dutiful, even when her body cried out otherwise. He sighed, hoisting the injured soldier up, arm over his shoulders.

It wasn’t him, him or Estinien, that she needed to worry about. He watched her, bright blue and bronze in the twilight, growing smaller the further she got away from him.

Growing smaller as she went to where was needed… away from where he needed her.

#fic #aytien #estinyan #toto mention #Dae mention #I like rewriting canon events and dialogue to more accurately represent Etien's relationships it's fun #hopefully the formatting is correct it looks funky in the new post box

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prurientpuddlejumper · 4 years

Text

A New Arrangement [Part 5/9]

<- Part 4 | Part 6 ->

Summary: There is nothing unprofessional about your entirely professional relationship with Frederick Chilton.

1,100 words

“Ooooh, got a hot date today?” Roxy wagged her eyebrows suggestively.

“What are you talking about?”

”You always look super cute on days you see,” she silently mouthed mask guy, and punctuated it with another brow pump for good measure.

“Oh my god,” you waved her away, “It is so not like that!”

She laughed impishly, slapping her desk. “You just turned so red! You’re totally into him!”

“I am not! Do not go telling everybody that!”

“What?” she stopped giggling and batted her lashes at you innocently. “So he’s a hermit. He’s super rich. Go for it babe, live the dream.”

Your eye twitched, and she started laughing hysterically again.

You were not attracted to Frederick Chilton. How could you be attracted to someone you’d never even seen? There was a headshot of the sleeve of his book, but it was impossible for your imagination to imbue that staged black-and-white photo with life, or apply it to the man in front of you. He was just a voice behind a mask.

That voice, though.

It was so soft, like the velvety chestnut fluff of a teddy bear. You felt caress over your skin rather than heard it. And it was so carefully spoken, his grammar as unnaturally formal as the cover letter of your first resume out of college—nerves jittery at the prospect of being rejected yet eager to show off your education.

Sometimes his vowels would stretch out like a cat, yawning and flexing its round toes, giving his words an air of drama. This happened especially when he was being smug or petty. You first noticed it while discussing his desire to have a hall named after him at the university his old rival worked at.

“He dumped me for a man he claimed was ‘going places.’ Now he teaches,” he said, stretching the word. “I would like him to give his little lectures in Chilton Hall. That should really piss him off.”

You joined him in wringing your fingers with spiteful glee as you did your best to make it happen—you couldn’t imagine what idiot would dump him. Actually, scratch that, you could. The way he flaunted his money, his massive ego, his penchant for the dramatic… it was all rather douchey. But douchey in a charming way that charmed you. Maybe because you saw that the puffed-up ego was just a defense mechanism. A small lizard displaying a large frill around its neck to startle predators. Behind the bluster was a sweet, scared man you would never tire of spending time with.

Not that you were attracted to him.

You weren’t, you groaned to yourself, head on your desk as the last hours of Friday ticked by. Getting someone’s name on a college building was not easy, or cheap, and did not exactly fall within the standard purview of end-of-life-planning. At all. You were exhausted.

“Karaoke tonight?” a message pinged on your screen from Roxy.

“Yessssss,” you eagerly typed back. “Get me out of here.”

Having plans only made the rest of the day crawl even slower. Your focus wandered. You imagined Dr. Chilton just-so-happening to be at the same bar and hearing you belt out a love ballad that would make him blush behind the mask.

But you knew you wouldn’t see him until your scheduled appointment next Tuesday.

How could you be attracted to someone who never left his house? If he walked into the bar dressed up like the phantom of the goddamn opera, everyone would stare. Then again, like he said, people would stare no matter what he was wearing.

How bad could his injuries possibly be? You googled “severe burn” and quickly closed the browser. Bad. The answer was: pretty bad. Not as bad as they could be, though. He had functioning eyelids that you could see behind the mask, which meant he was fortunate they were not fused together like melted candle wax.

You cleared your search history for the third time that day. Your manager did not need to think you were obsessed with a client. You were not obsessed. He was just… fascinating.

Karaoke was a distraction, but all the noise and crowds and drinks couldn’t get your mind off him. Four days felt like an eternity. He would be alone that whole time. Unless he has more physical therapy, you thought angrily. Why were you angry? You weren’t! It didn’t help that Roxy kept teasing you, prying about eccentric mannerisms you regretted ever telling her about.

She wasn’t wrong. He was weird. You couldn’t like someone that weird. Mask aside, you would think he’d wear something more comfortable than a suit in his own home, but he obsessively needed to maintain his image. His status. He couldn’t be seen without his mask on: literal and figurative.

Frankly, he looked ridiculous.

Though, anyone would have to admit, it was also rather sexy. Crisp pressed slacks, a stylish shirt and tie, and an audacious mask. Stretched out on a leather couch. It was like some millionaire anonymous sex thing, and it sent the occasional shiver down your spine toward… regions you would not discuss.

You shoved the thought down.

It wasn’t as though he felt the same way toward you anyway. He’d made his disinterest abundantly clear, and trying to seduce him would be callous to his recovery. Being burned had left him physically weak, frequently exhausted, and devastatingly shy. Sex was the last thing on his mind. It was a miracle that was willing to touch you at all.

He could touch you now. He had touched you. You touched! It happened the session after he invited you to sit next to him so you could more easily share the laptop screen.

As you sat beside each other on the couch, your legs touched, as legs are wont to do in the natural course of sitting. He flinched away the first time, but the cushions were soft, tending to draw you in toward each other where your weight made a deep depression. The second time, he left it there, the warm steady pressure of your legs pressed together raising goosebumps that were thankfully hidden under long pants.

The next meeting, he leaned against you to see the screen. Your fingers brushed over the keyboard, and something awoke. A sleeping tiger.

He needed physical contact like he needed air to breathe. He attempted to be discreet about it, but you could tell he was always sitting as close to you as possible, touching you “accidentally” as you passed the laptop for him to sign a document.

He was so skittish. So careful with every touch, growing bolder little by little only as you reciprocated, sighing as his shoulder grazed yours, leaning into it. Then his hand, casually falling onto the couch cushion between you, next to where your hand rested. A pinkie extending. Yours extending back.

The couch was more comfortable than the office chairs, but sitting for any length of time was still challenging. One day, he seemed particularly weary and was starting to zone out.

“You can lay down if you need to. We can do it like this,” you indicated for him to put his legs over your lap, so you could both still see the computer. He did. Your hand rested on his knee, and he didn’t flinch or brush it away.

Next time, it was his head that was in your lap.

The filling out of forms and projecting of expenses turned more and more into cuddle sessions. You learned with a thrill of pleasure how solid his chest was, how broad were the arms always hidden under stiff sleeves.

There was nothing unprofessional about it. He got tired easily. It was perfectly natural that you should be comfortable relaxing together. It was easier for both of you.

There was nothing unprofessional about it.

It wasn’t as though he liked you. He was just a little touch-starved, and some friendly cuddling was healthy. You didn’t like him either. Maybe your heart raced a little when he was near, but who wouldn’t be nervous around a weird mask-guy? And if you looked forward to your meetings all week, you were just attached to him as a client.

You were attached to him as a client.

The reason you could do your job, so steeped in death, and still sleep at night was because you didn’t bond with people easily. You weren’t cold—you were kind to clients, sympathized with them, and wanted to help them—but you didn’t think about them after clocking out. This was different.

As your last appointment rapidly approached, you were never in your life more certain of how much you were going to miss somebody.

#frederick chilton #Frederick Chilton x reader #raul esparza #hannibal #my writing

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fruitpunchninja101 · 4 years

Text

Slow Dancing In The Dark

Characters: Hanji Zoe x Levi Ackerman

Genre: Romance/Fluff

Rating: T

Here’s part 1 of my gift for LeviHan Eggscghange 2020 :) I hope my dear giftee enjoys this.Part 2 will be out in a couple of days!

You can also read this on AO3

@levihanweek

Working for Sina Industries has always been a life long dream for Hange.As a wide eyed child,she would always watch live broadcasts of their space launches and tell herself one day shes gonna be there.Standing in mission control smiling as she watched one of her creations get sent to a different planet.Armed with a degree & a determined heart,she applied as an engineer.You could imagine her disappointment when she was crammed into an 8x12 cubicle in the basement to design and develop circuitry which their boss greedily takes credit for all the damned time.She's pretty good at keeping a front that shes a pretty chill with all her bosses bullshit but she finally lost it when he started harassing a temp.Hange bravely spoke out and got into a heated argument with her boss.She got supended for a week after that.

It took almost six months before she was promoted to another 8x12 cubicle.Only this time,shes moving up on the infamous 17th floor.The place where they flung all the adept yet problematic employees.Its pretty much the same,shitty boss,intricate work but now on a higher pay grade and a lot more hearsay about her reputation.Its not so bad though,despite the lack of recognition and grueling work hours she met a handful of wonderful coworkers who shared the same pain.

Mike and Nanaba were sort of the required stable couple of the group.She met them a month after the big promotion when she caught them making out in the copy room.She's probably standing there for an entire minute awkwardly making fake cough noises to alert them of her presence.Enter Erwin Smith,he casually strode up by the couple and grabbed the box of printer ink Hange desperately needed.He's like freaking Captian America & Superman combined except he has a mind of a slytherin.Not that it was a bad thing.

And then there's Levi,The crabbiest member of their little group,Mr.I-look-very-angry-and-irritated-all-the-time-but-inside-lies-a-total-softy.He’s a clean freak who befittingly,is a sanitary engineer.Rumors say that Levi had tendencies with violence and had to be sent at 17th floor for precaution.There used to be a time when they didn't get along.She'd been very welcoming towards him but hes always been aloof and cold.She didn't mind it at first,but after a while it kinda got into her nerves.Til that christmas party back in 2017,where she had a few drinks and sort of confessed that she liked him and it really bummed her out that he didn't feel the same way.For the first time,she saw something other than disinterest and irritation on his face...she saw confusion.He asked her what shes on about,then reminded her that he just made her chocolates for valentines day when she won't shut up about craving something sweet.He doesn't do that kind of shit just for anyone and after that,hange was pretty sure they've become best friends.

Their friendship was forged in companionship in misery but as time passed they became her second family.

One of the things that Hange looked forward to is hanging out with them every Friday night at a dive bar a few blocks away from their office where they get shit faced and let off some steam from their work.Hange was preoccupied with the jukebox when Mike arrived with his arm slung over Levi dragging the smaller man into her space.”You'll never guess what happened.”The man announced and before she could answer the man screamed."Someone got asked for a date!"

"Ohoho!Whos the lucky girl?"Nanaba came out of nowhere carrying two mai tais and handed one to Hange before heading over at Mike's side.

"Petra Ral."Erwin chimed cooly while sipping a glass of scotch.His blond hair still laid perfectly even after a long tiring day at work.

"From PR?Holy shit!Good job!"Hange said slapping Levi’s shoulder hurting her hand in the process.The man didn’t even falter from where he stood,all he did was stare straight at her before scowling."It's not a big deal.”He said settling his gaze on his side.

Hange smiled.

He’s shy.Levi Ackerman is actually being shy about getting asked out by an adorable strawberry blonde colleague.Isn’t that precious?She’d never seen him like that before.Heaven knows how much she wanted to tease him about his situation but she can clearly tell by the way he clenched his jaw and the deep creases on the space between his brows that if she says anything,he'd run straight to the wall to escape,cartoon style.

Mike started telling the story and Levi sneakily started edging towards the exit.Before the questions came flooding in,Levi was already gone.

“I think I should follow him.“Hange announced.

"Try to convince him to go out with Ral!"Mike shouted which prompted Erwin to take his drink away from him."I think you had enough."

"Goodluck!"Nanaba raised her drink at her.Before helping Erwin keep Mike's drink away from him.

Hange found Levi brooding on the sidewalk while smoking.”Can I get a light?”She asked.

“Its cold.”He said,which also translates to she should go back inside or she’ll catch a cold.Levi’s nice like that,it took everything in her to hold back and not make a snide comment.He alwas hated it when he gets called out for being considerate.

“So Petra Ral huh?”She started.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“We don’t have to,If you don’t want to.”Hange calmly took a box of cigarettes from her pocket and stood a bit closer to him.

“Good.”He said before tossing her his lighter.

Hange bit her lower lip to stifle a smile and Levi was already armed with his grumpy face.He's getting a little agitated.She let the silence drag on for a while as she started to giddily shift from where she stood.Unable to contain her curiosity.

“But its Petra Ral...The Petra Ral!Our company sweetheart.”She exploded.

“I barely know her.”

"Isn’t that what dating is for?!Besides,She probably just needs to get dicked down."Hange said casually."Go for it!Have a little fun.What’s there to lose?"

"Yeah well...I don't think I could."Levi started bouncing his leg.Is he nervous?Agitated?Both?It seemed like he's trying to say something.

“Levi,you know we wont judge you if you’re gay right?You don’t have to hide it from us.”

“Why would I be hiding that if I was?”

“Then what are you nervous for?"

“I’m not nervous...I.."Levi paused as if he's considering if he should tell her."I haven’t...I...”

“You're acting like you've never been out on a date."she said.

Levi visibly stiffened and averted her curious eyes.From where she sat,she could see how levi clenched his jaw and feel him hold his breath.No?It cant be...

"Oh.Its been a while for you huh?like 6 months?"She tried to take a wild stab but was met with silence.Hange sobered."You’ve never been on a date before?"she repeated a little louder than she meant to and not soon after she found Levi's hand over her mouth.

“You wanna scream that a little louder?“

“EVER?!”She peeled his hand off her face and asked.

“Tch.I dont need this.“Levi rolled his eyes and started leaving but hange caught his arm.

"Hey!I'm sorry.I didn't know.Its nothing to be embarrassed about.Its just,its a little uncommon you know.I'm really sorry.I didn't mean to be a dick.”

She assumed that its not because of the lack of people who wanna date with him.Believe it or not,this whole quiet mysterious guy persona is a total chick magnet.She even had several people from the office ask about him every once in a while.So what happened?Is it trauma?Is he aromantic?Holy shit!How could she be so insensitive?

“Stop looking at me like that.”He frowned.Snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Sorry,I was just thinking...”

“Don’t think of anything.Just mind your own business and let me be.”

“What kind of friend would I be if I let you be?”

“A good one.And stop drawing conclusions!I can practically see the thoughts up your head.I'm not anything I just...dont know how.”

“why are you so intent on giving up?!I thought you like her!”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh please Ackerman!How can you not?She's the perfect mix of adorable,kind,fiesty and beautiful...she’s perfect for you!”

"What do you want me to do?"he asked,in his how can I make you shut up tone.

"What if I help you?You could...I dont know...practice with me?I could help you with the whole dating thing!"Levi looked at her as if she grew another head.Honestly shes just happy he didn't look disgusted with her proposal.He gave her a once over before pinching the bridge of his nose.She knows this maneuver.Its the what-have-i-gotten-my-self-into or holy-shit-am-I-actually-considering-this move.“Are you sure about this?”He asked.

Hange made a gesture of crossing over her heart and raising her right hand up and levi scrunched his brows together.

“Quit downplaying this.I’m serious.”

“I wont offer it if my not 100% I’m serious. The last guy I went out with was a total disappointment and Petra deserves better than that.You know she helped me last Christmas...”

“Yeah,yeah she helped you change your tire."He supplied,refraning hange from tellong the story again.

“And in exchange I'm gonna help you be more fun and well rounded for your date!It's the circle of life!”Hange enthusiastically smiled.

“Alright.How do we start?”Levi asked.

"Ask Petra to reschedule your date for next week,Then we can take the whole week to practice."

The harsh sun bore down on Levi as if reminding him never to indulge Hange with her antics again.Aparrently,she found Petra's online journal and identified that she had two dream dates.One is a carnival date (which explains why he is standing in line for cotton candy out in the middle of the goddamn afternoon.) and the other was spending an evening at a local jazz bar in the city.

Levi doesn't know how she successfully lured him out.You see,he liked his comfort zone and for some unknown reason Hange always challenged him to take a step out of the little box he created around him.And although there are times when she proved that taking a risk was worth it,Levi never really appreciated getting stuck in very shitty situations like now.He doesn't know how she seemed fine with all these shitty conditions.Maybe because she's been busy talking about her new droid remodel.

"Hey Levi are you listening to me?"

"Yes."He said exasperated.

"What was I saying then?"She folded her arms and raised her brows,challenging him.

"You're planning to replace fiberglass with aerogel as insulator on your next shitty droid."He said which earned a bright smile from her.Tch!He rolled his eyes at that and stepped forward after the couple infront of them was served with an unreasonable amount of cotton candy.

"I'll get the giant sunshine surprise."Hange said and the vendor then started shaping the cotton candy into a big daisy.Hange looks absolutely delighted.

"That will be 50 dollars."The vendor said offering his open palm to him which prompted him to turn towards Hange."Oh!let me get my wallet!"Hange started going though her bag and for some reason he felt chills run through him.WheN he raised his head,he noticed that people around them started glaring at him.Oh great he forgot!He's in a fake date.He assumed people still think he's obligated to pay.Tch.So fucking primitive.Although he's never the guy who gave much fuck about what others think,he didnt want people to think Hanges being mistreated.Begrudgingly,he paid for the goddamn cotton candy.Hange took that opportunity to talk about how expenses should be handled during dates,she personally likes going dutch but immediately started going on about some studies that says women generally like it when the males carries out the expenses.

Hange's like a battery that never runs out of energy.She wanted to ride every possible attraction from the carnival!Beads of sweat are starting to form on her forehead but she never seem to notice,he started leading her to a park bench to rest for a bit.He appreciated how much she prepared.She was very keen on citing the psychology articles and some magazines she read to help him be better at dating.He doesn't even know why would anyone even exert that much effort for him.

She really is something.

He pulled out his handkerchief out of his pocket and started gently dabbing it on her forehead.

She smiled.

Hange didn't really need to teach him much.Despite the seemingly abrasive qualities Levi possess,the man is a very courteous guy.He said thank you,please and treated the park employees with respect.Shes pretty sure he wouldnt have much trouble impressing a girl."You never told me why you've never been out on a date."She started.

"I was never asked."Levi shrugged as if telling her its no big deal.Hange was shocked at his honesty but appreciated his straight answer.

"Based on my observations today I'd say all those girls that didnt ask you out missed out on a good time."

"Tch!Quit bullshitting me."

"It's true!You diligently listened to my stories, joined me riding all the and most importantly,you bought me an unreasonably overprized cotton candy."

Levi let out a soft chuckle at that and Hange immediately panicked.This is the first time she ever made him chuckle and goddamn it was glorious.It's like his features lit up and made him look years younger.She had to bit her lower lip to sort of calm her wild heartbeat.They stayed seated on the bench for a while when Levi surprisingly asked her to walk around some more.As they started to amble along the park,an idea popped on her head.

Her hands gently crept on his wrist and made way to cup his hand "what the..."He glared at their joined hands,but didn't find the need to pull away."You're sticky."He remarked

"Does sticky hands really matter if youre holding hands with your crush?"She asked.He kept his eyes on her and he saw blush creep up to her face."I-I mean not me...I meant Petra...which is basically me because im her placeholder at the moment and..."

"Hange."

"Hm?"

"Shut up."He slipped his Fingers against the gaps of hers and continued wandering around the park.

#levihan #levihaneggschange #levihaneggschange2020 #hange zoe #hanji zoe #levi ackerman #snk #aot #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #snk fanfiction #fanfiction #otp

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mom-on-a-budget · 3 years

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Feeling stressed, anxious or depressed, try this....

Hi There,

This really worked for me, so I thought I'd share.

Just a bit of background, I had a very traumatic birth with my daughter Emma, she actually stopped breathing for a minute after I had her (she turned right before she was about to come out and came out feet first). This led me down a very dark road, for months I struggled with Postpartum Depression. I couldn't bond with her because I had this constant worry that she would somehow be taken away from me.

So I did what I was supposed to do and headed off to the doctor, who put me on anti anxiety and anti depression tablets. This was all well and good but it didn't feel like it was working, after changing meds twice in 10 months I went back to the doctor and was put on a different anti depressant. I waited the 2-4 weeks for the new medication to work its way into my body and still nothing.

Then I remembered something a dear friend had told me about months prior, her son has ADHD and his therapist advised that the entire family keep a B.E.E.T journal.

B- Biological : what is going on in your physical body? Did you get enough sleep last night? Did you exercise today? What did you eat? Are you sick?

E- Emotions : What were the emotions you felt today? Sad? Depressed? Happy? Joy? Stressed?

E- Environment : This factors in everything around you. Were your colleagues difficult today? Was your space around you clean (home or office)? Was your spouse in a good mood? Were your kids kicking off and throwing tantrums?

T- Thoughts : What thoughts did you have today? This is your self talk and it is so important that we pay attention to this because, your thoughts become things, they impact your mood, they set the standard for your day. They literally become who we are and how we react to every single situation.

Then you rate your day out of 10.

So I decided I was going to start this B.E.E.T journal for myself, to take with me to my doctors office and go "see these meds also aren't working!" but something amazing happened around day 5, I started to notice my emotions and thoughts were shifting from negative to positive. Now this wasn't just because I was doing this journal, what I combined with this was, I'd analyse what my emotions and thoughts were for that day and find a guided meditation on YouTube to directly counteract them.

As an example, if my thoughts were about feeling self conscious about my body, Id do a meditation on self love and body acceptance. You can find Millions of guided meditations online. If I see a negative thought pattern, I do a meditation on a positive mindset.

Now I know we're all moms and that means time is limited BUT remember you cannot pour from an empty cup! I do my B.E.E.T journal and meditation every night after I've got my 11 month old to bed. Its 20 minutes out of a 24 hour day that is just for me. I sit in the dark room with my phone as a torch, write my journal, analyse it and then find a 10 minute meditation.

I am by NO means saying, stop ANY medication. I am still on my anti depressants and anti anxiety meds and I wont go off them until advised and guided by my doctor. But this simple act of journaling and meditation has completely changed my thought patterns and emotions. I now catch myself when I hear a negative thought, ask myself "how is this thought serving me?" and stop myself from going down that path.

Give this a try, its 20 minutes and you deserve AT LEAST 20 minutes of self reflection and love.

#parenting #self care #self help #self love #meditateeveryday #biology #emotions #environment #thoughts #journal

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wittywallflower · 4 years

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Merry Pranksters - Miles wants to play a practical joke on Julian while the doctor is off the station and asks Garak, of all people, for help.

(3,6k words, Miles & Garak gen fic)

Garak was just about to close up for the day when Miles O'Brien appeared quite unexpectedly. He was an infrequent visitor in the shop. The chief tended to leave sartorial considerations to his wife when he could get away with it. Outside of his holosuite costumes, that is, and in those cases he usually discussed things thoroughly with the doctor before letting Julian make the actual arrangements with the tailor.

"Good evening, Chief O'Brien," Garak greeted him as pleasantly as any customer. "How are those trousers I mended working out for you?"

"Fine, fine. Good as new," Miles said, but nothing more.

"Was there something you need?”

"You, uh... you want to help me prank Julian?" Miles asked.

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

"Good evening, Chief O'Brien," Garak greeted him pleasantly. "How are those trousers I mended working out for you?"

"Fine, fine. Good as new," Miles said, but nothing more.

"Was there something you need? Don't tell me young Miss Molly had another growth spurt again so soon? That would be most inconvenient to Mrs. O'Brien. I believe she said they would be on Bajor this month? There aren't many clothing shops in the mountains of Ray'laht."

Miles was surprised, and not sure how he felt about the Cardassian talking so familiarly, and knowledgeably, about his family like that. But of course Garak would know a bit about it. Keiko liked the man, naturally would she would chat with him whenever Molly's pants were getting too short again and she had need of his services. Keiko was a nice, engaging woman and most people liked talking to her. Miles wouldn't have guessed Garak would care enough to listen, but then the man was or used to be a spy. He probably filed away any bit of intel, no matter how innocuous, just in case it came in handy later.

"Not that I am aware of yet," Miles answered, and huffed a laugh. "Won't be long though, the way she's growing."

Now that he thought of it, though, he could remember Julian mentioning that Cardassians were real big on family and loved children. Both apparently being big themes in the books Julian read and discussed with Garak. Julian, bless him, didn't try to get Miles to read any of it, limiting himself to the very broadest strokes of the stories when recounting his weekly lunches with the tailor. And Molly was adorable enough to win hearts wherever she went. It was possible that Garak not only knew but had a genuine friendly interest (as well as a professional one) in not just Molly's measurements but things like her favorite colors and what she liked to do for play. Some of the stain-resistant fabrics Garak had tracked down were a godsend, given how much the girl loved to paint.

Miles might not spend more time with Garak than he had to, but that didn't mean the man was entirely removed from his life. Even if Julian wasn't friends with the man, he would still be there on the station. In his tailor shop, discussing orchids with Keiko and making a mental note that young Miss Molly O'Brien detested knitted sweaters and broke out all over in itchy hives no matter how soft the wool.

Garak looked at the human and tried not to grin widely at the man's reticence, knowing the chief would only interpret it poorly. Garak simply enjoyed drawing information out of people otherwise reluctant to give it away. That's what had made him so good at procuring information for the Order. An honest zeal for the work.

"I stand at the ready when she does," Garak said with his blandest salesman smile. Which was really the only one the chief was likely to trust. "I was just about to close up for the night, if there's no assistance I can offer...."

He trailed off, eyes widened expectantly. Obviously the human had a reason to come here. O'Brien more than most was no fan of Cardassian company. With any other potential customers Garak would have set up an appointment for the following day. But if the chief was here for a fitting it wouldn't take long and Garak suspected O'Brien would be just as happy to have to over and done with quickly.

Miles didn't immediately answer and Garak began to turn away before the chief spoke up.

"You, uh... you want to help me prank Julian?" he asked.

"Pardon me?" Garak's tone and expression were a little too politely confused by half.

"You know, a practical joke."

O'Brien didn't believe for one second that the savvy ex-spy had lived among humans for so long without learning about pranks. In fact, he was damn sure a species as naturally devious as Cardassians was already intimately familiar with the concept, so he didn't elaborate.

"Julian's back from his conference tomorrow," he said instead, "Thought we could arrange a little 'surprise' for him."

"We? As in you and I?"

"Sure! Pranks are more fun with an accomplice," Miles said with a slight smile, and squinted speculatively at him. "And you seem like you might know a thing or two about being a co-conspirator."

Garak didn't insult the chief with his usual protestations that he was just a plain and simple tailor who couldn't possibly conspire against a soul, except perhaps his fractious supplier of Orellian brocade. In truth, the oft-repeated denial of his former career was getting a little tired. One should endeavor not to repeat the same lie too many times. And he was quite sure no one else found it as amusing as Julian did.

"Why me?" he asked. The two men did not have a habit of spending time in each other's company.

"Why not you?"

Miles tried not to get annoyed by the interrogation. He knew it was only annoying because he didn't want to explain himself. He had made the decision to try to be more friendly towards Garak, to reach out and include him in some shenanigans. It was his own fault if that gave the fellow a chance to get under his skin.

And it was a fair question after all, given the usually chilly civility between them.

"Dax and I have pranked Julian a dozen times already," Miles said. "Who else am I going to ask? Sisko? He's my commanding officer. Worf's barely got a sense of humor. And Odo is the station's head of security."

"You expect to engage in acts of dubious legality then?" Garak raised his brow ridges as if scandalized, but there was definitely a hint of mischief in his gaze.

"I expect Odo would find breaking into Julian's quarters a bit dubious, yes." Miles nodded.

Hmm, interesting. Garak was already intrigued by the novelty of the situation. The chief inviting Garak of all people into his fun. There was a 'why' to be discovered there and Garak did enjoy a mystery. But even if there were any reason to suspect the chief's motives might be nefarious, the chance to snoop around the doctor's quarters a bit would still be impossible to resist.

"Actually Quark is pretty good at schemes," Miles continued on through the list, "but there's no latinum in this for him so he wont bother himself. And the Major... well, she's had a hard life. A real rough time growing up. I'm not sure she would see the point in this sort of... silliness. And it occurs to me now that might be true for you too." Miles finished awkwardly. "I mean, I understand if you aren't interested."

Miles, with the natural intuition of a man of similar age who had seen his fair share of trouble, had guessed that Garak had been through a lot in his life. Even if he didn't have any idea what exactly. Garak didn't worry about anything Julian might have told Miles about the former spy's life simply because Garak hadn't told Julian much of anything that could be confirmed as truth. Station gossip surprisingly didn't have much to say about him beyond the painfully unimaginative: that he was still a spy, loyal to Cardassia, in service of the Obsidian Order, here to steal highly classified information and disrupt Federation efforts. Largely negative, but not so bad as to stop the gruff human engineer from sympathizing where he thought they might have common ground of being victims of trauma. Garak could almost feel a sort of... camaraderie with him for it.

"Why Chief, are you implying that I'm no fun?" Garak pivoted, a playful smile served with the joke. Easing their mutual discomfort at the near brush with emotional honesty, and signaling his acceptance of the scheme.

Miles barked an honest laugh at that and grinned back, relieved and, yes, a little amused by the Cardassian.

"I'll get what we need while you close up shop. Meet me at my quarters and we'll walk over to Julian's together."

When he received a nod of acquiescence, Miles left, cheerfully whistling on his way down the Promenade.

Garak was quite sure O'Brien knew he was just as capable of breaking into crew quarters as the engineer. But the former spy lurking around on a habitat level not his own would definitely draw some suspicion from station security. He did have a history of going where he wasn't authorized to be when the situation called for it and a door lock had never stopped that. In the chief's company his presence was less likely to be questioned, but Garak knew how to handle any potential run-ins with Odo regardless.

"Hey," O'Brien greeted him when Garak arrived at the chief's quarters with a parcel under his arm. "What's that?"

"My excuse for being on this level this time of night." Garak handed the package to Miles. "For Miss Molly. They'll be a little big yet, but that hardly matters with pajamas."

"What, did you sew these in the 10 minutes since I left you?" Miles asked with mild astonishment.

"I already had the pattern cut and fabric pinned," Garak said with a dismissive wave. "they were just waiting for the updated inseam measurement. It hardly took a moment to run my handheld seamer over it all."

Huh. Prepared for anything, this one, Miles thought as he accepted the parcel with a nod of thanks and set it down next to two Starfleet issue canvas duffle bags. One of which he hefted, the other he handed to Garak.

"Shall we?"

They made short work of the walk to the doctor's quarters and even shorter work of bypassing Julian's lock code to let themselves in.

Garak crossed to a table where he could set down the bag he held. Next to a pair of data padds that he made sure to 'accidentally' bump so as to activate their screens, which he then just happened to glance at long enough to make note of their contents. All of which would have gone unnoticed even if the room had been crowded with people. Garak was very discreet.

"What's the plan, Mister O'Brien?" He asked, opening the bag to pull out its contents. Which he stared at thoughtfully a moment before he gave up guessing and turned to ask an explanation. "With all these...pieces of paper?"

The bag was crammed full with short stacks of small slips of paper in various neon hues.

"They're called Post-Its, or sticky notes back home. Not exactly a novel concept, I've seen similar things around the galaxy. They mostly fell out of fashion on Earth in the 21st century when people started carrying electronic devices everywhere. You write notes on them: reminders, messages, shopping lists. They have adhesive on the back so you can stick them wherever you need and they come in bright colors so you can't miss seeing them."

"So we're going to... write notes to the doctor on these little squares?" Garak ask skeptically. That didn't seem terribly amusing but then, it would matter a great deal what exactly was written.

"No." Miles eyes suddenly gleamed with a light that bore ill tidings for Julian Bashir. "We are going to stick every single one of these little squares to every single surface we can reach until the whole room is covered with them." As Garak caught on and began to smile, Miles smiled back. "Though, now you mention it.... it could be funny to write stuff on 'em."

"Not all of them surely?" Garak asked.

O'Brien eyed his own bag crammed full of as many Post-Its as he could replicate. His hand cramped at just the idea of all that writing and he made a face.

"Because" Garak hastened to suggest, no more enamored with the thought of that task than the chief, "I really think it would be more amusing to write only on a select few of them. Say, give each word of a sentence its own square and scatter the message around the room. This would force him to examine every last one if he wants to be sure he's found all them."

"Garak, that's brilliant!" Miles grinned. Okay, maybe now he could see how Julian found Garak's devious mind enjoyable instead of just worrisome. "He won't be able to resist finding the clues so he cant just sweep everything into the recycler, he'll have to leave it all up and stare at it until he solves the puzzle."

Miles chortled, pulling out a cube of sticky notes and handing it to Garak.

"You think up a message, I'll try to find you a pen."

"No need, Chief." Garak pulled an elegant looking pen from a discreet pocket in his trousers.

"You just carry a fountain pen around with you?" Miles asked.

Plenty of people still enjoyed the tactile feeling of writing, Jake Sisko to name one, but who actually carried such an old-fashioned writing implement? Most everything on the station could be handled through a computer or padd. And even a standard ink stylus would work more reliably than a fussy fountain pen. They never leaked and stained your uniform, for one.

"A tailor is always prepared for anything," Garak said with a smirk, unknowingly echoing Miles' earlier thought.

Miles shook his head but he was still smiling as he turned away to start covering Julian's chair.

They were both accustomed to working with brisk efficiency so it didn't take as long as either expected to work their way around the room in opposite directions, covering everything in a kaleidoscope of neon paper. Still, it would have bordered on tedious if Miles hadn't broken the silence with a few stories of past pranks. Garak warmed up to the subject as he came to find the other man could be delightfully inventive in his mischief. The prank they were currently engaged in, while diverting, was not particularly impressive by Garak's estimation. The chief agreed.

"This is a pretty amateur effort, if I'm honest," Miles said over his shoulder as he lined the doorway to Julian's bedroom with bright blue squares. "But it was all spur of the moment. I didn't have the time to plan anything more elaborate before tomorrow. Besides, Keiko would have words for me if she came home to find i blew a bunch of latinum to play a joke on Julian. This only cost me replicator credits."

Garak could understand the pressure of a deadline, and a budget. Sometimes an uncomplicated plan was best when one was in a pinch.

"I think the doctor will be amused, regardless of the simplicity," he offered as reassurance to Miles. "And if he happens to return exhausted from his travels, it will be a kindness for him that it's not something a great deal more involved."

Garak was thinking of one of the stories Miles had just shared about locking a particularly annoying Enterprise crewmate in the holodeck for several hours to play out an especially embarrassing scenario.

Miles for his part was thinking how interesting it was for Garak to be so considerate of Julian's comfort like that. The doctor was known for his abundance (some might say excess) of energy; all bounce-and-go. He wasn't exactly the type you'd ever think of as being in need of a nap. Fretting that someone would have a proper chance to rest after a long trip... that spoke of a certain level of caring, in his experience. What level exactly Miles wasn't ready to hazard a guess at. He couldn't read the Cardassian in the best of times, let alone when they were both at work with their backs to each other.

Huh. Willingly turning his back on a Cardassian, a known operative of the Obsidian Order, alone and in close quarters with no witnesses. Miles could honestly say he didn't trust the man. If Quark had a pool going, O'Brien would lay a bet that Garak had at least 2 weapons hidden on his person at any time. But he somehow knew Garak's deceit did not extend to doing violence in this sort of innocuous situation.

Their final task was to cover the shelving along one wall, full of Bashir's books and belongings. They worked their way up from the floor, with some discussion as to how to wrap oddly-shaped knick-knacks, until they reached the top shelf. And its lumpy, rather disreputable looking occupant.

O'Brien eyed it dubiously.

"I don't think Julian will thank us for messing with Kukalaka. The adhesive on these things is pretty weak but still... that bear is half dust, held together by nostalgia and stubbornness. I don't want to try sticking anything to that threadbare fur."

Garak regarded the teddy bear, largely ignored on his previous visit (intrusion) in the doctor's quarters. The chief was obviously well familiar with the toy and what it meant to Julian. Miles didn't offer further information but Garak could read between the lines and tell it important. Very important indeed. Sudden inspiration suppressed the burning curiosity he knew wouldn't be satisfied in the moment anyway.

"I think we can include... Kukalaka, is it? in on the fun without harming him," Garak smiled at the chief.

While O'Brien finished the rest of the shelf, Garak grabbed a cube of notes and began layering them until he had a large multi-colored sheet. Very carefully (the chief was right, the adhesive barely stuck to anything) he began to fold his creation. Spare minutes later Kukalaka was the proud possessor of a very dapper, day-glo hat. All sticky edges safely folded and tucked away.

"Huh, I didn't know you could do origami." O'Brien remarked as he took in Garak's handiwork.

"I'm afraid I'm not familiar with the term."

"Oh, its an art form from Earth's Japanese culture. Folding paper to create shapes, usually animals and flowers and the like."

"And hats?"

"And hats." Miles chuckled. "I'm not too bad at it myself. Keiko taught me, thinking with all the fiddly engineering work I do my fingers would be good at it. She was right, like she usually is."

"I would imagine several society with advanced paper industries have developed similar arts," Garak said, always interesting in cross-comparing cultures. "I'll have to ask Mrs. O'Brien to tell me more about this origami sometime."

"You should," Miles' smile was... actually genuinely friendly. It was not a sight Garak was used to seeing. "She'd enjoy talking to you about it."

They both looked around for a long moment, feeling satisfaction at the visible results of their efforts. Nearly every surface was decked in bright colors. They didn't have enough supplies to completely cover the walls so they settled for framing the doorways and viewport, and covering all the wall art. An armchair was a violent neon purple, the low table before it a yellow that hurt Garak's eyes to look at directly. The replicator in the wall was ringed in concentric stripes and Julian's desk was covered in no less than 5 different eye-searing shades.

"I wish I could see his face when he walks in," Miles chortled, almost boyish in his glee.

"I can send you the feed from my hidden surveillance devices," Garak offered with a straight face and level tone.

Any other day that line, delivered with that sort of aplomb, would have left O'Brien with a suspicious, questioning glare. Such a thing was by no means beyond Garak's capabilities or outside his morals, they both knew that. But, despite himself, the unique experience of spending this time with the chief did not lend itself to Garal projecting his usual aura of danger cloaked in affability. The engineer looked him over and he could practically see Garak radiating with a energy of what he could only describe of as.... fun.

So Miles didn't bother to take the joke seriously. Even if it was true and Garak did have illegal surveillance equipment set up, the chief would never actually get confirmation or proof of it so it didn't bear worrying about right now. If, later, Miles decided it was a credible threat he would mention it to Julian.

"C'mon," Miles said, almost going as far as giving the man a good-natured slap on the back but definitely smart enough not to push his luck. "I'll buy us a round at Quark's in the name of a job well done."

"I don't think we've ever had a drink together, Chief," Garak couldn't help but point out, because it was in his nature to stir the pot, to provoke a reaction just to see what he would get.

Miles shrugged that off, knowing it was true enough. But the whole night had been unprecedented anyway, and he for one had worked up a thirst.

"You can relieve Quark of some of that overstock of kanar he's always complaining about taking up space in his store room. The more you drink, the less I have to listen to him whinge about it," the human said.

Garak accepted that, and the offer of a drink; oddly more comfortable for it to be a matter of selfishness on O'Brien's part rather than an honest gesture of kindness from an acquaintance. What sort of life left a man unable to trust motives that weren't entirely devious and self-serving? Miles shook the thought off as they headed for the Promenade and the bar. He was much too tired to go digging around in anyone's psyche right now, much less the enigma of a man beside him.

#yes this is silly but whatever #I just wanted them to be friends #their respective skillsets would make them super talented at hijinks #star trek deep space 9 #ds9 fic #star trek ds9 #miles o'brien #elim garak #deep space nine #ds9 #star trek fic

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fantasyfandommaiden · 5 years

Text

Proof That Nathalie Cares.

Nathalie sits down in her brand new home, boxes all aroud her, thinking back to how she got here in the first place…

~~~~~~~

[[MORE]]

It all honestly started about eight years ago. When Emilie Agreste first hired her to be HER personal assistant. Nathalie had just graduated with honours from university, and it was a very high paying job. She was professional, and courteous, and would always remind Emilie of any appointments she had.

She, of course, also worked closely with Gabriel Agreste, however that was less often, and got to ‘know’ Adrien fairly well, even if the eight year old boy was incredibly shy towards her. Which is why, when one day Adrien came towards Nathalie’s desk, looking at her with a slight pleading expression, she was somewhat confused.

“... Yes Adrien?” she addressed him, looking away from her laptop.

“... It’s Mama’s birthday soon, right?” he asked, pointing at the calendar on Nathalie’s desk. He was pointing at the red circle that was roughly six days from now, a small sticker of a birthday cake on it.

Nathalie looked at the boy with a raised brow “... it is. Why do you ask?”

“I wanna get her a gift, but Papa won’t take me shopping and I can’t leave the house without a grown up.” he said, looking at Nathalie with those pleading eyes. Nathalie almost feels her resolve break… Almost.

“Unfortunately Adrien, I can’t take you out without your mother or fathers permission.” she said evenly, seeing the boy frown, Nathalie sighed before opening up a new tab on her laptop “But we can order something for your mother online so it will arrive here.”

Adrien’s eyes widened as he grinned widely, stepping as close to Nathalie’s chair so he can see the screen, but when Nathalie saw him standing on his tippy-toes, she scooted her chair back, giving Adrien an encouraging look. Adrien smiled widely as he all but jumped onto Nathalie’s lap as Nathalie pushed herself and Adrien closer to the desk “Now, what sort of things do you think your mother would like Adrien?” “She likes flowers!!!” “Alright, thats a good start…”

Unknown to the pair, Emilie watched the two, a small smile on her face before she quietly left the two to do their ‘shopping’. On Emilie’s birthday, she received a beautiful wired broach that looked like a flower, which she wore every single day.

~~~~~~

When Emilie was declared missing (and to Nathalie’s knowledge, her boss was in fact missing), her first thought hadn’t been ‘Oh my god, am I going to lose my job’, it had been ‘Oh my god, what about Adrien?’

Although Gabriel had never been a BAD parent, he wasn’t exactly the nurturing type. So when Emilie Agreste had been declared missing, she contacted her friend Carmine, who gave her every single bit of information she had about grief, as well as the contact information for a grief counsellor.

Gabriel, however, stated his son didn’t need it, and to throw it all away. Nathalie of course couldn’t go against her employers wishes, however instead decided to be… sneaky about it.

So, when her shift ended at exactly 5:30 that day, she went to Adrien’s room, looking at the boy straight in the eyes and told him “You have my phone number, if for whatever reason you need to talk, just call my number and I WILL awnser. If its during the day when I am working, just send me a text message and I will take my break so we can talk.”

Adrien looked at Nathalie, before giving her his model smile (oh how Nathalie HATED that smile) “Nathalie, I’m fine, honest-”

“Adrien.” she interuppted him “I WILL answer.” she stated again simply.

Adrien looked at her, before nodding “... Okay, but I wont need to. Honest.”

About three days later, at about two oclock in the morning, Nathalie’s phone rings and like she promised, she does answer it.

~~~~~~

When Adrien expressed an interest in going to school, Nathalie knew that she was in for the toughest battle of her entire career. Gabriel Agreste was possibly the most over-protective, paranoid person she had ever met, and he was down right controlling.

So, she gather all the information she could about the benefits of public schooling, sighting how the school that Chloe went to was one of the best around and only about a ten minute walk from the mansion. They had good teachers there, and were known for being willing to be flexable with scedules as many of the students there also worked in entertainment or had jobs.

However, whenever she tried to bring up the subject, Gabriel was quick to change the subject. It came to the point where on the first day of school, Adrien had decided to take matters into his own hands, snuck out of the house to attend school.

As much as it killed Nathalie to do so, she had to bring him back the house, as per Gabriel’s orders. She could tell that the driver wasn’t happy about the decision either.

During their shared lunch they ate in the kitchen, Nathalie had her face pressed against the marbled counter top. “All he wants to do is attend school! Why can’t Mr. Agreste see that?!” She muttered into the cold stone.

Gorilla let out a soft grunt in response, eating his lunch as the woman continued to debate HOW she could get her kid- Adrien… how she could get ADRIEN to attend school. Her brows furrowed as she stood up suddenly, a look of determination on her face “I’m going to talk to him again. I will MAKE him listen to me.” She said, stomping out of the room.

~~~~~~~…

Nathalie knew she should have contacted the police the moment she found out about Gabriel being Hawkmoth about four months into his super villain activities… but than he showed her Emilie and explained what happened…. and they came to a sort of… accord.

She still wasn’t happy about it. But she began to form contingency plans, just in case.

~~~~~~

Nathalie had NOT in fact forgotten Adrien’s birthday. She had gotten him a simple, impersonal gift of his favourite candies, as well as some cash in a birthday card. The fact that GABRIEL seemed to have forgotten his own sons birthdya however angered her to no end… it made it even worse when she had to use Marinette’s gift as a substitute for Adrien’s negligent father…

When Marinette had submitted designs for a contest that Gabriel was hosting, if her name was suddenly at the very top of the ‘highly recommended’ list, Nathalie wouldn’t say. (The girl was extrmly talented after all.)

~~~~~~~~~~

By Christmas of that year, Nathalie just wanted her day to end so she could go and spend Christmas with her friends. She had been helping Adrien decorate the tree, he looked so sad when he realized his father probably wouldn’t join him.

“Will you be spending Christmas with your parents Nathalie?” Adrien asked off handedly. She hadn’t meant to tense up, and defiantly hadn’t meant for Adrien to see. “Oh… unless they aren’t around anymore…”

“... no, they live in Paris.” Nathalie stated simply, hanging up another decoration. “... I just haven’t spoken to them in many years.”

“... did you have a fight?” He asked hesitantly. Nathalie hated that fact that Adrien always felt like he had to walk on eggshells around adults. She shook her head.

“No… I came out to my parents as gay, and they said that when I got over ‘my phase’ I would be welcome back to the family.” She said simply. She gave Adrien a small smile. “... I’ll be spending Christmas with Carmine and our friends.”

“Oh… that sounds nice.” He said softly.

Nathalie looked at him, that back towards the office where his father had disappeared to, glancing at Gorilla who looked at her with a raised brow.

She brought out her cellphone, typing a quick text message before pressing send. About five minutes later she got a response and she looked at Adrien.

“Adrien, if your father is still locked up in his office come Christmas dinner, you are more than welcome to stop by my apartment for dinner.”

Adrien looked at her shocked “But… what about your friends?”

“They said they would be fine with it. I’m not going to pressure you. Just know that the option is open.”

Adrien looked at her for several long seconds, a warm smile spreading across his face. “... thanks Nathalie…”

~~~~~

Nathalie always cared…. and she always will.

#ml au #counsellor au #nathalie sancoeur #adrien agreste #carmine regal

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 years

Text

Eye for an Eye : 3

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: non/dub con sex

This is dark!Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: The reader tries to figure out her place in the brewing war.

Note: So here’s part 3. This is actually turning into a less than dark Steve (besides the whole mob thing and some murder) but hey, here ya go. Thanks everyone for your patience and for reading. <3 Let me know what you think!

…

Steve showered as you lingered in bed. As you listened to muffle patter of water you couldn't help but despair. Only a few days ago you had been alone in Charlie's bed and now you were sharing a cramped one with his enemy. It still didn't feel entirely right. As much as you could justify it with your former beau's disregard, you still felt low. Former…it was really over after so long in denial. Clinging to emotions which may never have been genuine. At least, not on his end.

When Steve emerged, he pulled on fresh clothes from the closet and tidied himself in the small bathroom mirror. He sat at the edge of the bed as he pulled on his leather shoes. He tied them and reached back to grasp your ankle poking out from beneath the crumpled duvet. You winced and hissed, drawn painfully from your self-pity.

"Shit, sorry," He turned as he removed his hand and examined your swollen ankle. "I guess that's a lesson learned the hard way."

"Guess so," You sat up with a sigh. "So what's it today? Am I to stay here buck naked and await your return?"

"For a time," He frowned, "Until we get you something to wear at least." He leaned over and kissed your cheek as you turned your lips away from him. You couldn't let this feel real. He stood and stretched as he paced the room. He pulled out a small notepad and pen from the corner table. "Make a list of what you need. Soap, make up, whatever it is you had in that lonely mansion."

"Yes, boss," You muttered dryly.

"Look, I'm trying. Didn't really think this out back in that kitchen. Wasn't planning on bringing anyone back," He pulled on his jacket and buttoned it once. "Not that I regret it. Shouldn't be long before Cindy gets here with some clothes. Oh, and write down your sizes too."

"Okay," You picked up the pad and pen. "I...thanks."

"I know it's a lot but you're going to have to get over Charlie real quick. I can assure you he's well and past it himself and you're as much an enemy to him as me now." He said pointedly. "Don't underestimate him. You may not have chosen your horse in this race but you're better off riding the one you've got."

You stared at him, your insides churning. "Don't you feel bad at all?"

"Remorse is not much of a virtue in this business," He neared the door, his hand resting on the handle as he glanced back at you, "Besides, I think I got the better end of this deal and a man can't complain when he gets what he wants."

He winked and left without awaiting a response. You were left in a whirlwind of confusion. You were angry at being moved like a pawn across the board and yet you could help the butterflies that took off every time he looked at you. Yet your powerless position made it all a little less ideal. You had lost Charlie long ago, you knew that, but this was more than a broken relationship. This was war and you were as good as a turncoat.

It wasn't too long after that the plump middle-aged Cindy arrived. She handed you a bag with a cheery enough greeting but seemed rush. Upon asking why she was in such a furor, she explained that she should be at Steve's actual house cleaning. She was his housekeeper and, it seemed, a lot more. You thanked her for her time and she went on her way with another harrumph.

You showered and dressed in the red blouse and pressed black pants. You were thankful that she had brought flats as your ankle still throbbed with every step. In the bag too was a sachet of basic toiletries and you did your best to primp yourself. You felt a little human again.

You were disturbed once more as you were sat in the armchair trying to keep yourself distracted. The knock was blunt and you didn't need to wait for your visitor to enter to guess at who it was. You stood as Bucky stepped inside, a smirk on his lips as you stood daintily on your sore ankle. He crossed his arms and waited by the open door.

"Let's go," He said. "Not carrying you either."

You shook your head and hobbled over to him, bracing the railing as you descended the stairs carefully. You took your time as Bucky huffed in irritation behind you. As you met even ground, he grabbed your arm and led you through the barroom and outside. A car waited for you and you were shoved in the back as Bucky took the driver's seat. Steve waited in the passenger's and grinned at you over his shoulder.

"You look well rested," He remarked, "Let me tell you, this is going to be so damn tiring."

"Where are we going?" You asked as you buckled up.

"To meet an old friend," He answered vaguely, "Sounded real eager to talk about a certain dumbass. Thought you might be interested in joining the conversation."

When the car finally stopped, you glanced up at the building before you and your shoulders dropped. You swore under your breath but not quiet enough as both men looked back at you.

"I take it you know Tony," Steve mused.

"Peripherally. He and Charlie met a few times...let's just say they weren't pals." You chewed your lip as you stared up at the extravagant tower. The richest man in New York and none so covert underworld king. "Don't think he'll appreciate my presence too much."

"Don't worry about Tony, he can be an ass but he's still rational." Steve climbed out and opened your door. "Just don't take it personal."

You waited in the lobby as Bucky parked and the three of you headed up to the top floor. The elevator was a godsend as just standing still was hell on your ankle. You were greeted by Tony's infamous arm candy, Pepper, who showed you to his office. You didn't miss her side-eye as she did. She likely recognized you as well. While Charlie kept you clueless, you weren't entirely oblivious.

There were loud voices from the other side of the door and Pepper knocked before she opened the door and left Steve to lead the way. It was chaos within. A kid with reddish-brown hair was in a chair, whining as a grey-haired man dug a pair of tweezers into his bloodied shoulder. A woman with short scarlet locks told him to suck it up and Tony Stark raved angrily as he stomped around his office. He stopped short at your entrance.

"Finally!" He turned to Steve, "You wont believe what that rat has done now--What the fuck is she doing here?"

Tony reached for his holster and Steve inserted himself between you. "Don't. We're all friends here."

"Oh yeah. If only by circumstance." Tony kept his hand on his hip but didn't draw. "I hoped to stay out of this little war of yours but it seems I don't have a choice." The kid's whimpers continued in the background.

"Yeah, Tony, you were just gonna let sacred ground be bloodied?" Steve challenged, "Really? As I recall I lost a few good men on behalf of a little turf war not long ago, one I could have as easily walked away from."

"He's an upstart. I didn’t wanna feed his ego. You do that and shit like this happens," He nodded to the kid as the bullet was finally dislodged from his flesh. "They shot the fucking kid on my ground. Can you believe that?"

"I warned you," Steve shrugged.

"Tell me you didn't come to rub it in," Tony snarled.

"I came because you asked me to," Steve countered.

"And you brought her," Tony scowled at you. "You're fucking her, aren't you?"

"An irrelevant fact," Steve smirked, "You don't need to worry about her. I've got this under control."

"Control? Sure." Tony scoffed.

"Well, this is what happens when the old rules are broken. You let it slide and they all go to shit." Steve reproached, "You're the one who wanted to play the pacifist."

"I think you know that's not the case anymore so no need to keep rubbing it in," Tony hissed, "It's my war now, too. You heard from Strange?"

"Man's not as bold as you. Still haven't received his declaration of neutrality." Steve said pointedly. "Least you had the balls to tell me no."

"Strange?" Your ears pricked at the name, "Oh, you won't be getting anything from him."

"Why's that?" Tony tilted his head darkly as if offended by your voice.

"You really don't know?" You wondered aloud.

"What is it?" Steve urged.

"Charlie and Strange are cousins. Their mothers are sisters." You looked around the room tepidly, "He might not take up for Charlie, but he definitely won't go against him. Blood and all."

"You think this little game is gonna make you feel better about that pretty new blond on his arm?" Tony chuckled dryly.

"This isn't a game," You peeked over at the boy as his shoulder was stitched up. "That much is clear."

"Jesus, Y/N, why didn't you say so earlier?" Steve interrupted before Tony could snipe back.

"You told me what I didn't know, you never asked me what I do know." You replied slyly, "Charlie may have kept secrets but he wasn't very good at it...clearly."

With a pact between two of the most powerful men in the city forged in blood, you left Stark Tower for the comfort of Steve’s mansion. Bucky was sent back to the bar to tend to business for the day as his boss swore to keep an ear open at home. You were relieved. You hated sitting alone in the loft and being a fly on the wall in his office was little better. Cindy was there and smiled as you followed Steve to the extravagant dining room. All this for one person; well, not entirely. Men like these often had a full house.

You were starving as a late lunch awaited you and you thanked the housekeeper for her hospitality. With Charlie, you had done most of the cooking yourself. There was a maid to tidy the rooms not often used but you took care of the rest. You didn’t like being kept like a pet. You wanted at least a degree of autonomy. You would take an ounce of agency if you were to be denied your independence.

You ate silently and finished with a sigh. Your fork clinked on the plate as you set it down. Steve looked up and gulped from his water. He had been as distracted as you though his thoughts were likely more focused on war plans. He raised a brow as he scratched his beard.

“What’s up?” He asked as if breaking from a daze.

“You think Tony’s going to kill me?” You asked abruptly.

“What?” He almost laughed as he sat up in his chair.

“He hates me because of Charlie. He might think if he kills me, it’ll hurt Charlie.” You shrugged, “Would you let him?”

“Come on,” He shook his head, “Tony’s not going to kill you, okay? He’s mad right now because of the kid but he’s not an idiot.”

“I asked you if you would let him,” You repeated.

“Of course not. If I was going to let you get killed, I would’ve done it myself,” He scowled, “Now stop.”

“What do you expect? I feel powerless here. I’m just supposed to hang off your arm as you make your battle plans.” You slumped in your chair. “I’m not stupid enough to ask you to trust me but a little slack on the leash would be nice.”

“The last time I allowed you an inch, you took a mile,” He smirked, “There’s a lot of windows in this place.”

“I didn’t really think that out, did I?” You scoffed. “I got nowhere to go. We both know that. I’d not only be on your hit list, but Charlie’s and Tony’s.”

“Sorry but you’re just going to have to suffer me a little bit longer,” He shrugged, “Gonna have to do a lot more to earn my forgiveness.”

He leaned forward with a lurid smirk. You caught his meaning and rolled your eyes. Despite his fixation on his vengeance, he seemed even more obsessed with his libido. In the two days you had been with him, he hadn’t shied away from the topic. And when you did get into it, he’d worn you out. Even in your early love blind days, you and Charlie had never fucked that rampantly.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t you have a war to worry about?” You pouted. “Maybe try to keep your mind on that.”

“You make it difficult,” He chuckled as he leaned back in his chair.

That night you laid awake in bed. It was different from the one before. This one was the one in which Steve truly resided. It smelled of him. He was next to you; sleeping soundly after his usual rapacious activity. You watched him, a low rumble rising from his chest with each breath. His snores were quiet and calming. Even so, you couldn’t sleep.

You wondered how everything could change so fast. It hadn’t been so long ago that you had been sleeping beside another mafioso. Fucking him. Well, that hadn’t been as often. Now you were in the bed of his enemy; you were his enemy. You rolled over and held your head in your hands. You recalled the night in the kitchen; the river of blood which flowed from Robert’s body. The man next to you was a murderer; the man before him was too. When had you become so callous? How could you ignore the plight of others for your own desires?

Well, you didn’t have much of a choice now. When had you truly had a choice in all this? It was kill or be killed. That much was clear after your meeting with Stark. If it hadn’t been for Steve, he’d have made you atone for Charlie’s sins. You peeked over at Steve; still unaware of your internal struggle. You carefully pushed yourself up, careful not to jostle the bed as you stood. Your ankle reverberated with pain and you held back a squeak.

You searched the room and found a tee in one of his drawers. You had never seen him in anything but his usual tailored suit. You wondered if he was anything but the cool and collected mobster. You pulled the shirt over your head, the hem fell below your thighs. You tiptoed, rather limped, around the bed and neared the double doors which led to the Mediterranean style balcony. You turned the handle slowly and stepped out into the night air.

You neared the rail and looked out to the trimmed hedges that framed the long driveway. The yard was shrouded in shadows, the moonlight speckled along folded leaves and marble statues. You peered down along the immaculate landscape and shivered. It wasn’t the chill that made you tremble but the thought of what was to come. War. Charlie had gotten into some shit before, but nothing like this. You had never expected to be on the other side.

You gripped the rail as a dark figure appeared from beneath the balcony. Your other hand was on your chest as the movement frightened you. It was a moment before you recognized the silhouette and only seconds before he was glaring up at you. Even in the dark, you could feel the spite of the loyal henchman. You returned his heated gaze through the grey as he came to a halt. You didn’t fault him your distrust. A woman who spread her legs for her place garnered little more than contempt.

The door shifted slightly behind you and footsteps neared. You turned as Steve emerged in little more than he slept in; nothing. You were embarrassed and tried to hide your face from the man below you. You heard Bucky’s retreat as Steve came up behind you, his arms encased you as he rested his hands on the railing.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was thick with sleep as his hot breath whisked across your scalp.

“Nothing, I just...couldn’t sleep.” You shrugged and he leaned in to nuzzle your hair. “You know, I went to uni for English Lit?” You shook your head with a dry chuckle, “How’d I ever end up here?”

“Oh?” He lifted his head, his tone curious. “Well, you seem the type...I mean, I could see you now. Perky little sorority sister.”

“Ha, no, nothing like that,” You scoffed, “Straight A’s. I had a scholarship to maintain. More a sweater vest and glasses type.”

“Even better,” He slipped his hands from the railing and found your hips beneath the loose tee, “What happened to the glasses?”

“I didn’t exactly get a chance to grab my contacts,” You shrugged, “They were just for reading anyway. Not doing much of that anyway.”

“You shouldn’t dwell on the past,” His hand slid up your stomach and his fingers tickled you through the cotton. “The present is much more...interesting.”

“I know,” You sighed and stilled his hand. You turned to him, trapped between him and the stone railing. “I’m more worried about the future. What happens after? Win or lose, where do I go?”

“You don’t have to go,” He twined his fingers through yours.

“You say that now. It won’t be long before you follow in Charlie’s wake. Trust me.” You insisted, “I… ended up exactly where I never wanted to; dependent on someone else.”

“No, you’re not,” He returned, “You won’t be. Not if you keep yourself involved. I want you involved. I want you to know everything--”

“So you can win your war,” You frowned, “The war will end and after that, I won’t be so useful.”

He brought your hand to his lips and kissed the back of it softly. “So pessimistic,” He said as he began to back away. He drew you with him as he kept hold of your hand. “I’m telling you, I could never tire of you.”

“Stop,” You touched your cheek with your free hand as it burned. “Don’t lie to me.”

“In all of this, when have I lied to you?” He asked as he led you through the door. “Tell me.” You shook your head. He hadn’t. “Well?” He waited; no answer. He walked backwards until his legs touched the bed and he sat, pulling you between his legs. “So, just give me the benefit of the doubt. At least until the shit hits the fan.”

You couldn’t help the subtle curve of your lips as you let go of his hand. You brought your hands to his shoulders and bent to kiss him. He was voracious as he met your lips with his usual hunger. He rolled the shirt up your torso as he held you between his knees. You lifted your arms and he parted only to remove the cotton. His mouth crashed back into yours and he fell back on the bed taking you with him.

He rolled over so that you were beneath him, your legs hung over the edge. His hand grazed your thigh as he felt around for your most sensitive spot. He had learned the curves and kinks of your body so quickly. You were already wet. The moment he had come up behind you on the balcony you had felt the rush. He slipped his fingers between your folds and cloyingly dragged them to your clit. You moaned into his mouth as he pressed down, twirling his fingertips so that your thighs twitched. You squeezed his hand between your legs as he played with you, his lips left yours as you turned your chin up with a gasp. He kissed and nibbled along your jaw and neck as he stirred your nerves into a flurry. Your muscles clutched and released all at once and you exclaimed in surprise as your climax rose quicker than ever before.

He drew back and leaned on his shoulder as he looked down at you. His blue eyes sparkled in the dark as his finger traced the line of your vee. He led you wordlessly, pulling your body up entirely onto the mattress. He was on top of you once more, his lips on yours, then your cheek, neck, jaw, collarbone. He paused as he reached your breasts and looked up at you. You shyly returned his gaze and he smiled.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He hummed before he lowered his head.

He explored every inch of your body before making his way back up to your lips. You bent your legs around him in welcome. He reached down as he kept his mouth on yours and positioned himself at your entrance. He pushed inside slowly as his hand came up to cradle your face. He sighed into your mouth as he delved into you a little at a time. Your body trembled as he filled you entirely.

He began his motion languidly. His body brushing against yours. You draped your arms around his shoulders as you clung to the delight. Your legs wrapped around him as he kept his pace deliberate, groaning with each stroke. You breathed in time with his thrusts, his warmth flowed through you like electricity. Every nerve, every muscle, every inch of flesh fizzled against him.

He did not quicken much, his pace steady; tantalizing. Your orgasm struck you once more by surprise. Rising from the calm waves so suddenly you nearly screamed. Steve buried his face in your neck as he thrust into you as deep as he could, every time bringing himself to the limit before pulling out evenly. His shoulders tightened under your hands, your nails digging into his muscles as a second peak rose in quick succession.

He growled into your flesh as his hips snaps forward decisively and his motion turned erratic; jarring. His ground his pelvis into yours in one last thrust, his body seizing atop of you as he panted into your sweaty skin. He lingered as you hugged him to you and he cradled you beneath him. Slowly, he kept you flush to him as he rolled you both onto your side.

“Don’t think about tomorrow,” He whispered. “Just focus on right now.”

He remained as he was, lost in the rapture as his eyes closed. You mirrored him as your breath calmed and the sweat on your skin cooled. You flinched when he began to move again. Rocking within you as his cum began to seep out around his cock. Your thighs grew slick from the mixture of your juices and you hooked your leg over his as you forgot about the dread which had kept you awake. There was only that moment. Only him.

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987 notes · View notes

linoloverimagines · 5 years

Text

Burn (MIN YOONGI X READER ANGST) (inspired by the song “Burn” in hamilton)

Dating a non-famous person in the K-pop industry almost seemed like taboo especially if an Idol was dating a foreigner. So, being in a relationship with Min Yoongi one of the biggest boy groups in the industry was a bit of a challenge.

You weren’t a celebrity inside or outside of Korea, you weren’t anything special in the public eye, so getting hate may be heavier for you than other famous people dating idols. Since Yoongi was concerned about your safety and you understood the repercussions if the public found out, you agreed to keep your relationship a secret.

You two have been dating for more than a year now and for the first few months it felt amazing. It helped that you landed a job in big hit as a human resource officer, so you both always had the chance to hang out with each other within the walls of the building.

He would sneak you in his genius lab where you guys would eat, talk, and make love.

It felt perfect.

It came to a point where he asked you to moved into his apartment, you were skeptical at first because paparazzis might spot you with him, but he assured you that the complex was safe and private for celebrities.

He would also bring sample tracks home sometimes and make you listen to them. Seeing him being proud of his work brought happiness in your heart, but sometimes you wished he wasn’t such a workaholic.

You wished that he would have more time with you at home or even in the office, but you couldn’t be selfish since this is his dream and this is what he loves to do.

One day he made you go into his office to listen to a track, you were surprised by the unusual sweet melody and lyrics of the song. When he said that it was written about you and for you, your heart fluttered and you wondered how lucky you were to have such a hardworking yet sweet partner.

As months past by, you noticed that Yoongi comes later than he usually does and in some days he doesnt even go home.

You always tried to be supportive so you kept on getting updates from him or the other boys if he was fine or eating well.

When BTS finally went for a short hiatus, so the members could take a well-deserve break, Yoongi still worked on new tracks in his office. Luckily, one of their managers managed to kick him out and convince him that he needs to go home and rest.

He opened the door to your apartment and gave you a small smile “Hi.”

You ran up to hug him tightly “You’re home early!”

“Yeah....Sejin-nim managed to convince me to rest.”

“That’s great! I’ve missed you so much” you bury your head on his chest

“Ive missed you too, Jagi” he kissed your head

————————-

“Namjoon said that we needed to take a break from our break because we were offered to collaborate with a girl group. He said that it could help our group grow even more...” Yoongi explained why he had to come home late again

“It’s okay, i understand” you sighed “oh, by the way i have to go home next week... there was an emergency regarding my niece and they need me there. I’ll only be gone for a few days though” you informed

“Alright, be safe okay?” He kissed your forehead

—————-

“Y/N, isnt this Yoongi?” Your mom points to an article from a tabloid site on her phone

‘BTS’ Suga seen together with Red Velvet’s Joy in a restaurant’

You laughed it off “it’s probably just for publicity, mom. Their groups are making a collab song”

“Hmm...if you say so, but always remember what i said before i agreed to your relationship.” your mother looks at you with concern

You nodded

You shrugged off the article because it was probably nothing and you trust Yoongi too much to worry.

———————-

“I’ve missed you guys so much and i hope little ______ will be alright, keep updating me alright?” You say to your mom while hugging her goodbye

“You take on your flight, okay?” She kissed your forehead

While waiting for your plane to board, you decided to check new updates about your boyfriend’s boyband on their webpage. Hewas always too busy to update you or even just check up on you, but you understood because you knew how important music was to him.

‘ BTS’ Suga publicizes relationship with Red Velvet’s Joy’ written on the front page of their official site

Your heart dropped, but you needed to be rational. Maybe it was just a scheme to get their fans to get along?

You clicked on the article and saw a video pop up and in the video was your dear Min Yoongi holding hands with Joy.

Your heart sank even further

“I don’t know how or when, But it all just felt right when she finally said yes” Yoongi let out his gummy grin

Thoughts started to plagued your mind

“How can he do this to me?”

“Why did he do this to me?”

Your eyes were blurry with tears, but you were interrupted by a man who tapped you on the shoulder

“Uh, miss i think it’s time to board the plane”

You quickly snap out of your state “oh yes yes, thank you.”

—————————-

During the entire plane ride, you couldn’t sleep. All you did was think of the different things that you could do to Yoongi such as choke him to death, yell at him, or just quietly exit out of his life. You didn’t know what to do and you actually wished that the plane would just crash, so you wont have to feel that hurt anymore.

When you finally arrived at the apartment complex, you looked like your soul was drained out of your body. The flight was 11 hrs and you haven’t had any sleep nor have you eaten anything since you saw the dreadful article.

You opened the door and you were greeted with familiar laughs from familiar male voices mixed with the giggles from females.

Ahhh, the whole boyband was here along with their new girlfriends, including the person your man replaced you with. Perfect.

The laughs stopped when they saw you come in, you scanned the room and there he was sitting next to Joy, looking lovely and bright while you looked like an absolute mess.

“Y/N.” Yoongi immediately stood up and walked over to you.

You could feel your tears welling up again, but you tried to keep your composure.

You couldn’t even mutter a single word without breaking down, all you could do was sigh.

You walked pass him and dragged your luggage to your shared bedroom and he quickly followed.

“Why did i even come here?” You thought

“I can explain everything, I promise” he blurted out

You motioned your hand signaling him to keep talking

“I don’t love her, but i needed to do it for the promo. I’m sorry....” he muttered

“Do you know what my mother said? When you asked me to be yours? She said ‘be careful with that one, love. He will do what it takes to survive.’ No wonder you kept me a secret, you and your words flooded my senses, your sentences left my defenseless! But you’re more Obsessed with your legacy than you are in love with me! You are paranoid on how the public with perceive you if they found out you were dating someone irrelevant!” You cried out

“You told the whole world how you brought this girl into our lives and in wanting to achieve more, you have ruined our relationship!” You added as you bawled out your anger and hurt.

“Min Yoongi, I can’t do this....” You dragged your luggage out of the apartment as he tried to chase after you

“y/n... wait please.” He begged grabbing your wrist

“You are very talented y’know that? You can still succeed without pretending to date someone famous. I-I just cant let myself become this hidden part of your life that you’re ashamed of...” you shook his grip off

“It’s not that I’m ashamed of you, it’s just that... Agh, i dont, agh” he struggled to find the right words

“Goodbye, Min Yoongi”

You walked away and this time, he didn’t follow you anymore.

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